Chapter Seventy
Intelligence
Varic
My whole body shudders as it feels like a swarm of hairy spiders is climbing up my spinal column, with everything about this castle seeming stranger than usual after the explosion.
The hallways that bustled with life are now desolate, filled with a solemn energy as every guard who once stood outside certain doors now hides behind them.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I scan the area, while the expression Tasch wore the moment I turned to leave flashes before my eyes, haunting me with the concern she held in her countenance, as it projects over everything while I try to scan the perimeter.
The guilt and the imagery refuse to leave, no matter how often I blink.
Her blue eyes were brimming with tears as we shared our fear and grief—those same emotions we have both worn outwardly as much as we have worn them inwardly, at this point.
Time passes strangely as I move toward the Queen’s suite, feeling as if I have just closed the door, while also worrying the hour has already passed. I rush down the hall, and my heart slams against my ribs when I round the corner to find four Annovian guards standing before the Queen’s quarters.
I slow my pace and walk toward them, so as not to cause alarm. “Will you please tell Her Royal Highness that Imperial Lead Guard Varic is in need of an audience?”
The Annovian guard with a thick black mustache places a strangely shaped key into the gaudy decoration behind him. Then a metallic grinding sound scrambles my mind, bouncing around inside my skull as he twists the key around.
I clamp my mouth shut when a small window opens, obscuring the sorcerer behind it with a fine metal mesh. The Guard with a black mustache whispers something, then more metal grinds together—much like how I work my jaw while I wait with impatience at how long this process is taking.
The door slides open while the guard waves me inside.
My heart sputters the moment I step over the threshold with the fear I might have severely fucked up by coming here.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat and pull the watch from my pocket, which claims I have forty-eight minutes before Fray is to fly her away from here.
I force the round metal object back inside its compartment and let out a breath in preparation to meet the Queen after having just roughly handled her son.
Tasch’s pained expression flashes behind my eyelids again, and I shake my head at how full of sorrow and fear she felt in that moment.
But she needn’t fear for my well-being. I’m the one meant to keep her safe.
And I fucking failed. Again. I just hope coming to see the Queen wasn’t the worst mistake I’ve made, though I wouldn’t have come if I felt we had any other option.
Metal grinds again, and my heart hammers as the door slides closed behind me.
If I don’t ever make it to the other side of that door, at least I know they will take care of her. No. I can’t think that way. I will return. To her.
Because nothing and no one can keep me from her. Not anymore.
I vowed to protect her, and that is what I am doing.
“You may wait here.” The Annovian servant gestures to the same sitting room where Tasch had tea with the Queen.
The chair she sat upon acts as a reminder of how she was able to allow more of her real self to show, closer to the Tasch I first got to know.
The same room where I witnessed a spark of joy grow in her after too many instances where she had to cower to that fucking tyrant.
Those moments which broke my heart and shredded my soul, terrified that I might have been too late—that the witch I know could have already been crushed under his relentless abuse.
Like my mother was. Just a shell of herself, because of my father.
The place where I observed how she can hold her own with a leader just as powerful, which was strangely healing in a way I wouldn’t have guessed I needed. How wrong I had been to think she could ever truly be lost, when she never gave up on me after everyone else did.
“I’m shocked to see you anywhere but by her side.
” Prince Auden’s voice jolts me into the present, and I turn to him with my pulse pounding.
He stares at me, then looks down at his hands, and I want to ask what he might have learned since we parted.
But he holds out a small letter for me to take, without a wax seal to keep me from reading it.
“Would you please deliver this to her?”
“Yes,” I say without thinking, so used to complying with those in roles of authority.
I tuck the paper inside a compartment in my leathers and begin, “I—”
He waves me off. “If you were about to apologize for earlier, there is no need. If I were in your position, I would have reacted similarly.”
My eyes narrow at his sincere expression.
“It is a comfort to see how fiercely you care for her.” My heart beats heavier in my chest because anyone noticing my care for her puts us both at risk, though I am clearly incapable of hiding it. “I can trust you will make sure she is safe.”
I nod, and he retreats without a sound back down the hall whence he came.
Then another shadow looms larger, coming from the same direction, and I hold my breath until Lanska dips in a curtsy to me, without it being a requirement. “Her Royal Highness.” She slowly backs away while the Queen glides past as if nothing is different.
She strides across the room with her hair braided in a crown around her head, wearing a blue silk robe she has tied tightly around herself. The matching slippers clop over the carpet until she turns and pins her eyes on mine while slowly lowering to sit in the chair she used before.
I bow to her and clear my throat. “Thank you for seeing me, especially under the circumstances.”
“To which do you refer?”
“Your Harvest Festival coming to such an explosive end.”
“So, you were going to ignore the fact you put your hands on my son, the Crowned Prince, after he whisked your…charge away in an effort to keep her safe.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks and over the bridge of my nose. “I apologize. I acknowledge my response was both aggressive and inappropriate.”
The Queen holds her hand up to stop me. “He deserved every bit of the fight you gave.” I fail to hide my shock as she continues. “He knows the protocol.” Her eyes scan my face, bringing more heat to burn beneath my cheeks. “He should have left her to you.”
I nod in appreciation. “What do you know of the blast so far?”
“Do you trust that she is safe while you are here questioning me?”
My mouth dries to the point I must pry my tongue from the roof of my mouth to answer her. “Do you truly believe me capable of parting from her otherwise?”
The Queen does not respond, though a new glint shines from her eyes.
“The rest of her Guards are watching over her in one of the guest rooms. We did not think it safe to take her back to the same one she had been assigned.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Your methods of protecting her are…unconventional.”
“We need to know if it is safe for her to stay here any longer, or if we need to extract her.”
“Can you ever truly know if she will be safe?”
“We can do our best, based on the information we have. As you are familiar, if someone intends to access you, they will find a way to do so.” Her expression reflects what I’ve learned of her history, with a multitude of assassination attempts throughout her reign.
“Do you know where the Emperor is hiding?”
“Last I was told, he and his party went to their respective suites.”
So little information.
“Do you know if he is aware that Imperial Grand Witch Tasch is alive and well?”
She shrugs, and her face is unreadable.
“Thank you for your time, Your Royal Highness.” I bow and flex my hand while it itches to check the watch in my pocket.
“I am sorry I was not able to offer much help.” She stands, and I wait for her to leave so I might return to Tasch and tell her what little I have gleaned from this meeting.
Upsetting her for nothing.
Yet the royal continues to stare in my direction, and I am unable to receive whatever message she may be trying to send me. I take a step closer while dropping my gaze in deference as she whispers, “I fear we may have a breach, so I must speak low.”
She leans in until her breath courses over my skin in a most unwelcome sensation.
“We will support you however we can, but you must heed my warning—you need to take her far, far away from him, and as soon as possible.”
Dread pools in my stomach, aching like a poison as the concern in her gaze is unmistakably genuine.
This is no deception; instead, it is that of a witch who has lived with a high level of threat and danger.
One who recognizes when a situation has become untenable.
My instincts scream with a panicked sense of urgency already growing too big to fit inside my body.
I nearly forget my place and bow to her far later than would otherwise be considered proper.
Then, when I straighten, the Queen’s brown eyes open wide to pierce mine with meaning as she forcibly grabs hold of my wrist before pressing a small metal vial to the center of my palm.
“You may need this before we see each other again,” she says, just under her breath. “It is of the utmost importance you understand its purpose, as it detects—”
“The essence of influence,” I whisper, before adding, “in anything which can be ingested.”
She nods and releases me before turning to disappear within the same doorway from which she entered.
I discreetly place the object in a pocket near my waistband and walk through her chambers, the guards stationed at the enormous sliding doors granting me passage. A heavy breath leaves my chest once the grating locks click behind me.
The chain on the pocket watch rattles as I pull it from the compartment and hold my breath as I raise it and read—releasing it when there are still fifteen minutes before Fray would begrudgingly take Tasch to the unfamiliar Dragon den.
A renewed sense of energy bursts through my veins as I storm down the hallway, hoping the loud clomping of my boots does not encourage anyone to try to stop me from going to her. Because I need to find her waiting in that room so I can pull her to my chest and breathe her in.
My heart lurches once I reach the door and pause, turning and checking that the hall is empty in both directions while my stomach ties itself in knots.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand when I pull out the watch, confounded by the need to stall as it should be too early to worry that they could have left already.
The hands confirm this with over seven minutes to spare.
I double-check that the hall is still clear, then pull in a breath and crack the door open.
Moonlight casts an eerie glow over the furniture—and nothing else.
Every hair on my body stands on end.
Where in the fuck did they go?
I tear through the room and scan my eyes over every inch to make sure the light isn’t tricking me—that I’m not somehow missing them. That they are in here somewhere. Until the bathing chamber is the only place left to check, and I shove the door open.
My heart drops to my stomach. It’s just as empty as the rest.
Did I make a mistake and look in the wrong suite?
I take one last glance, then check the room next door, heart hammering when I confirm they are nowhere within it either.
Then I shove the door to the suite on the opposite side open. And the next.
But there is no one inhabiting any of them.
My body moves faster than my mind can track, turning knob after knob until I’ve verified that every guest room along this hall is void of occupants, heart slamming harder against my ribs with every failure to find them.
This cannot be happening. Where in the fuck are they?
Panic steals the air from my lungs as I tilt my head back, which only makes it worse.
“Look at me.”
Tasch’s voice sounds as if she’s right here beside me.
“I am,” I tell her, though she isn’t there. Not physically.
Ocean blue eyes—aquamarine. That one dark freckle over her lip.
“You’re all I see,” I choke out, tears forming.
Her kind expression peers up at me in my mind, and I wish to tell her how every moment of every day, I want nothing more than to study her face. To hear her laugh—a sound which far too seldom charms my ears. To be her vessel. To contain all that she cannot handle.
I slam my eyes shut and swipe at the tears since I can’t risk anything dulling my senses.
I pull on my influence and channel her by conjuring moments when she helped to calm me, comforted me, cared for me so that I might refocus.
My breath hitches, but I refuse to hyperventilate.
I cannot fail her more than I already have.
I storm down the hall to where that fucking tyrant was said to be resting. Because it has to be him—he has to be the one who found her.
Which means she is safe. He won’t hurt her. He is nothing without her power.
A storm brews in my chest, and the flickering static of lightning licks at my fingertips. The familiar thrum of my magic builds, stinging with the need to burst from my body and obliterate.
I blink away every image of what may have befallen her, because the one promise keeping me from releasing my power—the one promise preventing me from annihilating everything in my path—is the same one I made to her.
That I would keep her safe, and she doesn’t need me to obliterate anything to get to her.
I will find her, and she will be safe. She has to be.
The Prince’s letter crinkles in my leathers when I twist to peer around the corner. My lungs depress when I find no sign of her, and I trudge on with the message I refuse to read serving as a motivator.
To ensure she has the opportunity to learn whatever the Prince would have her know.
Because I will find her. I will keep her safe. I will take care of her.
I will not let this be the end of our story.
I will not allow it.