The Ocean's Heart (The Dragons of Flareia Book 2)

Chapter 18 - Alayah

           

Ivenstra, Avalona

26th Year of the Ocean

Last Day of the Fifth Moon

Alayah Bellus scowled in the mirror of her dressing table, and waved her Avalonian attendants away. Her hair was curled and pinned in intricate braids, which – even she had to admit – looked breathtaking, but they'd also secured in an array of seashells. She scoffed. She may have been marrying the Avalonian King, but she was no Avalonian herself.

"I am the Queen of Venteer," she snapped at them. "If you cannot style me as one, then I suggest you leave. I shall do it myself."

The three women took a step back and bowed slightly – not a full bow, only a slight bend of the shoulders, as if they were unsure how to be respectful. She sighed. Were all Avalonians as useless as one another? No common sense, no respect, no fight. Not even with a wedding only hours away.

She plucked the coral tail comb from where the attendants had left it and began shimmying the shells from her braids. As she pulled open the centre drawer which held her jewels, there was a knock at the door. She paused, placing the comb back down and sliding the drawer closed once more.

"Shall we let them in, Your Majesty?" the youngest attendant asked.

"I don't imagine anyone would come now, were it not an emergency," Alayah observed. "Let them in."

The door opened to reveal Zell Stravyan, the Avalonian Chancellor with a scar marring his face. He was Tommél's closest friend, if Tommél had friends, but Alayah was unsure of what to think of him. There was always a fierceness behind his eyes that worried her – this Avalonian had fight in him, but she could never tell why.

"Your Majesty," he murmured, dropping into a low bow – as he rightfully should, as the attendants didn't.

"What is it?" she asked, turning back to the mirror. She pulled at one of her braids, separating the strands a little to make it look softer, but she was watching Zell in the mirror, not her hair. Only a fool would willingly turn their back on someone as unpredictable as him.

"You have a message from the Venti Scholars."

She narrowed her eyes. "How is it that you have this letter, rather than one of my guards?"

He shrugged, prowling across the room to place the letter on the dressing table. "The messenger found me first."

"I'm sure they did."

She plucked the folded parchment from where he placed it and turned it over. It was sealed with the Venti crest – three crowns arching over an owl. She would have to change it – there was only one crown now. She broke the seal with a little too much satisfaction. As she unfolded it, a second, smaller piece of parchment fell out, this one a different texture to the parchment they made in Venteer. It was a message, she realised, from another country – but why?

Your Majesty, the letter read.

This letter arrived just now from Anemasi, intended for the Venti monarch. I have sent it with the fastest and most trustworthy messenger of mine, as I imagine it will be of much interest to you.

I hope your wedding the Tommél Ivenya goes well.

Head Scholar

Stephar Scholl

She peered at the name. How ironic that while the little Dragonheir was a traitorous bastard, while his father, the Head Scholar, was nothing but loyal, even to her? Not that it was a problem at the moment – it had been over a month since he'd escaped with the little Sophos brat, and none of her Bellus assassins had found any trails. Wherever they were, they weren't in Venteer. But they also weren't in Avalona, Ignisia, Anemasi or Gaiamere. That left Umbrassé – and if they were there, they were good as dead. She'd only met with Emperor Nequami once, but it had only taken seconds for her to decide that he was the most insufferable man alive – even more so than her fiancé.