Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

1

It was a fine autumn day, but Matei found no pleasure in it.

He looked up at the glittering façade of the palace, wondering how he could once have called this opulent place home. He saw nothing inviting in it now. White walls stretched up toward the blue heavens, which seemed colder and more distant than they ever had before. The executioner's platform still stood in the Sovereign Square, a short distance away from where Matei and Mhera walked, arm-in-arm, toward the main doors of their former home.

Matei could recall being happy here, once upon a time, but that had been when he was a child; he was a man now, with a man's worries. And although the reminder of how close he and Mhera had been to death loomed near at hand, what was on Matei's mind in that moment was Rhea. What if she did not survive? Aun had seen to her the night before and had treated the ugly wound on her arm, but Rhea had not woken.

"What does Kaori want?"

Matei looked down at Mhera, whose voice had called back his wandering mind. They had just been summoned by Kaori, the middle son of the late emperor Korvan and one of Matei's half-brothers.

"He wants to talk about the succession," said Matei as they mounted the sweeping steps leading up to the grand front doors of the palace. There were usually trios of guards on either side of those doors, but today the attendants wore forest rangers' clothes instead of imperial livery, and on their cheeks were the tattooed markes of the Arcborn.

The days of Emperor Korvan's brittle silver stars and bloody roses had ended, that much was certain; what was to come was still to be seen. The elder prince, Koren, had fled the city with his wife and son after the chaos of the day before. Matei knew what must lay ahead: Kaori must wish to lay his claim to a throne that rightfully belonged to the people. But Kaori and his kind—including Mhera—were the losers in a rebellion for rulership of Penrua.

Mhera's voice was soft, but he could hear worry in it; she knew as well as he did that there could be no happy reason for them all to convene on such a matter. "What is there to talk about?"

"You'll have to ask him that, Mher." Once they had gained the top of the steps, the two Hanpean rebels guarding the doors nodded to Matei and opened to him and Mhera. Mhera's hand slid away from Matei's elbow, and she led the way inside.

Matei was struck by how familiar everything was and, at the same time, how out of place he felt. He had not lived here in so long it was a world he knew only from a dream. His mother, the Golden Empress, had walked these halls; so had Emperor Korvan, the man Matei had known as a father until his thirteenth year. Of course Matei, once a prince named Koreti, had walked them too. So had Mhera as a high-born girl.

Now, Matei was back as the so-called Rebel King, the leader of the movement that had brought unrest to the realm of Penrua and had broken the reign of the Starborn—hopefully, once and for all.

"It's strange to be back here," he whispered, half to himself.

"You should get used to it," Mhera replied, but her words were gentle. From her expression, he suspected she knew much of what was on his mind. She was a perceptive woman. She continued, "You're home...for better or for worse."

Matei thought, For worse. He said nothing, though, and followed Mhera up the stairs to the second level of the palace. "He wants to meet in his chambers."

Mhera led them toward where Kaori's private chambers lay, in the same wing of the palace in which Matei had slept as a boy. His eyes glanced off tapestries and paintings and gilded shields, seeing both the familiar and the unfamiliar eerily intermingling.

When they came upon Kaori's chamber, the door was standing half open. Now that they had arrived, Matei's heart fell into his stomach. He had not had time to properly consider the succession. Being taken off-guard by a discussion on the matter flustered him. He drew a deep breath, resolving to stand his ground.