Chapter 9 #2
Nakir walked away, leaving Alethea and Balthasar alone once again.
She took comfort in Bal’s massive form and the way it dwarfed hers.
He was like a shield to the world. The spymaster withdrew a piece of bread from a satchel and offered it to her.
She ruefully accepted it and tried to nibble away, hoping her stomach would quit clawing at her.
They sat in silence for a while before she mounted her stolen horse.
Alethea kept her chin tucked, staring at the horse’s white mane in the hopes no one would notice to approach her as they began the long journey back to the encampment.
She glanced over her shoulder a few times, in shock that her mother hadn’t sent out any of her guards or even opened the gates.
“She’s not coming out,” she murmured. Had Zenobia heard her daughter was just on the other side of those gates?
Or her enemy? By now, had rumors circulated back to her that she and Nakir were working together?
Did Alethea even care? The questions flooded her as she spurred her horse onward, riding next to Balthasar at the back of the caravan, watching the fifty people ahead of her begin a journey that would change their lives.
The way her life had been changed.
She spotted Yannis in the crowd and felt another wave of guilt.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget the pain she had caused, while other times, it haunted her into the late hours of the night.
At least at the back of the crowd, she could hopefully go unnoticed.
The pace was slow, since so many were on foot, but Alethea didn’t mind—though she had lost sight of Nakir sometime after they set off.
“What is it about that man that has such a hold on you?” Balthasar asked after a few hours.
She took in a deep breath to steel herself against whatever judgment was about to come her way. A part of her wanted to brush it off or tell him she didn’t want to talk about it. But she knew the only shame greater than committing a terrible act was hiding from it.
“His nephew is in the dungeons because of me. After my father died, I used to sneak out to visit the city. It was the only time I could feel free. Eventually, I learned how Hyelea’s poorest were forced to live.
It was hard for me to see children hungry when I lived in such luxury.
So I... I started to steal things from the castle.
Bread, wine, cheese. But every day, I came back and they were still hungry.
I was so angry... I just wanted to help.
So I... took other things. Trinkets. Gems. My own jewelry.
I somehow thought they could sell it at the market and use it to buy food.
I had no idea the value of some of the things I stole, or how they might cause suspicion of the people I was bringing them to. ”
Alethea closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head at how foolish she’d been.
“Philip was selling one of my necklaces at a jeweler’s and was arrested by the guards after the artisan recognized it as a piece commissioned for me for my Name Day.
He was convicted of theft from the royal family.
I tried to speak out, but when I did...” Her throat seized.
“It didn’t matter. My mother told me she hoped I’d learned my lesson. ”
Balthasar was quiet for a moment, and she waited to hear his judgment.
“When I was impersonating one of your mother’s guards, I watched you walk down the hall of the dungeons.
I sensed empathy and fear, but the moment you passed the last prisoner, you were overcome with so much shame it nearly knocked me over.
I’ve met murderers with less remorse than you felt. ”
Alethea’s cheeks burned, eyes watering. “That was him. He’s been in there ever since. That was five years ago.”
“Have you ever thought things could be different if you were queen?”
She shook her head, as if by doing so she could banish those thoughts. “I do not want to be queen.”
“You don’t want to be your mother. There’s a difference.”
“No,” Alethea tried to tell him. “I’ve seen what it means to be Queen of Lenorea. The ministers, her advisors... I’m not cut out for that.” She let out a harsh laugh. “I’ve been a part of the rebellion for a day, and I’ve already made a mess of things. I’m not a leader, Balthasar.”
He seemed to consider what she’d told him. A part of her hoped he’d accept her word for what it was.
“I haven’t told you about how I came to work with Nakir,” he began, and she was relieved for the subject change.
She stared at the man now, realizing she had no idea how old he was, or where he was from. Dawes had said his full name—Balthasar Corvinus—and that had tickled something in the back of her memory, but she’d never pried deeper than that.
“My father was a lord of Ephesus and served under Goran Arranil. I was next in line and the only Corvinus left. I was sixteen when Nakir was born. I’ll never forget the day my father told me we had a new heir to the Lenorean throne.
We didn’t know much about Aeshlien back then.
There were so few of them. It was all too easy for Aikat to convince the kingdom Nakir’s birth meant the gods were displeased with the Hasan family.
I was raised pious—we had altars to Anya in every wing of our manor.
My parents were convinced of their righteousness and were easily swayed, but I was a hard-headed teenager and full of fire.
I defended the Hasan family, and because of that, I was banished.
My title and inheritance were revoked. My father gave me a single gold piece as he put me on a ship headed to Rai’Sharr, and I considered myself a lucky man for it. ”
If Balthasar had been sixteen when Nakir was born, that would make him nearly fifty years old.
Alethea gaped at him in shock, unable to understand how he hardly looked a day over thirty.
His face was smooth and ageless. Maybe he just grew broader instead of aging?
That would explain his massive form. But she could see it in the way he carried himself, so poised and in control.
He’d gained that ability after years of finding his own way.
“I received a small amount of basic training as a mage, but, like Oracles, Empaths are so rare that most of what I learned came from studying rare books in temples across Rai’Sharr.
I found myself taking on jobs no one else wanted or could handle.
Eventually, I made my way into espionage, working for whoever had enough gold to pay for my services.
I spent the next two decades filling my pockets and honing my skills...
until I met a certain young Aeshlien on a mission to avenge his parents.
We worked together in Rai’Sharr for years before we finally came back to Lenorea.
“He was... well, he was a different man then, but not too different from what you see now. His parents had raised him well. He took after his father in a lot of ways... I can still see Lazaros in him. You see, Nakir had many mentors. His parents, Goran Arranil, me, to name a few. Before Nakir was your age, he’d been instructed in the ways of statecraft, magic, leadership, diplomacy.
He was raised to be a king.” Balthasar stopped, turning his head to meet her eye.
“You, Alethea, were raised to be a tool. It’s no wonder you don’t consider yourself a leader. You were never given the chance.”
Alethea swallowed, her stomach twisting as she tried to reject the truth in his words. She forced herself to look away. “I’ve never really wanted it.”
“I can understand that. But what I saw yesterday was someone who thought they’d made a grave mistake and was willing to risk it all to make it right. That’s a cornerstone of a great leader.”
Alethea fought the emotion welling within her. Balthasar was trying to give her an opportunity for redemption, but she could see no part of her that was worthy of it. “I wouldn’t know.”
Why did he care? Why was he trying to convince her of this anyway? She was meant to be free of all this when it was over.
Alethea nearly jumped out of her skin as she became aware of Nakir’s presence behind them, the conversation too distracting. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alethea’s vision flashed for a moment, and she gripped her saddle tightly.
“Fifteen soldiers ride from the city. They’re armed and ordered to take no prisoners.”
The light faded from her eyes, and she blinked back tears. Alethea had gotten a single glance at them, each on horseback, riding at breakneck speed. They could be on them at any moment.
She stared at them both. “They’re coming.”
Nakir didn’t waste a single precious second. “Kerrigan!”