HEIR | The Cursed Monarchy | Book 1

Treachery: Part III, Chapter 14

"You brute!"

The words left her mouth, sharp and clear-cut like a dagger, breaking the silence like the crack of a whip. The unexpectedness of it, and the savagery behind her words took Daire aback.

"You're a coward!"

Daire was suddenly riding beside her. When he took her reins, Cecily felt a deeper fury than she had ever known. She gripped her palfrey's mane so tightly the horsehairs cut into her hands. Then she shut her eyes – she couldn't bear to see his face.

"Raven! Listen to me –" he pleaded.

But she cut him off. "No! Don't speak. I don't want to hear anything you have to say! You have behaved abominably. You're a horrible man!" She frowned. The hands that had once whisked her away from danger held her palfrey's reins in a stiff grip. The lips she'd considered kissing were set in an angry sneer.

"I cannot impugn the decisions of another elder in his realm!" Daire said hotly. "Would that not rouse suspicion in the eyes of the court?"

"Then you are unfit to be in command!" she retorted, too furious to consider his logic. "Does the slaughter of innocents not trouble you? Will you cast the first stone with that smugly self-righteous air of yours? Or shall I?"

Unable to establish control over her emotions, Cecily began summoning every shred of energy she could wrap her mind around. She gathered the power, not shaping it into an illusion or a shield, but rather collecting it into a pool of pure energy that grew into a maelstrom in her mind's eye. When the tides of energy turned, she released it at her target.

Time stalled for a second; the world went silent, the air strung tight with anticipation. Lifting her eyes, she looked at Daire just as the energy passed right through him, as if he and his horse were merely a mirage.

As Cecily rose up on her stirrups to look for Daire beyond her horse, he suddenly reappeared to her right. With a strong arm, he yanked her off of her horse and sent her toppling to the ground.

"Enough!" He was standing above her, legs spread, his hands on his hips. "You're beginning to bore me."

Silence, followed at last by wild, wild laughter. "You are far more dangerous when you're bored," Cecily said.

"I've had some experience dealing with spoiled children," he continued, starting to lower himself toward her, cloak belling out around him. "I have ways of putting them in their place. Now, do you intend on acting this way the entire way to Drakaene?"

Cecily propped herself up on her elbows, curious. Much was said about the second branch of Saol Eile, sitting just west of Imrath. It was a city of sorcerers and old magic, defended by wards. "What awaits us in Drakaene?"

"A royal wedding." Daire said, weary. "One which Oril refuses to attend due to his petty differences with the elves. Which poses a problem, for I seem to be short one ambassador for the realm of Bráithre Delve."

"You allowed me to be banished from my realm so that I could accompany you to a wedding?" Cecily asked incredulously, connecting the dots.

"Would you have preferred death? You're in such a state of mind at the moment that you'd say: I'd have preferred to die! Am I right?"

"Perhaps I would have preferred it," she said defiantly.

"Yes, that's what they all say - it's fashionable. Then on the verge of death you would have preferred to live, that's a fact." He relaxed, smiling when he offered her his hand. "Accompany me to Miuve Lios-Alf's wedding in Drakaene and in return I will do everything in my power to restore your good name in the Sinri Keep," he said, clearing his throat. "Truce?"