CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ISI
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ISI
We walked into the sitting area and Trew strode over to check the window. His bodyguard mask had slipped back into place, but there was no missing the tightness in his shoulders or the way his hand never strayed far from his sword hilt.
Someone knocked on the outer door, followed by Mae’s voice. “Your Highness? Your ladies and I are here to help you prepare for lunch.”
“Come in,” I called.
She entered with the others. They curtsied, their expressions carefully neutral.
I let them lead me into the bathing chamber, where I climbed into the bath Lexie had prepared and they washed my hair.
The ritual of preparing for lunch would be my armor. The pale blue gown, the darker blue stones at my throat, and the careful arrangement of my hair transformed me back into the princess I needed to be.
But underneath, I remained the woman who’d discovered her grandfather had torn open the veil between worlds. Whose mother had been murdered for secrets she’d carried to her grave.
When they finished, I studied myself in the mirror. The reflection showed a serene, composed young woman. Beautiful. Delicate. Exactly what Alfred would expect.
Pherin landed on my shoulder, eyeing my elaborate hairstyle with suspicion. Too pretty. Makes good target.
That’s the point, I sent back.
She ruffled her feathers as I strode into the sitting room.
Trew had positioned himself near the door. When our eyes met, I saw everything he couldn’t say aloud. Be careful. Stay sharp. I’m with you.
Another knock rang out, and one of the guards spoke through the panel. “Lord Alfred waits in the green parlor, Your Highness.”
“Thank you. Notify the kitchen staff,” I said. “I’ll join him shortly.”
I squared my shoulders and swept from my chambers with Trew falling into step behind me.
The walk to the parlor felt both too long and too short. My mind raced through everything I hoped to accomplish during this meeting.
The parlor doors stood open, revealing the lord standing near the fireplace. The flames gilded his silver hair and highlighted the sharp angles of his face. He’d dressed in a dark blue silk tunic with golden embroidery, along with dark pants and boots.
When he turned at my entrance, his smile appeared warm enough to be genuine yet controlled enough to maintain distance.
“Your Highness.” He bowed. “Thank you for agreeing to dine with me after such a harrowing night.”
“Lord Alfred.” I walked into the room, allowing him to take my hand and press his lips to my knuckles, his touch cool and impersonal. “Your concern is appreciated, though I assure you I’m quite recovered.”
He studied my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “Most women would still be abed after such trauma. But then, you’ve never been like most women, have you?”
The words could be taken as a compliment or a warning.
“I’ve been fortunate to have an excellent teacher.” I gestured to the table, where servants had laid out an elaborate lunch. “Shall we?”
He held my chair, waiting until I was seated before taking his own place across from me.
Trew took up his position near the door, while the other guards waited outside, in the hall.
Servants poured wine and presented the first course; delicate pastries filled with cheese and herbs. Lord Alfred waited until they withdrew before speaking.
“I must confess, Your Highness, I’ve been deeply troubled by Lord Crestin’s attack.” He lifted his glass, studying the ruby liquid. “To think such violence could breach your castle walls. Your father must be overcome with worry.”
“He’s concerned, naturally.”
“He’s…” The lord’s gaze shot to the floor. “I don’t like to gossip, but your father appears more than a touch worried to me. There are guards everywhere. He’s keeping you under lock and key.” He glanced toward Trew standing near the door. “One might even call his concern…paranoia.”
“I’m sure he’s just being careful.” I took a careful sip of wine, buying myself time to figure out his intent. “As for last night, our guards are investigating the incident.”
“As they should.” He set down his own glass, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ve been questioned myself. Standard procedure, of course, though I can’t imagine what they hope to learn. Crestin and I were not close.”
“It must be unsettling to know someone you shared a table with harbored such zealotry.”
“An interesting characterization.”
“You used the term yourself last night.”
“So I did,” he said. “He called your bloodline tainted, I believe? Strange that he’d use that particular term.”
I kept my expression neutral. “The ravings of a madman. Hardly worth analyzing.”
“Perhaps.” He took a bite of pastry, chewing. “Though madmen often speak truths others won’t. It makes one wonder what inspired such vehement conviction in him.”
The subtle threat in his words made my pulse quicken. He was already probing, testing to see how I’d react to Crestin’s implications about my family.
“My father believes it was politically motivated,” I said. “An attempt to destabilize the court while he’s preparing his campaign against the rebels.”
“Ah yes. The rebels.” Alfred’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m sure King Cyril will be most aggressive in his pursuit of them. From…what I’ve heard, three battalions are mobilizing to advance on the southern border. Quite the show of force.”
He knew about the army, but it wasn’t a secret that my sister had supposedly been murdered by the rebels and that my father had shouted that he’d seek revenge.
“I know little of military matters,” I said. “My father doesn’t burden me with such concerns.”
“But surely you must have some awareness.” His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass. “A father’s war affects his daughter’s prospects.”
“I trust my father’s judgment in such matters.”
“As you trusted his judgment with Crestin?” The words came soft, almost sympathetic, but I could feel the edge beneath them.
I set down my fork. “Lord Crestin deceived us all.”
“Did he?” Alfred leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Or perhaps he simply revealed what he’d always been, and we failed to see it.”
“Does it truly matter which?”
He shrugged.
Pherin shifted on my shoulder, her tiny talons pricking through my gown. I felt her desire to launch at Alfred’s face, to show him what those delicate claws could do.
Love you, I sent to her, appreciating how fiercely she wanted to protect me.
She settled but remained tense, her head swiveling to track Alfred’s movements.
“I understand you’ve been taught some self-defense skills. Most ladies of the court stick to needlework and dance.”
My pulse jumped, but I kept my expression serene. “Commander Thorne felt I should be able to protect myself.”
“How wise of him.”
“He taught me to survive.”
Lord Alfred’s gaze flickered to Trew, then back to me. “One might wonder why he felt such training was necessary. What threats did he anticipate?”
I picked up my wine glass and studied the contents in the sunlight streaming through the windows on my right. “My father has enemies, as do all kings. I’m heir to the throne. Commander Thorne simply prepared me for what I’d one day face. This is hardly unusual.”
“You’re correct in that. I have also been trained to defend myself from various threats.” He leaned back in his chair. “Have you traveled much throughout the kingdom, Your Highness? Seen the territories where these enemies gather?”
“I’ve traveled some, though my father prefers I remain close to court.”
“Understandable, given the recent events.” He lifted the wine bottle and topped off our glasses. “I’ve found the southern territories particularly fascinating. I believe there are mysteries hidden there.”
My throat tightened. “Such as?”
“The wasteland, for instance.” His tone remained light, almost academic.
“Strange how it appeared so suddenly sixteen years ago. One day, fertile land. The next, a barren scar across the lower part of their kingdom. It keeps advancing in a spotty way, even into their upper territories, and no one seems to know why. Some claim the land wasn’t destroyed but transformed, changed into something else entirely, as if hidden places exist where boundaries grow thin, like doorways between realms, and they simply… allowed the wasteland to seep through.”
I took a small bite of cheese, chewing slowly, while he watched me too carefully, looking for any reaction that might confirm whatever it was he was seeking.
“I was ten years old at that time. I don’t recall my tutors mentioning it. What old stories intrigue you most, my lord?”
He tilted his head, a faint gleam in his eyes. “I’ve read accounts suggesting there may be doors to other realms within this very continent. I believe that truth often hides in stories we dismiss as fantasy. Do you believe there could be doorways between realms?”
I’d passed through a door to enter the Rite of Bonds, and my grandfather had traveled through many, so yes.
“You’re teasing me, now.” I released a light laugh as if I was dismissing his story already. “That sounds like something from children’s tales.”
A stick banged against the window, and we both glanced that way.
“I’m afraid my education focused more on practical matters than ancient philosophy,” I said. “My father considered such pursuits frivolous.”
“Pity. Though perhaps he was right to focus on more immediate concerns. These are dangerous times, after all. Speaking of immediate concerns.” He set down his fork. “Your father seems eager to see you settled. Has he given you a timeline for choosing a husband?”
Something dark and probing rippled through my bond with Pherin, sharpening my sense of his intent, and her talons pricked harder into my shoulder.
“He’s asked me to make a decision within the week.” There was no harm in sharing this information. If I knew my father, he already had.
Alfred’s eyebrows rose. “Why such haste, especially given recent events?”
“A strong alliance would be beneficial during this unsettled time.”