Chapter Thirteen #2
“And what will you tell her of my tas’s scheming? His lies?”
Jem toyed with his spoon, the cool metal perfectly smooth under his fingertips.
“I gave my word that you and Delen could tell Kenver about Bryok before you face my mother.” Naturally, he didn’t add that he’d fully intended to ignore that promise.
He’d fully intended to have them locked in the dungeon but here Cador sat at his breakfast table.
It wasn’t too late. He could call for the guards and have Cador hauled away.
But he wasn’t going to, and it was time to stop feigning it was even a possibility.
No matter how much Cador had hurt him, Jem couldn’t bear to see him locked up.
He shuddered to think of the dark, reeking dungeon. He couldn’t do it.
“Are you planning to continue pretending that we’re…” Cador motioned vaguely between them. “Wed?”
“We are, aren’t we?” He flexed his right hand and displayed the brand. “Until we die is how the vows went, if I recall.” He formed a fist. “Does it still count if the brand is gone?”
“ Yes .” The word was low. Urgent. Cador leaned closer across the table. “Jem…”
“Don’t. We’ve said it all before.” He shoved too many grapes into his mouth and tried not to think of the ragged stump that remained of his arm in his nightmares.
“Then why pretend? You could have told your mother last night to give me another room. Any would do.”
It was a fair question. He swallowed the grapes, truly too full now.
“I don’t want to talk about it. There’s so much else already.
I’ll have my hands full with Santo’s questions.
And…” It really was laughable, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.
“This was the first true duty my mother gave me. I don’t want to admit failure. ”
Cador’s throat bobbed. Jem had the sudden urge to touch his growing beard. “You aren’t the one who failed.”
Picking up the spoon again, Jem squeezed it. “Still. It will be simple enough for me to sneak back here at night to sleep. The most important thing is finding a way to help Hedrok and Eseld and all the other children. In that, we are united.”
There seemed more Cador wanted to say, but he nodded and drained a glass of water. “You won’t tell them about the kidnapping plot or Bryok?” He couldn’t meet Jem’s gaze, his face flushing.
“Not yet. As I said, there are far more important things to handle. After all, King Perran could be marching his army south as we speak. I should tell Santo there’s too much business to deal with.” His full stomach gurgled as acid rose.
“No. Go to your aviary. You deserve the rest. I’ll tell your mother about King Perran trying to blame the fires on Ergh and going to the Holy Place.” He sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll tell her everything. From the beginning.”
Jem wasn’t sure what to think. He eyed Cador warily. “Before you speak to Kenver?”
“We can’t wait for my tas to return. It’s my responsibility. You deserve a respite, even if it’s only for a few hours. I will meet with her immediately and confess.” He glanced down at himself and grimaced. “Once I have trousers.”
“No.”
Cador’s brows met. “You won’t allow me trousers?”
Jem had to laugh at that, an unexpected snort. “No, I mean I don’t want you informing my mother of anything. I will tell her. Alone.”
“As you wish.”
“I’ll send up the seamstress and her team. I should get dressed myself.”
After days in the cleric’s robe, it was wonderful to open his closet and find his old clothes hanging just as he’d left them. He ran his fingers over the silk shirts in a rainbow of colors, finally going with a rich blue.
An old pair of knee boots fit like a glove over his tight fawn breeches. When he turned from his closet, Cador jerked his gaze away and busied himself with the dregs of breakfast.
Before Jem knew it, Santo was tugging him out into the corridor with smiles and a cheery wave to Cador. Jem let himself be swept along, gripping Santo’s hand gratefully. He’d feared to never see his family again, but now he truly was home. It wasn’t a dream.
Still, he couldn’t be carefree as he’d been before. “I can’t go to the aviary.” At Santo’s crestfallen expression, Jem quickly added, “I’m sorry. There’s too much at stake.”
They were interrupted by a flurry of footsteps approaching up the stairs. Pasco appeared, booming, “There he is! Our little brother back from his grand adventure already. You missed us too much, eh?”
Jem had to smile as he submitted to his brother’s back-slapping embrace. “Oh yes, I missed you terribly in particular.”
Their parents followed up the steps, and they all gathered before the massive stained glass windows that soared high on the front of the castle. Jem hugged his father gratefully, then his mother again, inhaling that wonderful lavender.
“Where’s your beast of a husband?” Pasco asked. He slapped Jem’s shoulder playfully. He was bigger and taller than Jem, like most people. “I’m sure he’s not good for much, but I hope he’s good for some things.” He winked.
Their mother grimaced. “Must you be crude?”
“Have you just met him? Of course he must,” Santo said, rolling their eyes.
“There will be none of that talk at the feast tonight.” She glared at Pasco.
Pasco shrugged his broad shoulders. He wore the typical breeches, tall boots, and silk shirt, this one in an emerald green that complemented his brown skin.
The whole family was fond of jewel tones, and thus it was the fashion for most in Neuvella.
Jem had forgotten how wonderful it was to see so much color as opposed to Ergh’s monotones.
And as much as he enjoyed the splendor, he frowned as he asked his mother, “Is a feast really appropriate? We have very serious matters to discuss.”
“And we will, my darling.” She cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead before lowering her voice.
“But we must assure everyone here at the castle and the surrounding villages that all is well. That you were simply homesick and nothing is amiss. The word will spread through Neuvella as it always does eventually. There is too much risk of panic, and that won’t help a bit. ”
As if on cue, a pair of courtiers in long, colorful dresses approached. “Prince Jowan, how lovely to see you!”
Jem painted on a smile and greeted them, exchanging pleasantries.
He honestly had never given any thought to the other people who lived in the castle and nearby.
There had just always been a flurry of activity and people around—courtiers and advisers, the servants and varied staff. He’d accepted it all without question.
The courtiers moved along, whispering with heads close, and Jem’s mother gave him another kiss. “We mustn’t worry anyone unnecessarily. And after your terrible journey, you deserve a day of rest.”
He tugged her farther away into a nearby alcove, aware of Father, Pasco, and Santo watching closely, though they gave Jem and Mother space. “I must tell you…”
She brushed back one of his curls. “Yes, my dearest?”
Now here was the moment he’d waited for, yet Jem’s mind stuttered like a wagon wheel hitting a rut. “It’s, well…” He rubbed his face. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Shh. It’s all right. You don’t need to worry. You’re home and safe, and I’ll take care of everything.”
Oh, these sweet words he’d longed to hear! But no. He wasn’t a pampered child anymore. As much as he’d assured himself that once he was home he could hand off all responsibility to his mother, he couldn’t. More than that—he didn’t want to.
Clearing his throat, he started with the most pressing problem.
“King Perran is sowing seeds of discord in his people that could spread through Onan. Blaming Ergh for the fires. We found out when we arrived at the Holy Place and found Prince Treeve already there. He thinks his father has lost his mind. King Perran arrived shortly after, and Prince Treeve helped us flee thinking his father might kill us. The man is unstable.”
She flattened her lips. “We’ve heard reports of this. Tell me more.”
Jem relayed all Treeve had revealed, adding, “He seemed truthful.” Though I’ve been fooled before.
“How asinine of Perran to believe I’d start wildfires in the Valley of the Gods. Or that I’d put crops at risk?” She grunted in disgust. “That damn man. He’s infuriating. I’ve offered relief for the displaced victims of the fires, and he hasn’t bothered to respond.”
“Infuriating indeed. And regarding the sevel crop, there’s even more to discuss.”
“Your majesty, the holy ones await you.” The queen’s loyal assistant murmured from where she’d suddenly appeared by his mother’s elbow.
Jem’s mother sighed. “I promised Ysella your father and I would attend a special prayer and offering to the gods at the temple in the village.”
Jem couldn’t bite back a groan. “That sounds torturous. But I should accompany you. Then we can discuss everything I learned on Ergh.”
“Darling, there’s no need for you to suffer through all that now.
It’s already afternoon, and we must prepare for the feast. Everything else will have to wait.
We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to discuss what you learned on Ergh, and I’ll dispatch another regiment north to monitor Perran in the meantime. ”
“Mother, forget the prayers and feasting. It’s all for show anyway.”
She laughed humorlessly. “The ‘show’ is half of what leadership is all about. More than half. You relax, my dearest. Spend time with Santo and catch your breath. We must keep our people assured that there’s no need to worry.”
Jem supposed that as long as she knew Perran could be on the move, the truth about Cador’s father and the sevels and disease could wait a day. Hedrok was being examined by the healer in Gwels, and it would be tomorrow at the earliest before Delen and the others arrived.