22 #3
“She was not hung with them. Whether she died, escaped, or was taken prisoner—I do not know. I went to another border gate and used my artist’s license to get through. I had to tell you… I thought you would want to know.”
Vawn is ominously quiet for a long moment, and then he gets up, bracing both palms on the table.
“Thank you for coming so far, Cordall, and for riding across such perilous terrain. I am sure these kind rulers will provide you with safe harbor. My Lieges, if you would excuse me for a short time while I compose myself. I will return shortly to continue our conversation.”
“Of course,” murmurs Remin, and Roxalin flutters her hand to him and chirps, “Our condolences.”
Vawn heads for his room, and I follow him in silence. After closing the door, he remains with one hand braced against it, his head hung and his shoulders bowed. “You must understand, more than ever, why I have to do this.”
No.
I don’t know what to say. How to respond. Where to put my hands. I can’t flee this problem, or stab it to death. I can’t activate a glyph for it.
“Forsythia.” The prince’s voice is infinitely gentle, absent of all the charming humor and wicked seduction that it usually holds.
“They killed Lord Kaenan and the guards who helped us escape. Hung them on the wall as a warning, to frighten me. It must not go unanswered. And if they took Lady Kaenan captive, I must get her back. If she is dead, I need to bury her. She was more a mother to me than the woman who birthed me.”
Still, I say nothing.
“I’m out of time and options,” he says. “I will marry Remin and Roxalin here, in this palace. I will use their army to take back Belavrin. I will give the Red Mountains to the Tularesk people, and I will reign alongside the Twins. As long as I take care of them, they will let me rule as I wish. Maybe after all this is settled, I can separate myself from them. But for now, this is the only path I can see.”
I refuse to speak or to look at him, not while he carves the ground from beneath my feet and sends me crashing into darkness.
“Say something,” he grits out.
I could tell him how I feel, what I want. It wouldn’t change what he has to do.
“Syth,” Vawn whispers.
He’s asking for encouragement, for understanding. For my seal of approval.
But I’m not a royal responsible for a whole kingdom, or a dignitary who can advise him. I am only a bodyguard, and a shitty one at that.
Run away with me. But that is a selfish request, one that puts my needs over those of all the Exemplar’s prisoners, one that dishonors the lives he has taken.
Vawn is trying to be noble. He’s attempting to be a good king, one who cares about his people. He doesn’t want them to be ruled by a murderer.
For once in his life, he’s setting aside what he wants and trying to do the right thing.
What kind of person would I be to dissuade him from that?
So I craft four careful words, the only grace I can give him. “Do what you must.”
Vawn takes a deep, bracing breath. Then he opens the door and lunges out of the room.
I wait for several minutes for him to turn around and run back to me. When he doesn’t, I speak to the open door. “Do what you must, but I’ll be damned if I stay and watch you destroy yourself.”
Silence. Nothing.
I stride over to the carpet’s case and unlatch it. Severin unfurls lazily, taking in the state of the room. “Good heavens. What is this hovel?”
“The palace of the Twin Lieges. I need you to spy on the prince for me. I’ll take you to a door, and you must slither under it and tuck yourself behind something, like a clock or a pile of objects.
Listen to the bargain that the prince strikes with the Twins, and when he has signed it, report back to me with the details. ”
“Of course,” says the carpet. “But may I ask—”
“If you ask, I will cry.”
“Oh.” His tassels shiver uncomfortably. “We can’t have that.”
Once I’ve delivered him beneath the door of the clock chamber, I return to Vawn’s room and re-pack my satchel.
I ring the bell and request a little food—a simple portion of bread and cheese—which is brought to me within the hour.
I tuck it safely among my things and fill my flask with water. Then I wait.
After a time, something flaps against the bedroom door, and I open it to let the carpet in.
“The Twin Lieges are sending scouts to survey the numbers and strength of the Exemplar’s forces,” Severin tells me.
“Tomorrow evening, the prince will marry the Twin Lieges here at the palace. They’ve asked Heim Cordall to do a wedding portrait of the three of them.
The prince will spend the next week providing glyph sets to as many Tularesk soldiers as possible, after which the Tularesk forces will invade Belavrin, aiming to retake it for the prince and his new consorts.
Once they have secured the kingdom, the people of Tularesk will be given a northern portion of the Red Mountains near Anyssir Castle.
There are some additional details involved, small caveats and such. Would you like me to continue?”
“No, thank you.” I sit down limply on the sofa. “And Vawn signed the deal.”
“Yes. He is betrothed to the Lieges.”
“Right.” I shut my eyes for a second, then grab my satchel and rise. “We have to go.”
“Are you sure that—”
“Severin!” My voice sharpens with a pain I can’t hide any longer. “Please.”
His tassels slump, but he says, “Very well.”
On my way out of the palace, the servants seem inclined to stop me, but when I tell them I’m on a private wedding errand for the prince, they provide me with furs and refrain from questioning me any further.
I mount the carpet, and we soar away into the dull gray sky, higher and faster than any carpet of this kingdom could manage.
I’m not sure where I’m going. Perhaps to Anyssir Castle, to find out what happened to the Lady. Perhaps to Xarsi or Kredissia, to start a new life and forget everything to do with a certain naughty prince. Perhaps I’ll even fly to Kyr and cut off the head of the Exemplar.
Perhaps I will drop into a sinkhole and disappear.
It doesn’t really matter where I go. I made Vawn a promise once, and I’m fulfilling it. Selfishly, foolishly, I hope he’ll understand what my departure means.
Either way, I cannot remain at his side if I hope to stay sane.
He must do his duty. I’ve already done mine.