Chapter Twenty-Four

“My mother fell in love with a commoner and married him?” Volencia stared across the table at Gregron. The icy stare from her father was still plastered there on his face.

“He wasn't exactly just any commoner. He was a war hero and son to the last Deaconess. Brother to the current one.”

A groan behind her told her Damion was stirring. He lifted himself to half sitting, his head covered by his hands. Pouring a glass of water, she brought it to him, kneeling beside the sofa. Venron’s eyes cleared now that no one was talking about something being stopped by the curse and he smiled over at them.

Touching his arm, she held out the water, which he swallowed down in a gulp. “How are you feeling?” Volencia rested the glass beside her.

“Tired.” Damion said, clearing his throat. “And my head is killing me.” His eyes didn’t seem to be focusing, though they looked normal otherwise. “How’s the King?”

“He’s right over here, doing well. It worked, Damion. Because of you, I’ve finally heard the words I love you from him. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Damion tried to look around but ended up covering his eyes and holding his head. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just outta sorts.” He tossed aside the blanket but teetered as he put his feet to the ground. Volencia tucked herself beside him. He was bent over, elbows on his knees, face in his palms. “I just…”

“It’s okay. Take it easy.” Her fingers messaged his hair and scalp. He sighed, leaning into her, and she put his head in her lap. Rubbing his head and shoulders, his eyes closed.

Her father chuckled from across the room. “Getting comfy over there?” Damion started to raise himself off her, but Volencia held him fast and he didn’t fight her.

“You saw that I tried to get up to come join you, but your daughter’s holding me prisoner.” His arms half created a pillow on her lap, half held her.

Venron left the table, sitting in his normal chair across from them. “An oh so unwilling prisoner.” He chuckled. Damion lifted his head enough to open an eye, but then nuzzled against her lap again. Volencia chewed her lip, enjoying the feel of his hair under her hands. Her fingers found the back of his neck, and he shivered. “Are you hungry? I could make a plate for you.” The King offered.

“Never thought I’d have a King offer to serve me. But no, thank you. I think I need a little time for my head to straighten out.”

“Are you up to talk about what is going to happen next? You still will need to go home, is that correct?”

“Yes. I have to dispel the curse that is held in the sword. It’s all too much for me to do without a conduit myself. I’m guessing there are still things that will trigger parts of the curse. I had to break it, so we’re not going to want to wait too long before doing this again.” The small fire in the hearth started to cast shadows along the bookshelves and furniture as it danced. Gregron threw another log on and lit a few candles around them as the sun set and it grew darker. “How are your thoughts? Do they feel addled or out of sorts? No blank spots of confusion, like you’re reaching for something that missing?”

“No. Despite your previous worries, from what I can tell, all my memories remain intact, even if I can’t speak of all of them at this time. No blank spots.” Venron looked down into his cup. “You did well protecting my mind as you pulled that beastie out of me, and not only do I thank you, I owe you.”

Damion sighed, trying to sit up again, this time able to look at Venron directly. “No. It was my honor, Majesty. You owe me nothing.” His hand went to Volencia’s knee, “I’m sorry to ask, but could you grab me another glass of water?”

“Of course.” She squeezed his hand before grabbing the pitcher and refilling his cup, leaving the pitcher on a side table. She went back and filled a small plate. She started with a partridge breast with a drizzle of honey and herbs, a seasoned side of fresh garden vegetables, and a biscuit that she sliced and added a small amount of cream to. Bringing the plate with her, she held it out to Damion. “If you want anything, if not, I’ll just put it over here.”

“Thank you,” he snagged half the biscuit from the plate and waved the rest away.

Venron watched them both carefully, he drank down another glass of wine, and narrowed his eyes at Damion. “So, you come to my kingdom, save the princess from certain doom, train my army in new attacks and methods, befriend my General and gain his trust-which mind you is not an easy task, and free me from a curse that I never thought I would be free of… yet, you ask for nothing?”

“You were my father’s best friend. He thought of you as a brother. If it were him doing this, would you be surprised if he refused?”

“Not at all. But it wouldn’t stop me from asking what I can do. Just know that if there is anything you need or desire,” his eyes wandered over Volencia. Damion’s started to follow his gaze, but when he realized where it led, he jerked back around. She looked away her heart slamming. Did he just offer her to someone without even asking? “Then I hope you will let me know.”

“Fair enough. Then, yes, there is something, in reference to your daughter, I would like to request.” Volencia looked at Damion in surprise. That her father had made the reference had been odd at first, but that Damion was getting in on it, made her wonder if her mind had wandered somewhere different. “I would like to remind you that I will have to leave for Samanthia early tomorrow, before the sun rises. I would like to see if you would object to the Princess coming with me. It was at her request to begin with, but I couldn’t say yes without knowing how you felt about it.”

Gregron cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t be in the Princess’s best interest. Imagine the rumors that would spread. It would be catastrophic. Folk would assume the worst.”

Venron eyed Gregron for a moment, before looking back at Damion and Volencia. “Did either of you come up with a way for it not to look like the Princess is running away with her hero?”

Damion blushed, looking away. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Volencia smiled, touching his arm. “Yes. If anyone asks, it’s a matter of needing information for our new quest, and Damion’s family can assist with that. I’ll bring Trishia, so that we are not left unescorted. This isn’t about running away with anyone, there are answers I seek, and I believe the Samanthians will be able to assist me with them.”

“Then…” he looked toward the fire pensively. “I suppose I agree this is something she should do. When you get back, be rested. I do believe a visit to Lalolia is in order.”

“We need to go to the Fallen city too. If we only have a year, we’ll need to start making progress much more quickly.” Volencia added, “Would you like a glass of wine, anyone?” Venron nodded, but the others declined. “And Samanthia will be the first stop.”

“That’s right.” Damion nodded, standing. “I want access to the swords abilities before we go anywhere else. We’ll keep it as short as possible. Sounds like we’ve a lot to do.” He grabbed a few items from the table. “Is it okay if I take the items that we can travel with? Breads, cheeses, and fruits?”

“Of course. But…” He sat forward, his eyes wide, “You’ve found the Fallen City?”

“We did.” Volencia didn’t go into detail. And Venron seemed to come to an understanding that she didn’t want to get into it right then.

From there, the conversation waned, directing more toward Damion and how the Samanthians faired. Damion even invited Venron to join them. But he declined, worried it wouldn’t be safe until the full curse was removed. Damion filled a bowl with two loaves of bread, a few blocks of cheese, and other items here and there. He looked at them sheepishly. “No one cares if I take all these sweets with me, do they? I know a lot of children who would love to try them.”