Chapter 38
LIANA
“And citrine is used for?” I say conversationally. My face is my own again, no longer weighed down by the thick glamour.
“Creativity, problem solving. Often given to those looking for success,” she recites.
“Very good,” I murmur against the clink of her instruments as she works. Vesilane starts to hum, sifting through herbs. Alongside her bottles, I’ve placed a collection of crystals for her to memorize and incorporate into her practice.
She was always smart, even as a young girl.
I look away from her to the stone in my hands, the one I’d given to Ayla Daecaryn when she left to help Mrath.
We will be in the city by tomorrow evening, the message reads.
My gut is in knots, despite the cheerfulness of my lodging companion.
Castien was not able to find the seed that she had prepared to put on the throne.
The thing that would turn the power back to the right god, and it is just gone.
A guard could’ve taken it. It could’ve been thrown away or destroyed—or perhaps simply fallen somewhere around the palace.
I don’t know how Mrath will solidify her rule without it.
And apart from all that, so many women have died in the last few days. So many of Mrath’s troops.
I know she brings an army with her, but I mourn the lives of those I traveled with.
Taking a deep breath, I lean back in the soft, padded chair of Castien’s luxurious home. When he’d said “safe house,” I’d pictured a shack somewhere.
I should’ve known. Castien prefers things lush and beautiful.
Looking around the house, with its thick furs, deep yellows, greens, and blacks, I can picture him lounging around this place so easily. I imagine he enjoys it here.
How lovely that must be to enjoy with Vesilane.
Though I am comfortable in this chair, I know I don’t quite fit in this scene. I never have. Not fully.
Right now, I am content to let Vesilane work while I think and wait for him to return. He’ll want to know about Mrath as soon as possible.
As if my thoughts call him, he enters the room with a flourish of inky darkness. Vesilane smiles at him, and he returns the gesture. She always made him so happy. Strange for a man of frowns and death.
“Forgive my late return. I had yet another meeting with the king. He grows desperate, and there is only one of his little trials left for his traitors.” He wrings his hands, pulling off black gloves before removing a thick black cloak.
He turns to his daughter. “How are you, my flower?” he asks joyfully, glancing at where I sit in the chair. His eyes make me stand, suddenly uncomfortable sitting in front of him.
“Good. Liana gave me all of these,” she gestures to the crystals.
He smiles. “I’m sure they will do well in your work.”
She smiles. “They already have.”
“Excellent,” he says, once again meeting my eyes.
Vesilane notices the shift in her father’s attention and smiles, going back to her work.
That’s when Castien crosses the room, approaching me.
My instincts to hurt this man are strong, but I resist them, clenching and unclenching my fists.
“This place seems safe enough,” I say, looking around the common room once again.
Castien smiles. “I know.”
“There was word,” I say before he can speak and say some utterly charming thing that puts me at ease. “Mrath is on the move back to the city. She will be here by tomorrow evening.”
His smile fades.
“And so the crown passes to another,” he murmurs.
I press my lips together. “I am not so sure. She’s failed against him twice now. She’s hemorrhaging troops.”
Castien nods.
“I have not fought yet,” he says.
Blood rushes in my ears. I remember very well what he is capable of. The death and destruction executed by his hand has haunted the world for centuries.
“Are you ready for that?” I ask.
He smiles.
“I have two very good reasons to return to the battlefield.”
Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs my hand. The contact zings through me, innocent and familiar and charged.
I suck in a breath.
“Father, I’ve never seen you fight. It should be a sight to behold,” Vesilane says from her table.
“And you won’t, my flower. You will stay here with Liana, where it is safe.”
She seems sad, but doesn’t push.
Hopefully, Mrath will win. I do not have the means to rescue Arlet and Vann myself.
“I need to send a message to my king and queen,” I stumble, pulling my hand away and hurrying to my room. Dark eyes burn the back of my head, but I continue to ignore them as I ascend the stairs to the second-floor balcony, which leads to a hallway of guest rooms.
No sooner than I shut the door, there is a loud noise from the living room. I rush out just in time to see flashes of silver and green.
The Kingsguard.
I slink into the shadows when another figure strolls in casually. Thick, velvet fabric trails behind King Arion. Something unpleasant curls in my gut. I had barely acknowledged him during his visit.
And now I wish I could claw his eyes out.
I push myself into the shadows, covering anything on me that might glow or twinkle.
Vesilane and Castien both stand, staring at the king intruding on a place that was meant to be secret.
“My King,” Castien says as he and his daughter bow.
I think of all those years, all those measures he took to maintain his privacy. How did the king know where to find him?
“I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to come and pay you a visit after today’s trial,” Arion says.
I strain from the corner, trying to catch every word.
“Not at all, Your Majesty. It is our honor,” Castien says. His voice is icy. Guarded.
This is bad. Very bad.
Vesilane shifts, as if she were putting on a costume. Suddenly, she is no longer the wild-haired young woman mixing potions, she is polished and submissive.
The king turns his sight on her.
“My, that is quite the collection of herbs and…gems? Such variety. Where did you get them?”
My heart races. I shouldn’t have given her anything yet, should’ve kept my jewels to myself.
Castien steps in front of her.
“I bring them from my travels,” Castien bites out. “Vesilane, go to your room.”
She gives both her father and the king one last look, and then, after a subtle nod from Arion, she retreats.
Castien stands in front of Arion and his four kingsguard like a damn before rushing water. I hold my breath, not wanting to ruin anything.
“She’s lovely, Castien. You should be proud. Perhaps, once the human is dead, we might make an arrangement,” Arion muses, walking around the space, running his hand over the leather chairs and soft furs.
“What can I do for you, my king?” Castien says, not taking the bait.
His defensiveness might be a mistake, but I am not one to tell him.
Arion sits down on the same stuffed chair where I had been resting minutes before.
“During the trial, I noticed something strange with my wife,” he spits the last word as if it were covered in poison.
“Oh?” Castien says, moving to a small cart filled with crystal goblets and elven wine.
“She seemed to be in perfect health, despite her wounds from the day before. She fought like someone who had… assistance.”
“What kind of assistance?” Castien asks.
I wonder the same thing. It would be foolish for me to attend the trials. Has Castien been helping Arlet?
The action strikes me as odd. He does nothing altruistically.
“Healing. Perhaps even some sort of potion?”
Fuck.
“And you think that her troll friend does not have the ability to do that?” Castien retorts.
Arion laughs. Then he leans forward. One of his Kingsguard steps to his side, and draws his blade.
My heart stops. The stone inside of me sings, as if it could see exactly what kind of chaos and destruction could explode out of this room. Blood would soak the carpets. And Vesilane? I need to get closer to her room.
“Very convincing. You are quite charming. You come to my court with power, with the offering of help. Everyone told me that you would never work with me, an elven king, after what happened to your family.” Arion tilts his head to the side, and I begin to slowly creep in the shadows of the upper hall toward where Vesilane stays. “And maybe they were right.”
“My king—”
“We have proof that you visited the dungeons, without authorization, after the interrogation.”
Castien betrays no emotion.
Good. Let them see nothing, I think, still lurking in the shadows.
“I know someone has betrayed me. So tell me, is it you?”
Castien laughs.
“You are right that it would be…ironic for me to serve you after the past. But I am not your traitor.” Castien smiles. He holds all the confidence in the world—he always has. “In fact, I know who it is. Someone who has visited the dungeons often, and your wife’s bedchambers even more frequently.”
King Arion straightens. “Spit the name out or lose your head.”
Castien’s smile grows stronger somehow.
“Warden Thorne.”
My mind races. Thorne the traitor? He took Arlet—it is only right that he should pay for what he’s done.
The king thinks on the response, then stands.
“In respect for all you have done for me in the last month, I will grant you the kindness of checking,” he says. “But if you are lying, I will use everything I have to obliterate you, your family, and your court.”
The shadows in the room bend, shifting closer to Castien. His pleasant features twist into a scowl.
“I would not come into my home with threats, Your Majesty. My kindness has limits,” he drawls. Low.
Dangerous.
I swear, I almost see Arion flinch.
“We shall see each other soon, Castien,” Arion says. And then they brush out of the room. I retreat back into the shadows as they run. I notice then that they seem to wrap around me. Caressing me, as if Castien knew I was watching.
“Till then,” Castien responds. Then he turns to where I stand, and smiles with a wink.
I nod, and he turns off to find Vesilane.
As it has always been.