54. Lilias
Lilias
TRYING TO PROTECT THE SNAKE
Acelina frowns at me.
“That can’t possibly be true,” she says.
My chest feels tight; panic buzzes low and frantic in the back of my mind.
“It— It was an accident,” I stammer. “He had Zarek tied to a chair. I just wanted him to leave, I— I forgot about the knife—”
Acelina steps back, still shaking her head.
“Why would you lie for him?” she asks.
I try to pull in a breath. Syvan’s scowling face flashes through my mind. Blood on his teeth. Blood on his clothes.
My hands are shaking. I twist them together and stare at the ground. And, slowly, another feeling bubbles up inside my chest. Acelina doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t think I could murder a prince.
Gods above, am I actually offended by that?
Acelina takes a step closer, then puts her hand on mine. I drag my gaze up to meet her eyes. She’s looking at me in a strange way, like I’m an animal she’s never seen before and she’s trying to determine if I’m going to bite.
“You’re trying to protect the snake?” she finally asks. “After how he treated you?”
She looks down at the ground as she speaks. No, not the ground. She’s looking at my arms.
Another memory comes back to me. Acelina’s personal tailor, draping cloth around my arms. The bruises from training with Petrys that Anura tried to hide with powder and lotion.
The way Acelina looked at me when she said she was sorry.
The way she toasted to our absent husbands, long may they remain at their distant posts.
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, that. Zarek didn’t hurt me.”
Acelina’s frown deepens. I didn’t think that was possible.
“Those bruises,” I say, running my hand down my arm. “Those weren’t from Zarek. He hired someone—”
Her mouth falls open. It takes me a moment to realize that sounds even worse.
“A guard,” I stammer. “He hired one of the guards. To teach me how to fight. He said the palace wasn’t safe, that I needed to learn—”
My voice trails off. Did he love me even then? a voice whispers in my mind.
“He was—trying to protect me,” I say, although my voice pinches at the end and comes out a ragged whisper.
Because here I am. Despite all of his efforts, I’m back in this place.
Acelina steps back. She’s still frowning, but she doesn’t look confused. No, now she looks like a woman contemplating a narrow array of terrible options.
“And your new husband?” she asks.
“Blayne?” I snort. “He’s an asshole.”
There’s more I could say, yes, but that one word covers it pretty well. Acelina nods like that’s all she wanted to hear. And then she leans close to me with a strange, fierce look in her eyes.
“I haven’t seen my children in three years,” she says in a low, rough whisper. “Syvan wanted them gone. He thought they were a threat, my tiny babies. Even I don’t know where they’re hiding.”
She leans back, blinking. The sun sparkles off the tears in her eyes. When she turns back to me, there’s a ferocity in her expression that makes me want to reach for the dagger hidden under my skirts.
“If the snake did kill that miserable sack of shit,” she hisses, low and fierce, “then I want to thank him.”
I swallow hard. Acelina sucks in a deep breath, then tilts her head to stare at the interlacing branches above us. She’s trying not to cry, I realize. A moment later, she turns back to me, blinking as she leans close.
“They’re keeping the snake on the fourth floor,” she says. “The king’s new advisor has him caged in his quarters,” she whispers, her voice dropping. “They’re planning something with him. An execution, I think.”
A noise slips out of my throat before I can stop it. Acelina puts her hand on mine. For a heartbeat, our eyes meet.
And I realize there’s something locked up inside Acelina, something wild and deadly that’s kept her alive all these years in Malrik’s court.
This place hasn’t broken her.
“Thank you,” I manage to whisper.
She nods like she’s just let me borrow a handkerchief, then looks back over her shoulder. I see Petrys’s shadow on the gravel path.
“If you see him,” Acelina whispers without looking at me, “give him my gratitude.”
My mouth opens, but I can’t think of anything to say.
Acelina nods politely, then turns and walks down the path.
I hear her say something to Petrys. I can’t make out the words, but her voice is soft and friendly, like always.
And then Petrys walks over to me, his hand still on his sword, like those feral wolves might suddenly jump out of the bushes.
“What did she want?” he asks.
I shake my head. And then I tell him everything.
Petrys insists that I walk through the garden as we talk, so the story comes out in whispered fragments. Petrys doesn’t say much, and every time I look at him, he steps back, his expression cold and formal.
I want to scream. My eyes climb the palace walls, tracing the bright windows as they throw the sunlight back into the garden. Which one of those rooms holds Zarek?
And what in the gods’ many names are they doing to him up there?
The closer we get to the palace, the more crowded the gardens become.
I smile and nod at every elegant gentleman and lady we pass.
Some of them nod in return, although no one actually speaks to me.
Some part of me wonders why. Is it because I’m the princess of Marion?
Or because they think I started the war? Or maybe they just don’t like Blayne.
“There you are!” a voice snaps.
I glance up, startled. And there’s Blayne, stalking across the garden like he was summoned by my thoughts. He scowls at me in a way that reminds me of my father.
Blayne grabs my arm and yanks me toward him.
“Where in the hells were you?” he growls.
I open my mouth. Blayne turns to Petrys, rage scrawled across his features.
“Were you alone?” Blayne spits. “With my wife?”
“My lord—” Petrys begins, in an icy voice.
“They already say I can’t control you,” Blayne snaps, spinning back to me, his face red with rage. “If there is even a hint of a rumor about my child—”
Petrys steps forward.
“My lord,” Petrys says again, in a voice as cold as the mountains, “the lady Lilias was summoned to the garden to meet with Princess Acelina.”
Blayne steps back. My arm aches where his hand grabbed me. Petrys lets his fingers rest once again on the pommel of his sword.
“I was never alone with the lady,” Petrys continues, his icy voice formal. “As I am sure every gentleman in this garden would attest.”
My back stiffens as Blayne sniffs and glances to either side of Petrys. From where I’m standing, I can see a handful of people in the garden, in clusters of two and three, all pretending not to stare at us. The princess of a fallen kingdom, her guard, and the spy desperate to join the nobility.
Blayne turns back to me. For a heartbeat, I wonder if he’s about to apologize for causing a scene.
“Why would the princess want to meet with you?” Blayne asks.
So much for an apology.
“She wanted to offer her congratulations,” I say, as politely as I can manage through my clenched jaw. “On our upcoming marriage.”
Blayne sniffs as he glances around the garden again. I can almost see the wheels of his mind spinning. If Princess Acelina approves of him—
Gods. I hate to be a part of anything that could make Blayne’s life easier.
“I believe this is enough fresh air for the day,” I declare, turning to Petrys. “Take me to my quarters.”
I don’t even look at Blayne as I leave. My cheeks burn as I stalk through the garden, holding my head high, pretending I don’t notice all the people turning to watch me, all the whispers rustling in my wake.
How many of these well-dressed nobles believe Malrik’s lies? How many of the people in this garden think I started this war so I could be with Prince Laurance in Ethiria? Or, gods, how many of them think I betrayed Zarek so I could marry Blayne instead?
I shiver as I pass from the sunlight of the gardens into the cool hallways of the palace.
“It’s got to be tonight,” Petrys mutters once we’re alone.
I turn to him. We’re walking through a narrow hallway, alone, heading toward what must be the guest quarters where I’m supposed to spend the night.
“What?” I whisper.
Petrys stops in front of one of the doors. He looks down the hallway, then turns to me.
“We wait until we know this new advisor isn’t guarding Zarek,” he replies, “and then we’re all getting the fuck out of here. Tonight.”