Page 7 of Pawns of Salistya

Font Size:

Page 7 of Pawns of Salistya

He took a few deep breaths, before straightening up with a slight wince. ‘In all fairness, Meredith is banging the right-hand man to your husband. That’s kind of a big deal,’ he muttered.

Before I could deliver an elbow to the other side of his stomach, my whole body stiffened, besides my head, which I whipped furiously around to Varqel, the source of the magic, making me unable to move.

‘If I may, Little One?’ He may be the army general and chief trainer of Solista, as well as my personal trainer as a teen, but Varqel knew as well as I did that his magic was no match for my own. His gaze never left mine, acknowledging the only reason I allowed myself to stay trapped was out of utter respect for him.

‘Can you please release me before you start to tell me what I can imagine will be every reason as to why I am wrong, you are right, and that I shouldn’t be angry with Mazyr?’ I sighed.

Seeing him about to open his mouth to object, I hurriedly added, ‘And no I will not go for another round at Mazyr as soon as you release me. I promise.’

Despite my promise, I shot Mazyr a glare. He sent me an amused grin in return, safe in the knowledge I won’t break a promise to Varqel. Mer is right. He is a little shit.

Varqel’s magic withdrew, and I walked over to the other side of the room, unceremoniously slumping onto the lounge. Best to have a bit of distance between Maz and I.

I directed my eyes back to V, whose side-eyed glance told me this was a conversation best had between the two of us. With a subtle nod, I looked at Amire and Maz. ‘You two can go. Make sure to be back in Amarald before the sun rises,’ I ordered. ‘Oh, and Maz, why don’t you have a little chat to your spies. I suggest starting the conversation at the sparring ring to ensure there’s a mutual understanding on what constitutes important information.’

A wolfish grin overtook Maz’s mouth. He was a complete advocate for disciplinary training. ‘As you wish, Queen.’ Grabbing Amire’s hand, the pair teleported out of the room.

Sighing, I brought my knees up to my chest, shifting towards Varqel as he sat down on the lounge next to me. I patiently waited as he crossed his left leg over the right, leaning back to brace his arms on the top of the couch.

‘Where to begin?’ He paused. ‘As you saw, Dwyla is a natural with magic and her combat skills are second to none. For the first two years of her stay on the Isles she was surrounded by fellow Salistyan and Solistan teens, as you know, with the first crew of Arlomans coming on board just after she had been gifted her magic. Considering we had taken on fifteen-year-olds, some of them turned sixteen shortly after arriving. Because of this, they were behind on their combat training. We had to add on extra hours of training to get them up to speed. Not ideal, but it was a once-off.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Tarn was one of the Arlomans that received his magic the first new moon he was here, and therefore merged into the classes that Dwyla was taking.’

‘Tarn? Tarn as in my husband’s younger brother?’ I sputtered. ‘How the fuck did Maz miss that.’

‘Yes, that would be the one,’ he replied solemnly. ‘There is no doubting his power or that the Goddess Wystia acknowledges his royal heritage. He is a force to be reckoned with and the only person on this island equal to your sister’s power. Naturally, she would be drawn to him.’

I let out a string of curses.

Varqel continued, used to my colourful language. ‘Now, I will admit this is not ideal considering the position you are currently in and the demands of your older sister …’

‘But?’ I guessed.

‘But I remember a girl arriving on these very Isles with much power and potential, but who was a product of the oppressive nature of the Salistyan Queendom without realising it. A girl who, after six months, finally wore an outfit that wasn’t the prescribed Salistyan clothing. A girl who, despite being warned against it, fell in love with a common Salistyan trainee. A girl who was, for a time, able to be free, to live a life as she wanted, without duty weighing her down.’

‘V – ’ I breathed out, clasping my suddenly shaky hands.

‘Maybe Valare, your sister is a little more like you than you realise. Tarn is the only person on this island that can understand the duties of a royal and the yearning to be free. Whether you like it or not, he makes her feel free. Are you going to take that away from her?’ he said, a soft, understanding smile on his face.

‘There’s just so much going on here. Slaviya is the ruler of Salistya. The death of the Marlyst King is bringing in a new royal. There’s the mission to make a sole ruler … There is too much uncertainty and instability in Fyriane now, let alone what is likely to come. This could all end so very wrong. I don’t want her heart caught in the crossfire,’ I argued.

‘Funny, I recall having a similar conversation with your older sister about your growing love interest when you were training here.’ Amusement layered his voice.

Surprise gripped me. I had not been expecting that. ‘What? How did she know about that?’

Waving his hand in dismissal, he said, ‘It doesn’t matter, it’s done now. The point I’m making is that she chose duty over her sister’s wishes. Will you do the same and take Tarn away from Dwyla the way your lover was taken away from you?’ he questioned.

‘They didn’t take him away from me, V. We are still together,’ I denied, shaking my head.

‘You married a king, Valare. You may see him on nights like these,and be able to sneak away for a few hours of privacy, but don’t fool yourself. You and I both know things have not and will not be the same between you two. She took him away from you to fulfil a plan she could have very well terminated the minute she took the royal throne. Are you going to do the same to Dwyla?’

‘No,’ I answered, immediately, seeing what he was pointing out. ‘I will not let her go through what Slaviya has put me through. Absolutely not. But this must remain a secret.’

‘Oh, my dear Valare, you underestimate your sister. If you had continued to watch the sparring, you would have seen that she plays the same game with all her opponents. Male or female,’ he chuckled.

‘What a little flirt,’ I huffed in return.

‘And that is why Mazyr’s spies have not relayed this information, as they assume this is just a part of her personality and nothing more to look into.’

I probably should feel bad that I just sent off Mazyr to put them through the ringer, but hey, their line of work means being kept on your toes.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books