C.C. Peñaranda

A Clash of Three Courts

Bia || Alpi 

The Prince of High Farrow lay beside her. Propped up on one elbow, he pretended to be lost inside a book. They'd been silent for some time, but she knew he wasn't reading because of how fast he turned the pages. Tauria bit her lip to suppress her chuckle, wondering if he was simply enjoying the images instead. Something she'd quickly comne to learn about the prince was that texts and knowledge weren't his idea of fun, but he was incredibly smart all the same. The way Nik could analyze visuals was admirable. It were as if he created his own stories and outlook without being influenced by a single written word.

"I can't possibly concentrate with you staring at me all the time." Nik's emerald eyes twinkled with mischief as he flashed themn up to her.

Tauria's gaze snapped down to his, and his side smile, a partial smirk, momentarily stole her response. The fire that danced across his irises was enrapturing. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. 

“You're perfectly capable of reading your own. Perhaps you should choose something with more pictures."

Nik rumbled with laughter, the vibrations creatinga shiver over her skin at such close proximity. "I’m trying not to be insulted."

"It wasn't intended as an insult. Simply an observation that you might prefer more visuals."

As Nik's smile stretched to a grin and his eyes twinkled with delight, Tauria had to avert her gaze in a flush of embarrassment. Some things hadn't changed since the day they met in her home kingdom of Fenstead. Nik's insufferable deviance was one of them.

Nik's presence wasn't forgotten for even a second, but she was so fully immersed by the world she took them to that she didn't balk under the featherlight impression of his eyes on her. She couldn't be sure how much time passed, but Nik slowly inched closer under the guise of restlessness, and soon only a slither of space remained between them. His breaths blew over her chest, which was bare in the low cut of the gown that felt suddenly scandalous. Then, when his fingers carefully grazed her waist, Tauria's next words stumbled for the first time. She didn't look at him, attempting to continue reading as though it were a mistake. But his hand moved, flattening and curving over her abdomen, torturously slow, leaving a tingling trail that shot to her mnost desirous parts. Her breathing fluctuated too much to trust her voice wouldn't waver, but her eyes remained fixed on the text.

"Don't stop," he said huskily, sending any response or focus scattering. “Unless you want me to."

Tauria swallowed hard, her heartbeat fast and longing. And then she continued. Her tale took a slower pace while her mind scrambled, reading but not absorbing a single word, because all she could track was his every hint of movemernt.

"Your Majesty, there has been a new arrival who requests an audience."

Again, the guard spared Tauria a flash of attention. Her muscles locked in anticipation, wondering who it could be to make him feel the need for such caution around her. Nik wouldn't be so foolish as to come after her so soon. He wouldn't—

"He claims his name is Lycus Warner, a General of Fenstead."

Tauria's gasp couldn't be stifled. Her disappointment that it wasn't who she first thought was quickly dissi- pated by her world-shifting shock.

His name rang on repeat, her mind refusing to believe she'd heard it right. Because she'd mourned that name long ago, believed he'd died defending his court when Fenstead fell.

Tauria shot to her feet, uncaring of etiquette in her spike of adrenaline.

"We are not done here," Varlas said coolly to his guard while his eyes locked on her in silent command.

Tauria frowned in defiance. "If I may —"

"Sit, Tauria." His smooth order cut off her words and flared her temper like a dismissed child. But her compliance would not be so easily gained now she knew what he intended to keep her from.

"I did not know General Lycus Warner was alive. I will go to him — unless you are detaining me here, King Varlas."

His expression twitched with wrath at her standoff. She couldn't understand why he was so determined to keep her here for the petty feast she had no appetite for. Perhaps it wasn't wise to counter his request. She was trying to play smart after all — had to bide her time and gain his trust. But in that moment, she didn't care. Not when she was in reach of being reunited with her childhood friend. Against her desire, she extended the respect of waiting until Varlas granted her leave, but she stared into his hardened eyes with equal challenge, watching as he battled between asserting his authority and abiding by her request.

Nik blinked, stumped at the swerve of topic. "Why would you ask?"

"To understand. Because as your friends...we can't sit by and watch you make the mistake of a lifetime. And for your kind, that is a long, torturous existence."

Jakon couldn't hear it with his human senses, but Nik's pulse picked up, his guard ready to close him off entirely at the probing inquisition. I don't know what one has to do with the other," he said. An edge of warning had slipped into his tone as a natural defense. It might have reflected on his face as Jakon balked. Just for a second, until he casually reached out a hand for the bow. Nik's jaw ground at the distraction, but he obliged.

Jakon swiped up the quiver of arrows, casually strolling toward the archery range at the far end. Nik followed him, not forgetting for a second he awaited an explanation for Jakon's odd question.

"What if your mate could still cross your path in this lifetime?" Jakon didn't wait for instruction — didn't seem to need it. Nik observed him with crossed arms as he nocked and aimed with a decent enough poise to be more than a novice.

"A mate is a match of the power we have within. It's not always felt in the heart." When he let the shot go, Nik followed it, and he didn't hide the lift of his brow that it hit one of the middle targets close to the center

"That you're not making a mistake because your soul calls to her by some bond of magick, but because you love her. Loved her even before you knew about the bond."

They'd traveled far enough now that Tauria was confident in her ability to speak with caution on the topic that had been causing chaos in her thoughts, but she was in no hurry as she approached another large pond. She crouched and decided to sit on its broad rim with the urge to feel the cool water.

"They're magnificent," she muttered, admiring the tango of colorful fish.

Lennox stayed standing. "I believe they call them Coyrico fish. They're considered spiritual. Many come by the ponds to pray or offer their wishes."

Stunned into silence, neither male had the words to counter Marlowe's passionate speech. She was right, and Nik fully admired her dedication to the cause. She saw the grand scale this could reach: a bigger war beyond the possible clash of three courts when High Farrow, Olmstone, and Fenstead negotiated a treaty.

AI MANOOOOO ctz que é o Mordecai MEU CU AAAAAAA

Tauria didn't recognize the voice, but its dark caress slithered down her spine.

"She needs time to adjust, for us to gain her trust."

"I said we could try it your way, but the clock is ticking."

"I have the utmost confidence they will. We have tested royal blood before. But with the marriage, we only need one of them to survive. If neither does, then they were both too weak to ever be fit for purpose."

"Maybe not yours, but it has always been mine."

Tauria's pulse jumped rapid, and she blessed the wind for howling loud enough to disguise it and carry her scent away from them without her intervention. She had to get a look to know who he spoke to. Her every hair stood on end.

She had been a fool, content to excuse Varlas's absence as preoccupation with other matters when it was what she should have noticed first. Varlas wasn't ignoring her presence in Olmstone; he was making his own plans for it. The stab of betrayal came as hot as it did icy with a rage to demand why, and in sadness, Tauria wondered what she'd done to deserve it.

"I don't care what it takes. That son of yours doesn't seem to be playing his role too convincingly. By the second full moon I will be here, and I expect to have them both. The ceremony will be spectacular indeed."

Tauria's gloved fingers curled around the peak of the slanted rooftop, halfway to hoisting herself up for a glimpse…

A hand clamped over her mouth and nose, followed by an arm hooked around her waist, and before she knew it, she was twisted and pinned with her back against a strong force. Her cry of surprise halted with the scent that wrapped around her. It wasn't relief but ice-cold dread she felt at knowing her captor's identity.

"Stay silent," Tarly warned, no more than a wisp of the wind.

"You did it perfectly," Tauria said, her somberness echoing in her quiet voice. "What would you like to plant?"

Opal's face turned contemplative until her gaze fell to Tauria's hands. "Those." Her eyes lit up as she pointed to the spindlelilly. "Ive never seen them before. I've never seen a lot of the flowers you grow. They're all so pretty."

Tauria wanted to match her happiness, but she couldn't bloom a whole bed of spindlelillies in Olmstone. It was Fenstead's mourning flower.

Tauria's attention fell to the princess at her alarm, quickly scanning her over for injury. But the princess was unharmed except for a saddened expression, her blue gaze fixed on Tauria's lap. Following her line of sight, her eyebrows rose.

 can make them die too… Opal trailed off sadly. It was heartbreaking to see the young fae so upset by the wilted flower. It didn't happen often, but if Tauria's emotions ran too reckless while her ability hummed at the surface, it had the opposite effect on the nature around her. Luckily, her melancholy mood hadn't been dispersed enough to affect anything but the single spindlelilly.

"I don't think they were meant for here," Tauria said. But to lighten the mood for Opal's sake. her magick heated her fingertips, encasing the dying bud. They both watched in fascination as it reformed intoa white rose instead. "These look similar though."

Opal took the flower with a toothy grin, retrieving her spade to plant the new bloom. Tauria could have grown it directly and saved her the bother, but watching the young fae lose herself in the act of gardening was a nourishing sight she would never tire of. Looking at her now, she started to see echoes of her childself and wondered if these feelings had swirled in her mother's chest as she watched her.

Nik's shoulders relaxed in the hope he was getting through to her. He gave a nod of permission.

"Lady Tauria — you let her go. Yet Zarrius swears you love her, that in having her wed the Prince of Olmstone you will be at your most vulnerable."

That was what the lord was hoping for. Nik couldn't deny the mere thought did exactly that: weakened him. But Samara didn't know she'd offered him invaluable insight into Zarrius's plans. And his anger boiled to defuse his misery in realizing the lord's movements involved Tauria.

The blocking of Tauria's mind he had been so foolishly content to believe was of her own making. It ishly dawned a cold sweep of failure to think they had always been one step ahead of him when he believed they were behind in the game.

"Is that what love is?" Samara's voice snapped his attention back.

"Yes," he breathed. "It's puing their happiness before your own. Their safety over everything. It's wanting to set them free no matter what it means for you." He paced to the balcony, hands in his pockets as he thought over everything. Every piece of his and Tauria's plan that required sudden reassessment as in rushed a shift of adrenaline infused with a wrath so tangible he wanted to unleash the Nether on them all. Zarrius, Varlas, even Tarly if the prince knew how they were keeping him from being able to reach her. "It's having a darkness you never knew you harbored. Because if anyone tried to harm them..." 

, he had left her there. And now he couldn't be certain what was happening. If she was even 

. Nik's hands tightened into trembling fists. "There's no telling what a person might be capable of."

A gasp left Tauria at what she spied on the ground far below.

"It's a sundial," Tarly explained. The intricate markings glittered gold. "When one finds themselves lost in scripture, they need only glance down to discover how many hours have been swept away." The way he spoke was so gentle, different. Who Tarly was now was like a tormented soul at 

Then Tauria realized something. Turning her attention back to the door, she noticed none of the guards had followed them inside. The heaviness that lifted was felt in the loosening of her stiff muscles from being under so much surveillance.

"Not a single weapon has been brought into this library in millennia. It was considered sacrilegious to the Library Masters of Old. They have long since passed on, but the superstition stands that it would be a grave insult and bring bad fortune to disobey them even in death."

Tauria glanced over at the prince, flushing a shade of rose. She had been too engrossed by the wonder of the place to know when he'd stopped to hand over his own sword and any other weaponry he carried. Their eyes met, but only briefly, before his wandered and he shook his head. She might have even gauged it to be out of 

"Sorry, you did not ask for such a history."

As Tarly fixed his attention on her, Tauria held her breath as though one wrong move could trigger the rise of his walls. She was beginning to enjoy the glimpses of what she caught behind them, almost to the point of an infatuation that saw her desperate to keep him present, not shielded.

"What happens to the sundial at night?" Her attempt to entice him to carry on talking seemed to work. The tugging of his mouth was a triumph to see. They both glanced down over the railings.

"The stars appear. It becomes not a time teller, but a constellation tracker."

"Her name was Isabelle," Tarly offered quietly.

Tauria was gripped still at knowing who he meant. Catching the fall of his eyes, she found the desolation that swept through his expression, the shadow of loss that darkened the hazel. "You don't have to tell me —"

"I knew her my whole life. We grew up together. But the mating bond can't be recognized before a certain stage of maturity. Even then, ifa person isn't ready, they may not feel it when it's standingright in front of them. When I did have my suspicions about Isabelle, neithe of us cared to say anything for a long time because it didn't matter. I loved her before it, and I knew I would love her without it."

Tauria's heart struck a hard beat, tightening and tightening for his pain, which felt so palpable. She couldn't be sure why he was opening up to her now. She had to take a moment to tear her gaze from those dying eyes before she heard the worst of the tale still to come. It was this place. Perhaps the only place in his kingdom the prince knew he wouldn't be followed or watched or overheard. Vulnerability faced no mockery in here.

"My father met Keira, and they quickly presented their own child to the world. I thought he had moved past my mother completely, and I resented him for it. I told him I had found my mate and that I planned to wed her, knowing it would infuriate him." Tarly passed her by, walking aimlessly over to the tall cases of books. His sight wandered over the spines as he continued, and she thought by the way he avoided her eye as she followed silently that he might have been afraid of her judgment. "Isabelle was a lady of the court, but she was considered low in station compared to me. I didn't care. Never. But I am the prince, my father's only son. I was born with a hand to sell for political gain, and that is all. Mate or no mate, my father never approved ofher. So he did the only thing he knew that could drive us apart. He exiled her and announced her an enemy of the crown, never to set foot in Olmstone again upon forfeit of her life. He didn't care for my threats to follow after her. My father and Keira had Opal. She was only a babe, but one day she would be old enough to succeed them. But my father has never been the same since losing my mother. He stopped seeing me as a son or even a person, only as a right and a marker that was his to move."

Tauria couldn't find any words, didn't even think she could find her voice from the tightening of her throat and chest. The prince's past was so dark and full of misery — so much more than she anticipated to find behind such an icy exterior.

WE STAN THE QUEEN OF FENSTEAD IN THIS HOUSE SLAAAYYYY 

"You became a leading general, yet you can't recognize when the greatest weapons are right in front of you"

"Knowledge," she specified. "And stories. Words hold power, Lycus. They can cut and love and inspire. They can break from the inside out."

"Do you know why Fenstead's emblem is a stag?" She echoed the trivia to Lycus, who was leaning lazily over the railing.

He groaned. "We're really going to spend the after noon reciting history?"

Tauria rolled her eyes. "People often forget this detail as the emblem is always woven into tapestry or carved into brass. But it was prophesized that Ahren, the Silver-Antlered Stag, would 

"Not according to Jerriah Stagknight. It was said that the beast could recognize one fit to rule and would live to serve them. Ahren revealed himself to Jerriah, guiding him right to Fenstead's heart of Calenmoore, where the castle would be built. When Ungardia was first divided into kingdoms, the rulers were chosen in many different ways. For Fenstead, it was having Ahren by his side that made our people believe in our king. Not for his triumph in battle or any means of conguer; it was in the peace and prosperity he promised the land. The values we've comne to uphold to this day."

She took a long breath to ease the heaviness that had begun to settle. "Do you know why Olmstone's emblem is a two-headed wolf?"

Lycus chuckled, a bright sound that brightened the silence. "You're not about to convince me those exist."

Tauria giggled, and it felt so light that the sound halted in her throat almost immediately. She frowned down at her book, realizing with a heavy heart it had been so long since she'd genuinely 

. She cleared her throat. "It's symbolic, actually. The wolves have long been companion animals in Olmstone. They're wild and dangerous, but it's said they can be tamed, and many natives forged great bonds with them long ago. When Olmstone was in need ofa ruler, there were two favorable candidates, but they were vicious enemies. It was decided trial by combat was the only way — a fight to the death. Darellas and Galnaith fought as ruthlessly as their hatred ran for one another. Darellas was about to be victorious, but just before he could drive his blade through Galnaith to finish the trial, Galnaith's bonded wolf launched into the path of the blade. Wounded, the hound didn't back away from protecting Galnaith. Darellas knew there was no winning the crown without a kill, and he planned to cut through them both. Until his own wolf stepped in, siding not with him but against him, protecting their enemy defiantly."

"So the beast hada change of heart," Lycus drawled. "How poetic."

Tauria shot him a disgruntled look. "A lone wolf is prey. They hadn't realized it before, but their wolves were of the same bloodline. They were two powerful beasts, yet even they knew strength was in a pack — in standing together. Galnaith saw that in the way his wolf didn't back down. He read the meaning. He won fair and square without the kill that was supposed to be inevitable. When they put their hatred aside, they realized how much common ground they shared and became such close allies that once Galnaith Wolverlon was declared the first King of Olmstone, he instated Darellas as his closest advisor. The two-headed wolf is symbolic of that union. Two leaders who harbored so much opposition, discovering what could become of working together when they put that hate to rest."

"The Stone Men have a leader?" Tauria's interest piqued. She hadn't heard about this from Tarly.

Lycus nodded. "Tve met him once. Only in passing. During the Great Battles when they helped defend Olmstone's borders with Rhyenelle. Chief Zainaid, they call him."

Tauria leaned away from her book, wholly engrossed by — and a touch envious of — Lycus's experience.

"What they've made of the Stone Passes is remarkable. Despite their name, they're a very welcoming people. But I wouldn't want to challenge them. They're fiercely protective and ruthless in battle. You spoke of the wolves — you'll find the bond far more common with them compared to us here in the city. So far, the prince is the only person I've seen to have such a connection to the animals."

What she discovered began to slick her skin with an unplaceable dread. He frequented Lakelaria," she whispered because she didn't want to believe it, knowing nothing good ever came from such a well-guarded secret. Until I was born," she concluded, finding this was when his documented visits each decade stopped.

Her mind raced with the discovery. Nausea overcame her, and she had to step away from the text, unable to keep searching.

Her breaths were hard, but she met his eye. She didn't have to answer as he'd already moved over to the book, scanning and flipping through a couple more pages. Tauria couldn't take it. She began to pace, her mind already calculating without the need to read on.

"Always to the castle," she thought out loud. Things were sliding together. "Always alone." Her hands ran down her face, and she halted, shaking her head. "Always to see the Queen of Lakelaria."

"I don't think that has anything to do —"

His frown was puzzled as he continued to scan the book. Lycus shook his head. "It doesn't say that anywhere. This is simply a tracking of royal movements over the centuries."

"It makes sense," she continued anyway. "Why else would he be so infatuated with going there? Yet he'd already married my mother and knew the importance of duty. But what if his heart called to another when it was too late?"

"Does it really make much difference to anything?"

Tauria couldn't be sure. There was something unshakable in the memory of how closed off he'd been about the Kingdom of the Waterdragon. She needed to look into Lakelaria, the queen..

She was arranging an assortment of black roses with an expression that looked like watching the living dead. She turned her back, and when Tauria's eyes caught her shoulder blades...

Her gasp was smothered by Tarly's hand. His other arm wrapped around her middle, and they both stilled. It was then Tauria caught the flicker of movement. Like smoke easing from the shadows.

 slithered through her chest. All she could think of when she looked at the intimidating fae male... was death. He was made of it. He was a harbinger. The way he moved was careful, as if every step was a challenge to those who dared to look into his black, depthless eyes, and if they did, he could consume them entirely with a single look.

Tauria's heart was a hard beat, but the thump of Tarly's heart against her back was a sure comfort she depended on in that moment to keep her present. To remember it wasn't a cage with bars through which she stared at the dark being.

"Here, Tarly! What are you doing here with me?"

He took steps to her, which she straightened her spine to track. Her anger slowly dispersed in the gaze they shared. Because she couldn't understand the softness in his eyes. And didn't know if her quickened pulse was at the distance that slowly closed between themn with his careful approach or the dwindling adrenaline of combat.

When the prince was close enough to touch, she didn't flinch as his hand came up. Slowly, his fingers brushed a loose strand of her hair, trailing from her temple to her chin.

"I’m sorry that he left you," he said so quietly she wondered if he hoped the guards wouldn't hear it. "But I won't."

Her brow pinched at that, and she felt a new connection with the prince. One of sorrow and loneliness — but misery loved company.

"Perhaps we're not so different, Tauria."

Even tho I didn't liked at first the book being from a different perspective and wanted so bad to continue with Faith's story, slowly I fall in love with this book too . I liked that the other characters also have a big role in this story and not just contributes a little bit and also that they're also so strong on their own.

A Clash of Three Courts

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