Leta's family were presumably killed during a Rebellion, and she was whisked away by one of her father's most trusted guardsmen to a faraway island to live out her days in exile, as ordered by the new King Calas. After King Calas's death, the Lady L...
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Oaktyde was much as Bastian remembered it. Mostly, that meant wet, an impossible luxury for a desert-born soul. The waters in the harbor, the water cascading from the many streams in the cliffs, the water that flowed into the rivers and canal ways of the city, all were a simple blessing to the General. The rampant, colorful, glossy-leaved plants in the fall were even more of a boon, as was the rich air that he took in with every breath.
"I am most grateful that you have come to visit with me, Bast. I feel as though there is much for us to discuss."
After offering a drink to Bastian, he took a deep sip from his glass and felt the liquid burn as it slid down his throat and into his stomach. He slicked his pink lips and then swallowed to clear his mouth of any wine remnants before he looked again into the man's eyes, waiting for a response from the elusive military commander.
With a pleasant smile, Bastian responded, "You honor me, your Majesty. I was happy to receive your summons." He paused for a moment, to collect his thoughts against the voices that battered against his mind. He maintained his pleasant demeanor, and only relaxed a second before he continued, "There are a few things that I might ask you, as well."
The king moved further into the room and motioned for Bastian to follow. He sat himself on a long sofa next to a sleeping Pomeranian; the king looked to Bastian sitting on an identical sofa. Behind Kyan were the open windows and a chandelier illuminating the seating area where the pair now sat. The marble coffee table between them was scattered with books and notes in the handwriting of the Blood King. In the middle sat a gold vase, spilling out flowers freshly cut from the royal garden.
"I would start with what I would consider the most pressing matter," he began, speaking plainly at first. He only paused to gather his thoughts before continuing, "The riots at Millstone. Arthur has expelled our diplomats and subjected all who honored our alliance to shocking cruelty. If you are willing, I would wish for you to travel to Millstone to handle the situation."
A soft sigh escaped his lips. He knew that could not be. It was not his part in all of this to stand guard. He couldn't promise to help, for there were plans in motion that he did not know if he could stop, nor could he say he wanted to stop.
"If I must be there, as you say. I fear that little time remains. Our alliance with Arthur is now shown to be what it has always been: a farce." After a few beats, he added, "I've also received word from my wife."
Expectantly, his light blue eyes flicked back down to the commander sitting across from him and his face retracted into a neutral expression. "And what word from Hillshire?"
"The Lady Leta is in the Summer Country."
His light blue eyes focused on Bastian's and he said evenly, "Really."
"And companions."
Kyan arched an eyebrow. "Do not spare me any details."
"The Lady Leta, Ser Cedric and Ser Tristan have been guests of Eldarmar for several weeks now. Soon, Leta and Narcissa will be riding out to gather allies among the other kingdoms."
