“Well, there’s nothing to be done about that, I suppose,” Koal said, more to himself than any of the others. “We’ll have to manage with what we have. And pray to The Two injuries are light—”
“Koal,” Nawaz croaked. “I–I have something I need to tell you. I might never get a chance to say it again, so—I need to confess now.” He squeezed his leaking eyes shut, and his head dropped. “I did something terrible.”
No one seemed to know what to say. Joel and Koal exchanged glances, eyebrows elevated on their foreheads. Gib dampened his lips nervously. What burden could possibly be weighing so heavily to have Nawaz this out of sorts?
The seneschal floundered for a moment. “What’s this about? I don’t understand.”
“At the ambush by the river, I did something I shouldn’t have, but—I can’t undo it now.”
“This is war,” Koal said. The uncertainty in his voice suggested he was still puzzled. “Soldiers die every day. While we should never take that sacrifice lightly, know there’s no fault in doing what you must to survive.”
“That’s not it,” Nawaz gasped. “It’s nothing to do with the war. It’s something far worse.”
Gib placed a hand on the Healer’s back, fearing the young lord might collapse. His chest heaved like he couldn’t catch a breath. “Come on. It can’t be that bad—”
Nawaz came alive, whirling around so fast Gib drew back in surprise. “You have to apologize to her for me! She’ll listen to you!”
Gib stared, dumbfounded. “She who? What are you talking about?”
Nawaz choked as he grabbed Gib’s hands. “Kezra! There’s no way in hell she will talk to me now. She wouldn’t even look at me after—”
After what? The battle?
Koal’s face hardened. “Nawaz, should this be a private conversation? Joel and Gib can leave.”
Nawaz cringed, like he might be expecting a blow, but he blustered on. “I shouldn’t have—I knew better. I shouldn’t have done it. It’s just—in the moment, I—”
Gib was still at a loss, but beside him, Joel had narrowed his eyes.
“You knew better than to what?” he demanded. The cold words were like ice down the spine.
Nawaz didn’t even try to meet Joel’s furious glare. His shoulders quaked as tears gushed down his face.
Dread settled in Gib’s gut like a stone. This couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like, could it? Nawaz and Kezra hadn’t—had they? How? When?
“What did you do?” Joel snarled, sounding nothing like the soft-spoken lordling Gib had first met.
Nawaz gagged on a sob. “I’m sorry.”
“What about Heidi? What about the baby? Did you even think of them?”
Pain shot up Gib’s fingers when Nawaz clutched the hand tighter, but Gib couldn’t bring himself to voice his complaint aloud. He held the Healer’s hand and kept a watchful eye on Joel.
Already upset before, the mage was just about beside himself now. His contorted face was possibly even redder than Nawaz’s. “How could you do this? How? You dog—”
“Quiet.” Koal’s unyielding voice filled the room. “Everyone calm down.”
Gib winced.
Koal. Oh gods, what is Koal going to say?
Silence swelled, engulfing the space. A feather could have floated by, and Gib would have heard it touch the ground. He didn’t want to look at his mentor—he didn’t want to know what the seneschal might be thinking or, Goddesses save them, preparing to say—but Gib couldn’t resist the impulse to glimpse up.
He lifted his eyes and almost couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. He would have expected to behold rage, despair, confusion, or sharp accusation—but not this. Never this. Koal’s aged face was weary, grave, and—sympathetic? Was that empathy that lingered in his solemn gaze?
Koal trudged across the tent and stood with his back to all of them. He had both palms pressed to the makeshift table, as though he needed its support to stay upright. “Nawaz, explain yourself.”
Nawaz’s bulging eyes darted to Gib, desperate for help. The Healer’s grip was so tight around Gib’s wrists he worried his hands might actually be crushed. He shook his head, just once, to let Nawaz know not to run. Or lie. Or act upon whatever other insane ideas might be rattling inside his skull in this moment of utter dread.
“It just—happened,” Nawaz muttered at last, tears and exhaustion garbling his words.
Joel laughed incredulously. “Oh, indeed? The two of you ‘just happened’ to fall naked together?”
“I didn’t plan it. Neither did Kezra. It was right after the ambush by the river. She found me. She was alive and so was I, and—I’m so sorry. I never intended for this. You have to believe me.”
An eternity passed while Gib tried to calm his pounding heart and Joel cried bitterly. Koal’s shoulders drooped so low he didn’t even look like himself. The distress inside the tent was so thick Gib could have reached out and grasped it between his fingers.
At long last, Koal’s weary voice rose out of the shadows. “Nawaz, do you love Heidi?”
Nawaz hesitated, wiping at his downcast eyes.
“Can you love her?” Koal pressed.
A stab of indignation touched even Gib’s heart. What sort of question was that?
Nawaz nodded his head earnestly. “Yes. It’s getting easier. And this is the only time anything like this has happened. I’ve never even considered it before, I swear.”
Joel couldn’t seem to take it anymore, and he threw his hands into the air. “Da, are you hearing this? He talks like what he did is all right because he didn’t plan it.”
“That’s not what I said!” Nawaz protested. “It’s not right, and I am sorry. Joel, you know me. You know I’ve tried to do right by Heidi—”
“Yes, and you’ve certainly done an excellent job thus far!”
Koal’s hand cut through the air, leaving no room for contest. Everyone fell silent, even Joel.
The seneschal waited until the silence began to fester before he craned his head, regarding Nawaz over one shoulder. “You can keep your promise then?”
“Promise?” Joel asked. “What promise?”
Nawaz and Koal exchanged knowing glances, some shared secret weighing heavily between them. Gib’s legs were beginning to lose their feeling. He wished he could leave. He didn’t know if he could bear any more secrets.
“Yes,” Nawaz finally said through gritted teeth. “I can keep the promise.”
Joel’s determination, however, wouldn’t be quelled so easily. He stormed over to his father, glaring at Koal’s back. Gib worried for a moment Joel might wrench the seneschal’s arm, but the son smartly kept his hands balled at his sides.
“What promise?” Joel demanded. “This is Heidi we’re talking about—your own daughter.”
Koal spun around so fast Joel nearly toppled over in his haste to jump back. “I know this is about Heidi. The reason I called for a promise from Nawaz was to protect her future. You’re not stupid, Joel. None of us are. No one here really thought Nawaz to be in love with Heidi when they wed. We all knew what was going on between him and the Malin-Rai girl. And we all knew what Neetra was doing by forcing Nawaz into the marriage.”
Gib closed his eyes. The tent and everything contained within it whirled in a blur of confusion.
Joel’s voice spiked again. “What Neetra did was wrong, but so was knowingly marrying Heidi off to someone who didn’t love her—who never had the best intentions at heart. Where’s the justice in that? She’s not some random highborn lady. She’s your daughter. Father, why would you do that?”
“You’re not giving your sister enough credit. Do you really think she’s clueless? She knew. She knew Nawaz loved another.”
“So you made Nawaz promise what? To keep his disloyalty secret? To not openly break her heart?”
“No,” Koal said. “I made him promise not to marry her if he truly believed he couldn’t grow to love her. His heart pined for someone he couldn’t have.
A person can’t simply turn that emotion off, Joel. You can’t just stop loving someone because your head tells you it’s wrong. It takes time.”
Gib held his breath. Was Koal talking about him? Did his mentor somehow know about Gib’s conflicted emotions concerning Joel and Zandi? Guilt spread to his cheeks in a rosy flush.
Joel quieted as well, and his eyes grew misty. When he raised his voice again, it was with less ferocity. “You’ve never been one to indulge in fantasies, Father. Certain betrayals cannot be forgiven.”
“People make blunders, Joel. This was a mistake, and it’s not yours to forgive.”
Joel glared over at Nawaz, who looked as if he wished the sand beneath his boots would swallow him whole. “Who could ever forgive something like this? Who, Father? Who?”
Koal slammed a fist onto the tabletop. The little stones representing the Ardenian army scattered everywhere. “Your mother! That’s who!”
The ground seemed to tumble out from under Gib’s feet. He lurched, barely managing to catch himself by grabbing Nawaz’s shoulder. What? What was Koal saying?
Joel’s handsome features were twisted with horror and frozen in place upon his pale face. “Y–you? You did this to Mother?”
“It was a long time ago. Another life, almost.”
“How—how could you?”
“Mrifa and I were intended from a young age. I knew she’d one day be my wife, but I—loved someone else. Even after we married, I couldn’t let go of that first love. What I did was wrong. My head knew as much, but my heart—”
Koal dropped his chin to his chest. If Gib lived to be a hundred years old, he would never be able to forget the shame engraved on the seneschal’s face.
“How could you do something so awful? You’re as bad as him.” Joel waved feebly toward Nawaz.
Koal shook his head. “If you want to pass judgment on me so thoroughly, then you need to know the severity of my crimes.”
Gib resisted the urge to cover his ears. He didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to tarnish the longstanding ideals he held about his heroes. He’d once believed Lord and Lady Adelwijn’s marriage to be perfect, as if the two of them had come straight out of a fantastical Tale of Fae. How could he have been so wrong?
Koal met Joel’s critical eyes. “You’d banish Nawaz for taking a single misstep. What would you do with me then? For the better part of a wheelturn, I was disloyal to our new marriage. Every time I told myself I was better than what I’d become. Every time I’d vow to stop. And every time, I’d fail. Joel, I was lost. I made a horrible mistake. I was ashamed to tell Mrifa, but in the end, I had no choice. Your mother had every right to request a divorce—I even expected her to—but she didn’t. She forgave me, whether she should have or not. She took me back and even accepted my—burden.”
“Why did you marry Mother if your heart belonged to another? What about this other woman?”
Koal stared into the gloom. A great remorse, like nothing Gib had ever seen before, clouded his eyes. “I couldn’t have her. She was above me and completely outside my reach.”
Joel must have witnessed it too. His fair complexion grew even paler. “Do you love Mother now?”
Koal cleared his throat, or it might have been an abomination of a laugh. “Yes. Now, and for a great many years. But in the beginning, no. I had to work at it. We had to work at it. Mrifa and I, our love didn’t blossom on its own. We had to nurture it, convince it to grow. As will Nawaz and Heidi.”
“If Heidi can forgive what he’s done.”
“Yes, of course. But that is her decision to make, Joel. Not yours.”
Gib didn’t know when he’d sunk to the ground, but there he was, sitting dumbfounded in the dirt. His lungs screamed for air, but he couldn’t breathe. The tension in the tent was far too dense. He needed to go outside. He needed space to clear his spinning mind.
“I’ll speak no more of this,” Koal said. He turned his back once again, and the silence encompassed the tent, creeping into the very fibers of the canvas. “Go now, all of you. Find sleep if you can. Dawn comes early in the south.”
Joel wiped away a tear but didn’t utter another word as he swept outside. Nawaz’s own tears had dried; the only remnants were red tracks on his cheeks. He offered a shaky hand. Gib took hold of it and was pulled upright. He blinked, expecting to wake at any moment. This entire conversation seemed so incredulous that it must be a dream.
As he shuffled toward the threshold, he cast one final glance at the back of his mentor’s tipped head. Gib’s heart sank. Who was this other woman for the seneschal of Arden to be disloyal to Lady Mrifa? Who could possibly have competed against her for the heart of Koal Adelwijn?
Liro stood motionless in the palace hall, utterly transfixed by the portrait of Queen Jorja Viran. One trembling hand stretched up, touching the gilded metal frame, caressing the painted canvas like it was a lover. When finally the hand came to a rest, Liro’s palm lay against the Queen’s pregnant stomach.
Back to the wall and just barely concealed by shadow, Diddy could feel himself shake from head to toe. He lifted his eyes, looking to Aodan for guidance, but the bodyguard only shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Diddy understood. It would be impossible for them to leave now without being caught. They’d only just managed to tuck themselves into the hollow when Aodan heard footsteps approaching. If they moved, Liro would see them.
It was preposterous that Aodan had to sneak around. The palace had been his home for some thirty years. But Neetra was convinced Aodan somehow meant to deal harm to Arden. If he was caught outside the suite without an escort, there could be trouble. Diddy bit his lip. The royal family needed no more trouble.
Uttering a choppy gasp, Liro brought his hand back to himself, cradling it against his chest. He stepped away, as though he were contemplating taking his leave, though his tormented eyes never once abandoned the portrait hanging above.
Diddy watched, both mystified and frightened. He couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen Liro appear so forlorn. What was he doing here? And why was he so captivated by the image of Queen Jorja?
Suddenly Gudrin’s high squeal could be heard all the way from within the royal suite. Diddy winced, glancing back over his shoulder. Something must have upset her. She might even have sensed Liro. Diddy hugged his back to the wall, wishing he could somehow escape by falling through it. Liro would surely notice them now. Gudrin’s shriek had caught his attention.
The shadows in which they stood weren’t nearly deep enough for either of them to actually hide, and Aodan didn’t bother trying any longer. Arms folded over his chest, he stepped into the dimly lit corridor as Liro’s eyes flicked in their direction.
The young lord drew back. “You.”
Diddy’s heart pounded in his chest, but Aodan remained as stoic and unmoving as the portraits surrounding them. “Aye. Me. What brings ya skulking ’round like some beaten dog?”
“How dare you speak to me like that. I’ve come on behalf of the steward to deliver a message.”
Aodan nodded toward the Queen’s portrait. “To her? Don’t think she heard ya.”
If looks could kill, Diddy knew for sure he and Aodan would have perished on sight. Liro had always been cold and unreachable. It was his nature. But the fury twisting his features was unlike anything Diddy could have imagined.
“You’ve overstepped your bounds, Derr,” Liro lashed out. “Don’t you ever speak so lightly of the late Queen in my presence! You’re not fit to tread the same halls she once did.”
“Ha. So you’re the product of higher learning, are ya? A lot of good that education’s done. The late Queen—Queen Jorja Viran to you—was the one who gave me my job. So really, it’s her authority you undermine by tryin’ to be rid of me.”
“Shut your mouth! She had no way of knowing how you’d poison Arden.”
“I served the Queen for a good many years before she was betrayed by snakes like you. I’d say she knew exactly who I was.”
“Queen Jorja was forced to marry an idealistic fool—a traitor to his own country. He was the one who sent Arden plunging to the pits of hell—”
“Now you’ve overstepped,” Aodan warned. “Make no mistake, Liro Adelwijn, if you speak ill of my king to me, no power in the world will be able to save ya.”
Diddy shivered, wanting to flee. He sought to grab Aodan’s arm and force him to retreat. They could run back to the suite. Yes, it was a cage, but at least it was safe. It was the only safe place they had left.
“Your king is dead,” Liro hissed. “And if there were any justice in this world, his lineage would go by the same way.”
“Careful.”
Liro stabbed a finger toward the painting. “Queen Jorja’s heir should sit on the throne. The Viran lineage ruled before the likes of Rishi Radek stole the crown away.”
Head spinning, Diddy took a breathless step back. Had Liro completely lost his mind? What was he talking about? Everyone knew Queen Jorja had no living kin.
Aodan snorted. “Is that what this is about? Well, Jorja’s daughter, Princess Nikki, is dead.”
“There was another child.”
Aodan’s single eye narrowed dangerously. “That child’s dead, too.”
“That child deserved better. This kingdom deserved better.”
Diddy reached for Aodan but was too late. Sufficiently baited, the bodyguard took a step closer to Liro.
“Jorja was a wise ruler. She chose her king and council well. It was she who laid the foundation to bring Arden to where it is now. Rishi only continued the path she’d set. It’s liars an’ cowards like you and yer steward who weaken this land.” Aodan nodded toward the portrait. “That child could have had nothing better than to be born into the kingdom Jorja and Rishi built.”
Liro’s face was so red he might burst. “That child should have been born!”
Aodan came within an arm’s reach of Liro. The bodyguard didn’t seem to care the other man stood head and shoulders taller. “Not from where I stand. I’d even venture ta say it’s a damn good thing it never was. Just look at the lunatic we could’ve been saddled with.”
Battle Dawn: Book Three of the Chronicles of Arden Page 30
