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  Harrowed Heir

  ~A Court of Mystery Novel~

  Sarah E. Burr

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Burr

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2020

  www.saraheburr.com

  Other books by Sarah E. Burr

  The Court of Mystery series

  The Ducal Detective Mysteries

  Paradise Plagued

  Burdened Bloodline

  Sovereign Sieged

  Crown of Chaos

  Harrowed Heir

  Realm of Virtues Short Stories

  Mark of Mettle

  Blessed Bounty

  Welcome to the Realm of Virtues…

  Centuries ago, priests of the Ancient Faith lorded over the continent, building their empires on fear and greed. Poverty and sickness ravaged the world, forcing a faction of rebels to rise and overthrow these tyrants preaching in the name of silent gods. The leaders of this movement, known in the annals of history as the Rebirth, proclaimed the realm would no longer answer to nameless demons and gods, but to the virtues of bravery, humility, kindness, and intelligence. Sealing their pact, these newly anointed leaders drank the dew of the fabled kingsleaf flower, marking them and their offspring forever as destined rulers of the realm with their royal eyes. Under their care and guidance, the dukedoms flourished for over five hundred years. Now, greed and oppression have seeped back into the Realm of Virtues, as the ruling dukes and duchesses of each region lust for more and more power. Fearing the duchies were going the way of the all-but-extinct Ancient Faith, Duchess Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, the self-appointed protector of the realm and ruler of Saphire, has put a plan into motion to secure the freedom and prosperity of the world, despite growing opposition to her cause.

  Contents

  Principal Characters

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgements

  Note from the Author

  Principal Characters

  Duchess Jacqueline Arienta Xavier – our heroine, “Jax”

  Duke Percival “Perry” Pettraud – Jax’s husband

  George Solomon – Captain of the Saphire Ducal Guard

  Ziri Axesinger – an Acolyte of the Knights of Grace

  Carriena Lucia Brunovaris – Jax’s school friend

  Ashcroft Carthington – Leader of the Praesidio

  Gregorio Ezarath – Headmaster of the Academy

  Gautherd – Head Archivist

  Kareem Daghir – Deputy Headmaster

  Casimeer – Professor of Ancestry

  Rowan Lotus – Professor of Herbology

  Vera Nightingale – Professor of Political Studies

  Yokudran – Professor of Physician Studies

  Uma Dorrow – Jax’s lady-in-waiting

  Sabine Arceneaux – Jax’s lady’s maid

  Chapter One

  A knock on the door interrupted Duchess Jacqueline Arienta Xavier’s trance, forcing her to look up from the stack of papers she’d been attempting to sort before her departure. “Yes?”

  The sharp click of the latch preceded the appearance of the Captain of the Saphire Ducal Guard, clad in his repaired armor.

  The pulsing tension in her shoulders dissipated as Jax’s amethyst gaze settled on her oldest friend. His wounds had all but healed, much to her relief, but the ghosts of the bloody battle he’d fought barely more than a fortnight ago still haunted his warm, chocolate eyes. She ached for her friend, wishing she could relieve him of the survivor’s guilt that weighed his weary soul, but alas, it was not within her power. Only time could mend those wounds.

  “Is everything all right?” She wrinkled her nose at his somber expression. “I thought I still had a few more hours of peace before we depart?”

  George Solomon broke into a mischievous grin. “There’s someone here to see you, Your Grace,” he replied with feigned formality. “Waiting for you in the courtyard.”

  With an annoyed sigh, she motioned to the heaping pile of papers strewn across her makeshift workspace. “Can they wait? I must at least try to make a dent in these reports before we leave this afternoon.”

  George folded his muscular arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I think it might lift your spirits a bit to come greet our newest arrival.”

  His coy attitude piqued her interest. “I suppose I could do with a bit of a distraction.” She rose from the rather uncomfortable chair and stretched. “Although, I’d be lying if I said I’d spent the entire morning locked away in here, completely focused.”

  A flutter of concern danced across George’s chiseled features. “You’re working yourself too hard, Jax. Master Holton said you needed to take it easy.” His eyes lingered on Jax’s forehead.

  Instinctively, her fingers flew to the jagged scar etched into the tender skin above her right eyebrow, snaking its way up to and then under her hairline. Master Holton, the head physician overseeing all the wounded at Fort Uhstal, had assured her that the ghastly mark would heal in due time, as long as she continued to apply a balm of angelwheat and priestswood to the scar daily.

  “Honestly, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Jax shrugged off George’s concern as she proceeded to move past him in the doorway.

  He reached for her, his fingers gripping her forearm with a firm, but tender touch. “Jax,” he said, his voice a low, heavy whisper, “you could have died.”

  She trembled at the anguish lacing his words, as if the mere thought of her perishing would undo him. She turned and met his intense stare, her own amethyst eyes fierce and full of sorrow. “So could you, but no one is reprimanding you for continuing to do your duty,” she responded with her usual defiance.

  Sighing, George released his grip. This was an argument they’d had a hundred times in the last two-and-a-half weeks. “Considering the entire purpose of my role is to keep you alive, you can’t fault me for begging you to take it easy.”

  She swallowed a bit of her pride and in turn, rested the palm of her hand on George’s cheek, the dark stubble of his unshaven face scratching her skin. “I know you’re only trying to protect me, but believe me when I tell you that I am all right. Master Holton has given me a clean bill of health for our journey south. I wouldn’t put myself at risk, knowing what’s at stake. Too many people gave their lives for me to get here. I won’t let their sacrifices be in vain.” As her words trailed off, Jax’s heart constricted, thrumming against her chest. Her grief over Captain Ivan Pettraud was still fresh. Despite only knowing her brother-in-law a short while, she’d come to care for him as if he were her own blood, and the thought that she’d never again see his radiant smile nor hear his hearty laughter at one of his own silly jokes pained her to her core.

  George had stilled under her touch, only relaxing when she returned her hand back to her side. “I’m no
t so convinced Master Holton is the skilled healer he’s claimed to be if he’s allowing both you and Perry to leave Fort Uhstal so soon.”

  The mention of her husband made Jax’s stomach flip, anxiety rushing through her. “I’m inclined to agree with your assessment, but I’m not so sure it would have made a difference if Master Holton had declared Perry unfit to travel. He’s made up his mind to escort Ivan’s body home to Pettraud and initiate the proper burial rites, despite my concerns.”

  George’s brow furrowed, but there was a look of bemusement tinging his features.

  “What?” Jax demanded with a snap.

  A light chuckle floated from George’s lips. “Can you hear yourself? At least you know now what it’s like to be in my shoes.”

  Jax opened her mouth to protest, but stopped short, realizing that her refusal to take it easy mirrored Perry’s own stubbornness. “Well,” she said, trying to save face, “I only suffered a bump on the head. Perry was gutted by an arrow.”

  “No need to remind me.”

  Jax immediately regretted her cavalier statement, as George had been on the bloody battlefield himself and had been the one to find Perry with a bolt sticking out of his abdomen. In the sea of pandemonium, he had managed to get her husband the aid he needed to survive. George had also whisked her away to safety as well, saving her from being trampled by the chaos.

  He lifted his left hand, his fingers tucking a strand of loose caramel hair back behind Jax’s ear, away from her scar. “And it wasn’t just a bump. Master Holton said if you’d been hit just a fraction below where you were, it would have spelled instant death.”

  Jax shuddered, although she wasn’t so sure it was due to the bleak nature of George’s words. His fingers felt so warm and comforting as they traced along her temple, just inches from her wound. A small part of her longed for them to linger there, yet her devotion to Perry pushed the traitorous thought aside. “Instead, I survived the harrowing ordeal only to look like some hideous monster out of a children’s nightmare.” Her throat was suddenly dry, her joke sounding more strained than she intended it.

  George seemed to sense that she needed to make light of the subject in order to deal with everything that had transpired in recent weeks. He gave her a soft smile. “A terrifying spectacle, indeed. The Hestian court will take one look at you and abandon the continent.”

  “We can only hope it will be that easy.” With one last wistful glance at the quiet, makeshift study in which she had secluded herself all morning, she shook her head and focused on the matter at hand. “Where is this new arrival you insist I must see?”

  Clearly ready to put tenuous topics aside for now, George’s boyish grin returned. “The courtyard. Come, I’ll show you the way.”

  Glad to have George as her escort, Jax threaded her arm through his and let him lead her through a myriad of stone corridors and stairwells. Despite having been in residence at Fort Uhstal for over two weeks now, Jax had spent much of her time in her quarters recovering, which hadn’t allowed her the opportunity to explore the old Cetachi fortress and gain a sense of her surroundings. Only four days ago had she been permitted by Master Holton to leave her chambers for more than an hour at a time, and in that time she’d had much more urgent matters to attend to than exploring the ancient military fort.

  “Have you had any word from your commanders leading the funeral processions?

  George nodded. “So far, the delegations have been undisturbed. At least our enemy has shown the realm some bit of deference during its time of mourning.”

  Jax sent a silent prayer to the Virtues that their luck would continue. After the battle against the Coalition of Right, George had had the foresight to collect the bodies of every sovereign slain, even their enemies, allowing Jax to send them home for interment. The bodies of Henrik Crepsta, Waylon Beautraud, Florian Hestes, Katalina Zaltor, Delphinia Tandora, and Amyra Kwatalar were en route to their homelands, under the protection of Saphire’s seasoned soldiers.

  Her first act after being released from Master Holton’s care had been to oversee the departure of the funeral caravans. Although she’d known since awakening from her injuries about the lives lost, the sight of the deceased sovereigns still stunned her. She mourned the losses of her allies, as well as her adversaries. But her grief was fueled by more than just personal loss. Their deaths had thrown the Realm of Virtues into structural chaos, a problem that was now left to her to resolve.

  “Any word about—”

  George answered before she even had time to speak the devil’s name. “No. But our spies are scouring the continent. He may be a slippery demon, but he cannot hide forever. We will find Savant, of that I can promise you.”

  Jax wished she shared George’s determined optimism, more for his sake than her own. During the attack, George had managed to wound Qylvard Savant, the maniacal leader of the Coalition of Right and Jax’s main opposition. Yet, the man had evaded their grasp under the protection of a handful of his personal guard. While most of the Coalition’s forces had either been killed or imprisoned by Saphire and her allies, Jax knew George blamed himself for Qylvard’s escape, as he chose to rescue Perry instead of going after the injured leader.

  His actions saved my husband’s life. Jax examined her friend carefully, wishing above all else she could command George to forgive himself over his role in Qylvard’s escape. Unfortunately, things were never that simple. She knew the only way for George to alleviate his guilt would be to apprehend Savant. Until that moment, she pledged to do whatever she could to aid her friend in reaching his goal.

  The grin resurfaced on George’s face as he opened a side door leading out to the snowy courtyard. When Jax had come north for the War Council at the start of the year, she had expected her surroundings to mirror the wintry landscape she now saw. Instead, the War Council had been hosted at Fort Vyndheim, which had been built hundreds of years ago in the middle of a volcanic desert. Despite the jagged frost that covered the trees and plants in Fort Uhstal’s courtyard, it was a relief to see signs of life.

  What important visitor would deem it appropriate to wait out in the snow? Jax’s keen vision scanned the courtyard, her heart vaulting to her throat when she spotted the new arrival.

  “Mortimer!”

  Squealing, Jax darted from George’s side and ran across the powdery snow toward the midnight black stallion grazing on a pile of hay.

  The majestic animal lifted his head, ears twitching in recognition of her melodic voice.

  She threw her arms around the beast’s neck and buried her face in his long, ebony mane. “I thought I’d never see you again, old friend.”

  During the Coalition’s raid, Jax and George had both been tossed from Mortimer’s back after narrowly dodging a volley of arrows launched by enemy forces. A frightened Mortimer had fled the battlefield, and Jax thought her beloved steed was lost forever.

  “We found him nickering at the gate this morning.” George appeared at her side, giving the horse a fond pat.

  Jax wiped a stray tear from her eye. Mortimer had been a birthday present to her long ago from the late Duke Henrik Crepsta, a man who had been a selfless leader and a true friend to Saphire. “Mortimer’s return feels like a sign. As though Henrik is here with us in spirit as we embark on the journey ahead.”

  George folded his arms across his chest plate. “Are you really ready for what lies outside these walls, Jax? Perhaps another week would be bett—”

  Jax held up a silencing hand. “All the rest in the world won’t truly prepare me for what’s to come. But regardless, I must face the reality that I am now sovereign of five duchies in the realm. I cannot afford to lose any more time than I already have.”

  George reached for the back of his neck, his focus dropping to the snow-covered ground. “So, I take it you haven’t changed your mind about accompanying Perry to Pettraud for Ivan’s burial?”

  Her stomach knotted with guilt. As much as she wanted to be by her husband’s side to support
him through this grief, her station did not afford that luxury. The lengthy Pettraudian burial rites that Perry had described to her would eat away at precious time she did not have. She was desperately needed in the Duchies of Hestes, Kwatalar, and Crepsta, to claim her right to their vacant thrones and set the wheels of change into motion. “No, I haven’t. But I haven’t told him yet, either,” she whispered, her cheeks warming with shame.

  “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  George’s words did little to comfort her. In fact, she’d been avoiding her husband for most of the morning, not wanting to disappoint him after all the pain he had, and continued, to endure. Perry was set to depart Fort Uhstal for Pettraud that afternoon. She and George had made arrangements for her delegation to travel with him for as long as possible, but their paths would deviate once they reached the Pettraudian border.

  “But…” George glanced across the courtyard, a sheepish blush on his cheeks. “May I advise you to tell him sooner rather than later? He’s bound to get wind of your departure, even from the confines of the infirmary.”

  Jax smiled gently at her friend. His concern for her and Perry’s wellbeing never ceased to amaze her. After learning George still harbored deep feelings for her, feelings she’d once strongly shared with the handsome guardsman, she often wondered how George had the strength to see the woman he loved in the arms of another man.

  “There you two are,” a velvety voice purred from the shadows of the keep. “I just received a report from Prelate Brath and thought you’d be interested in the latest news from the Knights’ enclave.”

  The lithe, but powerful form of Ziri Axesinger emerged into the golden sunlight. The former Knight of Grace wore her black sparring clothes, with two thin, dangerous blades strapped across her back. She must have just come from the fort’s training grounds.