Chapter 80
Chapter
Eighty
T he plan is a simple one, it turns out.
A few humans with connections will go through the city and spread the word of an uprising. That Second House is with them and will be attacking the king. Weapons will be distributed so all can help Second House take control of the palace, and when the king is ousted, things will change in Darkfell.
“There is enough food for everyone,” Tolian says. “And Fellian and human do not have to be enemies. We can live together in peace, but not as things are. Ivornath must be taken from the throne and a new ruler established.”
“You?” I ask.
“If I must,” Tolian replies. “I do not want it, but if there are no other options, then I will serve as best I can.”
More plans are made. I lunch with Riza and her husband, and we discuss guards and how to get past them. I suggest the mushroom potion that Nemeth gave me to sleep. Perhaps if we knock out the guards, we can slip into the palace with little bloodshed.
“That brew only works on humans,” Tolian reminds me. “And it does not matter. We can take the guards. There are only a tenth of the warriors there were before the plague hit. They cannot cover all of the palace. We will attack from multiple sides and storm our way in.”
And once inside…the throne will be taken.
Ivornath will be put to death, but Nemeth is to be spared. I refuse to work with them otherwise. Ajaxi’s fate will be decided by my sister, who has also been plotting with Riza and Tolian.
“When?” I ask.
“Three days from now,” Tolian says. “We must move quickly, before Ivornath gives the order to have the humans purged from Darkfell entirely. With every day that passes and another house falls ill, the risk increases.”
So soon.
That evening, I’m restless with fear. I’ve never participated in a palace coup before. Oh, sure, I disliked Lionel intensely, but as a princess, I’m normally one of those in danger if the powers that be are usurped. This time, though, I’m with the “enemy.”
I’m going to betray the man I love, who might only be pretending to love me. The thought is terrifying. What if something goes wrong and Nemeth is hurt? What if the baby is hurt? I rub my belly. This is more than just breaking out of an empty tower.
This is the forceful taking over of a kingdom.
Nemeth doesn’t return until late, and when he does, he’s tired and wan. He staggers to the bed and flops into it next to me, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“You don’t look so good,” I tell him, worried. Betrayer or not, I love him. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Just exhausted. I spoke with Ajaxi tonight. For hours.” He casts me a wry look. “I told him I was tired of being pushed off. I’m First House as well, and Ivornath should see me. It’s not right that he will only visit with Ajaxi. I know there is fear of plague, but I am his brother, too.”
“What did he say?”
Nemeth grins, and my heart flips. “We have been invited to dine with the king tomorrow, the both of us.”
Finally, we’re getting somewhere. Relieved, I fling my arms around him and hug him tight. Maybe it won’t come to an uprising. Maybe Ivornath will listen to reason.
And if he doesn’t, maybe I find a knife and make him listen.
I’m nervous the next day for the dinner. Nemeth doesn’t leave, so I can’t send a message to Riza. In a way, I’m glad. It feels less like I’m betraying him this way and more like we’re a team once more. We move around in his quarters, pointing out spots that might be good for staircases to be added, and he’s affectionate and sweet, and I feel like the biggest arse in all of Lios.
Has he been on my side all this time? Are Riza’s words lies? But Riza doesn’t have to lie to me. She’s been my family since I was born, even if we’re not related by blood. It fills me with turmoil, and I’m tempted to pick at Nemeth, to pry at him and try to get him to admit to his secrets.
But I’m tired. So tired. So I opt for an easy day instead. We eat together, and nap together, and talk about the future as if nothing has changed. We lie in bed and he puts a hand on my belly, feeling our child kick. And when the dinner hour nears, we prepare.
Nemeth wears his First House regalia, the metal embossed kilt and the finely engraved breastplate. He throws a bright red cloak over his wings, the material sliding down the center of his back like a waterfall. “For show,” is all he says when I arch a brow at him. “Ivornath likes a production.”
Ivornath sounds a bit too much like Lionel for my tastes, but I can put on a show, too. I dig through the case of jewelry that had been brought for me and deck my braid with strand after strand of pearls and gold. My ears are adorned with heavy pendulums of jewels, and I wear more at my throat. My dress is the simple Fellian garb, but I pick out the most ornate-looking shawl and wrap several necklaces around my wrists in makeshift bangles.
I look very rich and very garish, which I think is the point. Gazing into the mirror, I run my pinky along a pot of lip tint and rub it onto my mouth as Nemeth comes to stand behind me. “Well?” I ask, putting the finishing touches on the cosmetic. “Do I look fit to see a king?”
“You always look like a dream to me,” he confesses, taking my jewel-encrusted braid in his hand and rubbing his finger along it. “You grow more beautiful every day.”
“My beauty isn’t the question,” I tease, keeping my voice light even as my heart aches. “It’s whether or not I will impress your brother. He’s been so difficult to reach I worry we won’t have another chance.”
“I just hope he’s finally willing to be reasonable,” Nemeth says. He gently sets my braid back on my shoulder and gives me a thoughtful look. “I’ve thought about what you said. About leaving. If it comes to that, then we will go. But while there is food and safety here, we must give Ivornath a chance.”
“Safety?” I wipe my fingers on a towel. How can he speak of safety when there’s a plague here? I’m about to blurt that out when I remember I’m not supposed to know there’s a plague. Dragon shite. “Do you, ah, feel we’re safe here? Even though this place feels wrong to you?”
Nemeth shrugs, his wings shifting. “There is food and protection from the storms. For now, that counts as safety.”
I’m not so sure I agree. Not if there’s a plague striking Fellians down. “Well, I’m ready. Shall we go?”
“We should cover our mouths,” Nemeth says, handing me a length of cloth. “King’s orders.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“Ivornath can be eccentric.”
Oh come on . And he still won’t tell me there’s a plague? I give him a disappointed look but manage a smile anyhow. “Well. Shall we do my potion before we leave?”
A short time later, my pulse is singing thanks to the infusion of Nemeth’s blood, and I’m feeling good enough that despite the wooziness that a quick teleport imparts, I recover quickly. We appear at the front gates as we did before, but this time, instead of the guards directing me to the gardens, they cover their faces and step away, eyeing me with distaste.
“My, how odd,” I exclaim to my traitorous mate, even as I cling to his arm. “They act as if we’re sick.”
Nemeth stiffens, but then pulls me closer. “You’re safe, Candra. Rest assured that you’re safe.”
I bite my lip, hating that he’s giving me more non-answers.
The large, jewel-encrusted doors of the palace open on their own, letting us in. When we step inside, it’s dark and shadowy, the hall itself enormous and stretching up into the shadows as far as the eye can see. A few magical globes shed light, but I can’t see enough to make out much of my surroundings. It echoes in here, our footsteps loud with every step forward. There’s a set of stairs tucked along one wall, which I find curious, but we pass them quickly and head deeper inside. Shadowy shapes lurk at the edges of the darkness. I’m pretty sure they’re statues, but it’s unnerving anyhow. “Just so you know, I hate that it’s dark in here.”
Nemeth chuckles. “There is not much to see other than the posturing of my relatives. Each king has made himself a very grand statue, including my brother.”
“Charming.”
“Indeed.” He leans in as if sharing a secret. “I’m told most of the ancestors gave themselves extremely prominent portions of anatomy so no one would doubt the virility of First House. I grew up hating to visit this hall, because I always felt inadequate.”
I stifle a giggle, burying my face against his arm. “If it makes you feel any better, I did not find you inadequate in the slightest.”
His laughter rumbles through his body, and I ache with how much I adore him in moments like this. If we’d never left the tower, I’d still have utter faith in him. I’d still think he was madly in love with me.
We’d be dead, but I’m focused on moping at the moment, not on reality. The truth is, if Nemeth has never loved me, I suppose it’s best to find out. If his idea was to turn me to his side, he’s failed. I hug his arm tightly and glance around as we head down the hall. “So where is your brother?”
“We’re meeting him in the official dining hall.”
“Shouldn’t there be servants around?” I ask, eyeing the empty, shadowy palace with a bit of unease. “The palace at Lios was always crawling with people.”
“Aye, this is unusual. But I’m told Ivornath has been retreating more and more these last months. It’s one reason why he’s been so difficult to contact.” He pats the hand I have on his arm. “Ajaxi says that it’s temporary. That most of those that have been dismissed from the palace will be reinstated again soon.”
Or not, because they’ll be dead of plague. But if he trusts Ajaxi, I guess we have to go with it. “Funny that your brother will see Ajaxi but not you.”
“They’ve always been close,” Nemeth confesses, and I hear a familiar wistfulness in his tone. “While I was being raised at the Alabaster Citadel, my brothers took their training together. I’ve always envied them for their kinship. I was more or less forgotten.”
In that, I feel a kinship to Nemeth. I was the forgotten princess, too. Because of my blood curse and my inability to bear children, I was considered useless for the Vestalin line. The focus was entirely on Erynne, and I spent my time with nurses and servants. “You’re still their brother,” I remind him. “Growing up in the citadel shouldn’t change anything.”
Even though I know it does. I just never thought about it much until I met Nemeth.
Another set of fine double doors opens, and a soft, yellow light pours into the hallway. There’s a sumptuous feast laid out on a long, cloth-colored table. The scents of delicious food waft toward us and my stomach growls. Here, there is a pair of servants pouring wine, and Ajaxi, Nemeth’s younger brother, sits at the far end of one table and holds a goblet up in a mocking salute. “Brother. I see you brought your plaything.”
“My wife,” Nemeth says in an even voice. “My mate. You will speak to her with respect, Ajaxi. She is a princess of Lios.”
“And Lios is dust,” Ajaxi continues merrily, drinking from his goblet. Some of it runs down his chin and he swipes it away with one big hand.
I look at him in disgust as Nemeth leads me toward the table. How can two Fellians look so alike and yet one be so very revolting to me? But Ajaxi seems very much like a spoiled boy. He wears similar clothing to Nemeth’s but his are festooned with chains and fobs across one shoulder—medals of some kind for battle. He slouches in his chair and the heaviness of his eyelids suggests he’s been drinking for a while.
As we approach, he smirks in my direction and lifts his goblet, scratching at his collarbones with long claws. “Vestalin princess of nothing, greetings.”
Turd. I manage a tight smile as Nemeth pulls out a seat for me. “Where is the king? We’re here to see him, not you.”
“Ivornath will be along shortly,” Ajaxi says, shaking his goblet at one of the servants. The woman—a Fellian—hurries forward with the pitcher and pours him a fresh glass, the lower half of her face covered with a veil like mine. Ajaxi wears no face wrap, though, and I unwind mine, gazing at the delicious food. Stewed, spiced mushrooms. Braised fish from the harbor. Fresh fruit and nuts. A sinful amount of olives and dates. Pickled eggs. Three kinds of bread. My mouth waters at the sight.
“Ah ah,” Ajaxi says as I touch my scarf. “Keep the human covered. They’re filthy things.”
“We’re here for dinner,” I reply sweetly, though it takes everything I have not to snarl at him. “One cannot eat when one’s mouth is covered.”
He snorts and chugs more wine, scratching at his neck.
I decide I’m going to charm Ajaxi so it hurts more when he’s betrayed. I give him my most coquettish smile and slide a hand over my braid, tugging it toward my cleavage. His gaze goes there automatically and I lean forward. “You must be very close to your brother the king for him to trust you with so much.”
Ajaxi grunts and leans in, his gaze on my breasts. “Truth be told, I’m running things around here?—”
Nemeth seats himself between us, clearly not understanding my play. He glares at his brother and ruffles his wings. “Ivornath will be joining us soon, yes?”
“Soon.” Ajaxi shrugs, toying with his wine cup. I flick my braid and give him a sultry smile. “This one seems more pleasant than her sister. I see why you have her in your bed.”
Bastard. It takes all that I have to keep smiling as if his words are a compliment.
“This one is my mate,” Nemeth practically growls.
“Huzzah,” Ajaxi says, smirking. “To a lovely human in your bed. Wine for my brother and his human.”
“Mate,” Nemeth corrects again.
“Oh, no wine for me,” I tell the servant that sets a cup in front of me. “Perhaps milk or water?”
“Are we a toddler?” Ajaxi asks.
I titter with fake laughter, sliding my wine towards Nemeth. “No! But after so long without eating properly, my stomach fusses at strong tastes. You know how it is. I have to be so careful at what I put in my mouth.”
“Is that so,” Ajaxi murmurs. Nemeth puts a hand on my thigh, as if warning me. I ignore it. If Ajaxi truly is in control of things, it’s best for me to get him on my side. I flutter my lashes in his direction and lick my lips. He flicks a hand at a servant. “You heard her. She prefers a…mild mouthful.”
“I don’t want to seem too greedy,” I say coyly, giving Nemeth a teasing look. “But my mate has kept me well fed and my cheeks stuffed?—”
“Candra,” Nemeth says in a sharp voice. “Please.”
“Oh, stop,” I say, tapping his arm with my hand. “I’m just trying to get to know your brother. He has my sister, you know. That practically makes us family.” I tilt my head and give Ajaxi a bright look. “How is my darling Erynne? Have you been taking excellent care of her?”
He huffs and rolls his eyes, then returns to drinking.
“Where is Ivornath?” Nemeth asks again.
“Late.” Ajaxi shrugs. “He’ll be along soon. Eat. Drink.”
I sip the milk that a servant brings me. It’s ice cold and creamy, and I nearly moan at how delicious it is. I drink the full goblet and then pluck a sweetened roll from the table. “If he’s anything like Lionel was, he’ll make us wait out here while he lounges in bed.”
Ajaxi laughs at that, perhaps harder than he should have. I pretend to ignore it, nibbling on the food. “Ivornath is indeed lying about. As for your sister, she is…not happy. But political prisoners seldom are.”
“Nemeth and I could use a few servants now that we’ve returned to his home,” I say brightly. “You could give Erynne to me.” I lower my voice and wrinkle my nose. “She would truly hate that, which means it would be quite fun.”
Maybe he’s stupid enough to give Erynne over to me without much fuss, and if that’s the case, he’ll be easy to lead around. Maybe no uprising will be needed.
A servant hands me another goblet of milk, and I lift it to my lips.
“I’m keeping her for now. Though I must say, meeting you, it’s a shame we haven’t talked before now.”
I give him my best I’m-a-hussy smile and lick the milk froth from my lips. “Why is that?”
Ajaxi takes another gulp of his wine and points a clawed finger at me. “I was supposed to be the one sent to the tower to seduce you?—”
“Ajaxi!” Nemeth snaps, going stiff beside me. He jumps to his feet.
I stare at the brothers.
Ajaxi lounges in his chair, eyeing me. “Might have been fun to bounce you on my cock. Not at the expense of going to war, but it’s a thought. Instead, they sent this one.” He flicks a hand at Nemeth. “My scholarly brother who refuses to play well with others.”
“Excuse me?” I say, keeping my voice pleasant. “Did you say Nemeth was sent to seduce me?”
“No,” Nemeth hisses, a hand clenched at his side.
Ajaxi just shrugs drunkenly. “Might as well tell her now.” He lifts his chin at me, giving me a knowing look. “It’s true. It was supposed to be me sent to the tower but then…plans changed.” His expression grows vague and he stares into his goblet. “Ivornath made Nemeth go instead. I might have fought harder if I knew a prime tart like you was going to be there.”
I should be upset more. Panicking more. Instead, I just feel…tired. Drained. As if all the energy has left my body. This is confirmation of what I feared, isn’t it? I shoot a glance up at Nemeth, to see if he’s still pretending to deny it.
“It’s…true,” Nemeth confesses after a moment. His gaze is tortured as he looks down at me. “But it’s not the whole truth. Yes, I was sent to the tower with instructions to woo you. But I fell in love with you instead. That is very much the truth.”
I shake my head slowly and drink a bit more milk, though my stomach is starting to feel unpleasant. My head pounds. “That seems rather convenient, don’t you think?”
“It’s the truth.” He kicks his stool aside and drops to a crouch beside me, taking my cold hand in his. “Believe me, Candra. Think back to my actions. Of how we’ve worked together.”
Ajaxi makes a disgusted sound as Nemeth pleads with me. “Don’t debase yourself to a human, brother. Slap a collar on her and use her like the betrayer she is?—”
Nemeth roars with fury, turning and rounding on Ajaxi. His wings spread and he flies toward him. The brothers crash into a wall nearby, knocking dishware to the ground and sending the servants scattering.
I jump to my feet—and nearly pass out. Darkness swims in front of my eyes, and I press a hand to my brow. Oh gods, why am I so tired and weak suddenly? I clutch at the table as the two men brawl, and as I step away, I see another set of stairs at the back of the room.
More stairs. Huh.
I wonder if I can find Ivornath on my own?
I stagger toward the stairs, dizzy. My steps feel heavy, and something feels vaguely wrong. I should stop, go back to the table and sit down until the dizziness passes, but we’ve waited so long to see Ivornath that I’m not about to stop now. Clutching the railing, I haul myself up the flight of stairs slowly, vaguely aware of the two Fellians brawling and shouting at each other. The stairs are new, the wood scent fresh, and splinters stick up from the railing, the wood so recent it hasn’t yet been worn down. This seems important, but I can’t get my mind to focus.
Something is definitely wrong.
In a haze, I stagger to the landing and then down a corridor lit with magic globes. There’s a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway and I push toward them. Dimly, I’m aware of them opening to let me into a room that smells sickly sweet, thick with incense and something foul. The edges of my vision are filling with black, and I know I don’t have much time. I fall to my knees and crawl toward the large curtained bed in the center of the room and pull back the hangings. Sure enough, a large form lies there in bed.
Lazy shite king. With a snarl, I grab the blankets and rip them off of his body. I lose my balance and tumble to the ground with the blankets, and as I do, the smell in the room grows stronger.
The smell of dead and dying things.
Gagging, I crawl to my knees and haul myself upright, using the bed to support myself. As I do, I stare down at Ivornath’s dead body. Maybe once he was a man in the prime of his life, but now he’s simply a desiccated corpse, his neck and chest marked with a dark, putrid rash. His mouth hangs open as if he screamed in his last moments, and his wings are shriveled underneath him.
Dead.
Long dead, probably from the plague. How…
“It’s a good thing you’re already poisoned, because now you have to die.”
The feminine voice is light and confident, familiar and yet strange. I turn and as the darkness envelops my gaze, I can just barely make out a face similar to my own, with green eyes and long, black hair and a haughty smile.
“M-Meryliese?” I manage before I collapse to the floor.