Page 66 of King of Serpents

“It is an elder female,” Buosoa interjected.

Elder Goyu? He was surprised but understood that the elderly female would be concerned about the high queen. He hesitated, reluctant to leave his mother’s side when she might waken at any moment. He cast an uncertain look toward her prone figure, and Jathella hummed her understanding softly at his side.

“I will alert you if she awakens,” she assured him.

Therxian inclined his head in thanks and rose. “Very well. I will see her.”

Buosoa bowed, returned to her post, and opened the door for the elder. Elder Goyu entered with her mate, her face expression drawn with concern. She reached back for Waena, and the male took her hand comfortingly for support as she peered over at the prone queen, grief filling her eyes.

“How is she?”

“Not well,” he admitted. “The healer has her stabilized and she should awaken soon, but her condition will only worsen without the correct treatment.”

Elder Goyu turned to him with surprise. “There is nothing that the healer can do?”

He dipped his chin unhappily. “The treatment requires a combination of Uralialian poisons. Who would have access to that in the shinara?”

Waena frowned, his gavo flattening. “There is that one female who was pushed to the edge of the market by locals—”

“Nashee would not carry anything like that,” Elder Goyu refuted. “Although her stock is largely sourced by Uralian growers who have access to prime growing conditions not accessible in our own caverns, she carries culinary spices and herbs to treat common and less common ailments. But she is not one to sell things that could harm anyone. Shinara law is highly restrictive to any Uralial. Even being caught with such things in her possession could potentially be a death sentence.”

“Some of the noble houses certainly do like to take the law into their own hands when it comes to matters involving Uralial,” Waena agreed grimly.

“It seems that the noble houses dare a lot more than I was aware of,” a weak voice commented, drawing their attention back to the high queen as Jathella carefully helped Zathexa sit up. She was pale and haggard with obvious exhaustion, and yet she was still every inch a queen, even in such a private setting. It gave Therxian a new appreciation for his mother’s strength as her gaze slid over them all, revealing nothing. At least, not until it settled onto Elder Goyu and her eyes widened with surprise. “Tutor Gorgona?”

Elder Goyu’s face softened, and she swept by Therxian to take the hand that the high queen extended to her. “You remember this old face, do you, Queen Zathexa?” she gently teased. “My house is undeserving of such recognition.”

Zathexa’s gavo quivered with emotion, her eyes brightening as she smiled at the elderly female. “How could I forget? You were not selected by my mother for your house status, but rather for your powerful rational and disciplined morals that she felt were a necessary aspect of my education. There are few whom I can recount as valuable models of excellence from my youth. It has been many revolutions since I have seen you. Where have you hidden yourself for so long?”

The female gave a wry chuckle, her gavo vibrating with her merriment. “I have been here all along, my queen. But the fifteenth house lacks the prestige to be within the inner circle.”

His mother’s smile fell, and Therxian felt a pang of sympathy for her. For all his resentment in his youth for his intense isolation, it never occurred to him that his mother would have dealt with an enforced isolation despite her great status within the shinara.

“Of course,” she sighed as she withdrew her hand, her expression shifting to a faint smile of regret. “They control everything, do they not?”

Therxian did not miss the bitter note in her voice, nor did Elder Goyu. The female boldly took Zathexa’s hand again and held it firmly between both of hers. “Everything is susceptible to change, my dear queen. Zathexa,” she crooned when his mother looked away. “Come child, I know you have suffered much. You have known countless pains that only a mate who has loved deeply and a mother can know. It is time to make your pain your blade against them. Now is the time to reclaim justice.”

“My hour of redemption has long passed.” Her head bowing with a weight he had never suspected, Zathexa barked a sharp, angry laugh, her chin dipping in denial. Her movements were weakening as what little that remained of her strength began to rapidly fade. “It would have been better if you had just allowed me to die so that I can rejoin my mate awaiting me in the next world. I have nothing more of myself to offer or sacrifice for the shinara. My daughter is dead, and sons have disappeared one by one. I could not bear to lose another, and so what have I done—I have violated the trust and happiness of my remaining two offspring. Slengral is gone and Therxian—”

He set his hand on her gavo, the gesture one of intimate trust that he had not shown his mother since he was a nestling, before he had been sent to the haga. “I am still here, Mother. You have not lost me,” he assured her.

Her face twisted with emotional pain, the depth of her grief worn openly on her face for perhaps the first time in many revolutions. “But I cannot forgive myself for the decisions I made.”

“That you were compelled to make,” he quietly argued, drawing her gaze to him in confusion. He swallowed and ran his hand over the multiple fans of her gavo in a heartfelt motion. “Mother, I understand. The council has been a lurking enemy. They took from you to control you so that you would do anything to safeguard what little you had left. This was the scale they kept since my father’s death, and it is you who preserved my life for so many revolutions.”

She grimaced. “And yet this life I have taken from you. I was content to let my mother-line die. You were safe among the Vehal, and Slengral was beyond the touch of the council. I could join my mate and other children at the end of my life with my regrets but with the knowledge that you would continue on in a life where you were safe and happy. And yet... you returned.” She laughed sadly. “That was a double-bladed velkat to my hearts. A mother’s joy in seeing her son is constrained by the despair of knowing what lay ahead. And what I was forced to orchestrate so that you did not meet the same fate as your brothers.”

He lowered himself on his tail so that he was eye-level with her. “Mother... do you know what happened to my brothers? I could only find records of them entering the haga, and of two leaving as mates, but then nothing further.”

Zathexa’s gavo quivered, and she glanced quickly at Jathella before looking away. “I have never spoken of this to any other, and I forbade your mother to ever speak of it to anyone. She was to guard it under complete secrecy.”

“You know something,” he whispered.

Her chin dipped. “I do not know what happened to them, but I recall how they looked when Nyrana summoned me in the dead of the night from my bed. When they were found, she was reported to, and she silenced each of the guards so that no one would ever know.”

“Silenced,” Kitanara whispered. “Our mother killed guards who served under her?”

His mother dipped her chin with a quiet laugh. “Perhaps that would have been easier, but that was not Nyrana’s way, and it would not have been in accordance with my orders. She relocated them to live peacefully within another shinara with new identities and the means to ensure their comfort for many revolutions.”