Upon Closer Inspection

[Adana Nausikaa]

“It is not right for a woman to ride a stallion. You could get hurt.”

The voice caused Adana Nausikaa Durante to look up from her beloved Drago’s dappled rump and glance over her shoulder. When her gaze spot the lanky form of George Nausikaa’s eldest son, Nicholas, Adana turned fully to face the serious looking seventeen year old. A slightly mischievous smirk spread across her features as she set the Drago’s brush down on the wooden ledge of the stable. “If I did not know that such a statement comes merely from ignorance, my feelings might be hurt.”

The young man’s gaze briefly fell at the reproach but it was only a moment before he was able to meet her cool blue gaze once more. “Perhaps I am just jealous that your betrothed has given you a gift that you hold so dearly,” he said softly.

Adana’s gaze briefly leaped to the door to ensure that her maid, who served as a constant chaperone, was still asleep on an empty crate next to the door of the Atalaya Manor stable. “You are approaching dangerous territory, Nicholas. We are cousins, after all.”

Nicholas snorted at the statement. “We are cousins in name only. There was no blood shared between your mother and my father. They’re just a bunch of orphans—“

“Remember where you are, Nicholas,” she growled sharply. There was a moment’s pause before Adana drew up an overly polite tone. “My step-father is in his study. I believe he is waiting for you.”

She slid her hand back through the leather handle of Drago’s brush and began to turn back to the stallion who was stomping its hooves in an impatient protest over the lack of attention. Nicholas reached out with a hand and grabbed her arm urgently. Adana’s head whipped back around to face him but before she could spit out a rebuke for grabbing her in such a manner, he immediately began to speak. “I am sorry. I should not have said that here but you know that it is true. Even if it were not, two cousins marrying is certainly not an unheard of idea.”

“Nicholas,” Adana began bringing her tone down to a gentle whisper. “My job is just as your sisters. I am to marry whom I am told to marry. I am to fortify the family’s standing by creating an alliance and then children.”

Nicholas released his hold on Adana’s arm to run a hand through his locks of dark hair, releasing a ragged sigh. “I know you are young but –“

“I am too young to be having this conversation. My mother would never consent to a marriage before I was seventeen and I agree with her. I ask that you drop this until then and if you do choose to bring it back up in three years that you go about it in the correct manner.”

“Your father would never have wanted you in an arranged marriage,” Nicholas shot back in frustration.

His tone caused her to pause for a long moment. Her brows furrowed in confusion. Certainly he did not mean Cletus Ganderfald, her stepfather. He would not have used the past tense. He must have been referring to her true father – Raffaele Pompeo Durante. However, the thought that he would not want her in an arranged marriage was laughable. The old Durante family knew nothing but arranged marriages. She finally gave a short laugh and shook her head. “If Lord Durante was still alive and if he cared for me at all, I am sure that he would have actually already married me off to one of his debtors.”

“I meant your real father,” Nicholas stated softly.

She took a small step back away from him in shock. Drago, in his infinite wisdom, seemed to sense her shock and hung his head over her shoulder in an almost comforting gesture. “I-I do not know what you are talking about,” she stumbled and it was the truth. Her mind flew over the possibilities. Was he truly suggesting that Raffaele Durante was not her father?

The look of genuine surprise on Adana’s face caused Nicholas to become immediately uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I should not have mentioned something that I do not know to be true. I should not speak rumors. I just heard my father mention it once before his death. I figured that you must know,” Nicholas babbled in explanation.

Seriousness overcame Adana and as she stepped towards Nicholas to grab his arm violently, he was overcome by the degree in which she mirrored her mother’s intensity. “What are you talking about, Nicholas?” Her voice was low so as to not wake the sleeping maid but with a deeply grim undertone that shook him.

The swinging of the stable door drew their attention. Adana immediately released her firm grip on Nicholas’s arm and the maid startled awake. As Cletus Ganderfald ducked into the stable, Nicholas drew a step back from Adana. Cletus leveled his stern gaze on the pair for a long moment before speaking. “I have been looking for you, Nicholas.”

“I am sorry,” Nicholas spoke up a bit too quickly.

“Yes. Well, we must get going or we will be late for the meeting with the bishops.” Cletus then allowed his dark gaze to meet Adana’s blue eyes for a moment. She was even harder to read than her mother. “And I am sure that Drago is quite well groomed. Do you not have some studying to do?”

Adana responded with a nod but remained quiet as Cletus stepped back out of the stable. Adana felt Nicholas’s dark eyes on her but she refused to meet the look. After failing to connect with her, Nicholas resigned to suffer her cold shoulder with a sigh and turned his back to her to follow Cletus out of the stable.

She listened to their boots crunching against the gravel walkway leading back towards the house until they could no longer be heard. Pursing her lips into a tight frown and giving Drago a final pat, Adana lifted her voice to the elderly maid. “Are my mothers old chests of dresses and books still stored here?”

The maid straightened on her bale of hay at the question and paused in thought momentarily before responding, “Yes, Adana. Your mother refuses to throw any of it out.”

What Nicholas had said in regards to her “real” father had not left her mind. His comment had seemed to bring her attention to a box of memories that she could not access. She suddenly realized that they were there in her head but she did not have the key to unlock them. She had to jar herself into remembering. “I wish to go through it tomorrow. Particularly the chests from around the time she married my father. Please have them brought to my dressing room tomorrow morning.”

[Arane Nausikaa]

Cletus Ganderfald leaned against the open stone archway that led from his study in the labyrinth one-story Atalaya Manor to his wife’s. Had she noticed him approach, she had not shown a sign of it and thus he had caught her in a fairly unguarded moment. The tips of her fingers were blackened with the stain of ink of the letter she was laboring over a letter with a concentrated look settled on her features.

“I am about to leave for RhyDin,” he stated finally after realizing that she was not going to notice him standing their on her own.

Her blue eyes immediately leapt up from the letter and found his face. Her lips tightened into a disappointed frown as she turned to give him her full attention. “For the record, I do not approve of this team dueling.”

Cletus cracked a small smile as crossed the room. “I know you do not but I have to oversee the rebuilding of the house there anyway.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the touch. A sigh escaping her lips as she reopened them once he leaned back. “You will not be long?”

“Of course not,” he answered before turning and moving for the door. He stopped before stepping out of the room to turn back towards her. “Oh, and Arane?”

He found her gaze easily as it had not left him. “I saw Adana and Nicholas in the stable this morning. I don’t know what they were talking about but I don’t like the way he has been looking at her.”

Arane gave a knowing nod as she slowly rose to her feet. “I have seen it as well. I will speak with her tonight.”

Cletus gave a nod, hesitating momentarily in her presence before turning to leave the room. “Cletus?” Arane called to stop him, taking a step towards the door he was exiting from. Cletus came to a stop and turned towards her questioningly.

“I love you,” she said faintly.

For a moment he paused in surprise and his dark eyes searched her in concern for what had caused the sudden statement. It was not that he never knew she did but that she never chose to express it quite in that manner. Their love was always evident in every shared glance, touch, or conversation that they had but their bond was usually unspoken and unacknowledged by both.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he finally decided that all appeared well. “I love you too. I will be safe.”

He turned and stepped out of the room, leaving Arane to sink back into her chair. She did not immediately return to her letter however. She remained still, listening to the waves as they crashed violently against the shoreline just past the dunes outside the front windows. In her short moment of solitude, she whispered a soft prayer under her breath before pushing away her unease and returning to work.

[Adana Nausikaa]

Adana sat in front of her vanity and scrutinized her mirror image in the candlelight. There had to be some sign of her father, whoever he may be, in her features. Her loose spiral curls were of a golden blonde while her mother’s hair was a pale blonde. That did not tell her much, though. Their eyes were the same almond shape and both of a dark blue color that never gave away much. Their bone structure and facial expressions were almost identical. It was almost as if she was merely a younger version of her mother.

She huffed in a frustrated sigh and it was then that her eyes landed on her lips. She did not have her mother’s thin lips or sly smile. Instead, her soft plump lips seemed to be born into a constant pout and when she cracked them into a smile, it never had the wiliness of her mother’s. When Adana smiled it took over her entire face.

Maybe there was something there. Was there some part of her father in her smile? Or perhaps it was simply the difference in childhoods between Adana and Arane.

A rapping on the door of her sitting room drew her attention away from the mirror. She twisted on the bench towards the door, calling to the knocker. “Come in.”

Arane stepped through the doorway, pulling a knitted shawl that had slid down her back over her shoulders to stave off the evening chill. “Lauren was hoping you would come in to read to her tonight.”

“She does not want you to read to her?”

Arane allowed a slight smile and ran her fingers lightly over the green marble top of Adana’s dresser. “She is angry with Cletus for leaving and as he is not around to snub, I am bearing the brunt,” she said in a slightly amused tone as she took a seat on an ottoman near the bench Adana was seated on.

“That’s ridiculous,” Adana huffed.

“Perhaps but that is the mind of a five year old,” Arane stated patiently. “I actually came in here to talk to you.”

“I know.” A pale white kitten darted out of Adana’s bedroom into the sitting room. It scampered across the sitting room and pounced a piece of lint in a summersault roll.

A comfortable stillness settled in the room as they watched the kitten’s attack before Arane addressed her daughter once more. “Do not be angry with Cletus. He is only worried about you. Nicholas is a good deal older than you.”

Adana gave a nod and leaned down to scoop up the kitten that had now begun brushing against her legs in search of attention. “I am not angry.”

“Do you… care for Nicholas?” Arane choose her words more carefully than she would have with foreign leaders. A fourteen year old girl could be more dangerous than even the deadliest king.

“Not in the way that you are asking.” Adana stated in a matter-of-fact tone as she tucked the kitten in her lap. She paused thoughtfully before continuing. “I am too young and how can I be cruel to Losden after he got me Drago?”

Arane laughed softly, shaking her head. “Some women prefer jewels, dear.”

“I prefer a fast stallion with a wicked sense of adventure.” The quick witted girl shot back at Arane with one brow arched mischievously.

Her mother’s smile brightened as she leisurely rose to her feet. “So can I tell Lauren you will be in to read to her shortly?”

“Of course,” Adana responded as she leaned over to place the kitten down. Arane allowed her gaze to linger on her eldest child for a moment before moving towards the door.

“I know why you are worried.” Adana’s voice caused Arane to turn back to face her. The petite girl was standing facing her mother with a somber expression. “I know why you are worried about Nicholas,” she repeated.

Arane tilted her head to the side curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I understand. If Nicholas marries another Nausikaa, especially me, he would have a good argument that he should be the heir to Nausikaa, the monarch of Talsiny.”

“I suppose he would,” Arane stated slowly as if the idea was not one that she had previously had.

Adana, however, was not fooled by her mother’s act nor did she slow in revealing her thoughts. “I would never do anything that may cause Zen to be put in harm’s way and, while my tutors may think me a terrible student, I do know enough to know what comes of fights for a monarch.”

Arane’s dark blue eyes briefly dropped before finding Adana’s young confident gaze once more. “While you are correct in all of that, not everything Cletus and I do is to promote Zen’s future. We love you and Lauren just as much as him and want all three of you to be happy.”

“I know,” she replied in the same adult tone.

For a long moment, Arane could not tear her gaze from the girl. When had she blossomed into such a young woman? The depth of Adana Durante Nausikaa’s cunning and the height of her wit continuously shocked even Arane and Cletus when they saw glimpses into the woman she was becoming. Arane finally tore herself from the moment and offered a soft smile to her daughter. “I will see you in Lauren’s room in a minute then?”

“Of course,” Adana answered obediently.

[Adana Nausikaa]

“Is it not a bit late to be doing the polishing?”

Colin Kilmartin looked up from the shrimp fork in his hand and towel in his hand. A smile spread across his features as he spotted Adana before him. A single braid of hair hung on her right shoulder and she was draped in a robe. For a brief moment, the young woman before him reminded him of the child she had been. “Is it not a bit late for young ladies to be wandering around the house?”

Adana took a seat opposite him at the battered kitchen table used for such tasks. She dipped the extra rag into the polish and a spoon to aid him in the task. “I cannot sleep.”

Colin offered a nod. “Neither could I. This has made me sleepy since I was a little boy, though.”

“Really?” Adana glanced up from her task with a slight grin. “Good. Maybe it’ll do the trick for me.”

Colin gave a soft laugh. Silence followed. The candlelight flickered between them. The house was so silent that the waves past the dunes guarding the house could be heard crashing against the shore. The pair remained at their task for several minutes enjoying the stillness and company.

“How long have you been working here?” Adana's soft voice interrupted the silence.

Colin placed a fork down and rubbed his forehead with his forearm before settling his tired eyes on Adana. “Here at Atalaya Manor? I have been working here since Henry Nausikaa bought the place about fifteen years ago. I worked for him in the Talsiny City for three or four years before that.”

“Do you remember my mother from back then?”

“I remember the day you met your mother. I believe I’ve told you that story many times,” Colin replied and a soft smile spread across his face. “She came back from that boarding school and whipped those boys into shape. She brought their households to the top of social standing.”

Adana gave a nod and frowned slightly at the serving spoon she was rubbing with the rag. “Was she ever in love?”

Colin’s postured suddenly tightened and he raised a fist to cover a cough. The tension that suddenly overcame the room caused Adana to raise her blue eyes to his wrinkled visage. “With Mr. Ganderfald, of course.”

“I meant before Cletus. Was she ever in love before Cletus?”

He gave a tense laugh. “I do not know the inner workings of any woman’s heart, especially not Arane Ganderfald.”

“She did not love my father, did she?” Adana’s questioning pounded in like the waves crashing outside – blunt, forceful, and undeniable.

“Your mother was a good girl. She knew that wealthy women do not have the luxury to marry for love,” he replied sharply as if the question had been a critique of his mistress.

Her blue eyes bore in him but there was nothing rude about her look or her tone. She was simply inquisitive. “Was there someone else then? Was there someone that she did love? Was he poor? Is that why they could not marry?”

Despite her upbringing of focusing on the logical and her precociousness, Adana had as many romantic fantasies as any other fourteen year old girl. She was quickly drawing up a scenario where a love-starved sixteen year old version of her mother had fallen for a stable boy or handsome messenger. However, Henry Nausikaa sweeps in and bats away this love to give Arane a stern lecture on why she must marry old Lord Durante to benefit her “family”. Poor Arane, whom owed so much to Henry for paying for her education, dutifully marries Lord Durante, leaving behind her love.

The scraping of the legs of Colin’s against the stone floor interrupted the scenario that Adana was in the middle of dreaming up. “It’s time for me to go to bed.”

“But—“

Colin interrupted her protest before she could get more than a word out. “It is not my place to answer these questions. Good night, dear.” He patted Adana’s shoulder as he drew past her and out of the kitchen.

She released a heavy sigh and set the spoon and rag back down, listening to Colin’s shuffled step slowed by age as he moved towards the servants’ quarters. The secrets in the Nausikaa clan seemed to litter Atalaya Manor. Every time she turned around one such secret seemed to smack her in the face.

This was a riddle she was determined to solve.

[Arane Nausikaa]

Talsiny City, Talsiny
Fifteen years prior

Colin Kilmartin stood stock still, waiting for the young lady’s appraisal of the house. At fifty years of age, he was not a young man any longer and felt confident in his ability to direct the staff of a moderate household. That the household was of a bachelor made his job even easier. He knew that the young lady should not find anything out of order. Typically, however, young wealthy women had their heads full of ideas on how a household should be run. Colin would need to figure out a way to balance whatever demands this young woman was to make with the reality of the household.

Yet, there was some implacable quality that the aloof sixteen year old before him had which made him devote his complete attention to her every word.

Finally after carefully taking in the furniture in the final room of their tour – the main living room – the young lady took a seat on the sofa. She motioned for him to sit in a chair opposite of her. “Please, Mr. Kilmartin, sit.”

He hesitated momentarily before easing onto the chair. “I hope you find everything in order, Miss Nausikaa.”

A subdued smile warmed her features. The smile was obviously drawn up to put the man at ease and it had. He had known for some time that the adopted sister of his employer, Mr. Henry Nausikaa, would be returning from boarding school to live with them. He knew that the household would need to change to suit a young girl. However, he had expected just that – a young girl. Instead, a somber, serious creature in the body of a teenage girl had entered the house.

“I am sure everything is in perfect order. How presumptuous would it be of me to tell you how to go about a job you have been doing since before I was born?”

Colin could not help but smile. “The household staff and I just want to make sure that you feel comfortable in this house.”

“There is something I would like to discuss with you,” she stated politely.

He felt himself leaning forward, hanging onto every soft word that she spoke. It was not the pull of physical attraction but something more intangible and less frivolous. He had the desire to serve her. She clearly had the same ability of Henry, although on a less grand scale than he, to provoke loyalty. “Certainly.”

She folded her hands neatly in her lap before dropping her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “I need your help turning us – the orphans of Nausikaa – into the next great family of Talsiny. Clearly we have obtained the money. It is the status that the boys have been unable to obtain. That is why they sent me off to school and that is what I need your help for.”

A slow smile spread across Colin’s face. This girl was audacious. That the Nausikaa “family”, a close-knit group of orphans, had made the status leap into society that they had was unheard of. What this girl was proposing was shocking and intriguing. What more of a challenge could be laid down to one in his position?

Before he had a chance to answer, however, the deep voice of Henry Nausikaa could be heard echoing through the hallways. As Arane Nausikaa and Colin Kilmartin rose to their feet to greet him, Arane flashed Colin a bright smile. “We will talk more of this at a later date.”

“You certainly have been holding out me, Henry,” a strange voice announced. Henry Nausikaa was not the first to reach the room. Instead, a well-dressed man entered through the doorway and was instantaneously drawn to the petite woman. His dark hair was slightly overgrown in a manner which suggested it was done so on purpose in order to appear just enough disheveled to suggest that he did not care for his looks. His expensive clothing and find boots told otherwise. He crossed the room quickly towards Arane, plastering on an overly polite smile. “Well, well, well. This must be Miss Arane Nausikaa. I didn’t expect a proper lady.”

Arane arched a single brow at the man before allowing her gaze to slip past him to Henry who was just now making his way into the room. It had been several years since last they met and Henry could not have been any more shocked by the maturing that Arane had accomplished in that time. While still petite and delicate, she had turned from a raggedy-looking doll into an artful young woman.

It was not like Henry, however, to linger on a woman very long, especially not Arane. “Arane, let me introduce you to my friend… and I do use that word loosely.”

“My name is Ruke LaChayne,” the young man announced elegantly as he offered a low nod. “You certainly aren’t like the rest of the Nausikaa orphans.”

Arane laughed aloud at his bluntness while Colin frowned at the constant impertinent streak that ran through his employer’s business partners. “No, dear, I have social skills.”

Henry frowned slightly at the exchange and eased onto the corner of a chair. Arane was no longer the terribly shy girl he had left at the boarding school whom could easily become horrified by her own shadow. She was certainly not an ordinary sixteen year old by any means. Even when laughing, she appeared deep in serious thought.

With twinkling eyes, Ruke reached forward to give the young woman’s arm a pat. “Well, I must be going but I can promise you that I will be around this house much more often.”

Arane tilted her head to the side slightly and for a moment seemed the mere image of a flirtatious young woman. “I look forward to that, Mr. LaChayne.” With a nod of his head to the two men, Ruke swept out of the room with the same energy that he had entered.

Finally, Arane allowed her blue eyes to travel back to Henry and linger there. “Hello, Henry.”

Henry frowned sternly in contemplation as he gave her a look over. “She looks too thin,” he stated, addressing Colin. “Make sure she gets some food and rest.” With that proclamation, the head of Nausikaa rose from his chair and crossed the room to his study without another word or even a second glance to the childhood friend he had not seen in years.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Arane braved up a smile to Colin after the unprovoked snub. “Well, I can see we have much work to do on his manners.”

[Adana Nausikaa]

Marilyn Kilmartin kept a close eye on the stable boys as they set each of the chests down in the sitting room of Adana’s room. Adana watched her carefully, wondering when she had become old. Growing up, Marilyn had always been such a source of energy and fire in the household. For many years she had been the head of Arane Ganderfald’s personal staff but now she left those tasks to those younger and better suited with keeping track of Arane’s often hectic schedule.

“I believe that is the last of them,” Marilyn stated as the last stable boy set down his trunk and slipped back out of her sitting room.

Adana flashed a bright, grateful smile. “Mrs. Kilmartin, what was my mother like back then?”

Instantly Adana was able to tell that Colin had not warned her of the conversation the previous night. A smile spread across Marilyn’s face at the question as she fully turned to meet Adana’s gaze. “The same as she is now. Though, she is much happier since she has married Mr. Ganderfald and had you children.”

It was difficult for Adana to keep up the innocent curiousness. This she all knew. She wanted to know more. “When she the belle of the ball? Did she have many men to choose from?”

Marilyn paused thoughtfully before nodding. “Yes, I suppose she was. She was very lovely and had such a sharp wit. There was, of course, her very large dowry too.”

“Was there anyone in particular before my father?” Adana asked tentatively.

The elderly woman reached down to smooth out her skirts as she considered the question. “I suppose there was one man who spent a great deal of time with her. What was his name? Oh, Ruke LaChayne. Mr. Henry did not approve.”

That perked Adana’s attention. She leaned forward anxiously. Could this Ruke LaChayne be her father? Did Henry Nausikaa insist that they separate because he was not a good enough match for Arane, for Nausikaa?

Adana paused to control the excitement in her tone before asking, “What happened to him?”

“Mr. LaChayne is, well, he’s not the sort of polite company that Mr. Henry wanted for your mother. Thus, your mother married your father. Mr. LaChayne…” Marilyn lowered her voice before continuing. “Well, he deals with magic in the black market. Since Nausikaa has come to power and cracked down on the magic trade, I have heard that Mr. LaChayne has fled to RhyDin with many of his mages.”

Adana gave a slow nod as she processed the information that she was just given. “Did Mama get really sick when she was pregnant with me like she did with Zen and Lauren?”

Marilyn Kilmartin thought on the question for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I suppose she did not. She did not work nearly as hard back then, though. She got pregnant on her wedding night and you were born only eight months later. You were almost six weeks early.”

Her gaze leapt to the woman and she forced herself to exhale the breath she unconsciously held. Six weeks early? Adana had never been told that. “Was I healthy?”

“Well, yes. You were a relatively large baby for being so early. We all had been quite worried.” A slow smile spread across Marilyn’s lips as she gave a single shouldered shrug. “We shouldn’t have been, though. You are such a little fighter. Nothing can stop you.”

Adana smiled lightly at the compliment but her mind was still soaking in the news. Could Arane Nausikaa already have been pregnant before she married into the Durante family? “Thank you for having these brought to my room, Mrs. Kilmartin.”

Marilyn Kilmartin flashed Adana a grandmotherly smile before opening her door to step out of the room. “It is no trouble, dear.”

[Arane Nausikaa]

Atalaya Manor, Talsiny
Fifteen years prior

Marilyn Kilmartin stepped into Henry’s new study holding a tray of tea. Henry Nausikaa was surrounded by boxes of his books which he was carefully stacking onto the shelves lining the walls. Marilyn frowned at the mess as she placed the tray down on his desk. “Are you sure you do not want me to have someone do this for you, Mr. Nausikaa?”

The renovations to the ancient Atalaya Manor had finally been complete and the household was in the process of settling in. Stubborn as usual, Henry Nausikaa had insisted upon unpacking his own study. He turned from the mess to flash his disarming smile at Marilyn. “No, Mrs. Kilmartin. A little manual labor will do me some good.”

“Well, then there’s plenty of furniture to still be moved in if your interested,” Mrs. Kilmartin replied cheekily.

Henry gave a short laugh. “I think I will stick to my books.”

“Mr. Patrick and Mr. Edwin have just arrived from Talsiny City to see you,” she advised in a quiet tone.

Henry’s good humor was cut short. He ran a hand through his disheveled dark hair. Perhaps the move had been to distance himself from his adopted brothers, to distance himself from their business. The responsibilities kept adding up. He could not get away from the life. “Show them in,” he stated evenly.

Marilyn was barely out of the room before Edwin Nausikaa and Patrick Nausikaa were invading his study. For best friends, the two were complete opposites. Patrick was stocky with a shock of red hair and an irrepressible grin. Edwin, on the other hand, was lean and dark and usually only spoke when completely necessary. Of all the Nausikaa boys, these were the two Henry could count on the most and both would walk through fire if Henry said the word.

“The place is fantastic,” Edwin said to Henry in greeting.

Henry gave a slow nod, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It will be. I thought you two were coming here tomorrow.”

Patrick jumped into the conversation with the same bubbly energy that he tackled every task with. “We needed to speak with you about—“

He was interrupted by Edwin who stepped closer to the windows that overlooked the interior courtyard. “What is Arane doing with Ruke LaChayne?”

Patrick and Henry both turned towards the windows. Arane was seated gracefully on a bench clad in a light layer of pale blue fabric that made her appear even more delicate than she was. Her blonde curls were piled on top of her head effortlessly with one or two hanging loose to frame her cool blue eyes. Ruke LaChayne was standing before her and, while they could not hear the conversation, it was obvious by Ruke’s wild gesturing and Arane’s look of pure amusement that he was telling her a joke.

“The better question is when did she become pretty?” Patrick murmured under his breath.

Henry chose to ignore Patrick’s question and instead answered Edwin’s. “Who knows? I guess he’s taken by her. I have far more to worry about than the heart of a sixteen year old girl,” Henry said dismissively as he turned from the window.

Edwin and Patrick exchanged a glance. Patrick’s gaze implored Edwin to speak up. After a moment’s hesitation Edwin gave in to the look. “Henry, she cannot marry Ruke LaChayne.”

“This is Ruke we are talking about. He has no desire to marry,” Henry continued in the same dismissive tone.

“Look, Henry, she’s becoming important to us,” Patrick broke in. “She has found ways to raise our social standing and even the old families like her. I believe that you could arrange a marriage between her and one of the old families in money trouble if her dowry was large enough.”

“Think about what that would do for Nausikaa if she was an Anderson or a Durante,” Edwin said gently.

Henry twisted back to face the window, turning his back on the conversation. “She will marry who she chooses to marry.”

“What do you care, Henry? How would you know what she wants? You’ve barely spoken to her since she’s come back,” Patrick’s tone was sharp and frustrated.

Edwin shot him a sharp reproachful look but the questions caused Henry to pause because the tone was so unusual. He had told himself that he had been too busy to deal with Arane and what was to become of her from here. But perhaps Patrick was right. He heaved a heavy sigh before giving a somber nod to the pair.

“I will speak with her,” Henry stated evenly. “Now can we speak of something other than the love life of a sixteen year old girl?”

[Adana Nausikaa]

Adana frowned at the set of five ornately carved chests in front of her. She really had no idea what she was looking for within Arane’s fifteen year old clothing. With a frustrated sigh, she perched herself on the edge of the ottoman. This certainly was going to take some time and she did not have a lot of it. Her mother had left the Atalaya Manor for Talsiny City on business that morning. She was supposed to return first thing tomorrow morning. If Arane found that she had requested the chests to be pulled from storage, there would be questions asked. How would she answer those questions? She definitely could not tell her mother that she had requested them to find out if she had been lying about who her father was for a decade and a half.

It was preposterous. She could not imagine her mother in love with another man. It was logical for her father to be Lord Raffaele Pompeo Durante. He had been Arane Nausikaa’s husband. She had no choice. But for Adana’s father to not be the Lord Durante would mean that Arane would have chosen to take another. Adana had few memories before Cletus Ganderfald had come into her and her mother’s life. Their bond had been immediate, inseparable, and long-lasting. How could a fourteen year old girl not look at that with a romantic eye?

A flurry of activity in the hallway drew Adana’s attention to her door and a split second later the same bundle of energy burst through the door. Lauren Nausikaa Ganderfald with a bright grin and her hair resting on either shoulder in two messy braids appeared momentarily before her very tired looking nanny.

“Lauren, we must knock before we come into Adana’s room,” the nanny chided lightly.

If Adana was a younger version of Arane and Zen of Cletus than Lauren Nausikaa Ganderfald was a complete apparition. Instead of the cunningness that both Adana and Zen had inherited from their parents’, Lauren had wide, innocent eyes and open features. She showed no signs of the fierce competitiveness that drove her older siblings nor did she engage in their constant scheming.

Adana smiled to the tired woman. “I will talk to her about it but she can stay here with me until lunch if it is alright.”

The nanny gave a grateful nod and quickly made her exit before Adana had a chance to change her mind. Lauren turned her doe-like eyes on Adana. “What are you doing?”

Adana returned Lauren’s bright smile as she slipped off the ottoman kneel on the floor in front of one of the chests. “I had some of Mama’s old chests brought out. I thought you might want to take a look at some of the pretty clothes with me.”

Lauren clapped her hands with a giddy laugh. The glee was infectious and Adana could not help but laugh as well. She vaguely remembered how much fun dress up had been when she had been Lauren’s age. Adana swung the top of the chest open and was greeted with rich, vibrant fabrics carefully folded and stacked. Lauren immediately dove into the chest to pull free an emerald green dress. She held it up to her and gave a twirl with a giggle.

“I bet that Mama’s wedding dress is in here some where.” Adana flipped the lids of several more chests and on her third attempt was greeted with elegant white satin and lace. “Ah ha!”

Lauren was immediately quieted and in awe she dropped the elegant green dress to come in for a closer look. “Is that the dress that Mama wore when she married Daddy?” Lauren dropped to a crouch in front of it as if too scared to touch it.

“No, Mama and Cletus didn’t have a real Talsinian wedding. That was the dress that Mama wore when she married my Daddy, the Lord Durante.”

“I’m not going to marry a Lord. They’re old,” Lauren said with a look of disgust as she reached forward to pull out the dress.

Adana laughed and nodded. “Yes, they tend to be old. Be careful with that dress.”

Lauren ever so slowly pulled the dress free of the chest. What seemed to be acres of satin fabric slowly emerged with intricate embroidery covering the train. “I want to marry someone young and handsome like Losden,” Lauren said matter-of-factly.

Even when her baby sister complimented her fiancé, Adana could not help but smile. Of course, she had little to do with the match but she had immediately become the envy of her friends as the first betrothed. Her satisfaction was cut short when a small piece of paper fell out of the chest as the last of the train was unrolled and fluttered to the floor. Adana bent down to scoop it up before Lauren could lay eyes on it.

She had nothing to worry about, though. With no small amount of effort, Lauren was attempting to hold the heavy garment up to her chest. Adana carefully unfolded the square of paper to find a man’s hurried handwriting.

Arane,

You do not have to do this.

I love you and, despite what you say, I know you love me too.

Adana read the three lines several times before remembering to breathe. Slowly she exhaled and then refilled her lungs. The note was unsigned. It certainly could not be from Lord Durante. Her father and mother had never loved one another. Neither of them would have ever pretended that they had. This box of clothing and Arane’s wedding was five years before Cletus and Arane would even meet so it could not be him. Could it have been Ruke LaChayne?

When the writer said that she did not have to do “this” could he have been referring to marrying Lord Durante? As the note had been tucked into her wedding dress it seemed to be a reasonable assumption.

“What are you looking at, Adana?” Lauren asked with a tilt of her head.

Adana quickly refolded the piece of paper and stuck it into a small pocket on the front of her dress. She couldn’t tell Lauren. She couldn’t tell anybody what she had found until she was sure of what it could be. Why create uproar in the house if she was merely mistaken by the note? But how could she have mistaken the intent of that note? It seemed pretty clear.

Shaking off the thoughts, Adana dropped back to kneel in front of one of the unopened boxes. “It’s nothing, Lauren. Let’s find Mama’s hats!”

[Arane Nausikaa]

Atalaya Manor
Fifteen years prior

Several days past before Henry made good on his promise to have a conversation with Arane in regards to her future. Late in the afternoon Marilyn Kilmartin ushered the young woman into his study. Henry sat in a chair behind his desk with his fingers templed in contemplation. He carefully watched Arane’s every movement with a critical eye. At first glance she was almost an entirely different woman than the emotionally scarred girl he had left at the boarding school. The silent waif that he left there had completely disappeared and in her place stood an elegant, self-assured young woman.

She offered a polite nod and smile to Mrs. Kilmartin as the servant left the room, shutting the door behind her. Arane turned her calculating blue eyes onto Henry, straightening her posture in the seat before him. She lifted her chin with a willful frown. “I have been waiting for you to remember that I am here.”

It was those eyes, an underlying somber sadness, and her sharp tongue that reminded him that she was indeed the same girl. “I am sorry. I have been busy,” Henry stated evenly.

“Well, late is better than never. I have been hard at work with your household and the rest of the boys. It is time to turn our attention to you, though.” Her tone was confident, assertive. For a moment, he forgot that it was indeed he, not her, who was the head of Nausikaa.

“What are you talking about, Arane?”

She tilted her head at him, examining him with a critical eye before speaking. “We are to make Nausikaa one of the most powerful families in the country and you shall be the people’s king. They will listen to your every word and even the Council will have to bend to your will because of your pull with the common man.”

A stunned silence filled the room. Arane sat motionless with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her unwavering gaze held Henry’s dark eyes. What she was saying was impossible, was it not? No, deep down he knew it was not. Hadn’t it always been bubbling just beneath the surface? The signs of it starting could be seen everywhere – the way that Talsinians looked to him as if he was their own royalty, the increasing frequency in which important men deferred to his judgment, the anxiety of their rivals as Nausikaa's power grew.

“I don’t want that life, Arane. I just want to live quietly.” Henry was shocked by just how tired his voice sounded. After looking over the eleven boys of Nausikaa and one girl for his entire twenty-one years, Henry Nausikaa had become exhausted by the task. Already he had lost one of the Nausikaa boys. Just how many would he have to bury in this struggle?

Arane’s confidence did not waver. Her blue eyes continued to bore into him. He was forced to shift his gaze elsewhere. “You must accept your destiny, Henry. This is what you were born to become.”

Henry pushed his chair back violently and shoved himself to his feet. He turned away from the insistent woman to face the windows facing the inner courtyard. A pair of maids weighed down with baskets of wash giggled carelessly as they scampered out of the rain storm to the covered stone walkway that cut through the center of the courtyard. They could not be much older than Arane. What different lives they lived! Had she ever laughed so freely? Had any of them really?

“We all make decisions in life without fully knowing the consequences of these decisions. Sometimes the consequences change our lives. You made one such decision when you were thirteen. You gathered twelve of us up and asked us to leave with you, to trust you. We did and we have,” she explained gently.

Henry ran a hand through his dark hair before turning back to Arane. His blue eyes were heavy with the weight of his responsibilities, with the lives he had to protect. “I was thirteen years old, Arane. I have given my life to those boys and to you. You all are now well-provided for. I need to be done.”

Arane slowly rose to her feet, shaking her head insistently. “We have to secure our position or we are merely targets, just as Timothy was.”

Henry eased back into his chair slowly. She was right after all. She was only repeating what his own inner voice had been telling him. Timothy Nausikaa had been killed just over a year ago by a rival. The world they were living in was only getting more dangerous. How many would they lose on the road to becoming such a stronghold that they became untouchable? Yet if he forced his family to turn the other cheek to grabs for power and attacks would they not be seen as weak and risk action that may force war between rival factions?

Henry gave a reluctant sigh before responding. His decision was made. “How do we do that?”

A soft smile spread across her lips as she tilted her head at him. “It is time for you to trust me and I will show you.”

[Adana Nausikaa]

Several days had past and still Adana clung to her note. She thought back on it every chance that she had to be alone. In the household’s bustle of preparing for the holiday, her mood was easily overlooked.

This particular mild winter afternoon, she found a perch on a narrow bench across the aisle from Drago’s stall. She hugged her legs in close to her chest and set her chin on top the peeks of her knees comfortably. In the solitude, she allowed her wild imagination to once again roam free, drawing up the tragic life of a sixteen year old version of her mother.

In her mind’s world, Arane fell for Ruke LaChayne, a business friend of Patrick and George’s. She imagined Ruke as a tall, dashing, romantic man who had wooed her mother with sweet words and kindness. Henry would then have put his foot down. Arane could not marry a black market magic dealer. It would have done nothing to benefit Nausikaa. Instead, behind Arane’s back, Henry would have arranged the marriage with Lord Raffaele Pompeo of the ancient Durante family. Arane would have begged and pleaded with Henry but to no avail. On Arane’s wedding day, Ruke would have slipped her this note, asking her to run away with him. But Arane submitted to her sense of duty to Nausikaa and married Lord Durante.

“You have been day dreaming for the past three days.” Arane’s voice snapped Adana out of her imagined story. Arane eased down onto the bench beside her daughter with an effortless grace that seemed nearly out of place in a dirty stable. “He is a lovely horse,” she commented softly as her gaze followed Adana’s.

“I am very grateful to Losden for the present. I feel like I should repay him in some way.”

“He has not been home in a long while and will not be able to come back for the holidays either. Perhaps we should go to RhyDin with Cletus. Losden can then spend the holidays with us. Lauren and Zen will be happy at the possibility of having snow for Christmas and Cletus will not have to travel as much,” Arane mused thoughtfully, working the details out aloud.

A bright smile appeared on her daughter’s face. It was the perfect chance to find Ruke LaChayne as Mrs. Kilmartin had told her that he was living in RhyDin. “That is a great idea!”

“Good. We shall all go then,” she said distractedly. The overly enthusiastic response from Adana never dawned on the typically very observant woman. Instead her mind was consumed with making mental lists of what to have packed for the younger children.

“Mama?” Adana asked to grab her attention.

Arane turned her blue eyes from the stallion to Adana. “Hm?”

“Were you unhappy to marry my father?” Adana asked curiously.

Her mother’s brows arched in surprise at the question. There had spoken little of her father over the years. Thanks to the eleven Nausikaa men and Cletus Ganderfald she had never lacked a male role model in her life. What she knew of her father and mother’s relationship mostly came from overheard stories, gossip, and rumors. She knew that her father had not been a nice man. She knew that he had beaten her mother and she knew that it was rumored that her father’s death had not been at the hands of a stranger but that the crime had been committed by her own mother.

“Why do you ask, dear? Are you asking because of Losden?”

Adana gave a practiced shrug, aiming for a look of carelessness. “I was merely curious.”

Arane gave a light sigh as she leaned back against the wall behind them. Her delicate features aged before Adana's very eyes. “I knew it was best for Nausikaa. I married him to increase our social standing.”

“Did Henry make you?”

Arane's gaze darted to Adana’s face immediately. No change had been made to her body posture at all but the unease in her eyes was unmistakable. “I wanted to marry Lord Durante. I felt that it was what was right.”

Adana gave a measured nod but did not reply. Her mother had carefully avoided the question and that she knew was only further proof that she had been right. Arane twisted to face her, placing a hand lightly on her daughter’s arm. “Adana, what are you getting at? I do not regret having you. I have never regretted it.”

Finally a smile cracked across Adana’s pouty lips. “I know, Mama.”

“Good,” Arane said with finality in her tone as she leaned over to press a kiss against Adana’s forehead. With a gentle squeeze before releasing her hold on Adana’s arm, Arane stood to her feet to flash Adana a mischievous smile. “Now I’m going to go find the fastest horse in this stable and we’re going to find what that stallion of yours is made out of.”

Adana leapt to her feet immediately and called back playfully, “Prepare to eat sand!”

[Arane Nausikaa]

Atalaya Manor
Fifteen years prior

Henry stood at the window of his study staring out into the inner courtyard. As usual for this time of day Arane was lingering in the courtyard on a bench beneath a palm tree with a battered book in hand. The book was being ignored as Ruke seemed to be thoroughly entertaining her with a never ending series of outrageous stories.

His lips tightened into a frown at the scene that had distracted him from his work. Perhaps Patrick and Edwin were at least partially correct. Ruke LaChayne spending time with impressionable young women was usually not a good idea. However, could Arane truly be called impressionable? There was no doubt that she was young but over the past several months she had become a fundamental counselor to Henry. He could not doubt her guile, her intelligence. She would not, could not fall for Ruke’s act.

Could she? Deep down was she not still mere days past her seventeenth birthday? Did she not still have the starry-eyed dreams of any other seventeen year old?

In an overdramatic gesture Ruke valiantly dropped to a knee and grabbed one of her small hands in both of his. Although he could not hear the words that passed between the two, Henry was able to see the highly amused expression on Arane’s face.

That was it. He had seen enough. He dropped the log book in his hand and it thumped heavily against his desk. His long strides took him out of the study. He brushed past Colin Kilmartin who passing through the hallway. Muttering an apology, he continued stalking his way into the inner courtyard.

Ruke had already vanished by the time that he got there and Arane was now engulfed in the Talsinian history book in her hands. She closed the leather bound book and set it in her lap as Henry approached. “Henry, you look upset. Is there something wrong?”

“I am fine,” his tone was a bit harsher than he had intended. Henry paused to temper his tone before responding to her question with a question of his own. “What did Ruke want?”

“He was delivering a message from Patrick,” Arane responded evenly.

“It did not appear that way,” he muttered as he slowly eased onto the bench beside her. “Is there something between the two of you that I should know about?”

Arane’s gaze coolly moved on Henry, inspecting his profile for a long moment before responding in the same even, unemotional tone. “Henry, dear, I know that technically you are my guardian but who I choose to spend my time with, to be friends with is no business of yours.”

“So you are in love with him then?” Henry shot back. “Do you really think he loves you?”

Her response to his terse question was withheld as a stable boy cut through the inner courtyard within hearing distance. Arane offered him a soft smile of greeting and he waved enthusiastically in return before slipping off to return to his duties. When he had disappeared, Arane turned fully to face Henry and dropped her voice to a low, serious tone. “Again, that is none of your business.”

“I will not consent to a marriage between you and a magic dealer.” Henry frowned sternly back at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“No, you will not.”

Henry paused at winning the argument so easily. This had to be a trap. Arane was always setting traps of logic for him to fall into. “I will not?”

“No,” Arane responded in the same even tone. “In the next several days Lord Raffaele Pompeo Durante will seek your company and ask for my hand in marriage. He has been assured that I come with a large dowry that I am sure Nausikaa will be happy to provide for me considering the connections that this will create.”

Henry drew back in surprise at her bold statement. His gaze finally took stock of the brazen young woman. Her blonde curls hung loose to her shoulders and her thin lips were drawn up in a pert, self-satisfied smile. It was a great accomplishment. For any woman to become the Lady Durante would be such a immense triumph but for an unknown orphan whom only recently came onto the social scene and whose only familial ties were with unrelated fellow orphaned outlaws the task was quite nearly impossible. This meant so much for Nausikaa, so much for their business. “Arane, you didn’t have to—“

“Hush, Henry,” she said softly and with a dismissive wave. “Be happy for me. Think of the trouble I can cause as the Lady Durante and think of what it will do for Patrick, Edwin, and the rest of the boys.”

A slow smile spread across Henry lips and he leaned forward to press a kiss on either one of her cheeks. “Is it too early for congratulations?”

“It is never too early for congratulations,” she replied cheekily as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

[Adana Nausikaa]

“I got the information you asked for in your letter,” Losden said quietly as they strolled through the new gardens on the revamped Ganderfald estate in RhyDin. The new plants would not take hold until spring and were covered in a layer of light snow. However, with the manor bustling in Christmas celebration, the gardens was one of the few places on the estate where they could find some measure of privacy.

Thus, they walked side by side heavily bundled to protect them from the chill. Adana glanced over her shoulder to ensure that her chaperones, a pair of her tittering maids, were walking far enough behind them not to hear. She had nothing to worry about. The two were fully engaged in a daily exchange of tantalizing Talsiny gossip. Their chitchat along with the loud crunch of the snow beneath their boots kept Losden and Adana’s conversation confidential. “Where is he?”

Instead of answering the question, Losden provided her with a slip of paper. His gaze lingered on her in a look of brotherly concern. “What is this for exactly, Adana?”

The question caused her to pause. Her mother had constantly expressed to her how important it was to attempt to create a bond with Losden during their years of engagement and separation. Lying to him did not seem to be a good way to start this. “I don’t think Lord Durante was my father,” she whispered back.

Losden nearly tripped over his own booted feet at Adana’s announcement. “And you believe Ruke LaChayne has some idea who is?” he whispered back after recovering.

“I believe he may be my father,” Adana responded low and evenly.

Silence fell over the pair for a long moment and only the crunching of the snow beneath their boots and the friendly chattering of the pair of maids filled the chilly afternoon. After several long moments to collect his thoughts, Losden once again found his voice. He spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully. “Adana, I truly do not believe that your mother would have cared for Ruke LaChayne.”

“Why is that?” she asked curiously, turning her dark blue eyes on him.

The question went unanswered. Losden seemed too polite to respond with his true feelings on the man. Instead his brows furrowed in concern and he shot Adana a furtive glance. “You are not planning on going to visit this man, are you?”

Now while Adana knew her mother would have been open with Cletus to this point she also knew that this would be the point in the conversation in which her mother would lie. Cletus, of course, knew Arane well enough to know that it was a lie. Adana was willing to bet that Losden did not know her that well -- at least not yet.

“No, I just want to find out a bit more about him,” she replied innocently.

Losden paused momentarily and for a brief moment Adana feared that he saw through her act. However, after a split second he offered a nod and seemed to dismiss the subject. “Well, look into it if you like but I believe that you are incorrect.”

Adana offered him a bright smile, eager to change the topic suddenly. “How about you tell me about this property you wish to buy to someday build your house upon?”

“Our house,” Losden corrected as a proud smile spread across his lips and then he immediately leapt into a description of its many attributes. Adana’s posture relaxed as she seemed to have successfully steered the topic away from Ruke LaChayne. It was only a moment more before Losden’s enthusiasm had infiltrated her as well and the pair continued their walk, bouncing off ideas for the grand house that they would someday have built.

[Arane Nausikaa]

Atalaya Manor
Fifteen years prior

A heavy downpour had settled in on Atalaya Manor and it showed no signs at all that it would allow even the briefest of moments of sun that day. Henry frowned gravely out the window of his study at the dreary inner courtyard. He was not sure what was irritating him more – the weather or the note he had just received from Edwin.

With an offer of marriage from Lord Durante now having been accepted by Arane and wedding details being arranged, Edwin and Patrick Nausikaa were now plotting how to forge other alliances. Despite the questionable manner in which the Nausikaa fortune was earned, Edwin insisted that Henry was considered as one of the most eligible bachelors in Talsiny and, thus, a valuable asset in securing another such familial tie as they had done with the Durante family.

The thought of a marriage being arranged for him to get a better price on the grain they used in their illegal distilling business irritated Henry to the point of the anger. Or was it the weather? Either way he stomped out of his study hoping to find someone to vent to over Edwin’s effrontery.

His irritation was replaced with curiosity as he heard a second voice on the outdoor patio. He paused just inside the doorway where he could not be seen and listened to the conversation just outside. Arane usually watched the rain under the covered stone walkway that cut through the large inner courtyard. However, this afternoon she wasn’t alone.

“Why not, Arane? Would Peter Pan and the Lost Boys disapprove?” Ruke questioned in a rare serious tone with an inkling of frustration creeping into his voice. Henry’s posture instantaneously stiffened. Obviously Ruke was referring to Henry as Peter Pan and the rest of Nausikaa as the Lost Boys. Was he talking about them disapproving him marrying her? If so then he was right.

Henry heard Arane give a short laugh at the analogy. “Does that make me Wendy?”

Ruke’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Of course not! You, my dear, are Tinker Bell with your fairy-like smile and always whispering advice in Peter Pan’s ear. You are the brains of the operation.”

It was more than Henry could stand. He stepped through the doorway which immediately broke up the conversation. Ruke murmured his goodbyes as Henry appeared. He wasted no time in slinking off under the sour look that Henry directed his way.

As soon as he had departed from their midst, Arane turned a stern look on Henry. “I do not know how you have fooled all of Talsiny into believing you are a polite, good-natured man because you have actually become quite rude.”

“I have not forced you to marry Lord Durante and should you wish to back out of the arrangement I would allow that to happen,” Henry began, ignoring her condemnation.

“Well, that is good to know,” Arane interjected.

Henry continued on as if he had not been interrupted. “However, I will not stand for you to make an alliance with a magic dealer. We are trying to become more acceptable to society, not less.”

The rain fell around them and broke the tense silence. Anger flashed in Arane’s eyes. She was so frustratingly good at hiding her emotions. She always had been. Henry was instantly regretful for his sharp tone. Those somber eyes of hers still reminded him of the eight year old girl he had tripped over in the hallway. She had changed his life.

“I will marry whom I choose. I have chosen to marry Lord Durante for the good of my brothers,” Arane said evenly. There was not a hint of anger in her tone. She had successfully bottled up her emotions once more.

He wanted to shake her. He wanted her to yell at him. He wanted to get some response out of her. Why was that so difficult? “We are not your brothers. We are merely kids who had to protect you because you could not protect yourself all those years ago,” Henry shot back bitterly.

His hurtful words literally caused her to stumble back a step and her hands dropped to clasp over her abdomen as if she had been punched in the stomach. The abuse at the hands of the doctor had never been spoken of, had never even been alluded to since they left the orphanage that day.

Without a word, she sprang past Henry, brushing against him in her search for refuge within the fortified walls of Atalaya Manor. Henry closed his eyes and released a heavy exhale. Around him the rain continued to fall in torrents. Not even Atalaya Manor seemed safe from the effects of this storm.

[Adana Nausikaa]

Ruke LaChayne loved RhyDin. The women were easy, there was nothing illegal, and he could thumb his nose at Talsinian authority without much chance of reprisal. The latter is what drew him to claim the Nausikaa Hotel and Casino in the Seaside district as his RhyDinian home. It gave him some measure of satisfaction to rent a penthouse suite owned by the reigning monarchy of Talsiny which had recently made it quite clear that neither he nor his black market magic business were welcome in Talsiny. The pleasure was particularly poignant tonight. He had Charlie Nausikaa under his thumb and she did not even know it. He was still reaping the benefits of a very successful venture into Iron Fists dueling. His mage employees were all very happy in the open, accepting atmosphere of RhyDin. And he was leading a particularly dumb, but more importantly beautiful, woman up to his room.

“I can’t wait to see your place, Ruke. I bet it has a fantastic view,” Monica said so soothingly in his ear. At least he thought her name was Monica. Or was it Monique? It did not really matter.

He offered her a smile as he slipped his key into the lock and twisted it open. He swung the door open for her, gesturing her inside. “Go have a look for yourself, my dear.”

Mon-something-or-another stepped through the doorway and Ruke followed her, closing the door behind them. As soon as he turned back around, the woman was frowning sternly in his face. “Look, Ruke, I’m not really sure what type of girl you took me for but I’m not into other women.”

Ruke’s brows furrowed in confusion at her comment. “What are you talking about?”

The woman pointed a finger behind her and Ruke leaned to the side to look past her to the indicated area. Shockingly enough, Adana Durante Nausikaa stood there staring back. Panic welled up in Ruke’s stomach instantly. Did she know what he had done to Charlie when Adana had Hazel return Charlie from the dead? No, he assured himself. There is no way she could know.

“I think you better go, Monica.” Ruke swung the door back open for her.

“It’s Miranda,” the woman huffed as she stormed out.

“Of course it is,” he murmured under his breath as he swung the door closed behind her.

Adana stood silently with her hands clasped in front of her. There was no sign of fear on her serious visage. Ruke motioned to the sofa she stood before. “Please sit, my dear.” He casually moved to take a chair opposite of her. He would not allow her to know of his surprise or curiosity over her visit.

Her blue eyes briefly dropped to the sofa before turning on him. “I’d prefer to stand,” she said in a formal tone.

“If you wish,” Ruke replied with a polite shrug as he himself settled into an ornately carved settee. “How may I help you?”

“Are you my father?”

Ruke was suddenly quite glad that he was sitting. “Of course not!” he replied quickly.

Adana’s lips drew into a frown and she paused. The quick denial was not what she had been expecting. Suddenly, however, she was not sure what she had been expecting and was not sure if he was lying. “You are not?”

“God, no. Whatever gave you that impression?” Ruke asked, leaning forward in the chair. The initial shock was wearing off and curiosity was setting in. As always, Ruke was anxious to gain any bit of truth that may be used against others at a later date.

Adana tripped over her tongue as she broke into explanation. He seemed to be telling the truth. “I have reason to believe that Lord Durante may not be my father and I was told that you spent a great deal of time with my mother just before her marriage.”

“Ah,” Ruke said carefully as he leaned back in the chair once more. He rested one hand sewn boot on his opposite knee. He tilted his head slightly to take in the young woman before him. “Well, yes, I did. I was trying to get her to leave Nausikaa. Henry was dismissive of her. Yet, she was making him the most revered man in Talsiny. He was becoming more loved than the Cardinal himself. I was hoping she would do the same for me as I would have proved a much more grateful student than he.”

Adana finally accepted that the man was not her father but he was dishing out information willingly. She carefully lowered herself to a ladylike perch on the edge of the sofa. “Did Henry make her marry Lord Durante?”

Ruke paused on the question before shaking his head. The idea of any man, even Henry Nausikaa, making Arane do anything against her will was laughable. “Not at all. That was entirely her choice. She was loyal to Nausikaa and had decided it was what was best for them. Perhaps I knew she would never leave Nausikaa but she was a witty conversationalist.” He flashed Adana a cheeky grin after adding the latter comment.

She frowned in frustration at the dead end she had just hit. If Ruke was not the man who had written the note that was with Arane’s wedding dress then who could it have been? “So she was not in love with you?”

“No,” Ruke stated firmly. A smile spread across his lips at the idea of a love child between he and Arane Nausikaa. “And I think that you are barking up the wrong tree. I am sure that your father is Lord Durante. All your mother thought about in those days was her upcoming wedding and how best to bring Nausikaa into the highest social circle. I believe Henry and the rest of those Nausikaa boys took up every inch of space in your mother’s heart.”

Suddenly with that statement, it all clicked.

Adana’s dark blue eyes grew wide as the knowledge was finally accepted as true. Abruptly she pushed herself to her feet. “I-I am sorry for the intrusion. Thank you for your time.”

“Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Ruke called, rising to follow after her.

However, before he could make two steps for the door, his young companion had squirted out of the room. She brushed her way past guests as she sped towards the stairs. Her padded feet thumped against each step as she went down floor-by-floor. Her mind raced a mile a minute. Old memories began to make sense. The clues were adding up. She had to have one final piece of proof.

Since the explosion that destroyed the Nausikaa headquarters in RhyDin, much of the day-to-day operation was taking place on the second story of this building. Adana burst through a door marked “Employees Only” without slowing. The documents saved from the fire had to be here for safe-keeping until Nausikaa’s RhyDin headquarters could be rebuilt.

“Miss Nausikaa?” A man stepped up to receive her. Adana could not pinpoint his name but his face was recognizable. He was Nausikaa. “Is your mother here?”

“No, I remember there was a letter in the Nausikaa archives. My mother showed it to me once. It was written about eleven or twelve years ago to the Bishop’s Council to protest Condemnation Number 436.”

The man nodded and responded, “Yes, I know the one that you’re talking about. It’s pretty famous among us. I suppose I should not be surprised that you have read it as well.”

“Did it survive the fire?” Adana asked. She wrung her hands together in anticipation of the answer. There were other ways, of course, to find the answer to her question but this would be immediate proof. Her heart had to know the answer know. She simply could not wait.

“Actually, it did.” He held up a hand for her to wait before disappearing in one of the back rooms. She could hardly breathe for fear that he was wrong and the letter was lost. After several moments he reemerged with the original in hand. Carefully and reverently he held it out to her. She could almost hear her own heart beating. She took the letter and pulled it close to her breast.

“Can I ask what this—“ But before the words had finished leaving his mouth, she had dashed for the exit and was climbing the stairs back up. In shock the employee did not give chase as she ran out with a venerated piece of Nausikaa history. Yet, despite the lack of a fight, she continued to hastily climb the floors of the building.

She reached the landing of the top floor out of breath and exhausted. With her back against the wall, she slid to the floor of the deserted stairwell. The sound of her own heart thundering reverberated in her ears. With great care, she set the fabled letter down on the landing and pulled the letter that she had discovered in Arane’s chest out. Her gaze swung over the words on the second letter once again.

Arane,

You do not have to do this.

I love you and, despite what you say, I know you love me too.

Carefully, she placed it beside the first. Pursing her lips into a concentrated frown, she compared the writing on the two letters. Each was written by a masculine hand. It had no flurry of extra effort. Every curve exuded confidence. Every line was self-assured. Both letters were clearly written by the same hand.

The note to Arane had been unsigned but the note to the Bishop’s Council was indeed signed. At the bottom of the letter sat the undeniable proof and what she now believed was her father’s name – Henry Nausikaa.

[Arane Nausikaa]

Atalaya Manor
Fifteen years prior

“Mr. Nausikaa?” Mrs. Kilmartin stuck her head out of Atalaya Manor to call to him over the pounding rain.

Henry reopened his eyes and turned to face her. He drew a hand through his short dark hair, giving himself a moment to collect his temper before responding. “Yes, Mrs. Kilmartin?”

“Is everything okay, sir?”

The look of concern on her face told him that everything was not. “Why do you ask?”

Her gaze dropped as if she was briefly deciding if it was better to become involved in the matter or if doing so would be improper. When her gaze lifted it was obvious that she had decided that she had a duty to become involved. “Miss Nausikaa seemed quite upset. She said she was going for a walk on the beach. I insisted that with her health and with the cold rain that was the worst idea I had ever heard. However, no amount of reasoning could stop her. She did not even have a coat.”

“Christ,” Henry cursed beneath his breath as he rushed past her. He wasted only a moment to throw on his coat before stepping out the double front doors of Atalaya. With the sand soaked to a hardened state, he was easily able to clear the dunes.

By the time he reached the shore, his clothes were already completely soaked through. His gaze swept north and then south, attempting to choose a direction. After a moment’s thought, he chose south and began to jog down the shore in that direction. Arane always seemed to walk from Atalaya to the south. He had accompanied her on many of those walks. She always listened patiently while he complained of the many tires of being in his position.

Why did he take out all of his irritations on her? Why did he seem to be so uncontrolled in her presence? Those questions along with many others ran through his mind. He had no answers, only more questions.

He was not far in his journey before his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. His heart threatened to explode with the effort of the run and forced him to slow to a quick walk. Desperately he searched the shoreline and cursed the limited visibility. And then when he had all but given up hope, he spotted her sitting in the wet sand. Her knees were drawn up against her chest and she was hugging her legs. The blue dress that matched her eyes was a soggy mess and clung to her tiny figure. His exhaustion was forgotten and he finished the trip to her in a run.

Her blue eyes swept up to him but before she could protest, he reached down to scoop her up into his arms. “This is about the stupidest thing you have ever done,” he grumbled but without an ounce of harshness to his tone.

She did not fight him as he carried her away from the shoreline. Her body was limp and cold to the touch. The cold rain continued to pound down around them. “There’s an abandoned fisherman’s hut just over the dunes here. We’ll get into it until the storm passes,” he murmured more to himself than to the unresponsive woman in his arms.

As soon as he reached the one-room hut, he shoved his back against the door and ducked through the doorway. Though the thatched roof was leaky, there was a threadbare cot in a dry corner on which he laid Arane upon. “Come on, Arane. Talk to me. Yell at me.” He stripped his soaked coat and shirt off, dumping them onto the lone table in the room.

He pulled a chair close to the bed and dropped onto it heavily. “I’m fine,” she stated shortly, still breathless from the chill. She refused to meet his gaze, keeping hers adverted towards a wall.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” he said as he reached for her.

She quickly drew back and his reach earned him a sharp look. “Do not touch me. Do you really think I’m just going to sit around here naked in front of you?”

Henry leaned back with a slight frown. Of course she was right. Why did he constantly overlook the fact that this little girl had grown into a woman? “Cover yourself in that blanket,” he said, motioning towards one at the end of the bed.

She swung her legs off the edge of the cot, shooting him another stern look. “Turn around.”

He held up his hands innocently before rising to his feet and turning his back to the woman. He shook his head at the trouble his comment had caused him. George or Patrick would have simply punched him for saying something that hurtful. Men were so much easier to deal with.

“I do not need you to protect me,” she spat in his direction as she began to change.

Out of habit, Henry began to twist his head over his shoulder to deliver a retort without thinking but before he could get a word out, Arane snapped at him once again. “I said turn around.”

Sighing heavily, Henry shifted his gaze back to the door once again. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I am grateful for the help you have given us. If you want to marry Ruke, you can marry…” He trailed off as his eyes caught his own reflection in a small dirty mirror hanging beside the door above a basin. It was not his reflection that had caused him to stop mid-sentence, though. It was the image of Arane behind him.

Her reflection was fuzzy in the dirty shaving mirror but her womanly form was clear. She dropped the thin wet dress onto the table next to his clothing before turning to grab the blanket at the end of the bed. He lifted his hand to cover a cough and sheepishly dropped his gaze.

“You can turn around,” she stated once she had wrapped the blanket around her body and settled herself onto the edge of the bed. “What were you saying?”

He spun back around and drew a hand through his hair. His gaze never got past Arane’s face. Her blonde hair was wet and drawn up in loose spiral curls enclosing her delicate features. Her dark blue eyes were alive in a mixture of emotion, most notably anger. Her chin was set in defiance. She was laying down some unspoken challenge to him.

He didn’t want to play her games of logic anymore. He didn’t want to spar with her verbally. He was tired of the bickering. Suddenly, it all came into place. Suddenly, he knew that he had wanted her all along.

Henry dropped beside her onto the edge of the bed. Her stern look faltered in surprise and before she had a chance to continue her lecture, he slid a hand beneath her curls to rest against the back of her head. Heatedly he moved in and without much of a second thought pressed his lips against hers. Her hands reached up and landed against his bare chest but did not attempt to push him away.

He reopened his eyes as he unhurriedly pulled away to catch her gaze. Her eyes were still shut tight. She took a protracted inhale before opening them, meeting his gaze readily. His hand drifted off the back of her head and his fingertips traveled lightly down over her shoulder and the outside arm before reluctantly releasing contact.

Her voice came breathless and shaky. “What did you just do?”

“I kissed you and if you don’t mind, I’d like to do it again,” he whispered hurriedly as he leaned back in towards her.

Her hands on his chest did offer gentle resistance him this time. He did not come any closer. The pitter patter of rain drops slipping in through the leaky thatched roof and hitting the floor boards interrupted the stillness. Henry waited patiently for Arane to collect herself enough to put together a sentence. It was shocking how clear this had all become to him and he knew now that he would wait forever if need be for this woman to realize the truth as well.

“You cannot kiss me,” she explained finally.

“Why not? Because of Ruke?” Henry shot back. The bitterness in his own voice struck him by surprise.

She shook her head adamantly. “This has nothing to do with Ruke. I am engaged. And you are my guardian.”

“I just decided that you are not marrying Lord Durante or anyone else for that matter,” Henry stated firmly, leaning in closer to her. His lips were mere inches from hers, waiting for her to give into the attraction. He drew his fingertips up her bare arms once more which drew an extended sigh from her.

“We can’t do this,” she whispered back half-heartedly. Despite her words, her eyes fluttered shut and her arms relaxed their tension.

Henry leaned in further to press a kiss against her cheek before whispering into her ear, “Forget everything. Just for today. Let me just have you right here and right now?”

She reached up to draw her fingers lightly along his jaw bone from his cheek to the tip of his chin. Arane tilted her head to the side as she carefully inspected his features, causing a damp lock to fall into her eyes. “Just do not fall in love with me.”

He reached up to gently push the lock away and smiled as it fell right back down. “I am starting to think that it may be too late for that warning.”