Bound to the Shadow Prince

Chapter 77

Chapter

Seventy-Seven

I stare at my sister in horror.

The rational part of me knows that she’s gone through hell recently. That she’s not herself. Her husband and her kingdom are destroyed. Her true love—Isabella—has died. Her son has been murdered and her other child given away. She’s been given to the enemy as a slave. Any of these things would break me, and yet my sister has endured all of them.

But the way she’s looking at me now is terrifying. The calm, rational Erynne Vestalin is gone. The Erynne who would do whatever it took to ensure the Vestalin line and the safety of our kingdom has been destroyed, just like Lios itself. I cannot stop staring at her dead eyes, at the look on her face.

I know in this moment that if I had a knife on me, she truly would murder as many people as she could, as long as they were Fellian.

“Erynne, no . That’s not the answer.”

She laughs. “Yes it is. They murdered everything I cared about. Give me a knife and I’ll make them pay.” Her eyes gleam with an unhinged light and she studies my clothing. “Do you have one on you? Hidden somewhere?”

“No!” I slap at her hands when she grabs at my dress. “Stop it!”

Her hand brushes over my rounded belly and she goes still.

Dragon shite. She knows.

Erynne draws back. Her shoulders straighten and she looks at me—really looks at me—for what feels like the first time. “How did you get out of the tower, Candra?”

“We waited for as long as we could. We waited for food. No one came, and Nemeth and I had to make a decision?—”

Her eyes narrow the moment I mention Nemeth’s name. “The Fellian. You didn’t kill him, then. I knew you were too weak. Too blinded by cock. Is it good? Does that monster have a fine cock? It must be excellent for you to betray your people just like that whore Riza.”

“Riza! She’s alive, then?”

“She should be dead,” Erynne spits, hatred contorting her face. “Cavorting with the enemy. Flirting with him. Pretending like he’s something other than a Fellian monster. ” Her lip curls as she looks down at my belly. “And you…you’re no better. Unless…did he rape you?”

I feel sick. Sick at how hopeful her expression is. She’d rather have me brutalized by the enemy than happily married? I shake my head. “Nemeth is kind.” When she snorts, I continue on, ignoring her. “He’s a scholar. He’s good to me. I-I married him, Erynne.”

“You always were a fool for cock,” she says in a bitter voice. “You should have killed him when you had the chance. Unless you still have that poison I sent you…?”

I get up from the bench. “You’re scaring me, Erynne. I’m not going to give you the tools to murder people.”

“Because you’re on their side now. Is that it? You’ve turned your back on your name. Your heritage. Your people.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Candra. You’re such an idiot.”

I want to cry. I want to bury my face in Nemeth’s arms and just weep for hours. This isn’t my sister. This bitter, hateful shell that wants to kill and hurt and destroy isn’t the Erynne I knew. The sister that always looked out for me and wiped away my tears is gone, replaced by this vengeful stranger. “It’s my fault,” I realize. “We left the tower. We brought the wrath of the goddess down…”

My words trail off as Erynne begins to laugh. I watch her, confused, as she holds her sides and laughs as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

“Oh Candra,” she wheezes. “Even after all this, you still think it’s about you? Hah. If only it were.” She laughs harder. “We’ve been lied to this entire time, you poor fool. And you’ve gone and married a Fellian. I had no idea you were so stupid.”

“What do you mean? Who’s lied?”

But Erynne gets a catlike look on her face, a smirk that makes my skin crawl. “Your husband can tell you. After he does, bring me the knife. I’ll do it if you don’t have the stomach for it.”

She turns away from me, hiding her face as one of the Fellian guards approaches the gazebo, and a moment later, she’s led away. I’m torn between clinging to her hand and begging them not to take her, and relief that she’s gone. It isn’t until Erynne is out of sight that I realize she’s never asked about my medicine or how I’m staying alive without it.

She hasn’t asked how I got pregnant.

She doesn’t care. I realize that. Everything she told me was to make me as broken and empty and full of hate as she is. She wants me to hate Nemeth and his people. I know that. I do.

But I can’t stop wondering what she meant when she said we were both lied to.

Nemeth returns a short time later, his mood foul.

“Went well?” I half-heartedly joke. I can tell it didn’t. He’s vibrating with tension, his mouth set into what looks like a permanent frown.

“He refuses to see me,” Nemeth says. “He’s having Ajaxi run messages between rooms and speaks to me from across the hall. It is madness. My brother has lost his wits.”

“Ajaxi?” My natural instinct is to tease a laugh out of him, because if we’re laughing, we’re not crying at least…and I definitely feel like crying at the moment.

He snorts. “Ajaxi has never had wits. Ivornath is the one that has lost his.”

That sounds more like my Nemeth. I wonder if I should tell him about my run-in with my sister. About all the awful things she told me. About the fact that she says I’ve been lied to. I don’t know how much was truth and how much was Erynne’s bitterness and her wanting to destroy my happiness with Nemeth. “So what is our next approach?”

Nemeth wraps his wings around me. “Now we return home.”

We slide through shadows, and my vision tilts dizzily. I cling to him, waiting for things to settle again. It’s silent when we’re back in his apartments, and I rub my skin, feeling safe. “Why does it feel different in here? Better?”

He grunts. “Ivornath has spells on the courtyard. He watches everything.”

Weird. “He sounds paranoid.”

“Paranoid, but alive,” Nemeth agrees. “You won’t be watched here. You’re safe.” He touches my shoulder. “But I must leave you here again. Ajaxi wishes to speak to me privately.”

Ajaxi—the one that’s enslaved my sister. I swallow hard. “Take me with you?”

Nemeth shakes his head. “It’s best if you remain here. Until we know what’s going on, I don’t trust anyone. The longer we keep the news of our child from them, the better. Let me go and speak to Ajaxi. He’s not very smart, but perhaps he can be coaxed into seeing things our way.”

“And what is our way?” I ask, wanting to make sure we’re on the same page. “What is it we’re asking?”

He gazes down at me, his expression puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what is our goal? What do we want from these people? What do we want from your king?”

His frown deepens. “To accept you as my mate and give you the honor you deserve.”

“And then what?” I gesture around us, at his apartments. “We live down here and I just ignore that all my people have been murdered and my sister enslaved?”

“What would you have me do, Candra?” His expression is patient. “I am taking things one step at a time. For now, I just want to ensure your safety.”

My safety…but no one else’s. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly altruistic, but I can’t sit back and just ignore the fact that those that lived have become slaves of the people here. “Nemeth, I saw my sister when you were in the palace earlier. She was waiting where I was. Did you know your brother Ajaxi has taken her captive? She’s his bed slave.”

Nemeth’s expression doesn’t change. “I knew she was taken as a spoil of war. I found out earlier. It is to be expected that the queen of the enemy is kept as a trophy, Candra.”

“Did they tell you that my nurse is dead?” My voice wobbles, and tears threaten, but I push them back. I don’t have time to cry about them today. When we’re safe and there’s no more to worry about, then I’ll grieve Nurse’s passing. “Did they tell you that the people left in Lios were starving and broken when they raided the city and put every male to the sword? Did they tell you that they killed my nephew Allionel? He was a baby, Nemeth. A baby . And your brothers murdered him.”

“I don’t agree with what they’re doing,” Nemeth says gently. “I would never agree to kill innocents. Soldiers are one thing, but old men and children are another.” He strokes my cheek. “But I cannot right all the wrongs from a place of no power, milettahn . You want me to race to my brother and demand that he free his captives when I cannot even convince him that my mate is my equal? That you should be safe with me instead of given to one of his generals?—”

I gasp. “What?”

His mouth goes flat. “It won’t happen, Candra. I won’t allow it. Don’t be afraid. But know that I’m doing everything I can. Once Ivornath listens to me, I can work to have your family freed. Until then, we must be patient. Understand?”

It’s frustrating, but I do understand. I want to stomp my foot like a spoiled little girl, but that won’t solve anything. “I hate this. I hate all of this.”

“I know. But will you trust me a bit longer? Please? Even you cannot woo someone in the space of a day. It took you over a year to seduce me.”

My mouth twitches, though I try not to smile and fail. “It’s because you’re far too honorable.”

“Then trust my honorable nature.”

“Ugh.” I do stomp my foot this time. “I hate your honorable nature sometimes. I think I’d prefer if you’d rush in and cut their throats.”

“Would you do the same to your sister?”

I glare at him, because he knows the answer to that. I might defy my sister, but at the end of the day, she’s still my family. “You?—”

There’s a knock at the door below.

Nemeth immediately pulls me behind him, his wings flaring protectively. I duck under his arm, worried. “Who’s here?”

“I don’t know. They cannot come in. I have my home warded. No one can come in through the front door without my express permission.” He frowns darkly at the offending door below. When there’s not a second knock, he touches my shoulder, pulling away. “Wait here, love.”

It’s not as if I can go anywhere, I want to point out. There are no stairs. But when he strides off the ledge and extends his wings, floating down, I move to the edge and kneel, peering down. I watch as he heads to the doors at the front and opens them. Even though I can only catch a glimpse of Nemeth’s head and his array of horns, I can tell by his reaction that there’s no one at the door. He reaches to pull something from a box next to the door, then frowns and tucks it under his wing.

When he shuts the door and turns away, I call out. “Who was it?”

“Just a message,” he says, and sets it down next to the door. It’s sealed with wax, a square of parchment with a splash of blood red on the center and a scrawl on the front that looks suspiciously as if it begins with a “C”.

“A message from who?”

He hesitates, and I get the sinking feeling that he doesn’t want to tell me. “Commander Tolian from Second House,” he admits after a long pause. “He is a rival. No doubt he is seeking information.”

“Is that my name on it?”

Nemeth disappears from below and a moment later he’s next to me. He helps me to my feet, rubbing my arm. “It’s nothing, Candra. I promise.”

Dragon shite it’s nothing. His reaction is bothering me.

He knows it, too. He leans in, searching my gaze with his. “Trust me for a bit longer? Please?”

I nod. How can I not? We’ve had each other’s backs from the beginning. I don’t like it, but I do trust Nemeth.

I trust him with my life.

The baby twitches and flutters all night long, making me toss and turn. Nemeth takes pity on my sleeplessness and makes me an herbal potion. “This is made from a mushroom here in Darkfell,” he tells me, adding a bit of honey to the small cup. “It is boiled and distilled down, a bit like your potion. One drop will make you sleep peacefully. Never take more than that.” He gives me a crooked smile. “Ironically, it doesn’t work on Fellians.”

“It doesn’t?” I sip the drink, and it has a sweet, pleasant taste.

“Just humans.” He kisses my brow. “Sleep well, my love.”

I curl up in bed with him, and despite my worries and the active baby, I do sleep…for a time. I wake up in the middle of the night, however, wide awake. The bed is empty.

Nemeth is gone.

Hugging the covers to my chest, I wait in the darkness. I tell myself he’s at the lavatory. Then I tell myself he’s taking a walk. Then I stop lying to myself and just wonder what he could possibly be doing in the middle of the night.

Sometime near dawn, I drift off again, and when I wake up, Nemeth is in bed with me, naked, as if he’s been there the entire time. He tugs me against him, rubbing my hip. “You feel good this morning.”

I push him away and sit up, disturbed. “Where did you go last night?”

He frowns, sitting up as well. “You woke up?”

“Your potion must not have worked well on me thanks to my Fellian blood and my curse. So spill it. Who’s the lover?”

Nemeth looks so aghast that I immediately know there’s no one else. “Why would I take a lover?”

“I don’t know. Why are you acting so suspicious? Where did you go last night?”

His expression grows defeated. “To see my brother. Or to try to. King Ivornath yet refuses to see me. I thought maybe if I went in the middle of the night, when all was quiet, that perhaps he’d relent.” Nemeth hangs his head. “I am failing you.”

I reach out and take his hands. “You’re not. Maybe I can somehow sneak in and see him. Try to wheedle my way in. I’m good at getting my way?—”

There’s a knock downstairs, just like yesterday.

Nemeth stiffens, and in the next moment, he disappears in a swirl of shadows. Damn it! I race towards the ledge, just in time to see him flinging another note away. This time, I clearly see my name on the missive. “That’s for me,” I call out. “Bring it to me.”

“It’s nothing, Candra. Leave it be.”

I stare down at my husband in shock. Several floors separate us, and the irony is not lost on me. I’ve never felt further away from him. Is this how Ravendor felt after she left the tower? Did her husband keep a hundred secrets—poorly—and make her wonder about his motives?

But Ravendor murdered her lover…and I am not her. I love Nemeth. I love him. I know him…or at least I thought I did. This secretive Nemeth feels like a stranger.“Why won’t you let me see those messages?”

Nemeth gazes up at me, his eyes glimmering. He looks as deflated as I feel. “Because I cannot.”

It’s impossible for me to hide my hurt. “Why won’t you talk to me, Nemeth? I feel as if I’m losing you.”

He’s standing right below me, a few floors away, and yet I feel as if we’ve become strangers all over again.

“Candra, no.” He disappears from below, and a moment later, his warm hand is upon my shoulder. He’s appeared behind me and holds a hand out. I take it automatically, but I can’t help but give him a wary look. The pain in his eyes deepens, and he takes both of my hands in his. “Please, please trust me, milettahn . Everything I do, I do for us. For our future. But you have to trust me a little longer.”

“I do trust you,” I tell him softly, searching his face. “I just wish I understood.”

“I will tell you everything when the time is right.” He presses a kiss to the back of one hand and then the other. “For now, I just ask you to put your faith in your mate. Believe in me.”

“Blindly?”

He flinches, and then his shoulders sag. “Aye, even if it must be blindly.”

I don’t understand this, any of it. I don’t understand why he won’t tell me what’s going on, or what’s so terrible a secret that he has to hide it from me. Is there a listening spell cast upon his home? Some sort of enchantment that forbids him from speaking certain things aloud? I wish desperately that I understood.

But I do know that I trust Nemeth. “Then blindly it is.”

A worn smile creases his face. He looks so tired, my beloved mate. So world-weary. When he pulls me into his arms, I hug him and then press kisses to his chest, my hand reaching under his kilt. I’m determined to make him forget, even if it’s for just a little while. To make the darkness lift from his eyes.

We make love, and afterward, Nemeth holds me against him so tightly it’s as if he fears he’ll lose me forever. I say nothing about it, of course.

But the next morning, when I find him gone again? I move to the teleportation circle and nudge the placeholder stone out of the way.