Chapter 22 Sword And Dagger
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sword And Dagger
Alex
At least one benefit came from each province hosting the Treaty Ball every five years.
Alex had catalogued and taken account of the main areas in each palace.
She shifted up a second stairway. After this next level, she would have exhausted her knowledge of the Rune palace, but it wasn’t hard to figure out where to go once she reached the top.
Vivian loved nothing more than splendor and riches.
Follow the gold and gems and she’d be right where she needed to be.
Evading the staff had been child’s play; they were all so focused on their jobs, heads down, eager to please, no one took notice of her.
It had been only too easy to wait for the laundry cart to move by at the back entrance and follow behind it, snag a dusky gray servant’s dress from the top, and duck into a garderobe.
Changing quickly, she had stuffed her leathers into her pack before jamming it behind a washbasin.
She didn’t like taking the risk of leaving it behind but it would be too noticeable to carry with her.
The satchel at her side, however, was at least the same color as the dress, so it might be enough to blend in.
For a palace ripe with jewels and finery, they needed better security, not that she was complaining.
The corridor she walked in was wide and spacious.
Her instincts had her wanting to skim the walls and stay hidden, but she forced herself to mimic the other servants, sticking to the middle of the corridor.
She walked, head down, with the bucket and scrub brush she had taken from the garderobe.
Her eyes downcast, she looked sidelong as she passed rooms on either side.
His bedchamber had to be close; Vivian wouldn’t want her prized son far from her.
She would have to try a door though, and hoped that Fari was looking down on her.
The first two doors led to empty chambers, strange that the rooms were all unlocked and seemingly abandoned.
The third, however, opened to a sitting room with two chairs and a chaise lounge inlaid with mother of pearl, and half a dozen pillows.
The room appeared as vacant as the others but Alex sensed that she was not alone.
Moving through the sitting room into the main bedchamber, she took in the massive canopy bed, rumpled sheets and blankets in disarray.
To her left, a door was cracked open; slight noises reaching her ears.
Sliding closer to the opening, she peeked inside.
Perfect. A sinister smile eased across her face as she boldly swung the door open.
A high pitched scream ripped from Tristan, causing Alex to giggle, casually flipping a dagger in her hand.
“How did you get in here?” Tristan demanded, standing in a large claw foot tub, dripping wet, water sloshing over the side from his sudden standing position, his sword brandished in her direction.
When had he picked up his blade? Who even bathes with a sword anyway? The man could move fast, I’ll give him that.
Running her gaze up and down Tristan’s nakedness, Alex teased, “Hmm, for your future wife’s sake, let’s hope you’re a grower, not a shower.”
Tristan only chuckled at the insult, not seeming to give a shit that he was naked, standing in a bathtub before her.
“You lower your weapon and I’ll lower mine.” Alex offered, raising her eyebrow. “I only want to talk.”
Tristan answered her statement with his own raised eyebrow. “Believe me, my weapon isn’t raised.” He tossed back, but lowered his sword to his side.
He slowly stepped out of the tub, pointedly staring at Alex’s dagger still flipping in her hand.
She heaved a sigh and slipped it back into her boot.
Crossing her arms, she watched as Tristan grabbed his towel, wrapping it around himself, and sauntered back into his bedchamber, his wide shoulders and tapered waist on full display.
Good Gods. I would never stab a man in the back but Tristan is making me rethink my morals on that front.
“So are you here to stab me in my back or...” Tristan said, dropping his towel.
“If I was going to stab you in the back, I would have done it already.” She replied, not bothering to avert her gaze as he stepped into his pants, with no undergarments at all. She really wanted to kick him in his begrudgingly well-sculpted ass.
“If you aren’t here to stab me, then get on with it. There are people more important than you who need my attention.”
Alex curled her lip, baring her teeth. “I think you know exactly why I’m here.”
“You aren’t here looking for your runaway queen, are you? Because she isn’t here.” He gestured across the room to his giant bed.
Her whole body stiffened, hands clenching into fists as she stalked towards him. “Do not mention Rivka in your bed again. You were a mistake that should never have happened.”
Shock pulsed across Tristan’s face, stilling his hands where he buttoned his shirt.
“Why do you give a shit who warms your queen's bed. That is surely none of your concern. It is never a mistake to enjoy the pleasure of a woman’s body, drawing out her moans, hearing her scream my name.”
Alex’s anger snapped. She lunged at Tristan, fists flying.
He let her hit him, once, twice, the second splitting his bottom lip.
On the third swing, he caught her fist in his hand, halting her attack.
They were inches from each other, the unleashed fury in Alex’s eyes unabated.
Tristan leaned in and quietly whispered in her ear.
“That is enough.”
She jerked her hand, attempting to get out of his grasp, desperately fending off the tears that pooled in her eyes. Tristan had gone icy, his emotions frozen on his face, just watching her as she struggled to gain control of herself.
“Let me go.” Alex rasped out, through gritted teeth.
“No.”
“Gods damn it, let me go!” Bucking against his hold, she was surprised by his strength.
“No. Not until you’re ready to talk civilly, stop attacking me, and keep your voice down. Unless you want this room flooded with guards.”
The fight went out of her. This wasn’t how she had wanted this to go, even if she had known deep down that it would end this way.
Tristan must have taken her stillness as acceptance and let out a breath. “I have something for you.”
Alex started to speak but he held up a finger, surprised with herself when she didn’t continue. Letting go of her with one hand, he reached into his top nightstand drawer and pulled out a small envelope, holding it out to her.
“This was delivered to me shortly after we got word of Queen Rivka’s disappearance. My only direction was to see that you, and you alone, received it.”
Alex snatched the letter from him, turning it over in her hands.
The seal was broken, but Rivka’s swirling handwriting adorned the front.
Gently pulling the note from inside, Alex unfolded it.
She instantly recognized it as the missing page from her book.
Rivka’s handwriting scrawled across the page…
What did it mean? Sacrifices? Trust? Faith? I HAD trusted her, and what had it gotten me? And she wants me to “have faith in this.” Have faith in what? In her? In the book? Faith in HIM? Not damned likely. Why leave the note with no information? This tells me nothing.
A pressure built in her throat, the pain and loss brightened and constricted. Growling in frustration, she pushed past Tristan, pacing the length of his room.
“What is this supposed to mean? Where are they, Tristan? Please tell me that you know something!”
Tristan watched as she paced, firing questions at him but not giving him a chance to get a word in edgewise.
Her gut told her that he knew. She wasn’t entirely sure of what had really happened between him and Rivka.
How long they’d been together, if they even were.
Rivka hadn’t told her. Did she expect him to tell her? Was that why she was there?
“Alexandria.” He spoke softly, scattering her thoughts.
She stopped her pacing, turning to face him. Her anguish evident in her every move.
“I know why you’re here and I know that you are angry with me. I cannot tell you where your queen or her king consort have gone. I have not seen either of them since the Treaty Ball.”
Alex didn’t know whether to believe him or not but she honestly didn’t have much choice. The note still clutched in her hand had suggested it, but she was having trouble seeing through her hatred of him, through the jealousy and pain of betrayal.
“But there is more you need to know.” Tristan looked hesitant as he spoke.
Suddenly, a loud commotion rang throughout the palace.
They knew she was there. Time to go. Alex ran.
“Wait!” Tristan called after her but there was no way she was letting him get her captured.
She had to get out of there quickly. Without a parting glance at Tristan, she darted through the palace corridors, her boots skimming the polished marble as the shouts of the guards echoed behind her.
Alex twisted through side corridors, down the two flights of stairs she had come up, thankful that the guards had been at the opposite end of the hall, though she was sure she’d been seen. Her breath was sharp in her chest. Thank Fari, she could see the garderobe ahead of her.
Shit. My satchel! She had left it upstairs, forgotten in their scuffle. There was no way she could leave without her pack now that it was all the supplies she had left. With little time to spare, she ducked inside and snatched her pack from where she had left it and burst out the back door.
She vaulted over the low walls concealing the door, melding into the shadows, cursing the wretched dress that she had on. It was only slowing her down. For the moment though, she was free, hidden in the hush of the vacant courtyard.
But the reprieve didn’t last. Guards slammed out of the exit. They hadn’t yet called to close the main gate; she could still get free. Quietly thanking the rigorous training regime she kept, her legs kept the quick pace easily as she neared the gate.
Dressed as she was, she hoped that the guards were back far enough that none of them would recognize her, although the braid was kind of a giveaway.
Shit. The guards on either side of the gate were lazily dozing in the early morning light.
She was through and running, straight towards the town before they had their blades in their hands, hoping to lose the ones following her amongst the citizens.
A sharp cry rang out as she slipped into the crowded market.
Guards pushed through stalls, overturning displays of jewelry and racks of silk scarves.
Damn, they were persistent! Alex kept her head low, weaving between startled merchants, on her way to the edge of the city toward the supply wagons that would soon depart.
She skidded to a halt; the damn wagons were swarmed with guards.
They were stopping every single one to check its contents.
Looking for her, no doubt. Sliding behind a stall, Alex dropped her pack, digging out her leathers.
She quickly changed clothes, discarding the attendant's dress and ripping down her braid, letting her hair loose.
Donning the pack again, she started walking, tempering her speed, keeping an attentive watch all around, edging the outskirts of the remaining supply wagons.
She had to figure out what she was going to do next.
Tristan had been no help. She couldn’t join her battalion, as they were already sailing to the Morrows after the stolen ship.
There really was only one person she could think of that could help her, who she could truly trust, who might have the answers she urgently needed, but damn if she wasn’t dreading the journey to get to him.
A yell rose from behind her. Daring a glance, Alex saw a guard break through the crowd of merchants, running in her direction.
She bolted again, abandoning stealth for speed, heart pounding as she crossed the boundary into the forest. The trees swallowed her up, thick with pine and mist. The city faded behind her.
The guards' shouts fell away as she ran.
So much for taking a ship. Alex was undeniably good at sneaking in and out of anywhere as long as no one knew she was coming, but at this point the dock would be crawling with guards and every ship would be held and searched.
Resigned to the only choice she had left, she would have to hike all the way down the west side of the Seoid Mountains to the Kalmia Province, on her way to Brynn.
It was going to be a long, frigid journey.
She would need to gather more supplies, as she had lost her satchel.
She had a few things in her pack but it wouldn’t last her the full trip.
Slowing to a walk, Alex glanced skyward.
The crisp, wet smell of snow was in the air.
Kiel save me, please let this weather hold until I’m off this Gods damned mountain.