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  The Lost Princess Returns

  Uncharted Realms – Book 6

  by

  Jeffe Kennedy

  A Broken Girl… An Avenging Warrior

  More than two decades have gone by since Imperial Princess Jenna, broken in heart and body, fled her brutal marriage—and the land of her birth. She’s since become Ivariel: warrior, priestess of Danu, trainer of elephants, wife and mother. Wiser, stronger, happier, Ivariel has been content to live in her new country, to rest her battered self, and to recover from the trauma of what happened to her when she was barely more than a girl.

  But magic has returned to the world—abruptly and with frightening force—and Ivariel takes that profound change as a sign that it’s time to keep a promise she made to the sisters she left behind. Ivariel must leave the safety she’s found and return to face the horrors she fled.

  As Ivariel emerges from hiding, she discovers that her vicious brother is now Emperor of Dasnaria, and her much-hated mother, the Dowager Empress Hulda, is aiding him in his reign of terror. Worse, it seems that Hulda’s resurrection of the tainted god Deyrr came about as a direct result of Jenna’s flight long ago.

  It’s up to Ivariel—and the girl she stopped being long ago—to defeat the people who cruelly betrayed her, and to finally liberate her sisters. Determined to cleanse her homeland of the evil that nearly destroyed her, Ivariel at last returns to face the past.

  But this time, she’ll do it on her own terms.

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to Ellie Topitzer, whose comment on Facebook reminded me of Jepp’s “prophecy” in The Edge of the Blade. That brought together a bunch of threads that needed tying, with perfect serendipity.

  As always, thanks to fantastic assistant Carien, for happily reading as soon as I send, and for emergency everything. Much gratitude to Evergreen Lee for proofreading and more! Love to Kelly Robson, who asked about The Lost Princess every day, and to Grace Draven, for wisdom and common sense.

  To many readers who have loved Ivariel’s story and demanded more, many thanks for your gentle persistence and enthusiastic cheering. You all were right: it totally needed to be written.

  Ecstatic hand flailing to Ravven for yet another incredible cover. You exactly captured Jenna as grown-up Ivariel. Seriously—looking at this image gives a visceral thrill.

  Many thanks to my family, my wonderful friends, and the larger writing community.

  Love to David, first, last, and always.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jennifer M. Kennedy

  EPUB Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or business establishments, organizations or locales is completely coincidental.

  Thank you for reading!

  Credits

  Line and Copy Editor: Evergreen Lee

  Cover: Ravven, ravven.com.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About the Book

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright Page

  Maps

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Titles by Jeffe Kennedy

  About Jeffe Kennedy

  The Lost Princess Returns

  by Jeffe Kennedy

  Dear Reader,

  The Lost Princess Returns brings together a plot thread that ran through three separate, but (obviously) intertwined stories.

  Harlan first appears in The Talon of the Hawk, book three of The Twelve Kingdoms trilogy. Jepp also first appears in that book. That trilogy also introduced characters that appear in this book: Ursula, Andi, Rayfe, and Dafne.

  The Pages of the Mind, which kicks off The Uncharted Realms series, is Dafne’s story, and introduces Kral, Nakoa and Akamai—whose tale is at last tied off here, though not fully told. In book two of The Uncharted Realms, The Edge of the Blade, Jepp goes to Dasnaria, meets Inga and Helva, among others, and first learns Jenna’s story. A great deal of The Lost Princess Returns owes itself to seeds planted in The Edge of the Blade. The Uncharted Realms continued with Zynda’s book, The Shift of the Tide, and Karyn’s book, The Arrows of the Heart, and culminated in the climactic battle told in The Fate of the Tala. There’s also a novella, The Dragons of Summer, that takes place between The Arrows of the Heart and The Fate of the Tala that adds some bits of Jenna/Ivariel’s story.

  The Chronicles of Dasnaria trilogy goes back twenty(ish) years in the past, to tell of Jenna’s disastrous first marriage (Prisoner of the Crown), her journey to escape and how she becomes Ivariel (Exile of the Seas), and her eventual healing (Warrior of the World).

  So, though we’ve listed The Lost Princess Returns as part of The Uncharted Realms, in many ways it’s also the climactic book of The Chronicles of Dasnaria.

  A complicated web, I know…

  Thanks so much for reading!

  ~ 1 ~

  I grew up in paradise.

  Or, so I was led to believe.

  I’ve since learned how much of that was a lie. In truth, I’d grown up in a place as carefully groomed to look pretty as I had been—but it was a festering pit of deceit, manipulation and despair. Studded with jewels, padded with silk-covered pillows, and liberally dusted with a colorful candy shell, my home had been a glorified cage. Not a day has passed that I haven’t offered up gratitude for my escape: to the goddess Danu for guiding my steps, to the warrior priestess Kaja who taught me how to survive, and to my brother Harlan who gave up everything to set me free.

  Not a day has passed that I didn’t recognize that I owed my sanity, likely my very life, to the fact that I escaped Dasnaria. I never wanted to go back.

  And yet, here I was: returning to the corrupt and oppressive land of my birth.

  I released a sigh into the warm, morning air, and finished the final genuflection in honor of the goddess Glorianna as her sun rose behind me. I stood on a rock promontory, with the sea surrounding me on three sides. With the growing light, the crystalline water brightened to an unearthly shade of turquoise I’d never imagined could be real. I loved my home in Nyambura with my wonderful husband Ochieng, and my four brilliant—if occasionally trying—children, but the beauty of Annfwn took my breath away.

  Annfwn was an actual paradise. And not only because of the tropical lushness. The Tala who made the dazzling cliff city their home possessed a natural free-spiritedness that made for a relaxed and joyful community. Maybe being shapeshifters made them more mentally and emotionally flexible. Regardless, they didn’t seem to be bound up in oppressing anyone or trying to exploit each other for power.

  Not like in Dasnaria.

  Rising to a standing position again, I sent a prayer of gratitude to Glorianna, honoring her as Danu’s sister—and in gratitude for the sun that rose every day on my life since I escaped.

  “Aren’t you supposed to face Glorianna’s sun f
or that?”

  The unexpected voice startled me and had me spinning, a dagger in each hand and body coiled into a defensive crouch. Just as quickly, I rose again and sheathed my blades, abashed to realize I’d drawn on Her Majesty Queen Ursula. Who also happened to be Harlan’s wife—and was apparently soft-footed enough to sneak up on me. “My apologies, Your Majesty, I—”

  “Was rudely interrupted at your prayers.”

  “Not prayers so much as…” I lifted a shoulder and let it fall, rather than try to explain something so intimate, especially to this woman I barely knew. “I tend to wake early and I enjoy the sunrise.” I’d developed the personal celebration long ago, when I’d been an ignorant girl so dazzled by the sun she’d never seen before. All these years later, I still hadn’t lost the sense of wonder at its reappearance every morning. “I also wanted to look at the sea. I do know I’m supposed to be facing the sun.”

  “I doubt that Glorianna cares, and Ami—who might take it upon herself to instruct you in the proper worship of the goddess—is still lazily abed.” Her stern, thin-lipped mouth softened with affection as she referenced Queen Amelia of Avonlidgh.

  I supposed, among queens, one’s baby sister was still always that. Ursula and I weren’t so different that way. I’d never forgotten my younger sisters, Inga and Helva—and only for them would I return to the hellscape that birthed me.

  That and vengeance. Though after twenty years, it felt cold, indeed.

  “This is a good vantage point,” Ursula said, gesturing to the vista and sounding like she was trying to think of things to say to me. Was she feeling awkward also? I had failed to reply to her previous remark, a habit of mine from when I’d taken a vow of silence. If I didn’t have anything specific to say, I tended to fall silent.

  “Andi comes here all the time,” Ursula continued. “It’s her special place.”

  Well, shit. This was Queen of Annfwn’s special place. Another younger sister of Ursula, Queen Andromeda was also a terrifyingly powerful sorceress. That made several missteps I’d made so far today and I hadn’t been awake all that long.

  “I apologize,” I said, gauging the space between Ursula and the worn stone lionhead that stood proudly at the end of the rock promontory. I’d walked out along the breakwater initially to get a better look at it. The statue was very like the lions of Nyambura—which were not creatures of this land at all—so I’d been bemused to see it there. Now I was trapped. I couldn’t leave without shouldering past the queen, and she didn’t look inclined to end the interview yet. “Perhaps we should vacate this spot,” I offered tentatively, but Ursula waved that off.

  “Andi is not a morning person either,” she told me. “She’ll be huddled over a pot of tea for a while yet. Besides, you’re our heart-sister, so she’d be fine with you being here.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. When Ochieng and I had agreed to follow the wandering priestess Kaedrin to this place, she’d told us that Harlan needed my help. Beyond the fact that I owed my brother a debt I could never repay, I’d been entirely caught up with the longing to see him again. It had never once occurred to me that he’d have married—and that his wife would have sisters, who also had husbands, all apparently intent on being my family, too.

  I’d grown accustomed to knowing pretty much everyone in our fairly small community of Nyambura. Gaining so many new relatives in one swoop was a bit overwhelming.

  Ursula raised a brow at my silence, then nodded at the daggers I’d sheathed. “That double-blade technique looked like a move from one of Danu’s martial forms.”

  I started to shake my head, then nodded. Ursula’s brow climbed higher in question and I had to restrain the urge to bow to her. It had been a very long time since I’d been around royalty—Nyambura didn’t have much in the way of government, much less hereditary monarchies—and it seemed my long-forgotten habits all wanted to rush up and take over.

  This did not bode well for facing Hestar, my horrible eldest brother, now Emperor of Dasnaria, and my even more awful mother, dowager Empress Hulda. They’d expect me to prostrate myself for them and I would not do that ever again. I’d better flense myself of the impulse to bow and scrape to royalty right now.

  I straightened my spine and met Ursula’s eyes. They were sharp, clear gray, like the edge of the sword she wore at her hip. She had a tough, rangy body and boyish figure—and made no attempt to soften her appearance with her clothing. Instead she wore a curious outfit in shades of silver, with close-fitting pants hugging her long legs, high knee boots, and a sort of long, flowing coat over an embroidered bodice. She wore some simple jewelry—a pendant necklace and stud earrings—and I hadn’t forgotten my old life so much that I didn’t recognize the quality of the rubies. With perfect clarity and stunning depth of color, the jewels had to be priceless.

  The rubies had been cut simply, so they didn’t overpower Ursula, too. She had good bones, but her jaw was too strong for beauty and her nose looked like it had been broken at least once. With her pale, lightly freckled skin and short, dark red hair, she was striking, though my mother would have called her hopelessly unattractive.

  Funny how clearly I still heard Hulda’s voice, more than two decades after she sentenced me to death by marriage.

  Ursula returned my scrutiny, clearly waiting out my silence this time. Probably she found me as odd as I did her. I wasn’t sure of the reason for this little conversation, but I supposed I should try to make friends with her. If someone like her even had friends.

  “It’s an adaptation of Danu’s forms, yes, though probably not close to the core teaching,” I explained. In lieu of bowing, I offered Ursula’s one of my daggers hilt first. A kind of peace offering. “My blades were gifted to me by a priestess of Danu. She also taught me basic self-defense by adapting a Dasnarian dance I knew well—the ducerse—for use with the daggers. She didn’t have a lot of time to teach me, and though I’ve kept up the training all this time, I know my technique has… drifted.” A nice way of saying I’d pretty much created my own bastardized style, keeping the parts that worked for me and discarding the ones I didn’t like.

  Ursula examined the blade with interest. “You’ve cared for this well. This design is over thirty years old.” She handed it back to me with almost ritual formality.

  “That’s probably about right. I think Kaja had them for some time before she gave them to me.”

  Ursula’s attention intensified almost palpably, enough so that I had to disguise my reflexive adjustment of my grip on the dagger, ready to defend myself. She noted it with the keenness of a warrior at the top of her game, and I recalled Harlan telling me his Essla was the fastest fighter he’d ever seen. Tempted to ease out of her reach, I made myself stand my ground.

  “Kaja?” she repeated, an odd quality to her voice. In a less cold and remote woman, I’d have called it emotion.

  “She was a priestess of Danu,” I started to explain, then I belatedly remembered that Ursula would’ve known that. In navigating this conversational dance with the High Queen of the Twelve Kingdoms, I’d forgotten that she’d once been the adolescent princess Kaja had gone to Ordnung to train. And that Kaja had died trying to rescue Ursula’s mother. The grief surprised me, rising up thick and fast—and, more astonishing, tears glimmered in the warrior woman’s eyes, also, softening them to a silvery shimmer like the silks she wore.

  “Kaja was a noble warrior and priestess of Danu,” Ursula said slowly. She gave me a little smile. “You loved her.”

  “I did,” I admitted. “She saved my life as much as Harlan did. I’ve missed her every day.”

  “She is your aunt, you know, if posthumously,” Ursula informed me, keen gaze revealing that she knew full well this would be a surprise to me. “Her daughter Jepp married your brother Kral.”

  I struggled to assimilate that. “Kaja had a daughter, I know, but her name was Jesperanda, and…” Oh.

  “Jepp finds ‘Jesperanda’ a bit cumbersome for every day use,” Ursula con
fided drily. “She’s a warrior, like her mother, and was one of my best scouts until your brother stole her from me.”

  “So Kral married her?” I responded, sounding faint. The Kral I remembered would never have married such a woman. Of course, I hadn’t imagined Harlan would marry someone like Ursula either.

  Ursula tilted a hand from side to side, indicating the imprecise nature of the relationship. “Jepp isn’t the marrying type, but they are monogamous, which Jepp will no doubt complain about frequently when you meet her.”

  When I met Kaja’s daughter. Yet another heart-sister and with this unexpected connection. We planned to travel to join Kral aboard his ship, the Hákyrling, and I’d been so busy wrestling with the tangled nest of old emotions around Kral that I hadn’t given any thought to the wife of his they’d mentioned.

  Of course, we’d arrived in the midst of a pitched battle. In the aftermath of that, taking care of the wounded and settling all of my people—including my large elephant family—in a place already overstuffed with Tala packed in for a siege, there just hadn’t been much time to sort anything.

  “I look forward to meeting her,” I said, too formally and rather vaguely.

  But Ursula cracked a smile, a real one, and I caught a glimpse of the warmth inside her regal shell, like a ray of the sun that dazzled me so. At that moment, I caught a glimpse of why Harlan loved her. Like Ochieng was my sun, perhaps this tough warrior woman had shone light into the shadows of Harlan’s dour Dasnarian fatalism. “When do you plan to leave?” she asked me.

  “Ah…” I wasn’t sure how to reply. “I believe we are at Your Majesty’s disposal. Or at Zynda’s.” The Tala shapeshifter had offered to turn into a dragon and fly us to the Hákyrling, which…

  “It’s a lot to assimilate, I’m sure,” Ursula replied, as if reading my mind. “And though generous, I’m not sure Zynda’s offer makes the most sense. That’s part of what I wanted to ask you—and your people. We could have a strategy session to make plans, but I don’t want to step on your toes.”