Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) by Michael Phillip Cash

by dizziness. A gentle webbed hand rested against her shoulder, and she heard the muted whispers of the queen and Zayden.
    “ Ah, you have decided to join us.” Reminda bent over and smiled into her niece’s eyes.
    Hilde felt Zayden’s strong hands lift her, and a glass was held against her lips.
    “ I looked for your lady mother, but she cannot be found,” Reminda continued. “Do you know where she is, child? All our nevi seem to be out.”
    “ Must be a solar flare,” Zayden said. “I think I remember reading about them earlier this week.”
    “ More likely the smoke from the fires in the Desa,” the queen retorted. “A minor inconvenience.” She smiled. “I rather enjoy being cut off from the world for just a bit.”
    R aising a hand to her forehead, Hilde responded quietly that she had no idea where Beatha was. Though she felt Zayden’s gaze on her, she kept her eyes averted. Sweet Sradda , she wondered, what to do? What to do?
    “ You gave me quite a scare,” Zayden told her softly, doubling her misery.
    “ My brother?” she whispered back.
    Zayden shook his head . “Moon madness? The king has sent out a patrol to bring him in.”
    “ Perhaps you are hungry?” the queen inquired, and slipped her arm through Hilde’s to help her walk into the Ambros room.
    I n the serenity of the queen’s chambers, there was no sign of the guards rushing about. Gentle music filled the air. It was as it always was—peaceful—and Hilde wondered whether she had dreamed overhearing her parents’ plot. A large buffet filled with Darracian and Quyroo delicacies was spread across the entire back of the room. Strange smells drifted through the air, and Hilde noticed a small group of Quyroo laughing nearby. The Darracian court was observing them, and her mother, Countess Beatha, was noticeably missing.
    “ Where is the prince?” Hilde asked the queen.
    “ Off with my handmaiden in the Desa.”
    Hilde stiffened; Zayden felt her tension and said, “Your Highness, allow me a few minutes with Lady Hilde, please?”
    Reminda nodded regally and went off to join the group of Quyroos.
    Zayden escorted his cousin into a private room.
    “ You’re jumpy today, little one.” He pulled her near a divan and stroked her arm. “I doubt they will do much to Pacuto—perhaps a banishment.”
    He cupped her hands in his own; his sword had made his palms calloused, but to Hilde they felt reassuring and made her feel safe.
    “ It’s not that,” she whispered urgently. “It’s—”
    Zayden pressed his finger against her lips. “I have spoken to my father. I have asked for you. I know I should first speak to your father, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Dare I hope you will take me as your husband?”
    Tears gathered in Hilde’s eyes. This was everything she had dreamed of; Zayden was the answer to all her hopes. If she told him what she knew about her parents’ impending coup, he would feel only disgust for her. But how would he ever trust her if she failed to tell him what she knew?
    “ I…There is something…”
    “ Hilde, don’t say another word. I must be brave and face your father.” He smiled, his skin wrinkling in the corners of his eyes.
    Before she could answer, the sound of booted feet interrupted them, and the doors to the Ambros room burst open. Hilde shrank back into Zayden’s embrace. They could see everything but remained hidden in the shadows of the retiring room. Staf Nuen stood boldly in the entrance, the severed head of the Quyroo leader in his fist. A trail of blood dripped onto the pristine floor.
    There were screams, and Zayden reached for his Fireblade.
    The Quyroo’s mate wailed and pulled at her red braids. “This is how you give us Darracian hospitality?” she cried bitterly.
    Reminda moved directly in front of Staf, her face filled with cold rage. “Where is my husband, the king?”
    “ I am here.” Two guards pushed Drakko into the room, his hands tied behind his back with thick hemp.