The Emerald Lily (Vampire Blood #4)

Brennalyn pointed to the table. “Food.”

Their shoulders slumped at once as they dragged their feet toward the table.

“Heaven forbid.” Brennalyn tsked. “Just grab some and go.”

Like a pack of wild animals, they leaped at the table, each grabbing a handful of scones and berries and running out the partially opened door.

“The door, for heaven’s sake!” shouted Brennalyn, picking up a scone they’d dropped on the floor.

A moment’s pause, then the kind-faced one, Denny, popped his head back in and smiled at Brennalyn.

“Thank you, darling,” she said. He nodded and closed the door. Their boyish whoops and shouts faded as they fled into the woods.

“They are quite active, your boys,” said Mina.

“Quite,” agreed Brennalyn.

“Animals,” muttered Beatrice, sweeping the crumbs they left behind onto a napkin. “Whenever we return to Winter Hill and away from the training camp, I hope Papa gets a tutor to teach them to be gentlemen.”

Helena took the steaming pot of tea from Brennalyn after she’d poured a cup for both Mina and herself. “Leaving the training camp won’t change their behavior. They’ll just spend all day in the sparring yard with Captain Mikhail and his men.”

Mina’s pulse rocketed at the sound of his name.

Brennalyn’s dark eyes glanced in Mina’s direction over the rim of her teacup before aiming her response at Helena. “Once we are back at Winter Hill, they’ll be taking up their studies again. And yes, Beatrice, I suspect you’ll all be receiving tutors in the proper etiquette of both gentlemen and ladies.”

Mina’s heart swelled at the thought of Friedrich Volya, the Duke of Winter Hill, taking in these seven orphans as his own children. “And may I ask how you girls feel about that? Becoming ladies of the gentry?” She finished off her buttery scone.

Helena dipped her poised chin. “I am very happy at the prospect. Though I’m not so sure Beatrice is.”

Beatrice twisted her hands in her apron in her lap and bit her lip before eyeing Brennalyn. “My only fear is I’ll not be able to cook if I become a proper lady.”

“Beatrice, you know the duke wouldn’t allow you to be unhappy. He only wants what’s best for you.”

Izzy set her empty glass of water on the table. “You’ll have to learn to be a pwoper duchess, too, Mimi.”

Brennalyn’s teacup rattled as she set it in the saucer. “Don’t remind me. Let’s just get past this war first, then we’ll worry about all the rest. For now, this is our home. And we’ll try to make the boys behave as best we can.” She wiped her hands on her napkin in her lap. “Though it is hard when they are living out their dreams to become warriors.”

Helena tossed her head with a little laugh. “Or soldiers or pirates or any manly occupation that allows them to wield a sword and stick something with it.”

They all laughed at that. Even Mina.

“Here we are, prattling on about ourselves. Forgive me, Your Highness. How are you feeling after your journey? And after—” Brennalyn stopped herself.

“It’s all right. I’m doing quite well, if you must know. But apparently, I was in the most capable of hands under the protection of Captain Mikhail.”

“He’s the bestest evew,” said Izzy with a gleam in her eyes. “Except Papa, of course.”

“Of course,” agreed Mina, smiling at Brennalyn.

“Mimi, can we go watch the boys shoot bows and awows?” she asked.

“I don’t think Princess Mina wants to go and watch a bunch of boys and men learning archery.”

“Actually,” said Mina, folding her napkin on her plate. “I’d like nothing better. Archery was one of my favorite pastimes at Briar Rose.”

“A princess—I mean, a lady can learn archery?” asked Beatrice, incredulous, wide-eyed with excitement at the prospect.

“Oh, yes. I was quite good.” She smiled. “I’m afraid I spent many hours learning such skills and few in the company of others. My steward was very protective.” She frowned with a flicker of memory.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” asked Brennalyn.

“Yes.” She wiped away her frown, but the bitter memory of her lonely life at Briar Rose stuck. She rose from her chair with new vigor, “I say we go and see what all the boys are up to.”

“Yay!” shouted Izzy, rushing for the door.

They laughed and filed out in a more ladylike fashion. Mina smiled, but that memory pricked like thorns. Steward Thorwald had pretended to show her the greatest respect, presenting her to the House, but making them all bow and never allowing her to have a voice. Then he’d send her off to a ball or the theater, fully chaperoned by Legionnaires and Kathleen, before shuffling her back to Briar Rose. For the first time, she saw the reality of what he’d done. Cut her off, shut her up, cast her out of her rightful domain. The monarch of Arkadia was the leader of the House. But she’d only ever been so in name. Steward Thorwald had ousted her and taken that right when she was a young orphan and had never allowed her the opportunity to reclaim that role.

Mikhail was right. She must garner her strength. Prepare for the inevitable. For the time was near when she’d need her voice to be heard, whether Steward Thorwald wanted to hear her or not. Whether the lords of Arkadia wanted to hear her or not.

“Yes, ladies.” Mina took Izzy’s outstretched hand. “Let us go show the boys how a proper bow and arrow is to be shot.”

They smiled in feminine conspiracy, their laughter rolling up into the boughs of Silvane Forest. Once more, Mina inhaled deep of the magic here, as if it were calling her toward her destiny. Guiding her to a fate she never knew would be hers but had been intended for her all along.





Chapter Twelve


“When will the last troops come over?” asked Aleksei.

Mikhail observed the archers from his stance behind them, arms crossed and mood foul. “In a fortnight, I imagine. Nikolai’s cousin Riker will lead them across the Cimmaron Sea and leave the families in the safety of Cutters Cove.”

Aleksei nodded, his own countenance grave as he glanced up at the mass of clouds growing heavy. “Is Riker healed enough to fight?”

“Nikolai says so.”

Mikhail heard Friedrich’s boys tromping through the woods before he saw them launch onto the training field. Nate, the wild one whose father forged weapons for the Black Lily, was with them, as usual. Caden thrust an arm out to stop them from running out like fools in front of the line of archers. He’d be a good leader one day.

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