A Queen of Ice (A Trial of Sorcerers #5)

Chapter 5

5

M other .

The word that no longer fit quite right. That didn’t seem to describe the woman calling after her. And yet, Eira had no other label that would fit.

“We will have order!” the man boomed over his gavel. “The floor is not open for comment from the gallery.”

There was a commotion above. Eira found the source of the voice. She squinted into the light that filtered through the dome. The figures above were cast in shadow.

It couldn’t be …

Lavette cleared her throat and resumed her movement from before. “This woman is not the infamous pirate queen. Her name is Eira Landan. She is a Waterrunner from Solaris and a champion in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms. I knew her as a fellow competitor and can vouch for her identity. If not for her quick thinking and skill—and the skills and cleverness of her friends—my fellow champion from Qwint, Varren, and I would have died with the rest. It is because of her that we were able to return to you. So, I seek her immediate release from these shackles.”

“Even if she is not the pirate queen herself, she could be in cahoots,” a minister said from the stands that circled the room. Some agreements. Some contrary remarks that “Adela works alone.”

“Perhaps not Adela, but the one to have brought Ulvarth that infernal armor,” another said.

Armor? Eira had heard nothing of the sort. But there was no time to inquire further.

“I propose this motion on behalf of my niece.” Lavette’s aunt stepped back to the center of the room, equally eager to reclaim decorum and wrap the matter up as quickly as possible.

“I second the motion,” the other man in the center, who had been silent until now, chimed in.

The first man who had spoken and who had been attempting to keep order—the eldest among them—continued to regard Eira warily. He begrudgingly said, “Then the motion is brought to a vote. All those in favor of releasing this Eira Landan and allowing her crew to be free within Qwint, raise your paddles.”

Around the room, green paddles rose in vast majority.

“Those against.”

Only a handful of blue paddles dotted the sea of hats.

“And those abstaining.”

A couple of white paddles.

“Those in favor have it.” The elder man picked up a small mallet, striking a tall, tubular bell that stood at the end of one of the two desks.

As soon as the chime echoed through the hall, the soldiers removed Eira’s shackles. She massaged her wrists. The physical relief paled in comparison to the sensation of her magic surging back to her.

“With that, we shall adjourn our special session of the Hall of Ministers regarding the potential threat of the Pirate Queen Adela Lagmir,” the elder man continued to speak in his authoritative tone. “Let the record show that it was not, as first assumed, Adela off our waters, and the matter is now closed.”

All those in the circles of chairs that ringed the hall at varying levels banged their fists on the railings before them three times. With that, the air seemed to clear with an unheard sigh. People rose to their feet and began to chat. Eira noticed that, with the threat deemed no more, they seemed to hardly pay her any attention—save for the few who had voted against her. Those men and women still regarded her with wary glances and skeptical looks.

The immediate threat quelled, for now, her attention drifted up toward the balcony. The space where the woman had claimed Eira was her daughter was vacant now. Cleared out with the rest. Perhaps cleared out by force.

“Eira?” Alyss whispered from her side. She hadn’t realized Alyss had worked her way to stand next to her.

“It couldn’t have been…” She still searched the empty balcony for answers that weren’t there. “How could she be here? She was in the coliseum…”

“You’re here,” Alyss pointed out.

Eira’s wondering was cut short as Lavette and her aunt stole her attention by approaching.

“Everyone, this is my aunt, High Minister Morova D’astre,” Lavette introduced with a motion.

“A pleasure.” Morova introduced herself to each of them in turn. When she made it to Eira, she paused, mid-grip, staring. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

“My reputation precedes me.” Eira offered a slight smile.

“Only by way of the survivors who made it back from the tournament.” A pause. “It seems you might know some of those from Solaris.”

“Yet to be confirmed,” Eira said cautiously. But who else would claim to be her mother? Who would lie about that? Was it more likely that this was someone trying to manipulate her into a dangerous position, or that her mother was actually here? Both seemed impossible. She worked to remain focused, even when a thousand unanswered questions ricocheted across her mind. “Regardless, I’d like to assure you that those rumors about me are greatly exaggerated.” Eira released the woman’s hand.

“Glad to hear it, otherwise I would end up looking quite foolish for defending you.”

“We don’t want that,” Eira agreed with the unsaid. “Speaking of what happened at the tournament, there are a few matters I would like to discuss with your council.”

“Regular session will not begin until tomorrow—today was technically an off day, until you arrived. But I will gladly bring your matters before the hall then,” Morova assured her.

Eira refrained from being more insistent. This was the way things were done here. And one night wasn’t likely to make a significant difference.

“Who else made it back?” Varren interjected.

“Only a small group of spectators and Minister Gourdun.” A heavy frown weighted Morova’s words. The pain of the wound was still real. “There were a few survivors from Solaris, as well, who had been sitting among those with Qwint in the stands.”

There it was, a plausible explanation. Yet, Eira still wasn’t ready to believe it.

“So few survived…” The rest of what Lavette might have said was lost, no doubt to her crumpling into her own grief. The woman was doing an impressive job of holding herself together. But her brows were fighting a pained furrow. Her eyes reddening at their edges.

Her aunt seemed to notice, too. “Come, we should get you home where you can relax in comfort.”

“Home?” Lavette blinked, returning to the present. “ Home ,” she repeated, softer, her voice filled with longing. Then, she turned to Eira. “Aunt, do you think you will be able to take Eira to meet the refugees from Solaris? I believe she might want to confirm the identities of a few?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble?” Eira forced herself to say. Her voice remained level even as her insides trembled.

“It shouldn’t be. I can have two of our soldiers lead you to the refugee house we have set up for them.” Morova was motioning for a nearby soldier as she spoke, quickly repeating the instruction and ending with, “Then escort her to the D’astre residences.”

“Understood.” The soldier dipped his capped and plumed head.

“We can all go together?” Cullen offered. He looked more worried about her right now than he had when they’d been skirmishing with Carsovia’s navy.

“Of course.” Eira nodded, immediately assuming he wanted to ask after his father. Her hand moved of its own volition, touching his forearm gently. Cullen had as complicated a relationship with his family as she had with hers. But that didn’t make this any easier. “Alyss, do you mind joining as well?”

“I doubt my family came to watch.” She rubbed the back of her neck. Eira held her gaze. Like always, Alyss figured out the unsaid. “But I should check.”

“Then we shall see you three at my home later.” Lavette was still working on her composure. It seemed wildly unfair that Eira would have an opportunity to reunite with part of her family—the people with whom she had a deeply complicated relationship at best—and Lavette only received confirmation of her father’s death. A father Lavette clearly loved deeply.

Fate rarely played fair.

They parted ways. Lavette went with her aunt, the rest of them in tow. Cullen, Eira, and Alyss were escorted by the soldier out a different exit and back onto the streets.

“It’ll be all right,” Alyss encouraged with a whisper, taking her hand. Eira hadn’t realized she’d been balling her fingers into a fist that was so tight she’d nearly drawn crescents of blood into her palm.

“What will I say to them?” Eira breathed. Her parents were here, even if her heart still objected to the notion.

Cullen walked a step ahead. Eira couldn’t tell if he was intentionally trying to avoid intruding, or if he was lost in his own world. Probably both.

“Start with hello, see where it goes from there,” Alyss said.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be more complicated.”

Eira glanced at her friend from the corners of her eyes. Frustration simmering not at Alyss, but at the fact that she was right. Alyss seemed to understand the distinction and a sly smile arced her lips.

“Just…” Alyss trailed off as their feet slowed to a stop before a small building that bore the seal of Qwint over its door. Eira was vaguely reminded of the homes in the Champion Village—well made, but not overly appointed. Comfortable enough. Vaguely, she wondered if it was the same one that Varren had been taken to when he’d managed to escape Carsovia. “Be honest with yourself and with them.”

“I don’t know if I can be,” Eira admitted.

“You’re strong enough.” Alyss knew just what she needed to hear. She’d been there every step when it came to matters of Eira’s family.

“I…I know I am.” The words tasted somewhat of a lie. But were more or less truth. Eira had the luxury of strength because she no longer needed them as the woman she’d become. But the girl who she had been still longed, just once in her life, for their approval. “But I’m not sure if my honesty will break them. If that will be worth it.”

I don’t have to break them to mend myself . The words stung. A petty, childish part of her wished they weren’t true. But they were. Her being no longer depended on them. Wounding them was unlikely to heal her.

“That’s a decision only you can make. But don’t sacrifice your peace for their comfort. You aren’t responsible for how they feel.”

Eira heard Alyss’s words. But hoped by the time they entered the building she’d fully believed them.

“Alyss is right.” Cullen finally spoke, drawing Eira’s attention solely to him. But he only stared ahead. Focused intensely on the door. “Say what you need to say. Speak like you’ll never have another chance to—you never know if you will.”

What would he have said to his father, if he’d known that there wouldn’t be another chance? How would he have acted differently, all those weeks and months, if he’d known that his whole life would crumble? But from the rubble he could build something new, entirely on his own and for himself, after so many years of having the design of his life be dictated by those around him.

She didn’t have the heart to ask him, at least not in this moment. Not even when Cullen shifted his weight to look back at her. Wordlessly, he reached forward and grabbed her face with a single hand. The touch was steady with need, but not overly demanding. It was the unhesitant ease that had her leaning in. “For luck,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her as if it was the last time he ever could.

As abruptly as the kiss began, he pulled away, squaring off against the door. Without another word, he entered the building. Leaving Eira to feel a twinge of envy at his boldness.

“So, you and Cullen are still…” Alyss glanced between them.

“Yes.”

“And Olivin?”

“Also yes.” Though things with both had been in a sort of stasis following Noelle. It hadn’t been the time, or place.

Alyss nudged and squeezed her hand. “Now that’s something you could share with your parents.”

Eira barked laughter at the absurdity of the suggestion. Alyss joined in. The effort to lighten the mood worked. But only for a moment. Tension settled back in with a sigh from Eira.

“All right, let’s go.” Eira stepped forward. Alyss’s hand dropped from hers when she didn’t move in step with Eira. The question never had a chance to leave her lips. Instead, Eira saw the answer written on Alyss’s face. “No,” she whispered.

“You need to do this on your own.”

“But—”

“I will be right here when you’re finished. And, if necessary, I’m sure there’s somewhere in this city that sells sticky buns.”

“You’re the worst.” It was already hard to speak.

“I know.” Alyss jerked her head toward the door. “Now, go on.”

The soldier that had escorted them had taken his position off to the side. Eira walked past him, debating whether she should assure him they’d only be a minute. But she ultimately decided against it. Who knew how long this would take?

Unlocked, the heavy door provided no resistance. A foyer connected to a long hall before her, stairs stretching up one side to a loft above with more doors. Eira paused, debating where to go next. Cullen was nowhere to be seen. The heavy shutting of the door behind her was ultimately what made the choice for her.

“Yes?” An unfamiliar woman emerged from an archway in the back, wiping her hands on a rag. It was strange to hear the tones of Solaris after becoming so accustomed to the accents of Meru and Qwint. “Are you with His Lordship?”

“Yes—but no,” Eira quickly corrected herself. She was traveling with Cullen, but in this moment they had to go their own ways. “I’m looking for Reona and Herron Landan.” Eira spoke the words, but they somehow felt like they came from someone else. This couldn’t be happening …

“Reona, Herron,” the woman called into the room attached by the archway. “You’ve a guest.”

She’d barely had a chance to finish saying the words before a woman breezed past her in a blur. Eira’s eyes widened a fraction as her father emerged behind her mother. It was the first time they had laid eyes on each other since Marcus’s death. In a second, Eira was back in Solaris castle…alone…waiting on word. Fearing her family hated her once and for all—for good.

“Eira.” Reona rushed forward. Eira didn’t have a chance to react before her mother’s arms enveloped her, crushing her. She was so startled that it wasn’t until her mother drew a shuddering breath that Eira realized her cheek and shoulder were wet from tears. “We thought we’d lost you, too.”

Those words had her arms closing around the woman who was both mother and stranger. Friend and foe. The woman who had raised her, and also managed to tear her down. But, for a second, none of that mattered. It all could wait as they, at long last, shared in a grief that only they truly knew.