A Dream on Winds of Change: The World of Edhun, #1

By ST Artecona

Lady Janely of Choix is in shock. She's twenty-three years old, far from home for the first time in her life, and her father is dead. To make matter's worse, her uncle has informed her she's soon to be married off to the odious Paterfamilias Ruch. Will a sudden naval attack by the mysterious and infamous Virago of the Anatolls make Lady Janely's situation better or worse? Only time will tell...

Woman loving woman queer romance with a high-fantasy nautical spin! Warning: not for minors as things will get steamy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: ST Artecona
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223069331

ST Artecona

ST Artecona is an intensive reading tutor for dyslexic children and adults by day and a creative writer by night. They were born and raised in the sun and swamp of South Florida and now live with their girlfriend and small pack of dogs.

Book preview

For my parents and for Sarah, without whom this would not be possible. All my love, ST.

1

Janely’s brother Jonyu stood before the prow; one hand on his sword hilt, the other holding the looking glass up to his eye. He scanned their surroundings thoroughly, meticulously, and constantly. Her uncle, Falkin, walked the galley, hastening the oarsmen. Neither of them had wanted to take the shortcut through the Anatolls, but Jonyu was desperate to arrive home in time to complete Father’s funeral rites himself, and Falkin had yielded as he usually did. 

The Anatolls of Edhun was a dreadful place. Sunlight could barely penetrate the dense canopy formed by the gargantuan ironwood trees that dominated the area – each adult specimen being as thick around as fifty men – and where it did, it only served to highlight the green-black waters that flooded the area for most of the year, when Little Sister River grew gravid from snow melt and overflowed from her riverbed. The brackish water stunk of decaying matter and played host to river monsters and swarms of blood-sucking insects alike. 

Janely had not been asked for her opinion, nor had she one to offer. 

Why don’t you rest, Alma? Janely said for the fourth time that morning to the woman who had been charged with fanning her.

Alma shook her head. If I stop, the mosquitoes will descend, miss. 

How to explain that Janely would gladly jump into a swarm of insects if it meant she’d have one blessed minute alone. I wish to stretch my legs and walk the length of the barge. I doubt the insects will prove troublesome if I move quickly, Janely offered. 

Alma’s arms faltered. Please, miss. Lord Jonyu will have my head should your complexion become sun-darkened or marred by bug bites. There was true fear in her eyes. 

Janely closed her eyes and nodded. Her brother wouldn’t kill someone for something so minor, but Jonyu was mad with grief and desperation, and it would take little to rouse his anger. He may very well take umbrage with Alma, if only to vent his spleen. 

Falkin approached then, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as if he had accomplished some great labor instead of shouting ineffectually at the oarsmen. He took the seat across from Janely, close enough to catch the breeze that Alma was generating. 

Damned humid here, isn’t it? he said conversationally as he fished his flask out of his pocket. Not hot, but muggy.

Janely hummed. She couldn’t find it in herself to care about the weather. Uncle. What exactly awaits us at Caer Choix? I have been told naught except that Father was dead. 

That was not to say that Janely hadn’t heard rumors. The news, if true, was too shocking to keep quiet.

Ah, well, Falkin hedged, drinking deeply from his flask. Your father is dead. I imagine you’ll find Caer Choix to be preparing itself for the funeral and for Jonyu’s ascension.   

No doubt. But how did he die? Father had not been sickly, but accidents happened every day. If, however, he had simply been thrown from his horse or eaten spoiled meat, why had Janely not expressly been told so? 

Let’s not discuss this, Falkin said with a bright, fake smile. Such a young, pretty girl should not have to worry about the details of such sad affairs.

Janely was, in fact, a score and three years old. 

Is it a secret? she asked, keeping her voice mild through strength of will. Falkin did not react well to strong displays of emotion from women.

No, nothing like that, he chuckled nervously.

Ah. Is it not likely, then, that someone will mention the matter in my hearing at some point? Would it not be best for me to be prepared? 

Falkin frowned. No one would speak of such a shameful thing in the hearing of women.

Ah. So Father had killed himself, then. 

Janely searched herself for shock, only to find none, only the same numb grief and dull resignation that had filled her since she’d first heard the news of his death. She had known things were bad in a nebulous way from her father and brother’s expressions and snatches of information she’d gleaned by listening at doors. Then Father had sent them to go visit their mother’s father in Hoguera, and Janely had hoped that things would improve in their absence. 

Obviously, she had hoped in vain. 

Awkward silence punctuated only by the buzzing of mosquitoes reigned for a moment before Falkin spoke again. You are acquainted with Lord Ruch, of course.

Janely startled at the non-sequitur. Yes, of course. He and Father were... they were close, I believe. In business.

Falkin nodded. Close, yes! Good friends all their lives. A grand man, isn’t he?

Lord Ruch? Janely asked, growing more bewildered by the second. He is a Paterfamilias. His family has always been quite influential. It was the most positive thing she could say about the man. 

Janely’s dislike of him stemmed from when she was a small girl and she’d seen how her mother grew stiff and careful whenever he visited. There was nothing in his manner that suggested that her mother’s caution had been inappropriate. As she grew older, Janely had noticed how Lord Ruch’s attendants all but quailed before him, and that he did not seem to retain personal servants for long. 

More chillingly, Janely had met three of his wives, and she had seen how, one after the other, he had slowly drained them of vitality and, ultimately, life. The first Lady Ruch had died in childbed, it was said, but the latter two... Janely fully believed that Lord Ruch had killed at least one with his own hands.

Yes! Falkin’s smile grew a touch wider. Yes, I’m glad you understand that. You’ve always been very clever, Janely. Your brother has just inherited a great burden, and it is your duty as his sister to aid him however you can.

Fear shot through Janely’s veins, chasing away the numbing haze of grief and coiling sickly in her stomach.

Falkin stood, pocketing his flask. I’m glad we were able to speak so, but I should go and look in on the crew. These men will slack off if one doesn’t keep a keen eye out. With that, he ambled away. 

Janely shook off her shock and panic. 

I must speak with my brother, Janely said. She did not wait for a response before striding off. 

Jonyu barely acknowledged her when she approached. She did not let that faze her. 

Have you agreed, negotiated, or spoken to Paterfamilias Ruch regarding a betrothal between him and myself? 

Jonyu lowered the looking glass from his eye and breathed out, hard, through his nose. Falkin couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than two days?

I won’t do it! Her voice was shrill. Hysterical. 

Jonyu set his jaw. You will do it, because you have no choice, his voice was level. Firm yet calm. "You are not