Page 10 of Queen Takes Triune
“I said pretty much the same thing to her, which lead to the message she left for you. Pull that memory from my mind so I may play it for you.”
Keeping my hand on his face, I closed my eyes and focused on his bond. His gryphon welcomed me with a whirring purr. Feathers fluttered around me, filling my nose with his leathery scent. The still, deep river of his bond flowed around me, cluttered with his memories like fallen leaves and sticks floating downstream. They brushed against me, giving me a sense of his life. So many years, so many memories. The ones closest to me were dark and filled with pain. His years in the tower, tortured by House Skye. More years than I’d been alive.
I scanned further, awed as year after year of his life floated past. It still amazed me that Daire and Rik were considered young Aima. Llewellyn wasn’t as old as Mehen but seeing the massive number of memories he carried made it easier to comprehend the length and breadth of his life. He’d seen so much. Wars no one remembered. Queendoms rising and falling, including House Isador under my mother’s reign.
And its inevitable fall with her death. No one knew I existed. Not for sure. They knew the Isador legacy hadn’t passed to the Triune, but no one knew why. She’d died to keep my birth a complete secret.
One memory floated closer, drawn by my presence in Llewellyn’s mind. I knew before it brushed against me that it would involve my mother. I sensed Esetta’s spirit like a warm, soft glowing ember. She flowed over me, the memory bubbling up out of him.
His head tipped back, his eyes blazing red-gold as the memory projected out of him to play for me. A woman with long, shining black hair swept back in a messy yet elegant bun. Glittering eyes like black diamonds. High cheekbones and lush lips with a long, graceful neck that emphasized her regal bearing. Every ounce of her screamed queen.
Esetta Isador. My mother.
So clear and perfect in his memory that I swore I could reach out and touch her.
She smiled, but her eyes gleamed with a shimmer of tears.
“You’ll hate me before this is over.”
I jerked back against Rik’s chest as if she’d struck me. It took me a moment to remember that she wasn’t speaking to me, but to Llewelyn. It washismemory, but I saw her so clearly, I felt the impact of her words.
“No. I hateher, this daughter you’re determined to have. This daughter who’ll kill you.”
“Oh, Lew, don’t think that way. She’s not killing me. She doesn’t even exist yet. I’m gladly sacrificing my life so that she might live.”
“But why?” His voice crackled with agony, raw and brutal. I could feel the pain radiating from the memory as if it were my own. “Why must we loseyouforher?”
Her gaze softened to a dreamy distance. “I had a vision, a dream from Isis. She showed me two paths. Not just two ways that I might have a daughter of my own, but also what my child would be able to accomplish. On one path, I would see her born and raise her myself. House Isador would continue as we always have. Our queendom slowly diminishing, not in wealth, but in blood. She—we—would have a wonderful life, though all Aima houses would continue the slow decline into oblivion.”
She paused, focusing back on Lew. On me, watching the vision so many years later.
“And the other path?”
“She would take not only House Isador, but also the Triune. She would rule the world, strengthened by immense power made possible by the greatest sacrifice a mother can make for her daughter. House Isador would soar in prominence, and she’d bring strong, vibrant Aima blood back to the world. We would have an immense impact on the future for generations to come, rather than slowly withering into nothing.”
“So you chose fame over us,” he replied flatly. Even in the memory, his heart weighed like a ton of cold iron.
She stared back steadily at him. Her chin rose incrementally, her eyes flashing. She didn’t have to rebuke him.
He bowed his head and whispered, “Forgive me, my queen.”
She lightly stroked her fingers over his bowed head, but he didn’t look back up at her. I could feel her phantom fingers on my own head, and my heart twisted with yearning. The agonizing loss a child feels when she lost her mother very young and never knew her touch. Never felt her kisses at night as she was tucked into bed. Never felt her mother’s arms wrapped around her.
“A queen must make hard choices for the house and the future of the world. Would I rather live in happiness with my beloved Blood and my daughter? Of course. You know my heart, Lew. The cost is high. So terribly high. But that’s what makes this sacrifice all the greater. That’s what will power my intention and magic into the life of my daughter. She’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Even the Triune will tremble as she rises. And yes, it’s with immense pride and joy that I know my sacrifice makes this possible. Not just for us, for House Isador, but for the Great One who will walk on this earth once more through Her chosen avatar.”
She tipped Llewellyn’s face back up to hers, and my heart clenched. Her face looked like it’d been carved from cold marble, and her eyes gleamed with the dark power of a goddess who could give life… or retribution.
“You know the plan I have set forth, Llewellyn Isador. But if you’d rather have peace, I will give it to you. You will never suffer what lies ahead, but neither will you live to serve another Isador queen.”
It dawned on me that she meant death. She would kill her own Blood, the alpha she loved, to spare him the torture in House Skye.
He didn’t hesitate, though I felt his gryphon shredding his heart with vicious talons. “I will always serve House Isador. I am ready and willing to carry out my queen’s bidding, no matter what it is.”
Her face softened, tragic pain in her eyes mixing with the sweetest, softest love. “Then this message is for my daughter, Shara Isador, the daughter yet to come. The Great One has dreamed of you for millennia. She has great hopes and plans for you, sweet child. She has waited with perfect patience for the right time and queen willing to sacrifice everything in order to give you life. For the right queen to give you shelter away from the courts so that you can determine your own path free of the rigid traditions Aima hold so dear. The very same traditions that have crippled us.
“Don’t be afraid to break free of these traditions, daughter. Isis wants you to tear down the walls and rebuild the courts in Her image. Inyourimage. For Isis walks and breathes in you. Long live the greatest Aima queen yet to come and ever to be, Shara Isador.”
“Long live House Isador,” Llewellyn said, both in the memory and in the present.
