Page 64 of Of Storm and Emerald
“Invite her to the summer solstice,” she spoke slowly, enunciating every word to make sure it sunk in the second time.
“You want me to invite Princess Auraelia…to our solstice celebration? Why? What was in that letter, Mother?”
The queen sighed. “Why? Because I want my son to be happy. Is that such a terrible thing for a mother to want? As for the letter, Queen Adelina mentioned that you and her daughter seemed…cozy, during your visit. She’s just being cautious and sharing information. You know that the treaty between our kingdoms states that the heirs can’t marry. So, if you’re serious about pursuing whatever it is between you, and if she is of the same mind, you need to discuss that not-so-little detail. Okay?” Her eyes bored into his own, conveying the importance of everything that she had just told him.
Daemon nodded and squeezed his mother’s hands. “I understand, mother. I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime, I think I’ll head up to bed, if that’s alright?”
She smiled and released her son. “Of course. Rest well.”
Daemon circled the table to where his mother sat and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. When he pulled away, she grabbed his chin. “Promise me that you’ll consider inviting her to the celebration. I would love to meet the woman who has stolen my son’s heart in a matter of days.” With a wink, she released his chin, allowing him to stand to his full height once more.
He shook his head but smiled. “I’ll think about it. Goodnight, Mother.”
“Goodnight, my son.”
As the Crown Prince, Daemon had one of the largest suites in the castle; not that he spent much time in it. There was a study, or sitting area, that had two sets of large paned glass doors that opened onto the attached balcony and looked out over the castle grounds and out to the city beyond.
His study was simple, with pale gray walls that gave it an airy feel.
He had a desk, and a simple sitting area with worn leather furniture surrounding a low table–that still held the maps and books of Lyndaria that he had been perusing before he left. There was an entire wall of bookcases that held everything from his private collection of novels, to information and history on Kalmeera, The Sapphire Isles as a whole, and all of Ixora.
Opposite the windows, was his bedchamber, which was the complete opposite of his study. Swathed in dark shades of charcoal and the deepest teals.
His bed was stained the same color as his ship, while the bedding and rugs brought a pop of rich color to the space. A bronze chandelier hung from the ceiling, and there were coordinating sconces that hung on the wall over twin side tables that matched the bed frame.
Black stone made up the majority of his bathing chamber, all except for the large tub that sat in the center of the floor. It was large enough to fit four people and made of marble that contrasted the rest of the room. Black veins coursed through the white stone of the tub, reminding Daemon of the tendrils of his magic.
Daemon stepped into his suite and pulled the door closed behind him. Leaning against it, he ran his hands through his hair before dragging them down his face. Letting out a groan, he strolled across the room to the bar that was nestled between the floor-to-ceiling windows. He poured himself a finger of whiskey, and he drained the glass–not even letting the flavor settle on his tongue before pouring another.
Taking the crystal glass and decanter with him across the room, he sat behind his desk and let his body sink into the worn leather. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Daemon finished his drink before pulling Auraelia’s letter from his pocket.
Unfolding it, he laid it out on the desk and reread the words that were still ingrained in his mind.
She wants this.
Grabbing a piece of parchment, he picked up the black feather quill that sat on his desk and began to pen his response tohis star.
Daemon sat at his desk for what seemed like hours, writing and rewriting his response to Auraelia. He couldn’t seem to turn the words swirling around in his mind into a coherent thought on paper.
Between the words he wanted to say, and the ones that his mother had planted in his head, he was a mess. He was unsure if he wanted to invite her to the solstice celebration as his mother had suggested. Their relationship was new and balanced precariously on the edge on a blade. One false move could send them teetering over the edge. That aside, his mother’s reminder of the treaty was enough to send his mind spiraling all on its own.
He knew of the long-standing treaty of course, but it had been written centuries ago so he had just assumed it wasn’t a prevalent issue. But his mother bringing it to light showed just how real, and how current, that treaty was.
“No two persons destined to reign, shall share in the blessed tradition of matrimony if it should intertwine the two houses of rule. The Court of Emerald and the Court of the Sapphire Isles agree to work with each other, and not against each other. For the betterment of the whole of Ixora, there shall never be one in control. With a system of checks and balances from the Lords and Ladies of courts surrounding our realm, may the goddesses shine their light down upon their people.”
Thinking of how much that treaty complicated the already challenging situation between him and Auraelia, made his head throb. As the crown prince, he knew his duty to his position and his people; as did Auraelia. But as a man of flesh and bone and blood, he knew what was in his soul, and his soul called to hers.
Daemon took a deep, cleansing breath and pressed his quill to the parchment. When he was satisfied with the letter, he folded the parchment and sealed it with midnight colored wax and pressed his signet ring into the warm liquid. Then with a wave of his hand, it was gone.
He let a small smile form on his lips.
Sliding his chair back from his desk, he stood, and headed into his bedchamber for a much-needed shower and sleep.
Chapter Twenty
Auraelia
Auraeliawoketothesound of curtains being drawn away from the windows. The sound, coupled with the bright light of the early morning, had her reaching for a blanket to cover her head, only to find there was none. She sat up abruptly, the book she had been reading the night before toppling to the floor. Reaching for the fallen novel, she lost her balance and rolled from the couch in her sitting room onto the floor, landing with a surprised yelp. Groaning, she rested her head on the cool wooden floor.
