LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II
THE WEEK OF SUMMER Solstice has come and gone. We have not truly known how to talk about what happened. I think Amias would rather forget it ever happened, Morano fills his fear with laughter, Roaner seems to not have a care in the world, and my mother has been quieter than she usually is. I have asked her if she is all right, and she gives a mere response before carrying on about her day.
There is nothing I have truly felt other than the wonder of where Ivella is, and how she is processing this rush of information. Processing her new life. When I have asked Roaner how she is coping, Esme told him she has secluded herself from everyone—burying herself in her studies at Vanlaxa Academy in New Quamfasi, while running off to her father’s home in Nadrexi whenever she gets the chance.
A thought has come to send a letter to her, see if I can be taken to her, even under supervision I would do it. Although, letters seem to be out of the question. There is the chance of her jealous awaiting husband butting in and hiding the letters once more. She did not confirm that is what he did, yet it is not hard to solve it was him who was not giving her my letters.
All the night of Summer Solstice did was make me realize that I have no choice but to push my people and those close to me to be experienced in combat. Especially those who have no establishment of powers.
I cannot say it was fear that was instilled in me. That night I was forced to be a greater High Prince and in addition I must force those around me to do what we should have been doing all along. I cannot only be a great High Prince to a weak nation. It needs to show within my people and our citadel that Vaigon is altering, and it is altering for the better.
“Could you imagine how Lorsius would have handled Solstice?” Amias’s voice pulls me from all thoughts.
“It is better Lorsius did not handle this. Stravan would have ended our realm with an easy lift of his finger.” Morano answers.
“That is the problem.” I sit up from my slouched position in the chair. “There could have been strong possibilities of that. If Lorsius were here we would be dead, there is no avoiding that outcome. He does not make the rational decision in these situations. His first thoughts are always irrational.”
I stand and begin a tedious stride back and forth. “Do any of you think I would be able to cross the border?”
Morano laughs and I glare in his direction.
“First, please stop pacing. You are making me anxious.” Amias says. “Secondly, no. I do not think you could cross the border. Even if you begged and gave over everything you own, there is not a single possibility of you getting past that wall.”
“Laven,” Morano pleas. “Roaner said Esme will keep you informed of Ivella. And if Ivella is not around often enough, there is not much Esme can tell you.”
Our messenger, Ezra, who Roaner promoted, enters the study and greets us before placing a letter in my hand.
“Thank you,” I nod to Ezra before he ascends.
“He is always so quiet.” Amias whispers.
“No, he is not.” Morano clarifies. “He just does his job and leaves.”
Amias turns to him. “And how would you know he is not quiet?”
Morano smirks. “Because I have been with him, on more than one occasion.”
“I should have known,” Amias says, shaking his head and returning to the papers in front of him.
“And I am the harlot?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.
His brown eyes sparkle in orange as they taper. “Just read your letter and tell us who it is from.”
The wax seal is imprinted with a P engulfed in wings, I know exactly where this has journeyed from.
“Stravan . . .” I exhale and they both stand.
Laven,
We would wish for your presence in Provas within the next seven days. We are holding a celebration in honor of Dyena’s return, without you and your brothers, this would not have been possible. Each of you may bring anyone along with you that you want.
Alongside the celebration, the following day we will be holding a conference with our Circle and yours as well. If there is anyone else you see pertinent to knowing any information regarding what will be spoken of, bring them with you.
We are delighted to show you and your closest companions the beauty of Provas.
With chasmic respect,
Dyena and Stravan
I hand over the letter to Morano.
He laughs. “This bastard tries to kill us, then invites us to Provas for festivities and a conference.”
“I am not surprised,” I take the letter as he hands it back over to me. “I knew a letter as this was coming soon enough. I will send word to Carmen and Lorena; they are the only others I can think of that would be major figures to know of this.”
“Has Carsten had any further luck with the inoculation?” Amias asks while moving through the multiple papers and letters regarding illegal enslavement.
“Unfortunately, no. He has only found a few Healers with the same expertise as his. But that is more than nothing. Carsten will need all the help he can get with this.”
“Did Stravan tell you who it is that he knows that developed the disease within the rogues?”
“I am suspecting, from the letter, that the conference Stravan and Dyena invited us to has to do with that.” If it is not, I will be bringing it up.
Amias lifts his head. “Did he include Lorsius’s name in the invitation?”
“No,” I smile. “Stravan does not favor Lorsius enough to invite him.”
“There is not a single High King and High Queen that would want Lorsius’s attendance or company at any event.” Morano chuckles.
“When does Roaner return?” Amias asks.
“Today, possibly tonight.”
After the night of Summer Solstice, Roaner took Esme to my home in Gordanta to spend the rest of Solstice there with her. It is officially the end of the week, and Roaner should arrive home before nightfall. I am sure the sudden urge to take her away was due to Stravan feeding Roaner a thought of Esme being taken captive.
Then again, after a scare as that, who would not run off with the person they love and cherish them for as long as they can?
We all thought it was Esme we saw that night, but for Roaner, he saw the end of the world.
“I have the dates set for questioning those who committed treason, and now we move on to setting trial dates and hearings for those taken into enslavement without permission.” I walk toward the table and set down the official letters to be sent out when Ezra arrives.
Ezra may have been moved up in rank, but he is still my most trusted messenger. I cannot quite let him go from his position just yet.
“Here are more letters,” Morano hands out. “Last week Roaner and I went out to the acres of land claimed without payment. The homes that are being built are rather extravagant when we were shown the blueprints. I reason it is also vital to note these homes are near the size of mansions and are being constructed by servants, which they also did not have the permit for.
I grab a wooden box and pile all the letters into it.
“I will have them torn down and pay the servants for their work. I have to head out of that side of town to visit my grandparents.” Amias announces. “I will deliver the people their letters.”
“What is next?” I ask, looking over the table still flooded in paper.
* * *
“Stop trying to drink away the thoughts of her.” Axynth says as he enters the courtyard.
He grabs the bottle of whiskey and looks down at it. “Strong shit,” he laughs while shoving my shoulder.
“Your mother spoke to me of what happened on the night of Solstice.” He sits down and pulls the cork of the whiskey, drinking it straight from the bottle. “Your mother usually tells me of secrets she keeps, but not this one.” I turn toward him, and he is staring out—gazing at the flowers twirled around the pillars of the courtyard.
“How is she?”
He smirks. “She is fine, although, she worries. Nevertheless, it does not seem to be for herself that she worries for.” Axynth drinks more of the liquor before turning to me. “And you. You are heartbroken.”
I look away from him, avoiding this conversation people continue to force me to have.
“Trials are soon, and hearings.” I divert us away from Ivella and to the issues occurring in our land.
“So I heard. If Lorsius would give me a stronger hand over our continent, I would be able to keep these legalities under control.
Nonetheless, he strips me of all my say, and puts me so far down the line of royalty, I have no rule over anything. I am simply a General’s father.”
Growing up my father, Axynth, and Lorsius were all so close it was as if they were family, and when Lorsius began ruling, he treated Axynth differently when he discovered that Axynth was another person that disagreed with his ways of ruling. Lorsius left Axynth high in rank but took all say from him.
“Regarding the trials, Lorsius does not care about what we do with the Quamfasian people. He could care less about however it is that those in the higher societies use them. As a High King, even he has committed his own treasons. There is only no way to prove that to the people who do have healthy minds.”
“You are more than just the General’s father,” I begin. “You are a father to all of us and you did all you could to prevent Lorsius from turning into the person he is now. As for the ways of Lorsius, there is nothing else for me to do than grin and bear it.”
With everything Hua, my brothers and I are doing, it will be a shame when all our hard work is reverted. Knowing Lorsius, that is exactly what he will do.
“You are doing well,” Axynth says. “No matter what happens and whatever it may be that Lorsius says to belittle you. You are better than he will ever be, and that will always be why Lorsius has seen you as his most robust competition. You are identical to the person your grandfather, Vaigon, was, and it frightens Lorsius because he is not.”
* * *
I have returned to my study again, if I cannot sleep, I may as well put my time toward completing work that is left to be done.
Roaner is entering the study just as I sit.
He is quiet.
He is always quiet.
But this quiet is different.
“How was your trip?”
He sits down at the table across from me, he forces a laugh and shakes his head.
“Roaner,” I urge him to speak.
He shakes his head again.
“I will not be going on another short trip any time soon, and I ask that we leave the conversation at that.”
I nod, not pressing any further.
“Ivella is still not talking to anyone,” he updates me without me needing to ask. “Even when she spoke with her father, he told her he knew nothing of Dyena being involved. Artemis only told them that she wished to gift Ivella with life. Out of pure elation her parents immediately accepted. But they knew nothing of exactly what life it was that Artemis put into her. After meeting with her father, and speaking with him, there is not a chance he would have accepted such a gift if he knew it was the life that belonged to Dyena.”
I would not think so either. I have never spoken with her father, yet by the way he raised Ivella, it does not seem he would commit to something as this.
As I am more often told that Ivella wishes to keep to herself, the more I see the large reg flags of warning that she is not fine and that she is not coping well. However, I cannot force someone to speak with me if they are not ready.
I have thought often about going to Xenathi to visit her, just to see if there is a chance I can be there for her in ways others cannot. My only problem is, there is not a chance Vallehes and Penelope are letting me cross that border. If she moves between both Xenathi and Nadrexi, Nadrexi would be my only hope of getting to her. Just maybe.
“Laven,” I lift at the voice. “Roaner.”
From beneath the table, Nyt quietly growls and I stop him before there is a retaliation.
There is a leering simper as he looks from us down to the mounds of papers in front of us.
“This work can be left to me now that I am home.” Lorsius smiles.
