“Have you seen Baelic?” he asked as he strode into the palace, encountering me in the Grand Entry.
I blanched, realizing he did not know about his uncle’s death; with everything that had been happening, the terrible truth had not yet been revealed. Before I could form a reply, Cannan walked out of the antechamber, and Steldor redirected his question.
“I haven’t been able to find Baelic,” he repeated, a frown creasing his brow. There was a trace of trepidation in his voice, for it was possible that anyone had died in the fighting, but there was no way he could have been prepared for what Cannan would tell him.
“Steldor, come with me for a moment,” the captain said, reaching for his son’s arm, but his tone was too gentle, too sympathetic, and Steldor, suddenly knowing, jerked away.
“What happened?” the younger man demanded, his breathing picking up. “Where is he? Tell me now!”
His temper was taking over for his fear and dread, but Cannan handled it calmly.
“Just come with me, and I’ll explain everything.” When his son did not look at him, he added, “Steldor, you have to hear this.”
“Don’t tell me he’s dead,” Steldor said, but it came out as a plea. “Don’t tell me that, don’t tell me he’s dead.”
Cannan didn’t answer but put a hand on his son’s back to guide him into his former office. I climbed the Grand Staircase, unable to stay in the entry, hating what Steldor was about to hear, remembering what it had felt like, knowing it would hurt him many times more than it had hurt me. I went all the way to the third floor and stepped into London’s room, moving to sit at his bedside. Halias went into the corridor, thankful for a break.
Sitting with London was almost like being alone, but I could be near him and pretend he was there with me in more than body. The pain no longer tormented him, and he slept more or less peacefully, but still he would not rouse. The High Priestess visited him every day, but there was little more she could do for him. Physically, he seemed to have recovered, but his mind had, thus far, refused to come back. I tried to spend time with him every day as well, and would often read aloud, hoping the sound of my voice might draw him to consciousness.
It was several hours later that a knock on the door disturbed me. I did not answer, knowing that silence in this case was an invitation. I heard the door open, expecting to be joined at London’s bedside, but when the visitor did not come all the way into the room, I turned and glanced behind. After everything I had learned from Destari, my mother and London himself, I perhaps should not have been surprised, but nonetheless I sprang to my feet, mouth open slightly but unable to form words.
“I…I heard he was unwell, Your Highness,” Lady Tanda said, giving a curtsey.
When her eyes came back to mine, I saw in them the end of her thought: I couldn’t go to him the last time. Her husband had died at the Overlord’s hands, a tragedy to be sure, but in its wake she had been released, much as I would have been had Steldor died.
“Forgive me,” she muttered, turning to leave, probably thinking I knew nothing of her history with London.
“Lady Tanda, wait, please.” She stopped, and her soft brown eyes connected with mine. “You should stay with him. I’ve been here long enough—I really must go, and he should not be left alone.”
“No,” she replied, a touch of melancholy in her voice. “I just wanted to find out how he is doing.” She glanced away from me, then finished, “He saved my son’s life, and I cannot expect more of him. I don’t think he would want me to stay.”
“He is not awake.” I stood and approached her, placing a hand upon her arm. “In all this time, he has not awoken. He needs someone, Tanda. Perhaps you are that someone.”
She gazed at me with uncertainty and regret, but there was love for London as well, even after all these years. She nodded, taking the chair at his bedside while I stole into the hall.
It was for her that he finally opened his eyes.
Narian was back on his feet, and the High Priestess appointed him as the official liaison between Cokyri and its new Province of Hytanica. This placed him in Hytanica indefinitely, with occasional trips to the land where he had been raised. In truth, he was ideally suited to the position, since he bore ties of loyalty to both countries, but I knew he had reservations because he had not had a chance to get my opinion on the matter. It would have been awkward for him to do so, however, as the High Priestess had not yet departed for Cokyri and did not know the full extent of his history with me.
I couldn’t help but notice that Narian was rarely to be found within the palace. He had chosen to base himself out of the building formerly used by Marcail, the Master at Arms, another of the officers who had died at the hands of the Overlord. It was possible, of course, that his duties gave him little reason to be at the palace; more likely, he felt his presence at this point in time would be unwelcome.
The work of repairing and rebuilding our city had begun, and I was thankful to have Cannan at my side. With my thoughts and feelings in so much turmoil and a total lack of knowledge about how to run a province, I would otherwise have been a miserable failure. I was content to let him take over much of the work, though I knew he would gradually turn decisions over to me as he guided me toward becoming a leader.
By the end of the month, Narian had taken over command of the Cokyrian troops, paving the way for the High Priestess’s forthcoming departure. He had begun to move out some of the occupying soldiers and would eventually reduce their numbers until his force roughly equaled that of our disbanded City Guard and military. As each soldier left, I felt a tiny weight lift from my mind, as did for the captain, I believed. But while Cannan lauded the troop withdrawal, it remained difficult for him to work with Narian. I doubted that he would ever be able to look at the Cokyrian commander without seeing and remembering the younger brother he had dearly loved and whose life the captain on some level believed Narian should have saved.
London was also up and about. For the time being, he had a need to be outside and physically occupied, and Halias had thus stepped into the role of my bodyguard. Although London’s customary wit had returned along with his energy, he still had a long road to emotional recovery. I would on occasion see him with Lady Tanda and knew she was the person who was doing the most to help him.
It was early April when genuinely good news came at last: Miranna and Temerson were betrothed. My father had wholeheartedly given permission for his seventeen-year-old daughter to marry the young man who had recently turned eighteen and was, therefore, of age to inherit his father’s holdings and title.
It was heartening to see the change this event had on Miranna. With something on which to concentrate, she seemed to find herself once more, though she had been through too much to ever return to the naïve, bouncy girl she had been. Now her personality was more restrained, but if ever she came close to being her previous self, it was when she gazed into Temerson’s eyes or held his hand. Planning for the wedding also gave my mother, Miranna and me a chance to reconnect. My life had become so busy that seeing friends and even family was increasingly problematic, so I rejoiced that we had this time together.
The High Priestess returned to Cokyri two weeks before Miranna’s wedding. Just prior to her departure, she had a meeting with Narian and me in the palace to discuss the status of the province. I could tell from her manner that she suspected Narian’s relationship with me had gone past mere friendship; I could tell from his that he did not want her to know to what extent it had.
In the course of our discussion, Nantilam informed me of my new title, Grand Provost Alera; she also dictated that the Palace of Hytanica be referred to as the Bastion. Finally, she decreed that London once more become my bodyguard, leaving Narian to make the reassignment as soon as feasible after my sister’s wedding. I had the impression she felt this would provide London with the rest he still needed. I also had the impression she did not trust leaving him to his own devices. In any case, it would place him within Narian?
??s purview.
Miranna and Temerson were married on a lovely May afternoon shortly after my nineteenth birthday, when the weather was still fresh and not overly hot. The event was held in the palace garden, which had been restored as much as possible, although it did not have near the splendor of its previous days. Still, just being in my once-treasured sanctuary was a boon to my spirits, as well as to those of everyone else in attendance.
My parents gave Miranna away, and I stood in as her lady-in-waiting. Lady Tanda and one of Temerson’s uncles stood with the groom, and his younger brother served as best man. The ceremony was simple but beautiful and helped to reaffirm that life was moving forward.
After a dinner in the King’s Dining Hall on the second floor of the palace, the blissfully wedded couple and their guests adjourned to the Royal Ballroom to continue the revelry. The party would go well into the evening, for entertainment was plentiful, wine was flowing and the dancing of the guests was more than congratulatory. This marked the first celebration since the Cokyrian siege, and though many lives were still in shambles, hope ran high with the knowledge that we had been given the opportunity to pick up the pieces.
As I walked around the ballroom, I saw Galen and Tiersia in each other’s arms on the dance floor; my parents conversing with Baron Koranis and Baroness Alantonya, Narian’s birth parents, with whom he hoped to forge some sort of relationship; Cannan and Faramay with Baelic’s wife, Lania, and their oldest daughters; and a group of my friends that included Reveina and Kalem, both widowed by the war, and Galen’s twin sisters, Niani and Nadeja. One person was noticeably absent, however, as London was not among the guests. While that seemed odd, I wondered if he had stayed away because he did not know if, or how, he fit into Temerson’s family and wanted to avoid any awkwardness for Lady Tanda.
Almost by reflex, I cast about for Steldor, expecting to find him alone. I should have known he would be surrounded by fathers and their daughters, for word had spread fast after the annulment of our marriage, and he was once more the most sought after young man in the land. In previous years, he would have been flirting incorrigibly; now, however, I was surprised to find his eyes on me. He smirked and shook his head, and I laughed aloud, though the people around me could not have said what was funny. In many ways, life was returning to a state of welcome normalcy, but I still felt something was missing.
After a time, the room grew stuffy, and the open balcony doors beckoned, promising a welcome breeze. I crossed the ballroom and stepped out into the gathering twilight, not startled as I had once been to discover I was not alone. Narian was leaning back upon the railing, his hands resting on either side of him on the dark wood, his mesmerizing blue eyes fixed on me.
“Good evening, Lord Narian,” I said politely, walking up beside him to look out over the city, my pulse rate quickening.
“Good evening, Grand Provost Alera,” he replied with a slight smirk, inclining his head. He turned toward me, continuing to rest a forearm on the railing.
“Avoiding the crowds?” he asked, repeating the words of the first conversation we’d had on this very balcony.
“Perhaps,” I responded with a smile, pleased that he remembered that night as clearly as did I. “And you?”
“I could not refuse your sister’s invitation when I received it,” he responded, his eyes seeming to burn right through me. “It was generous of her. But I do not think the Hytanican people are ready to embrace me. In truth, I cannot expect that.”
“I cannot speak for the people,” I lightly replied, my heart warming in anticipation of his reaction. “Only for myself.”
The smirk once more fleetingly appeared, then he looked away from me toward the pinpricks of light cast by the lanterns in the city.
“I have been told your marriage has been annulled,” he stated, his voice steady and unrevealing.
“Steldor was not the man I desired to marry,” I murmured, willing him to understand how my heart had ached for him throughout everything that had happened.
He did not move but continued to stare into the darkness, his thoughts indeterminable. Releasing his breath, he finally returned his gaze to me.
“I am no longer that same man.”
“And I am no longer the same woman.”
“So where does that leave us?”
I reached out and put my hand upon his, twining our fingers, inviting the touch I knew he was not sure he ought to extend.
“Perhaps with a chance to start anew,” I offered, fighting the tremor in my voice that evidenced my emotions.
“I would like that, Alera,” he said, continuing to hold my hand despite the sadness and regret lurking behind his words. Then he straightened, coming to his full height as if preparing to leave. At my confused expression, he explained, “You should take time to make certain of what you want. I will be here, if and when you seek my company.”
“I have long been certain of what I want,” I almost breathlessly assured him.
He reached out to touch my cheek, and I searched his deep blue eyes, finding the love I had always known was there. Needing no further invitation, I moved forward into his embrace, nestling against his muscular chest, his earthy scent of leather and pine and cedar enveloping me. He held me close, then lifted my chin to kiss me, causing warmth to spread through me for the first time in months and confirming what I had long suspected: that in his arms, I was finally home.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My heartfelt thanks to everyone who lent a hand in bringing Allegiance to life:
Mom, Cara and Kendra for being the weirdest, most amazing family anyone could wish for.
Everyone at HarlequinTEEN, in particular my editor, Natashya Wilson, for her invaluable making-book-better skills, and Lisa Wray for her continued efforts to connect me with the rest of the human race. Everyone at HQT is an absolute joy and I wouldn’t be where I am without you!
My agent Kevan Lyon for her fabulous work and for making me believe in myself.
My foreign-rights agent Taryn Fagerness for conquering the world.
And finally, thanks to anyone who’s reading. You have the power to change the world—you’ve definitely changed mine.
Until next time,
Cayla Kluver
Q & A WITH CAYLA KLUVER
Q: Please tell us a little about yourself and your interests apart from writing.
A: I’m from Wisconsin, where breweries and dairy farming dominate, although my family owns horses rather than cows. I love horseback riding, reading, singing and—if I’m being honest—video games. When I got my hands on “Mass Effect 2,” I stayed up for two days straight to play it through.
Aside from those hobbies, I love working with kids, particularly kids who are trying to follow their dreams or are coming out of broken homes. There is so much strength to be found in young people, and it’s inspirational. Sometimes all they need is a hand or a word of encouragement in order to take on the whole world, and being able to provide even a small amount of support to people in those situations is a gift.
Q: Legacy has a long publication history worldwide. What has the journey been like for you?
A: Legacy has traveled more places than I have—while my book has gone to Japan, South America, Greece, Turkey and all over Europe, I’ve pretty much stayed in Wisconsin. I think because of that, the reality of how widely Legacy is being read hasn’t hit me. Intellectually I know that what’s been happening is huge, but emotionally I still feel like a small-town girl. This reaction might just be part of who I am though—my mom told me one day that she thought she was having a heart attack, so I nodded, got the keys and suggested we go to the emergency room. I tend to handle important things very understatedly, but scream and cry when Amazon delivers a season of Law & Order late.
Q: You have strong insight into how people act under pressure. Who or what inspires you to create the characters in your books?
A: My characters who handle pressure well are definitely inspired by my mom. She’s a lawyer
and she’s always cool-headed and in charge. She’s the kind of frustrating person against whom you can never win an argument because she never loses her temper. She’s the strongest person I know. On the flip side, my dad is a massive worrywart (sorry, Dad). Together my parents comprise the entire spectrum of human reaction. They’re polar opposites, and for the purpose of my writing I can sort of stroll between them for whatever personality I need.
Q: Why did you choose to write in a historical fantasy world?
A: I love history—the different styles of dress and speech, how people lived, the culture. But what I wanted for this series wasn’t straight historical fiction. I wanted to create my own kingdoms and conflicts. Mythology and magic, while not highly prevalent in the Legacy Trilogy are still important to the arc of the story, and incorporating these themes into a fantasy novel was a lot more comfortable for me.
Another huge reason I chose a historical fantasy setting was that I wanted the opportunity to construct a major dichotomy between two kingdoms—one dominated by men and one dominated by women. A secondary goal of the series is to illustrate that neither society is ideal—equality is what we should strive for.
Q: Your setting and attention to detail are part of what bring Alera’s world to life. What kind of research did you do while writing the books?
A: I did a lot of research online about medieval European history; I also hit the bookstore and collected dozens of history-related books that are now highlighted and dog-eared through and through. Because the series is first and foremost a fantasy, I did my research as I went along. I could pick and choose what aspects I wanted to be a part of Alera’s life, which gave me the freedom to create a world I really enjoyed writing about. Legacy was like the most exhilarating research paper I’ve ever written.