Betrayal by Blood: A Prequel (Stones of Terrene Book 0) Read online

  Sapphire rolled her eyes as she set her fork and knife at an angle on her plate, then leaned to the side to allow Bodrik to clear the dish. “Right.” She looked at Violet and Deisy. “They ‘helped’ make dinner in the kitchen several weeks ago.” She shot Brandon a skeptical expression. “Somehow, half the food came out blue. Blue dinner rolls. Blue cake. Blue soup.”

  “Exaggeration!” Brandon protested. “Only the cake and the rolls were blue! It’s not our fault they keep the food dye near the food!”

  “It’s a kitchen, darling. It’s supposed to be there.” Sapphire shook her head fondly, then looked at Violet. “I really do hope you’ll feel right at home here. While I do admit that they have greatly reduced in number and severity, you may experience a prank or two from him in your lifetime with us.” Sapphire gestured in Brandon’s direction with her fork. “Be forewarned.”

  Violet laughed aloud, her head thrown back and genuine merriment shining in her eyes. “Noted. Thank you.”

  Bodrik cleared the rest of their plates while Kaleen served the wine-soaked pears. Violet carefully cut a slice and nibbled on it, her eyes widening with delight before she pushed the whole bite in her mouth, her eyes closing in rapture. She finished the bite, cast a speculative smile at Brandon, then turned to Sapphire. “So, what other stories about him can you share? It’s only fair I start learning about my soon-to-be family, right?”

  Brandon groaned while Sapphire cackled.

  Maybe tonight’s dinner would be a success after all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Slate

  Slate strolled down the cobblestone street toward his mother’s shipping yard, savoring the lingering light as the season stretched into summer. Soon it wouldn’t be dark until long after dinner, allowing extra time for discus, dates, and snagging Garnet away from work to watch the sunset to remind her that breaks are a good thing.

  The fence of his mother’s yard came into view, and he straightened his uniform jacket, brushed a hand over his hair, and checked his boots for specks of dirt. Tonight was time with his mother, and for that, he’d be the perfect gentleman that she and his father raised him to be. And maybe he could ask about the captivating Captain Leigh, whom he’d met last time he was here. Her beautiful smile stuck in his memory, and her laugh echoed in his head when he least expected it.

  Churned dirt led up to Ellie’s door, and a mound of stones piled by the gate gave clue to Ellie’s plans for her decor. He stopped to inspect the cobblestones, smiling when he saw the red veins in the rock. He’d predicted to Sapphire that their mother would theme her Doldran yards with the country’s colors, and Sapphire disagreed, arguing that Ellie would choose her own favored color of yellow. Tomorrow he’d tell Sapphire and rub it in a little.

  Slate let himself into her house. Ellie knew he would be over about now, so he had little fear of turning a corner to find her knife at his throat. The sound of laughter echoed from the kitchen, and he cocked an ear to it as he hung his belt and sword on the rack next to a worn leather belt with its own sword and dagger.

  Who else was here? His mother hadn’t mentioned anyone else coming tonight.

  Curiosity and the sound of food sizzling along with the scent of roasted beef drew Slate into the kitchen, where he drew up short.

  His mother had her back to him, pulling a roast out of the oven while Samantha Leigh stirred something on the hotstone range. Samantha glanced back and smiled. “Hey there, handsome.”

  Surprise glued Slate’s tongue to the roof of his mouth. Some barely intelligible sound came from his throat, and he moved into the spacious kitchen, noting the table setup for three as he passed by, focusing on the unexpected guest.

  Ellie moved the pan to the cream-tiled counter and walked over, lifting her cheek for Slate to kiss it in greeting. “Samantha’s schedule brought her here earlier than expected, so I invited her to join us tonight.” Her eyes sparkled with a mischief far too similar to Sapphire’s. “I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” he managed. He shot Samantha a quick glance when she turned away, his mind echoing her cheerful greeting. Did she greet every man by calling them “handsome”? Or was she truly flirting with him? He focused on his mother. “How can I help?”

  The three of them made short work of preparing dinner and getting it to the table, and Slate hustled to seat his mother, sliding her chair in, then moving to do the same for Samantha. Her lips quirked as if she was about to argue, then she dipped her head in a nod, assenting to his nod to decorum.

  Slate watched Samantha serve a generous slice of beef to her plate, ignoring his mother’s sly smile. “Weren’t you going to be gone for a few weeks?”

  Samantha’s cheeks dimpled, and she winked at him as she passed green beans to Ellie. “Plans changed.”

  His pulse thrummed and his heart hammered. What was this? He was always the one pursuing, flirting, leading the conversation. Suddenly he was off-kilter and floundering, finding himself on the receiving end.

  Ellie’s posture remained perfect as she cut into her meat. “Well, your timing was perfect.”

  The two women talked business and bantered with an ease that spoke of a solid working relationship. Slate racked his memory for any mention from his mother for when she’d hired Samantha, but nothing stood out––Ellie had too many captains and airships under her command for him to keep track of.

  “How long have you worked with my mom?” Slate asked when there was a brief lull in the women’s conversation.

  Samantha and Ellie looked at each other. Samantha tilted her head, her brown eyes narrowed. “Two years?”

  His fork lowered, seemingly of its own accord as he stared at his mother. “How am I only just now meeting—”

  Ellie laughed. “I haven’t introduced you to all my captains.” She lifted her glass of water to her lips, but not before Slate saw her smile. “You should remember, son. I know how to schedule my priorities.”

  Of course his mother would play matchmaker. Slate glanced up at Samantha, curious as to how she’d react to Ellie’s comment.

  A bemused smirk was the only indication to whatever thoughts Samantha had on the topic at hand. His stomach twisted. He had to stop being surprised by Samantha and actually get to know her, if his mother was essentially signing off the idea of him dating one of her captains.

  “So, Samantha,” Slate speared a boiled potato with his fork. “Where do you originate from? And what got you started on being an airship captain?”

  “Piovant.” Samantha’s ready smile blossomed as she settled her elbows on the table, letting her chin rest on the back of her hand. “Rebecca and I grew up in Tamov.”

  Slate racked his brain to remember anything he could of the mechanically inclined country. “Tamov … is that inland, or by the coast?”

  “Close to the coast and the border of Antius.” Samantha sipped her water. “We started flying the Phoenix after our father built her.” Her face darkened as if a shadow crossed it, and she lowered her gaze to the platter of meat and vegetables. “He passed away five years ago, and once our mother re-married we decided it was time to explore the skies and see the world.” A cheek dimpled. “After a few months of odd jobs here and there, Ellie found us and hired us for regular deliveries.” She looked over at Ellie, her eyes soft with gratitude and her bearing strong with purpose. “We have no plans to look for work elsewhere.”

  Fascination drew Slate in. “Is it difficult, not having a physical place to call home?”

  She looked affronted, then her expression eased. “I assume you mean a physical place as in a brick and mortar home?” She gestured a shapely hand to Ellie’s molded ceiling and expansive kitchen.

  Mortification at how his words must’ve sounded sent heat to his cheeks as he winced. “Yes, sorry. I didn’t intend to be—”

  Samantha waved away his apology and shook her head, loosening a strand of hair from her braids. “I understand what you’re asking. And no, it’s not hard at all, becaus
e we have the Phoenix. She’s our physical home, and I’m content with that. Besides.” She shrugged and tilted her empty water cup, watching the drops of water at the bottom shift as she moved it. “In Piovant we have a saying, ‘Contentment comes when you are thankful.’ I’m thankful my mother still lives, for my sister, and for our airship, and our jobs. I’m content with where I am, and I look forward to expanding my work and doing whatever else Ellie asks of me.”

  Ellie chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way after I have you take that shipment to Loore’s Landing.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “Unlike some of my crew, I don’t mind the scent of the sea or fish.”

  The two shared a laugh that was interrupted by a deep horn reverberating outside. Ellie’s head snapped up in the direction of the shipyards, her eyes immediately distant as she scooted her chair back. “Please excuse me, I need to see to this shipment. Late again, and with textiles I need to get arranged to their buyers!”

  Slate half rose as well. “Anything I can help you with?”

  Ellie’s eyes crinkled in the corners as she shrugged on a fitted jacket over her blouse. “No, thank you, Slate.” She nearly made it to the doorway before turning back. “Actually, on second thought, how about you stay here and entertain Samantha for me? That would be helpful.” She blew a kiss to him and nodded at Samantha. “Lovely dinner, you two.”

  Slate snapped his jaw shut. What had he done to deserve his mother being so overly obvious about his interest in Samantha? Was she trying to kill him with embarrassment? Ruin his chances of getting to know Samantha? What if this made Samantha leave on her airship and never return?

  “Well.” Samantha’s voice broke through his internal panic, and she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and a speculative gleam in her eyes. “I’m curious to see what you’d come up with to entertain me.” She must’ve seen the flash of panic in his face, and she relented, smiling sweetly. “How about you tell me about yourself? I’ve heard plenty from Ellie, but what do you have to say?”

  “How about we walk the yards while we talk?” Slate suggested. He needed to move. Pent-up, nervous energy jangled along his nerves. After all the failed dates with all the women who hid behind facades and held a disinterest to anything remotely interesting, Samantha was utterly mesmerizing. She settled her napkin on the table as she stood, and walked ahead of him. He swallowed hard. Feminine in her appearance and in the sway of her hips as she moved, yet practical and real.

  He hustled past her to get the door, and she laughed, stepping out onto Ellie’s back porch. “You know, I’m perfectly capable of opening the door myself.”

  “And you’ll have many opportunities to do so when I’m not around,” Slate replied, relieved to feel some of his old suaveness returning. “But while we’re together, please, allow me to treat you as the lady you are.”

  Samantha’s eyebrows rose, and he caught a hint of a smile in the fading sunlight. She turned away, clasping her arms behind her back, and stepped out onto the stamped dirt path that lined the edges of Ellie’s property. “If you insist.” Samantha looked back and tilted her head. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

  Slate jogged lightly to catch up. “I don’t know what to tell you about myself. I’m sure my mother has given you more than you ever needed or wanted to know.” He scratched his head absently. “I mean, I’m in the royal guard so I can be close to Sapphire, making sure she’s doing well. I spend a fair bit of my spare time at the Crimson Hawk, helping as much as Garnet will let me, and I play discus with the military when I have spare time.” Heat suffused his face, and he glanced away from Samantha’s sharp gaze, admiring the mostly-budded trees. “I want to say I’m a simple guy.”

  Samantha hummed lightly. “A simple family guy.”

  “Without a family.” Slate’s laugh had a tinge of sorrow in it.

  “Not true.” Samantha turned on her boot heel, bringing up a finger under his nose. “You have your mother, Garnet, and Sapphire. And in your own words just now, you admitted to working close to one sister, and spending your free time close to the other. You look out for them. You don’t have a little wife and a brood of children yet, but you still have a family.”

  Slate blinked. “Well, yes, but …” He stumbled over his words, flustered. “You know what I mean.”

  She smiled over her shoulder. “Just had to point that out to you.” She continued in silence for a moment, stopping for a moment before she moved on. “What … What do you think of your Prince Richard?”

  “Richard?” Slate frowned, trying to see the connection of her thoughts. “He’s Sapphire’s brother-in-law, technically. He’s been through a real rough patch lately, so he’s definitely not been himself the last year or so.”

  Samantha nodded as he spoke, her expression reserved and respectful.

  He shot her a look. “Why?”

  An evening breeze teased at his jacket and sent her stray strand of hair spiraling across her cheek. She tucked it away as her lips pressed together briefly. “Our run just before this took us by the border, and we had some time to chat with the locals while we were moving merchandise.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if evaluating him. “A lot of them were sharing how they’re not looking forward to his next visit. They’re afraid of him now. Apparently he’s been short-tempered and didn’t exactly treat them fairly last time.”

  Slate winced. “Which city?”

  “Amaran.”

  He mentally backtracked, trying to remember when Richard’s visiting rounds would’ve had him on the Perennian border. He closed his eyes. Four months ago. Right after Adeline’s birth. “He’s been under a lot of stress,” Slate reiterated.

  Samantha shrugged. “I don’t doubt that. It’s just a bit concerning, him being a prince and all the power that comes with it, if you know what I mean. Wasn’t he the crown prince before Adeline was born?”

  “Yes, but Brandon doesn’t want to be the crown prince.” Slate shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to curb his scowl. “Though he’d rather just be a diplomat or something and leave the eventual rule over Doldra to Richard, Brandon would be a much better leader.”

  She turned to face him as she walked. “What do your sisters think of all this?”

  Slate shrugged and slipped his hands in his pockets, hunching slightly as he screwed his face up. “Sapphire will support Brandon with just about everything. And I try to shield them from the worst of the rumors, especially those regarding Richard. They have plenty of other things to worry about, Garnet with her business, Sapphire with being a new mother. I want them to be free to focus on what they love, what they want to do, and not be weighed down with all the things they can’t change.”

  Samantha stopped walking. She hugged herself and gave him a generous smile. “It’s sweet how you look after your family.” Sincerity rang in her voice, enough so that he shifted, slightly uncomfortable under her frank admiration. None of his previous dates looked at him like that. “You don’t just leave Sapphire to be on her own with her new family, and you don’t just see Garnet as a businesswoman on her own. You let them be who they want to be, while still doing what you can to look after them, just because that’s how you show love. That’s admirable.”

  That hit on his pride just right. His chest puffed with pleasure just as a twinge panged in consternation at how easily she read him. “Thank you?”

  She flashed him a grin. “I like these talks, handsome. We need to do this again.”

  “Again?” He echoed, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

  Samantha loosed a sharp laugh, not anything like the dainty, elegant giggles of most his previous dates. She set her hands on her hips as she faced him. “Yeah. You intrigue me. And I’m going to guess that the feeling is mutual.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, a lop-sided smile playing at her lips. “So, let’s do this again.”

  If she kept smiling at him like that, he was going to be a goner. He nodded, his head bouncing up and do
wn until he realized he’d nodded perhaps too much, if her amused laugh was anything to go by. “I’d like that,” he managed. “I’d like that a lot.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Clara

  Morning light glinted off windows of buildings lining the street, momentarily blinding Clara until she moved a step closer to Sapphire on the sidewalk. She ignored the man directly ahead of them, focusing instead on the cart passing by too closely. It turned down a nearby road, and she sighed. If she’d had an inclination of just how stressful this was going to be, she would’ve pushed harder for the relative safety of the carriage. But with each and every step away from the palace, Sapphire relaxed more. This break away from formalities to visit Sapphire’s mother was needed.

  Even if it was a more dangerous risk than Clara preferred her friend taking these days.

  They passed by another storefront before Sapphire turned to Clara. “I think Princess Violet’s visit went well, overall.”

  “Agreed.” Clara paused, reflecting. “And Prince Richard comported himself with dignity near the end. It just took some time.”

  “And she enjoyed the grounds, even if she never said so outright. I appreciated all the times she came by the library; it gave us opportunities to talk without … stressors … being around.” Sapphire stopped at an open part of the walkway, moved around the front of the perambulator she was pushing, and tugged a lightweight blanket closer to Adeline’s chin. “I just wish I could ease her fears.”

  “Her concerns are reasonable though.” Clara glanced over her shoulder, then to the shadows between the brick building they passed. She turned to her hooded charge. “And after this visit, we go straight back home.”

  Sapphire rolled her eyes as she bobbed her head back and forth. “I know, I know.”

  They waited with a large group of pedestrians as several horses and carriages crossed the busy intersection in front of them. Clara eyed each person, mentally painting them a color to match her threat scale. A slender man waited on the edge of the walkway with them, close to the group of people, and yet he held himself slightly aloof. He tipped his white top hat in wordless greeting, and Sapphire smiled at him at the same time that Clara mentally tagged him orange—he looked harmless enough, but the way he held himself spoke of a fighter’s gracefulness. Traffic shifted in their favor and the crowd flowed forward.