The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(44)

Neph nodded in response and gazed silently at the half-built walls that surrounded the skeletal beginnings of the very large city. Several streets near the center of the city were already complete with houses and stores lining each side in neat rows. His eyes lingered on the massive house at the heart of it and he smiled faintly. “Valor’s influence,” he muttered.

Vaze smirked and nodded once. “Jala grumbled about it, but in all honesty it makes the most sense. The people need to see her as a High Lady and they won’t if she is the girl next door. She needs to be pretentious at times, even if she despises it.”

“What is the wall surrounding it? Protection from her own citizens?” Neph asked in amusement as they began walking slowly toward the house.

“The barracks, actually. Valor had them designed in the shape of a shield wall. It curves around the house in a half-moon shape. The northern side belongs to the archers, the southern to the Soulreavers, and the center houses the knights. There is a rather large courtyard in between it and the actual house, but not enough of one to delay her warriors if she has need of them,” Vaze explained.

“And the massive building to the east of the house?” Neph asked, his eyes lingering on the four-story black stone building crowned with spires on each corner. “It looks rather imposing for Jala’s taste. I’d expect to find something like that in Oblivion or Rivana perhaps but not here.

Vaze smirked and shrugged one shoulder at Neph. “Jala didn’t design it. I did,” he replied. “It serves several purposes, actually. It functions as a jail, barracks for the city guard, a council hall for the merchants and guildmasters, but most importantly my home.”

“Your home?” Neph said, staring hard at Vaze in confusion. “I thought you were a council member of the Fionaveir? Shouldn’t you be living in Sanctuary?”

“Retired council member. I promised Symphony I would see her as Empress, and I did.” Vaze shrugged again and waved a hand toward the city. “This is where my focus lies now. This is where my focus always should have been. Jala is my blood-kin. I turned my back on her when she needed me and I regret it more than words can express. Now when she needs me, I will most likely be standing somewhere nearby.”

“And the Fionaveir simply accepted your resignation with complete understanding?” Neph asked dryly. He eyed the man for a moment, his gaze moving from the sleek black armor that Vaze always wore to the four swords crossed on the man’s back, as well as the two that hung from his waist. Vaze was an asset to the Fionaveir. His talents were well known in all of the High Houses and he was easily one of the most feared men alive. Neph found it difficult to believe that the Fionaveir would simply let him walk away so easily.

“Symphony cried. Lutheron blustered. Faramir grew suspicious. And Caspian understood. I didn’t get a chance to see Remedy before I left the city, but I know he would understand as well. The simple fact is, the ones whose opinions I truly value understand my choice, and the ones who didn’t understand are scared of me.”

“I like that philosophy,” Neph murmured with a smile, his eyes moving from street to street as he tried to memorize the lay-out of the city. “She didn’t use the wagon wheel pattern for the streets,” he noted absently. From what he could tell, the basic plan for the city was on grids rather than the concentric circles that most nations favored.

“Ten major roads running east to west and six running north to south. Each road has a name and is clearly marked on each corner,” Vaze explained, his hand rising to point at the neatly painted sign post on the corner of the street they were walking on.

“This comes from her getting lost in Sanctuary so often,” Neph said with a chuckle and nodded. “It’s a good sign that she is taking what is wrong in other cities and correcting it in her own.

Vaze slowed in his steps for a moment and then laughed, shaking his head at Neph. “It’s amusing how you think. It’s just her city she is planning to correct. Wait until after you speak with her this morning, Neph, and then we can have this talk again.” His voice was thick with amusement as he spoke and he simply shook his head at Neph’s questioning look. “Just wait,” he urged with a wide smile and continued toward the house.





*





Neph paused in the doorway and leaned against the door frame. Vaze had directed him toward the kitchen before parting company to attend to his own concerns and Neph expected to find the High Lady directing servants. Instead he found Jala with her hair braided up like a farmer’s wife, elbow-deep in flour. She had replaced her dress from the night before with a black tunic that looked to be about four sizes too large for her. If not for the belt that was holding her faded trousers up Neph had no doubt the tunic would have fallen well below her knees. His eyes trailed down the patched legs of her trousers to her bare feet and he fought back the urge to laugh.

So far she hadn’t noticed him and she was rather amusing to watch. Between her outfit and the flour coating her arms as well as a few splotches on her face she reminded him more of a child at play than the leader of one of the most powerful nations on Sanctuary.

She paused in her labors and snatched a chunk of fruit from one of the bowls. Humming happily to herself, she popped it in her mouth and returned to whatever task she had been attending to. Neph couldn’t truly say what it was that she was doing, beyond making a mess. He had never spared much time for the art of cooking. It had always been easier to buy the food prepared than to worry about its preparation.