The Deceiver's Heart

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  “Why not? Because you don’t believe it’s possible?”

  “Because you have bigger concerns. Lord Endrick knows by now that you have magic.”

  I half smiled, though I took no joy in it. “You have no idea how well he knows it.”

  Tenger clicked his tongue, then leaned forward, one arm on each knee. “If it’s true that Endrick has the necklace, then he knows about Simon. If you stay in Nessel, you will bring Endrick here.”

  Just as I started to reply, Gabe burst in with a scroll in one hand. “A message has come from the Halderians. On behalf of the new king of the Halderian clan, Commander Mindall would like to invite all distinguished Coracks to a supper tonight.”

  I sat up in bed. “I’ve got to see him, Tenger.”

  “The necklace—”

  “It’s just to say good-bye. Allow me that.”

  Tenger frowned, but gave me a slight nod. “Just to say good-bye.”

  The day after I awoke looked to be unbearably long and utterly without mercy.

  I was in a bed of carved wood, tucked between silken sheets that never could belong to someone of my station. But when I tried to get up, the bandages tightly wrapped around my chest, shoulder, and right arm were a reminder that the nightmare I vaguely remembered actually had happened.

  Kestra had saved me from the worst of the white disk’s consequences. Yet in an entirely different way, I still felt split in half. Based on my surroundings, it seemed that I was now recognized as a king, a title that no more described me than had I been declared ruler of the imaginary Bingebrushies. The other half was simply a boy who’d seen far too much for his years yet was still too young to have any idea what to do now. I was part of the rebellion, a protector at times, and a fool more often than I wished. But I was no king.

  Gerald was my first visitor of the day, meeting me in my chambers since the Halderian doctors had apparently asked me not to move about more than was necessary. I had no intention of ignoring them. Moving felt roughly akin to running a saw through my shoulder. I was far from healed.

  He sat in a chair next to my bed and smiled over at me. “King Simon. It feels right to call you that.”

  “I never wanted … I don’t want …” I abandoned that argument. There was no point in debating this with Gerald. “How is Kestra?”

  “She’s recovering elsewhere. She’ll be all right.”

  But something was wrong. The tension in his voice revealed that much. “Gerald—”

  “She is not your concern any longer. The Halderians are your people now.”

  “She’s my main concern, and my people should feel the same way. We need her!”

  “No, they need you.” Gerald lowered his voice, trying a more reasonable approach. “Since the war’s end, the Halderians have been scattered, hunted … broken. And surviving only because they hold to the belief that the Scarlet Throne should be theirs and will be again one day. You must give it back to them.”

  “How? I am a king with no history, no gold, no claim to the throne other than I happened to be plucked half-dead off a roadside by the right man. We both know I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Yet the people will bow to you.” Gerald leaned forward. “Give them a reason for it. Love them, serve them, and give them hope for the future.”

  I closed my eyes again, sensing the direction of this conversation. “Kestra is our only hope, not me. The people must know that.”

  Enough silence passed that I finally looked at him again, and when I did, I observed a sincere sadness in his eyes. “My king, she cannot be allowed to remain here. Surely you understand why.”

  I did understand, in ways I wished I didn’t. And in ways I didn’t dare explain to anyone else.

  Except that Gerald already seemed to know. In a near whisper, he said, “While you’ve been recovering, you’ve repeatedly murmured a distinct word in your sleep: corrupt.”

  My eyes darted away from him. “Who else heard?”

  They closed entirely when he murmured Harlyn’s name, adding, “She’s barely left your side. My king, why that word?”

  I paused, trying to swallow a lump that had formed in my throat, then finally gave up and said, “I don’t know exactly what Kestra did after she pulled me from that river, but for a while, we shared a piece of each other’s souls. I don’t remember most of it, but I remember sensing that it was already …” I hesitated again. I didn’t want to think of what I’d felt from her.

  “Already corrupting?” Gerald nodded, answering his own question.

  In those few seconds between us, I had felt bound to her, wrapped in warmth and love and her unparalleled strength to hold on to me. I’d reached back for her, but instead found a piece of soul that was ice cold, a piece that was dead and spreading. It had frightened me then, and chilled me now.

  Gerald continued, “Every time she draws strength in from others, she pulls a portion of themselves to her. Imagine if she ever attempted to do that with someone truly evil, such as Lord Endrick himself.”

  “It would shatter her.” After a pause in which I had to force myself to breathe, I added, “We must find a way to heal it. We’ll start by keeping her here, around good people.”

  “The people saw what she did, and they are grateful. But if they were wary of a Dallisor girl, imagine how they would feel to see her now: an Endrean with exceptionally powerful magic, abilities that will make her the sole target of Lord Endrick. If she remains here, the Dominion will return and destroy whatever we have left.”

  “We will have nothing left if she fails!”

  Gerald nodded, though he clearly didn’t agree. “It’s possible to make the wrong decision, even for the right reasons. Be wise instead and trust her to leave. If she is strong enough to challenge Lord Endrick, then she can defend herself out there.”

  “Yes, but the greatest danger—”

  “The greatest danger may be the people here who have repeatedly sought her life. Imagine how quickly the Halderians will try again if they believe she is corrupting and if she has any influence over their king.”

  “Then I won’t be king!”

  “Who will replace you? Commander Mindall, whose first order will be the same as his last, to find and destroy the Infidante? Execute Mindall and another one just like him will take his place.”

  I sighed. “I won’t lose her, Gerald.”

  The corners of his eyes creased as he asked, “My king, did you ever have her?” He let me absorb that as he continued, “Send her away for your sake. For the people’s sake. Send her away, and let her complete her quest, as she must do. Then you are free to take the Scarlet Throne and restore these people to their proper place in Antora.”

  “And what happens to her afterward?”

  Gerald shrugged. “If she is lucky, she will be allowed to leave Antora. If she is unlucky, or if the corruption worsens before this is over …” He glanced up at me without ending his thought.

  I shook my head, the only movement I could manage due to the crushing weight resting on my chest. My mind raced to find any scenario in which Kestra and I remained together. And came up with nothing.

  “The people surely know how I feel about her. I’ll never convince them otherwise.”

  He sighed. “I’ve considered that. We must give you a cover. I suggest Harlyn Mindall. She likes you. And maybe in time, you will learn to like her too.”

  I grunted with irritation. “Am I supposed to like her … or marry her?”

  “Both. Although the sequence is up to you.” Gerald leaned forward. “The people respect her. If she is at your side, they will learn to respect you too. You need her.”

  I cursed and banged my fist against the bedpost, but even as I did, I received my second visitor, Harlyn herself. Who was admitted in under the pretense of examining my wound, though I doubted this seventeen-year-old girl was the pinnacle of the Halderian medical team.

  With a quick wink at me, she did a brief check of my bandages, but when she examined my right ar
m, her brows pressed together and her expression at Gerald was filled with deep concern.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I think we can remove the bandage on your chest by tonight, which is good news. But there’s a bump beneath the wound in your arm, and the flesh is hotter than it should be, even with a burn. I think you should keep it bandaged until we figure out what to do.” She frowned. “The Infidante was not as thorough as she might have been in healing you.”

  “The Infidante saved my life,” I snapped.

  “We cannot delay the crowning ceremony,” Gerald said. “The people need to see a leader in place as soon as possible.”

  “I’m well enough,” I said, sensing an opportunity. “Out of respect for the Coracks who fought with us, please invite any who wish to intend.”

  Kestra. I hoped she’d come.

  And I waited the entire day to find out.

  With all the patience I could muster, I endured the tailors who fitted me for an outfit suitable for a crowning, a black tunic with a brown sash and three blue stripes on my shoulder, and a longcoat over the top.

  With less patience, I endured the visits of those who hoped to gain my favor and be named to a position of power. If only they knew what I really thought of them.

  And with no attempt at being patient, I endured the slow passage of time. I genuinely had no idea if Kestra would come—our last several encounters had been disasters. But I hoped she would.

  Finally, it was time for the ceremony, which would be followed by a supper in the town square. The ceremony itself would be held in the same outdoor theater where Kestra had become Infidante, built on a hillside with the stage at the lowest point. Every Halderian was invited, regardless of wealth, status, or rank. From my position on a seat in front, I watched the people enter, some with excitement to have a king again, some with dread at the same. A few rows back, I overheard mothers pointing me out to their children, and young women offering their opinions on which of them would be most suitable as my queen.

  None of them. Especially when I heard them giggle. I wondered if a king could outlaw giggling.

  “Ignore them.” Harlyn casually sat beside me. A seat, which I hadn’t realized, must have been reserved for her. Of course it was. She was dressed in formal attire with her hair slicked back, and in a long blue dress with brown trimmings. She looked beautiful.

  Harlyn asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Not great. The Coracks have a physician. When this is over, I’ll ask her to come.”

  “Our doctors are already speaking with Loelle about your arm. I’m sure they’ll figure out a solution soon. Until then, this will be a historic night. Can you feel the anticipation around us?”

  Around us?

  I turned to her, needing to be firm, but also hoping to be as gentle as possible. “Harlyn, you asked me to give you a chance, but I have to explain—”

  “No, I have to explain.” Harlyn took my hand in both of hers and leaned forward to speak directly into my ear. “I’m ready to be your queen, but only when you are ready too. Until then, I will let the people think that because their commander has entrusted his daughter with you, that they should trust you too. I will stay by your side and do all I can to help you retake the Scarlet Throne. But marry me because you love me, and for no other reason.”

  She smiled, then left a soft kiss on my cheek. I heard giggling behind us again and quickly faced forward. We would continue this conversation later, when my stomach wasn’t churning with nerves, and we were in a less public place.

  Only a minute later, Gerald took the stage with Commander Mindall. Gerald quieted the audience, then said, “I knew Simon Hatch before he claimed his royalty. I can testify that he is a person of immense courage, skill, and wholehearted determination to end the reign of Lord Endrick. He is the adopted son of King Gareth as he lived in exile and has the king’s ring and sword to prove it.” Gerald had the ring and held it up. Harlyn squeezed my hand with anticipation. I’d been so nervous, I’d forgotten she was holding it.

  Commander Mindall had also raised my sword, but when he lowered it, he continued the narrative. “My people, I have served as a military leader on your behalf almost since our banishment, and as your political leader for this past month.”

  He failed to mention that he’d become the political leader after challenging Thorne for power, angry that Thorne had helped Kestra to become the Infidante. Maybe that didn’t matter to these people, but it did to me.

  Mindall continued, “His courage in Reddengrad caused the deaths of four senior officers in the Dominion army as well as the death of Sir Henry Dallisor, second in command to Lord Endrick. I have offered him the hand of my daughter, Harlyn, and he has accepted.”

  I pulled my hand free of Harlyn’s. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “They’re only words.”

  Words that put us one step closer to the wedding arch.

  Next, Mindall invited me to the stage. Harlyn took my arm to walk with me and gave it a squeeze, without realizing she had pressed in directly on my wound, igniting the sting again. Yet that was the least on my mind. The next fifteen steps in front of the crowd were the hardest of my life.

  Once we were up front, Harlyn formally curtsied to me, then rose and kissed my cheek again, whispering as we parted, “My king.”

  “Kneel, Simon Hatch.” Mindall’s tone showed respect, but I couldn’t tell if there was any sincerity to it. I nodded at him, unsure of how much respect I felt for him either.

  I gave the same nod to Gerald, then gazed out across the audience, but from my position, I couldn’t see Kestra anywhere. Maybe that was for the best. I doubted she’d take well to the announcement about me and Harlyn. I wasn’t even sure how well I was taking it.

  I knelt on a blue velvet pillow and lowered my head. Mindall raised the sword above me and used it to touch my right shoulder and then my left, saying, “With my authority as General of the Halderian Armies, I pronounce you King of the Halderians, heir to the Scarlet Throne of Antora and the leader of our victory against the Dominion. Rise, King Simon!”

  A cheer burst from the audience and as shouts rose in honor of my health and happiness, Gerald took my hand and placed Gareth’s ring upon the center finger.

  “You have become the person your adopted father wished for you to be,” he said. “And truly a king I will honor with my loyalty, respect, and service.” Then he went to his knees, followed by Mindall.

  Next to kneel was Harlyn, directly in front of me, and looking up with an expression that sent a rush of heat through me. She offered me her hand, and when I took it, she held my gaze as I lifted her to her feet. In turn, the rest of the audience knelt for me, yet from the corner of my eye, one particular movement caught my eye, the flash of a cloak in the wind as someone hurriedly left.

  Kestra. I knew it had been Kestra.

  Simon would be a good king. A great king. I was certain of that, and I hoped his new subjects would agree. The Halderians needed someone like him. He would help them rebuild, but more importantly, he would organize them to eventually return to Highwyn, and there he would claim the Scarlet Throne, ruling not over one people, but over one nation. Then it would be his responsibility to restore an entire country.

  If I were less selfish, that would’ve been enough. I should have been happy for him, and excited about his future, and humbled to have had a small role in putting him on the throne.

  But none of that mattered to me. My heart was hurting far more now than from anything Endrick had ever done to it, and it was about to get worse. I had to say good-bye.

  Following the ceremony, a banquet was held in the town square for anyone who wished to attend. I only caught fleeting glimpses of Simon, who was surrounded by a parade of well-wishers hoping to gain his favor.

  Those who weren’t buttering themselves up to the new king stood in lines alongside the rows of tables crowded with breads, cheeses, and a variety of meats. Notably, fewer people were here than on the night I’d
been named as Infidante. The Halderians had lost many of their fighters. Reddengrad had lost many more.

  Including their prince, now a captive of the Dominion. Tenger was planning his rescue, and I intended to be part of it. Basil deserved that much after all he’d risked to get me out of Woodcourt.

  Trina joined me on the edge of the square where I sat on another low rock wall, trying to pretend I wasn’t watching every move Simon made. Trying to ignore the pretty Harlyn Mindall who had become a fixture at his side.

  Trina offered me some bread from her plate, but I had no appetite for it. She followed my gaze over to Simon. “You’ve changed.”

  I turned to her. “How?”

  “The girl I once knew would never sit over here when what she really wants is over there.”

  “Maybe because that girl has decided to accept reality. You heard the announcement, Trina. He’s agreed to marry that Halderian girl.”

  “If he did agree, then it’s only because he had to. Talk to him.”

  My eyes misted. That’s why I’d come and what I had planned to do, but now that I was looking at him, I’d lost my courage. I stood and brushed at my eyes before she noticed. “I’d better go. It was a mistake to come here.” Then I hurried from the square, vaguely aware that people darted from my path in fear, as if simply being near me was dangerous.

  “Kestra, wait!” I glanced back and saw Simon hurrying toward me.

  “Go back to your subjects. Go back to her.”

  “Kes … stop, please.”

  I did, but folded my arms, unwilling to look at him. He stood silently beside me until someone in the crowd behind us called, “Where is the king?” Simon sighed, then put a hand on my back to lead me forward. “Let’s talk in private.”

  My heart pounded, and a shiver ran up my spine, but for entirely different reasons than it once had. When Tenger had spoken to me, it had been an easy thing to understand that if Endrick had the necklace, then he knew there were feelings between me and Simon. Maybe Tenger was right; I should put as much distance between us as possible.

  But now that I was near him, it was even easier to tell myself that the damage was already done. Whether I stayed or left made no difference to what Endrick would do with the information in the necklace.