Chapter 5 Carys
Carys
As soon as we clear the door, the guard closes it behind us. I take a deep breath and it’s a big mistake, because tears immediately sting my eyes. Callum discreetly nudges my arm. “Let’s go,” he urges gently.
I try to swallow around the lump in my throat as I fall into step beside him.
We backtrack through the maze of corridors until we finally enter the concourse.
I focus on my breathing, blocking out everything and everyone.
No weakness. I’m a formidable, unperturbed image of frigidity.
Beside me, Callum’s posture is rigid and intimidating.
No one dares to approach us.
Good.
We stop at my bedchamber door and Callum dips his head toward me, his face calculating.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“No …” I can’t take my eyes off him, the heat of disappointment and anger in my blood morphing into a very different warmth.
I need to get my mind off the situation with my mother.
My fingers tangle in the black trim of Callum’s maroon livery jacket, and my lips lift in a small smile. “I have some time to burn …”
Callum’s gaze drops to my lips, and he clenches his sword hilt as though he isn’t sure what else to do with his hand. “I … should send for Ellynne and Lowri …” The intensity in his eyes says something else. He doesn’t dare to touch me though, even with my grasp on the front of his uniform.
“I don’t need Ellynne or Lowri.” I take his hands and place them on my waist before running my fingers through his blond hair. “Right now, I need you.”
He glances around for a moment—we both know that someone else should guard my door in the meanwhile. Yet he opens my door with a grin on his irresistible lips, and I reciprocate as we step into my bedchamber.
A while later, I’m choosing a dress that’s easy for me to put on with minimal assistance. I glance over my bare shoulder as Callum buckles his sword belt. His powerful back straightens, his features hardening again. All evidence of lust disappears. “I’ll call for your ladies,” he says.
Welcome back, sentinel Callum. I shake my head. “No.”
He blinks and scratches his chin.
I step into a cobalt blue dress and pull it up over my narrow hips, then slip my arms into the long, tapered sleeves and turn my back to Callum. “Just button me up and I’m set.”
As adept as he was at taking the other dress off, he fastens this one just as easily. Once he’s finished, I slide my hands over my hair, hoping to tame any frizz. “How do I look?”
That sparkle momentarily returns to his face. “Beautiful.”
I can’t help but smile. “Flatterer.”
He grabs my shoes and I sit on the bed to slip them on. Callum drops to his knees in front of me and takes over the task, tightening the buckle perhaps a bit more taut than necessary. He glances up at me. “It’s nearly shift change.”
I frown. Not that I have anything against Tiernan; in fact, I hold him in the highest regard. But for obvious reasons, Callum is my favorite.
“I have time to get you to the infirmary and back. Shall we?” He stands, straightening his livery before extending his hand to me.
Glass shatters as I enter the fragrant infirmary, and Alys swears loudly.
“That’s rather foul language for a lady,” I call out with a grin.
Kneeling on the floor beside shards of glass in a clear puddle, the head healer lifts her face to me. A cheeky grin graces her full lips. “When have I ever claimed to be a lady, dear Carys?”
The new apprentice halts in her rush to Alys’s side and drops into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness,” she says with a polite smile.
Another healer whose name I can never remember, pauses in the middle of putting fresh linens on a cot. He bows and I nod to him. The infirmary isn’t huge: eight cots in two rows of four, large windows with drawn curtains, and rows of shelves with various medicinal supplies fill the moderate space.
The apprentice grabs a cloth from a basket on one of the counters that line the wall and returns to Alys’s side. “I’ve got it, Lady Alys.”
Alys hesitates briefly but stands and removes her apron from her full-bodied figure, hanging it on a nearby hook.
“Right,” she says in that sunshiny tone of hers.
She thanks the apprentice and approaches me, regarding me with grey eyes that stand out beautifully against her mahogany skin.
A huge smile spreads across her round face and it’s so contagious that I cannot resist smiling back.
“Alright, dear one. Shall we proceed to your room?”
“Yes.” I stare over her shoulder at the new healer’s apprentice. “I wasn’t aware that you were getting an apprentice.”
“Neither was I,” she says, keeping her voice down. “But with the recent disease outbreaks across Mainland, Lord Iywan thought I could use the additional help.”
“Do we have any more information on that yet?”
The apprentice woman is working unhurriedly, her sidelong stare making me clench my jaw to avoid telling her to stop eavesdropping.
“I’m afraid not,” says Alys. “It’s very odd.”
The apprentice is still listening. I want to throw something at her. “You, apprentice girl. Don’t you have other tasks to do?”
“I do, Your Highness.”
Alys tilts her head into my view, brows lifted. “Be nice.” Her voice is quiet, melodious.
“I am.” I flash her a strained smile. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. In private.” This time I keep my voice lowered.
Alys nods. “Briony, I’ll be right back. Please help Vaughn dose out the serums.”
“Yes, Lady Alys.”
Alys presses her hand gently against the small of my back. “Let’s walk.”
As we step out into the hall again, Callum flashes a charming smile at Alys. “You look well, Lady Alys.”
Big flirt.
Alys laughs lightly. “You are too kind, Callum.”
Heat crawls into my chest. Alys is in her fifties and Callum is twenty-five. There’s absolutely nothing romantic there. Still, it takes me a moment to ward off the envy. Technically he can flirt with whomever he wants but still …
We set off for my bedchamber, Callum on one side of me, Alys on the other.
“So, what do you need to discuss?” Alys asks.
Right. “I know my mother is in pain, but I’d prefer if she is not sedated when I’m scheduled to visit.”
I slow my pace as fine lines appear between Alys’s brows.
“You didn’t know.”
She shakes her head. For a moment, there’s silence, then Alys asks, “Have you been working on grounding?”
“Yes.” I smile as convincingly as I can, but Alys always sees right through my lies.
“Carys.” She tucks a few loose waves of her salt-and-pepper hair into the huge bun at the back of her head.
“I don’t have time.”
“You need to find the time, dear one. And remember—”
“—deep breathing and positive thoughts throughout the day,” I interject. “I know, Alys.”
Alys wrinkles her nose and pats my arm. “Are you ready for the Feast?”
This subject is even more annoying than the apprentice. I frown. “Of course not. I can’t even find the right dress.”
“Is that really what is bothering you?”
“It’s the damn dress and this idiotic tradition. My mother is practically knocking on Lugda’s door and they’re pushing me into marriage. As if my mother hasn’t ruled without a king by her side for years now!”
“You are the last heir,” she reminds me.
I stop dead in my tracks. “Are you actually defending this tradition?”
“Not defending, dear, just stating the facts. The same facts the Council is going to throw at you if you resist.”
I know that I’m the last heir. My brother died when I was only five—sixteen years ago, but it feels like an eternity.
Following my brother’s death, I remember my mother having two other pregnancies, but no live children to account for.
Like the goddess Rhianu had decided my mother couldn’t be trusted to keep more children alive.
If the gods even have such power in this twisted world anymore.
Perhaps it was just rotten luck.
I cannot remember how my brother died. Sometimes he dominates my dreams. His body falling away, unmoving. My father succumbed to an illness when I was thirteen, shortly after a distressing incident I wish to forget. We’ve theorized that the same illness is now holding my mother hostage.
By the time we arrive at my bedchamber door, my dark-haired guard, Tiernan, is already guarding it. “Your Highness,” he says, his strict, angular eyes not even showing a hint of a smile.
“Hello, Major Kilkenny,” I respond just as formally, if only to annoy him.
Tiernan is two years older than Callum and about my height. He’s not as broad-shouldered or brawny as Callum, but Ostanha have mercy, his lean, powerful body is damn lethal. I’ve watched him spar in the training grounds—his skills with almost any weapon are scarily impressive.
He salutes Callum, who returns the gesture before bowing to me and then marching off.
As Tiernan opens the door, Alys and I walk through. I stride across the chamber to my bed as the door closes, and I collapse onto my mattress with a huff.
Gossamer canopy drapes stare back at me as I turn my face up toward the ceiling. “How are we supposed to talk anymore with Byney—”
“—Briony.”
“—watching all the time? It’ll be suspicious if you’re constantly coming to my bedchamber.”
Alys shrugs. “Then let her be suspicious.” She makes her way toward the desk where a kettle and a tankard has already been set—likely by Ellynne—a small clay cup beside it.
Steam wafts from the cup as Alys pours hot water into it.
She pulls a small vial from her pocket as I approach and empties tea leaves into the cup.
“Where’s the honey?” I ask.
“We’re awaiting a delivery from Wynn Odhran.”
Eagerness floods my belly and I clear my throat. “So, what’s the status of things?” I ask, lowering my voice though there’s no one else around.
She lowers hers as well. “The final Quarterly Raid has been completed. There are more captives than there has been in a while, including an entire caravan of young ones.”
A chill cuts through me, all anticipation of Wynn’s arrival forgotten.
This should not be happening. The fear of Otherworldly activity has gotten out of hand—suspicions are higher than ever.
But how do I override beliefs that are so deeply rooted in Erleyan ancient history?
How do I get the Council to see the error of our ways?
“We’ve gotten word there’s going to be an unscheduled raid on the Big Three villages in a few weeks. An alert has already been sent through rebel networks—they’re planning to intercept and rescue as many innocents as possible.”
“Lierwen be with them.”
Alys nods though I know she doesn’t believe in the Protector, the Father of the gods, or any old gods of Erleya for that matter. Just as I don’t believe that she’s telling me everything. I’m not even certain how she knows all that she does.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“No.” Her tone is definitive, though she avoids my gaze. There’s no point in pushing her though; she tells me what I need to know. It would likely be dangerous for me to know more than what she’s already told me.
“There’s a council meeting soon,” I say. “I’m not going to be taken by surprise, am I?”
“I’ve told you all I can, Carys. Now …” She lifts the small cup, holding it out to me.
My face crumples—I have to drink this disgusting tea without honey. I peer into the cup at the amber liquid inside, the tealeaves sunken to the bottom.
“It won’t be that bad,” Alys assures me. “One gulp. You’ll hardly taste it.”
Setting my resolve, I swallow it down with one gulp just before the tealeaves could escape into my mouth. The liquid hits the back of my tongue, the bitterness making me gag slightly. I set the empty cup down so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t crack.
Alys chuckles. “It’s a fertility suppressant, dear one, not a casual afternoon tea. It’s not that bad.” She pours me a fresh cup of water. “You can’t always have heaps of honey at your disposal.”
I don’t see why not, but I guzzle down the water, desperate to get the bitterness out of my mouth.
Alys exhales loudly, a smile on her face as she shakes out her arms as though preparing for a fight. “Alright, grounding time. I’m afraid that temper of yours is showing itself very often lately.”
“Because I’m surrounded by arseheads.” I shrug and Alys laughs.
“Be that as it may, there will come a day when you’ll have to remain calm despite the arseheads around you. You’re to be queen one day. You can’t fight fire with fire. You need to learn to quell the flames.”
“Hopefully it’ll be a while still before I’m queen.” My mother is a fighter. She can defeat this mystery illness.
Alys’s lips curve upward, but it’s that poor-Carys smile that leaves her grey eyes dull. I know it too well. “In the meantime … You know the routine. Relax your mind, plant your awareness firmly on what your body is doing and not on the world around you. Ready?”
I roll my eyes. “Ready.”