The morning of Tor Brinon’s funeral dawned bright and clear, a crisp breeze stirring the bright autumn leaves into spirals of dancing color. Enari sat in her room, dressed in a borrowed black gown, and stared solemnly out at the birds singing in the gardens. She felt that the world should have stopped, the birds remained silent on such a somber day as this.
But that sort of poetic justice only occurred in books.
Kylan slipped in, a pale wraith in black, and climbed silently up onto the bed. She curled into a tight ball and laid her head in Enari’s lap, eyes closed. Astraeus settled onto the floor nearby and rested his chin on his paws, watching. Enari petted the girl’s hair and waited to see if she would speak.
“It’s so quiet here,” the little girl said at last, “It’s the only place in the whole palace now that is. Not even Jex’s room is nice today.” She began to cry and Enari simply put her arms around her and held her close. Sometimes, that’s all that could be done.
“Will they find him?” Kylan sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve and looking up at her with hope. “Will Jex and his friends find who took my papa?”
Enari nodded encouragingly and her confidence seemed to comfort the torina. She put her head back against Enari’s shoulder and they sat together in silence until Kylan drifted into a fitful doze. Enari rested her cheek on the girl’s hair and returned to staring out at the day. While she’d been truthful when she said the mages would catch whoever was doing these horrible things, she couldn’t help but worry they wouldn’t be in time to prevent another tragedy.
“Nani?”
She looked over her shoulder to find Jex standing in the open door and felt a wave of relief wash over her. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t slept since she saw him three days ago, and though he was impeccably dressed in his formal robes, the dark velvet only emphasized the circles beneath his eyes and chalky pallor of his skin.
She eased Kylan out of her lap and the little girl murmured in protest but didn’t wake. As quietly as she could, Enari crossed the room and into his embrace. He was soft and warm and real, an anchoring contrast to the surrealism of the past days.
“Are you alright?” he asked, returning the embrace fiercely.
“Are you? You look as if you haven’t slept for days.”
“Probably because I haven’t. I’ve brought you something,” he said, stepping back and offering her a tissue-wrapped bundle. “From a friend of mine.”
Curious, as this was an unusual time for gifts, she plucked up the folded parchment from beneath the ribbons holding it all together and broke the seal.
Lady Enari,
Jex was so kind as to relate to me the details of your unpleasant encounter with several of my employees some nights back. I would like to extend my most sincere apologies for their uncouth behavior. Enclosed, you will find compensation for your damaged property as well as a small favor, to be used once if ever you should have need of my services.
Most Sincerely Yours,
Moravelle Elshanon
P.S. I hope the color is to your liking.
Pulling away the paper, Enari withdrew a gown of cobalt blue silk. It shimmered as she turned it and intricate gold embroidery graced the cuffs, hem, and neckline. Beneath that she found a linen chemise, and like the dress, it was much finer than what had been destroyed. A black-and-gold braided belt completed the ensemble.
An envelope amidst the wrappings caught her eye and she carefully draped the gown over the back of a chair before picking it up. She upended it over her palm and a ring with a black gem set in it tumbled out. It was similar to the one Jex had, but the outside of the band was plain and there was only one jewel.
“That,” he said, closing her fingers around it, “is something you should guard very, very carefully. The Shadow Lady doesn’t issue boons lightly and it might come in handy someday. Put it out of sight, but keep it on your person always.”
While she strung the ring onto the same cord as the amulet she’d been given by Zaya, Jex crouched beside the bed and put a hand on Kylan’s shoulder, shaking her gently until she opened bleary eyes and looked around. As soon as she saw him, she scrambled into his arms. Enari watched as he hugged the girl, tears glimmering in his eyes before he blinked them back.
“You smell like Enari,” she sighed, rubbing her cheek against him.
He laughed, then turned his head to whisper in her ear for a moment before rising to his feet and taking her hand.
“I wish I could spare you this, dear heart,” he sighed, “and all that came before.”
“It’s ok, Jex. Papa is in Andehai with the Goddess now and Uncle Eryk says he’ll watch over Mama and Sarene and Anya and me from there. And the baby, too.”
Jex sniffed once, blinking rapidly before swiping a hand across his eyes. It came away wet and Enari felt tears of her own welling up. She was as moved as Jex by Kylan’s faith.
He offered his other arm to her and she took it, letting him lead them out into the hall. His boots echoed softly in the empty corridors as they walked, overlaying the quiet shuffle of slippered feet. Other than their footsteps, the palace was silent and it was as if they three were the only living souls in a world long abandoned.
Their destination was the Chapel of Roses, where the interment rites for tors and toras for centuries had been held.
“Wait here,” he whispered as they entered, directing Enari to a pew near the back before proceeding with Kylan up the aisle, ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers that followed.
He halted beside the front pew where the other torinas sat solemn in black mourning clothes. He prodded her gently towards her sisters, not seeing the searing look of disdain Sarene shot at him. Kylan was reluctant to release his hand, even at the beckoning of Anya.
“Your mother and uncles will be here in a minute, and Enari and I are just at the back. Go on now.”
She sat and scooted down the pew to snuggle into Anya’s side. He turned on his heel, moving back down the aisle to take his place beside Enari. Sarene’s eyes tracked his every move and she squinted thoughtfully at the pair.
“Stop staring, Sarene,” Anya murmured, “It’s rude.”
With a shrug, she faced front and waited for her mother and uncles to arrive.
Every occupant of the chapel rose as one when Tora Aelani crossed the threshold, escorted by her somber younger brothers. Not even her lady’s skilled hand with a makeup brush could hide the fact that she’d been weeping.
The trio moved slowly down the aisle to take their places in the front row.
The sun flooded through the huge stained glass window in the southern wall, falling on the ornate casket of Tor Brinon. An ageing priest stood behind it, silent and immobile in his hooded robes. He waited for the chamber to quiet before he began to speak.
“Today, we begin a time of deep and darkest mourning. Our beloved tor has fallen and shall rise no more.” At this he paused, looking to where the royal family sat.
“He was an honorable leader, and a man who loved his family and his people beyond measure. He will be sorely missed, for his wisdom and understanding has guided and sheltered us all…”
He was interrupted by a stifled cry from Tora Aelani. All eyes turned to her as she doubled over in the pew, clutching her belly and clenching her teeth in agony. Sarene had her hand on her mother’s shoulder and was frowning at her. Eryk rose, then fell to his knees before her, motioning Vasi to join them.
The kvinna was beside them in an instant. A brief word from Aelani, and Eryk and Jordin were helping their sister to her feet. She cried out again, the sound sharp in the still air, and the men had to half-carry her away.
Vasi looked around until she spotted Enari, then motioned for her to follow.
Jex caught her hand. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Enari’s eyes were troubled as she looked down at him. “The tora is in labor, I think,”
“N-no,” he stuttered, “No no no. She can’t be. We aren’t—we’re not ready for this!”
Her smile was bitter. “Babies have their own sense of timing, my love. I’m sorry.”