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-Whisper of War-
Chapter 1
Two years earlier...
The ship arrived quietly in the port, its rudder whirling gently in the water and sending golden ripples across the vibrant sea. Gaenor watched its arrival alone, his tall figure partially hidden in the shadows of the stone walls separating the port from the rest of Allayna. He didn’t want to be recognized today.
The sun dropped a little further, and the rays shifted from gold to a dark red, splattering the surface of the water with iridescent magnolia hues. The ship had finally banked, and the first of the passengers were beginning to step off the ship and onto Allayna’s sandy beaches. Gaenor’s clear blue eyes searched through the crowd, a little impatiently. There was no mistaking Evelyn. Her tumbling golden locks and shining turquoise eyes had an indescribably pixie look to them. Evelyn’s petite frame moved through the throng lithely, and her eyes, too, searched through the crowd.It took her a couple moments to locate Gaenor, but when she did her eyes lit up and she broke into a sprint, throwing herself into her brother’s arms.
“Hiding from me?” Evelyn asked, smiling.
Gaenor laughed lightly and pulled his sister into another long embrace. “Three years, Evelyn. Do you have any idea how quiet it has been around here without you?”
“I can only imagine the desolation,” Evelyn sighed dramatically. She pulled out of her brother’s arms and looked around, brilliant blue eyes soaking in everything from the sunset to the beautiful sloping mountains in the distance. She inhaled deeply and murmured, “I’ve missed this place so much.” Evelyn glanced towards her brother with a new sense of urgency. “Tell me everything. Everything. I want to hear about everyone – even Josie.”
Her brother took her bag from her and slung it over his shoulder. His words were guarded, carefully chosen. “There’s not too much to say. Things haven’t changed much around here.” It was a lie, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell his sister the truth. What was he supposed to say? ‘There have been ambassadors here from Serun, from Ellesworth, from Finlic, from Runslord. There’s trouble in the west. There’s been talk of … war.’ Would she believe him? Would she even know where these countries were?
But Evelyn was chatting along gaily, unawares of the thoughts going on in her brother’s head. “How’s Ellie? Has she gotten married yet? And Lainey – oh, I’ve missed her smile so much. How is she? She’s four now, isn’t she? I can’t believe it. She was only one when I left. And I heard there was a new baby! What’s his name again? Lukas? You have to tell me everything, Gaenor.” She looked towards her brother earnestly, stars dancing in her eyes and in her smile.
Evelina Inara, the second daughter in the royal family of Allayna, was not the prettiest of the princesses. Wild and elfish, she lacked both the elegance of her older sister Elinor and the extravagant beauty of her younger sister Jocelyn. But the irresistibly sweet air of the country did wonders to her, and standing against the setting sun, surrounded by mountains and water and tall proud trees, Evelyn was radiant. Her eyes sparkled shamelessly, and the corners of her pink lips slanted upwards in a quirky smile. Even the sharp-boned nature of her cheeks and the haughty curves of her eyebrows that she had so long detested seemed to fit well with her. Evelyn glowed – if only because she was at home, in Allayna. She was tied to the soil, tied to the country, tied to the honey-tinged air…tied in heart and in soul, although she did not yet know it.
Gaenor watched her talk with a soft smile. It was nice having Evelyn back, despite all the problems at home. “Ellie’s fine,” he said. “No, she hasn’t gotten married yet. Mother’s worried, as you could probably guess, although I don’t see anything wrong with it personally. Lainey’s fine too. She’s a lot like you, actually,” Gaenor added with a sideways grin at his sister, “only without the dirt smudged cheeks and the impish grin.”
Evelyn laughed.
“The little one’s great,” Gaenor continued. “Luke’s got everyone wrapped around his fingers already – he knows just what to say and when to say it. He’s incredibly handsome. You’ll like him. And Josie…” Gaenor laughed. “She’s as self-centered as usual, but she’s alright. She’s been caught up with all her suitors lately, and frankly hasn’t spent much time around the house.”
“And mom? Dad?”
“They’re…” Tired, Gaenor wanted to say. Worried, although they try hard not to show it. “They’re fine,” he said half-heartedly, and Evelyn in her excitement did not catch the troubled crease in his forehead.
“Have they all missed me?” Evelyn asked with another quick smile.
“There’s no doubt.”
Evelyn laughed, gratified. “Even Josie?” she winked.
“Josie proves the exception to every rule,” Gaenor said, and Evelyn laughed again.
“Too true,” Evelyn murmured. “But I’ve missed Josie too, in spite of myself. Three years is far too long.” She frowned, a little distraught.
“What was it like?”
Evelyn shrugged. “I can’t say I liked it too much. It served its purpose, I suppose. I’m better educated. I can wield a sword now. I can fight. Which is, I suppose, what I wanted to learn. It’s why I left. But now that I’ve learned how…I don’t suppose I like it much anymore.” She looked over at her brother, a little anxiously. “I’m not explaining myself too well, am I?”
“It’s okay, Evelyn. Sword fighting isn’t everyone’s thing.”
“No, no. You don’t understand. It wasn’t sword fighting that I didn’t like. I loved that part of it. It’s just…” She swallowed. “We took courses, too. You know? Lessons about the Great War. How it started, what happened, how we won… And it was great, hearing about all the victories. But there was something sickening about it at the same time.” She shook her head. “I don’t quite understand it myself. But I think, at some point I realized that…sword work isn’t just fancy moves and footwork. Sword work is about…death.” She shivered. “I’m so glad we’re done with wars.”
Gaenor felt his muscles tighten, and he looked at her sharply. “What makes you say that?”
“That we’re done with wars?” Evelyn looked over at him quizzically.
“Yeah.”
Evelyn stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. “Don’t be silly, Gaenor. Everyone knows we’re done with wars.”
He was silent for a moment. “But does anyone know why?”
Evelyn looked at him again, as if unsure of whether he was serious. “Well,” she started again, a little perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean just that. Why is everyone so sure we’re done with wars? How do we know? We’ve had a century of peace, I know,” he said quickly when he saw Evelyn open her mouth in protest. “And I know things are fine here. But Allayna isn’t the world. You should know this Evelyn, having been out of the country for three years. There’s places out there – places that we haven’t even heard of. When’s the last time anyone asked about anywhere outside of Allayna? When’s the last time someone cared about world news? We’re too wrapped up in our peace. Our prosperity. Our wealth. What of other countries?”
Evelyn was staring at him wide-eyed now. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a little bit too far, Gaenor?”
He looked at her, distraught, and then ran a hand through his hair. It was just as he had feared. She hadn’t understood. He laughed shakily, and shook his head reproachfully at his stupidity. There was no use. No one understood – not Jay, nor Lucian, nor even Alec, all of whom he had briefly mentioned his thoughts to. But then again, none of them had been at the conference. None of them had spoken with the foreign ambassadors and heard what they had to say. “A black cloud hangs over my country,” one of them had said. Which one was it? Gaenor racked his memory. It had been the ambassador from South Sardinthia. A tall man with shifty eyes and gray hair. A man who had sat at the table with them and scoffed at his father. A man with words like ice. “You sit here, in your palace, in your Light. But do you hear the cries? Do you see the fire, burning countries like yours? When will you wake up and realize that Allayna is not the world?”
“Everything goes full-circle, son,” his father had told him afterwards. “That is what the man was saying. And I fear…I fear he is right.”
But who would understand? He saw the doubt in his father’s eyes, the weariness at having to persuade an entire peoples – living in wealth and in prosperity – that the suffering of a family a continent away was reason for war.
And so Gaenor just smiled at his sister, and hid the fear. “You’re right, Evelyn. I’m taking this too far.”
Jocelyn was away with a suitor, but was due to return soon.
Jairdan and Eliora, king and queen of Inara, promised to hold a banquet the next day so that everyone could see Evelyn again. “You’ve grown so much, darling,” Eliora had exclaimed before enveloping her daughter into a hug.
Everything seemed normal back at home. The white palace still stood tall, surrounded in a circle of proud oaks. The sky was dark by the time she arrived, and the stars glittered overhead, winking and smiling and welcoming her back. Home was perfect, as far as Evelyn was concerned. There simply was no substitute.
The next day, the palace woke up at dawn to its usual bustle of activity. The servants were up and about, sweeping floors, cleaning windows, and cooking breakfast for the countless people that were certain to be clamoring for food by 7 am. It was usual for there to be guests at the palace. Many were family members of the palace guards; some were policymakers and advisors – all of whom seemed to drift in and out of the palace without warning. And of course, there was always a suitor or two for Jocelyn.
Josie herself arrived sometime late in the morning, looking every bit the haughty princess. She didn’t walk; she pranced. She didn’t smile; she batted her eyelashes coquettishly and then dimpled in a way males found universally irresistible. Jocelyn Inara was undeniably the most beautiful of all the Inara girls. While most of the other girls had eyes that were only “soft blue” or “turquoise,” Josie’s eyes ranged through all the shades of blue. And as for her hair, it looked like someone had plunged a dipper into the sun and spilled all of its colors into her locks. The gold was that glamorous.
Now that Josie was sixteen, she was legally old enough to be wed. The suitors poured in by the dozen at first – from Dut, from Vas, from Curi, from the Matian Islands. Finally, tired of entertaining suitors from countries he didn’t know, King Jairden set his foot down and announced that there would only be two suitors arriving each day for Josie – and he would personally choose them.
The two suitors seated at the breakfast table the day after Evelyn’s arrival were both strangers to her. The first, unlike most suitors, had not come of his own will. His name was Ken Calix and he was the son of the king of Zions, a major trading partner with Allayna. King Jairden met Ken while visiting Zions for a trade agreement, and finding the boy to be both intelligent and honest, recruited him back for a visit. A temporary visit, Jairden had said. But they all knew he hoped it would be permanent.
Ken was a good-looking guy, indeed one of the better looking suitors. Unlike Gaenor, who held his charm in his clear blue eyes and windswept dirty-blond hair, Ken had hair the color of rich, dark, chocolate and a pair of mysterious earthy eyes that felt both safe and disconcerting at once.
To Jairden’s pleasure, Ken did decide to stay beyond the planned visit. Jairden explained Ken’s desire to remain as a sure sign of the attraction between Ken and his third daughter, Josie. But to everyone else, it was less clear. The attraction was there, definitely, but to all bystanders it seemed curiously one-sided. Josie, who up until then had appeared to view her suitors as nothing more than flings, followed Ken day and night – focusing all of her flirtations, all of her smiles and murmurs and giggles, on the sole suitor.
And Ken, although polite as always, didn’t seem to care.
Gaenor had picked up on all of these subtleties, and as he sat down beside Evelyn for breakfast, he pointed out the boy and told her the story of the mysterious Ken Calix. Evelyn was incredulous (“A boy ignore Josie?”) and she stared at the guy until he looked up and caught her eyes, and she had to avert her eyes quickly, blushing madly and stammering to her brother, “Yeah, I guess he’s pretty good looking.”
The other suitor was new. His name was Ciro Rennae, and he was from Finlic, one of the many islands that Evelyn had never heard of. Typical of the Finliques, the suitor had silvery blond hair and light blue eyes. Atypical of the Finliques, he also had a smug smile that seemed triumphant, arrogant, and rather suspicious all at once. It took Evelyn only one glance at the suitor to decide she didn’t like him.
“And if he’s not up to my standards,” Evelyn announced, “I know he won’t be up to Josie’s either.” Meanwhile, she snuck another look at Ken.
Gaenor laughed. “You never know. Judging by the way Ken’s been treating her, she might be desperate enough to settle.”
Evelyn frowned. “But Ciro looks like a shifty sort of character.”
Gaenor was amused. “Evelyn, you’d think half the people in this world are shifty. Not everyone is as nice as we are.” He stuffed the last of a croissant into his mouth and rose, stretching. “Well, sis, it looks like I’m off. I’ve got some errands to run for dad, and I’d like to catch up on some archery practice. But I’ll see you around later, eh?”
Evelyn nodded, absentmindedly. “Okay. Have fun. Don’t shoot Josie’s suitors by accident.”
“Oh?” Gaenor asked mischievously. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Don’t you mean don’t hit a particular one of Josie’s suitors by accident?” He straightened and winked. “Don’t glance over at him so often. I think he’s noticed it.”
Evelyn watched Gaenor leave with a horrified expression.