Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
“Are you mad?” It was said without hesitation or anger. “What makes you think I would stoop so low as to murder?—”
“If there is no truth to the accusation, then declare that to be so right here and now.”
Anger flickered briefly through Aric’s eyes. “This is not the place to be discussing such matters?—”
“In front of so many witnesses, you mean?”
The anger increased. Aric had been outmaneuvered and he was well aware of it.
If he didn’t make a public declaration and something subsequently happened to Garran, there’d be an immediate and hostile response from both Jarin and Neera.
Aric might be king, but he wasn’t our king, and he certainly didn’t have the power, the military might, or even his tame mind reader here to enforce the placement of Damon on our throne.
Aric shook his head, his expression one of disbelief. “If you trust Zephrine so little, King Garran, then I declare, on the life of my oldest son?—”
“On the life of your heir ,” I cut in.
His gaze clashed with mine and promised retribution. Sparks briefly danced across my fingertips, but I clenched my fists and continued to meet his gaze evenly.
“On the life of my heir,” he continued flatly, “that I have no plans to murder either yourself or your heir to gain Esan’s throne. But we are at war, Garran, and sometimes Túxn turns her back on even the luckiest soul. I cannot be held accountable for that.”
A statement that was outwardly all Garran could want except for one little thing—Aric saying “he would never stoop so low” raised the possibility of his son or his henchmen performing the deed.
“If I’m taken out in a battle, then will you not also fall, given you intend to stand by my side and offer us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?
” Garran’s smile was obviously false, and I doubted he cared.
“However, if death does find me outside the field of battle, then Jarin, as my second-in-command, and Neera, our night shift general—both of whom bear witness to your statement here today—have, as of this moment, orders to arrest your entire entourage until a full investigation is undertaken.”
Aric’s expression did not improve, and I could not deny there was a section of my soul that rejoiced.
“This is not a noble beginning to what should be a long and prosperous trading partnership between our great nations,” he said, voice still so very calm, so very even, despite the fury that had to be surging through him.
In other words, he had not given up his machinations to gain our throne, even if the immediacy of those plans had suffered a pushback.
“I beg to differ, King Velez. Now that our cards are on the table and we both understand each other, there is little to prevent a long and successful trading partnership. Now, if you don’t mind, I am in dire need of a bath and some food.
Jarin, could you send a couple of medics, along with a scribe tablet linked to Jakarra, to my quarters?
Then call a meeting of all generals for the morning—Aric, you and your son are welcome to sit in.
” His gaze came to mine. “Walk with me.”
He stepped away from the cage’s door and strode with purpose toward the palace steps.
I glanced at Jarin and covertly motioned toward Aric and the fake husband.
He nodded briefly, then turned and ordered a number of guards to follow in Garran’s wake and guard his door.
At the rate we were seconding soldiers to personal guard duty, we’d have to bring more in from the military zone to cover the watch on the upper secondary wall.
My leg twinged as I hurried to catch up to Garran.
I glanced down, saw the fresh blood staining the bandages.
Obviously, I’d opened the wound, but that scared me far less than the anger washing off the two men behind me.
I kept very close to Garran as we walked up the outer steps and entered the palace foyer.
I was well aware neither of them would act when there were so many witnesses about, but still. ..
“I did wonder where we’d find the space for another war room,” Garran murmured, his gaze sweeping the room, “but it is a perfect solution to the problem.”
“Aric doesn’t think so.”
“I dare say that’s because we no longer have the view advantage, and he is not wrong in that.” He glanced at me. “I take it we’re concentrating on ramping up the lower wall’s resistance to the acid?”
“We are indeed.”
“Excellent.”
We wove our way through the desks and up the next set of stairs, but at the top, he hesitated.
I knew why.
“You are the new king,” I said softly. “Their rooms are yours now.”
“That doesn’t seem right.” He glanced at me. “Have you even been in there since their deaths?”
“No.”
“Then I shall take the grand guest?—”
“Aric and Damon reside in that. Besides, my parents’ suite is the most secure part of the palace.”
That, more than anything, got him moving.
I followed, but the closer I got to my parents’ suite, the more my gut churned.
The guard—a man I didn’t know—acknowledged us with a brisk salute, then opened the door.
Garran stepped inside, but I paused on the threshold and turned to the soldiers following us.
“Maintain watch down this hall. King Aric, Prince Damon, or any of his entourage are not to be allowed near until cleared with King Asli, understood?”
They saluted and positioned themselves. I stepped into the room, breath caught in my throat and my gaze down, trying to avoid really looking at the rooms I knew so well.
I turned, closed the door, and then slid the internal lock across to ensure no one could enter unannounced.
I trusted the guards, but until we knew exactly what the strange energy surrounding Aric’s spy was, it was better to be as cautious as possible.
Then I released my breath...
And drew in the scent of my parents.
Tears hit my eyes. I leaned my forehead briefly against the door’s thick wood and fought their sting. I couldn’t unleash. Wouldn’t unleash. Not again.
“Bryn?” Garran said softly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“There are many who would take that simple statement at face value, but I know you too well.” I didn’t hear his approach, but suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, turning me before wrapping me in a hug. “You can allow yourself to grieve, dearest cousin. No one would ever think less of you.”
“I can’t. If I do... the tears might not stop, and we’ve too much yet to do for me to fall apart.”
“The world will not end if you take a day or so to yourself.”
“And will you take a day to rest and recoup?” I pulled away, not giving him the chance to answer, because we both knew what it would be. “I believe a bath should be your first order of business, though, because you smell worse than a privy hole.”
He laughed, briefly lifting the weariness from his gaunt features. “What I need first is a good glass of red. I had no idea how addicted I was to the stuff until I was deprived of it. And may I point out that, right now, you are not exactly the sweetest-smelling flower.”
I smiled, knowing full well he was trying to lighten my mood. “I’ll have you know that to those of us who love drakkons, the scent is almost ambrosial.”
He chuckled and moved across to the drinks cabinet. “Rest assured, to those of us who have never been near a drakkon, it is almost the exact opposite.”
My gaze followed him and I saw Mom’s bone hair clasp was sitting next to the left side door.
I sucked in a breath, then spun around and walked across to the scribe tablet, doing my best to ignore all the personal bits and pieces scattered about the room, ready to be picked up and used again.
But they never would be. Not ever again. Not by them, at least.
Once I’d ordered his meal, I returned to the seating area, picked up the glass of wine he’d placed on the table for me, and sat opposite him.
There was a sharp knock at the door, then the guard said, “Medics are here, Commander.”
I started to rise, but he motioned me to remain and walked over. “Jarin doesn’t muck about, doesn’t he?”
“Well, it’s not every day an heir returns from the dead.”
He unlocked the door and ushered the three medics in, which in my opinion was overkill, but I couldn’t blame Jarin for being extra cautious.
The medics tsked their way through their examination, then declared neither of us were on the verge of death, even if Garran did look like it.
Two of them patched his wounds while the third cut away my pants leg, removed the shaft from my leg, and declared me lucky not to have done major damage.
After giving us both a number of potions and salves to use, they ordered us not to do too much unless we wanted to split our wounds open again, and then briskly left.
Once Garran had slid the bolt across once again, he picked up his wine, dropped down on the sofa, and leaned his head back, his eyes closed.
“What’s with you and the husband? There was a decided amount of hostility evident, which is surprising given Aunt Marin swore there would be no wedding unless there was compatibility. ”
“Oh, there’s plenty of compatibility, just not with that husband.”
He cracked an eye open. “Then he’s the real one, not the fake one?”
“He’s the real heir . I do not consider him the real husband. That honor belongs to the one the treaty mentions—the firstborn son.”
“Meaning it’d be pointless voiding the treaty, because in the eyes of the church, you’re still legally married to this Damon and that cannot be undone.”
“Unless it’s not consummated. Which it hasn’t been. He knows I’ll cinder his balls if he tries.”
Garran half laughed. “A threat any wise man would heed, but as you’ve said, our Velez king plays a longer game. Besides, lack of consummation isn’t a guarantee of the marriage being voided. It often depends on the situation and the pastor.”
“Marshall will be on our side.”