The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4)(2)

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Laughter echoed down the hall behind him as Neph made his way slowly toward his father’s door. He paused at the sound and considered turning back to the main hall to join the others in drinks. With a heavy sigh he shook his head and placed a hand on the cold stone of the door and pushed it gently open. “Father, I need to speak with you,” Neph said in a voice just loud enough to carry to the next rooms as he stepped inside. As he had expected, the sitting room was empty. His gaze turned automatically to the door of his father’s prayer room as it opened.

“About what?” RenDelvayon demanded, his expression filled with warning. His father was a large man, towering over his children in height and strength.

Bowing his head with respect Neph inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. Nothing he had to say would please his father. “About Zyi, Father. She isn’t ready for the trial and honestly, I don’t think she ever will be,” Neph began in a steady voice. His father despised weakness above all else. Now was not the time to show nerves.

“She is my child. She will face the trial.” His father’s words were spoken in a low voice that suggested the topic was settled.

“Father, you have Kadan and me. Do you really need Zyi to pass the trial too? Send her to the Academy instead, please,” Neph pressed. His eyes searched his father’s face for any sign of mercy and found none.

“All Delvay face the trial. Zyi will as well. She carries my name. Do you expect me to let weakness grow in my family?” Ren demanded, his eyes narrow.

“Would you rather see her die, Father? There is a very good chance that will happen.” Neph’s voice cracked with his frustration and his father’s eyes narrowed further.

“Yes, I would rather see her die than bring weakness to our family. This discussion is over, Neph.” His father glared at him daring him to open his mouth again.

Neph shifted his feet and struggled to fight back the words he knew he would regret. He could feel his temper rising and knew if he didn’t leave he would regret it. No one spoke back to High Lord RenDelvayon, least of all his children. “As you say, Father,” Neph said softly through clenched teeth.

His gaze moved to the painting on the mantle as he turned back to the door. It was the only artwork in the room, and the only image of his mother left remaining in Delvay. He felt his temper cool as memories of her surfaced. They were bittersweet to be sure. Part of him hated her, and yet he could remember how she had treated them. His mother had been strong, kind, and as stubborn as stone. She might have been able to speak on Zyi’s behalf. His father might have listened to her. At the very least, RenDelvayon would have let her speak her mind fully, which was more than he was doing for his son. Pausing with his hand on the door, Neph glanced back at his father. “Not everyone is born for war, Father. Zyi’s calling could be something greater than either of us guess. She could be a healer, or a scholar, or so many other things. Please just give her a chance. Exile her and take the family name from her if she shames you, but don’t force her to do something she isn’t capable of doing, please.” Neph spoke the words softly and didn’t bother waiting for a response. There was little point to it. Mercy wasn’t a word found in the Delvay language, even when dealing with their children.

More laughter erupted from the main hall, but the thought of drinking and laughter no longer appealed to him at all. Turning slowly, Neph headed for the stairs and his own rooms. Tomorrow would be a disaster and he knew it. Zyi had left the courtyard with bruises lacing both of her arms and very little sign of improvement to her defense. No matter how many times he had worked with her on spells or blades, she never improved. Her heart simply wasn’t in it. His steps paused as he neared her door. He could still see the glow of candlelight from beneath the door, but there was no sound from within. Without bothering to knock, he pushed the door lightly and leaned on the door frame to look inside.

Zyi was seated under the window, her back pressed against the dark stone wall with a snow cat kitten curled in her lap. Her eyes were bloodshot and dried tears streaked her face. Looking up at him, she smiled weakly and waved him in.

“I tried to talk to him,” Neph offered softly as he stepped inside the room. His eyes roved over the colorful paintings and tapestries that filled the small room and he smiled faintly. Every other part of the Delvay keep was somber and dark. Zyi’s room, however, was as bright and cheerful as a sun-filled meadow.