The Glittering Court

by Richelle Mead

  He still didn’t hear, but those in front of me turned around to see what was happening. They gave way to me out of simple curiosity, and my next attempt was heard: “Governor Doyle!”

  He searched for the voice and spotted me. “Lady Witmore. You missed the trial.”

  The crowd parted for me, and getting to the front was easy. I hurried to the gallows stairs, locking eyes with Cedric. A couple of soldiers started to block me, but Warren shook his head at them.

  “Let her say goodbye.” There was no kindness in his voice.

  I held the papers in the air. “You can’t execute him! He’s a citizen of Westhaven! I have the proof. He’s allowed to practice there, and you have to honor that here.”

  Warren’s condescending look turned into a snarl. “Take your forged papers and get out of here.”

  “They’re not forgeries,” Nicholas called from below. He and Aiana had worked their way up in the crowd. “I’m an attorney, and I completed them with Westhaven’s chief representative. Everything’s in order. Mister Thorn’s citizenship was intact the day you found the Alanzan items.”

  “How convenient this just surfaced,” snapped the governor. “You should’ve presented this ‘evidence’ before the verdict. This demon will be brought to justice, and I’ll be damned if . . .”

  He trailed off as his eyes lifted to something beyond me. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to see what had caught his attention. A group of riders was charging down the road, oblivious to anything in their way. The panicked crowd split up, frantic to get to safety.

  “Governor!” cried one of the men when they were within hearing. “The Icori are here! A whole force of them!”

  Governor Doyle regarded the man as if he was crazy. “There haven’t been Icori in the city in years—or anywhere in Denham.”

  The man pointed. “They’re right behind me! Call the soldiers!”

  But as I’d noticed before, Cape Triumph didn’t have a large military presence. There had been no need, now that threats from the Icori and Lorandians were nonexistent. The crown had diverted the bulk of its might to more vulnerable colonies, leaving the old fort all but abandoned. Today, crowd management was being handled by scattered militia and a handful of remaining soldiers.

  I had a hard time believing the Icori claim too, but then I saw what came down the road next. A pack of nearly fifty horses approached, surrounded in a cloud of dust. As they grew closer, I saw the bright colors of plaid wool draped over the riders. Sunlight shone on heads of red and gold hair. Equally visible were swords and shields.

  Chaos ensued. The crowd broke, screaming as they ran for what they hoped was safety. Governor Doyle began shouting for the militia to assemble, but it was nearly impossible to manage in this frenzy. I urgently beckoned Nicholas to come up the steps with me.

  I didn’t know what was happening, but I wasn’t going to leave Cedric tied up when a battle was about to start. I ran over to him and sliced his ropes.

  “You’re okay? You’re okay?” I asked, taking in the beloved features.

  “Yes—yes.” He touched my cheek briefly and peered around, having the same sentiment as me. “We need to get out of here. Up the north highway—take to the woods.”

  Nicholas nodded. “We can get help in the towns there, maybe make it to Archerwood Colony. Their militia’s bigger, and they still have some army left.”

  We turned for the gallows stairs and found Warren blocking our path. Amazingly, only an hour after being found not guilty, he’d gotten a hold of a gun. “You’re not leaving,” he said. “Maybe we’re all going to die here, but I’m going to be the one who finishes you.”

  I glanced frantically at the approaching Icori. They hadn’t attacked, but there’d been no need, with everyone fleeing. The militia had finally started to assemble, but so far, there were only about two dozen.

  “Stop this,” I told him. “This isn’t the time for a vendetta! You can get away with us. We’re going north.”

  “Save your own skin,” added Cedric. “You’re good at that.”

  It wasn’t, perhaps, the most tactful comment to use when trying to sway Warren to our side, but I doubted anything would have. A voice suddenly boomed, “Where is the governor?”

  We all turned. The Icori had reached the bottom of the platform. There’d still been no sign of attack. They seemed remarkably calm, though those in the group’s periphery watched the colonists warily and held their weapons tightly.

  Many were painted with blue woad, just like the two Icori we’d met on the road, covered in symbols I didn’t know. Women warriors rode along with the men. Copper ornaments and feathers decorated riders and horses, and their woolen tartans made a sea of color. Looking closely, I could see a pattern to it. Several riders to the side wore plaid of red and white. Another cluster wore red and blue. The group in the front wore green and black.

  This was the group the speaker was in. He was in front, all tanned muscles and white-blond hair and—

  He was the Icori we’d met on the road to Hadisen.

  “Where is the governor?” His Osfridian was still clear.

  Governor Doyle hesitantly stepped forward. “I’m the governor. You have no business here. Get out before my army beats yours to the ground.” It was a bluff, seeing as the militia had thirty at most by now. I think several had fled.

  “We do have business,” the Icori man said. “We’ve come seeking justice—your help in righting a wrong done to us.” His eyes flicked toward Warren. “I was told we’d need more than two people to have our demands heard. So here we are.”

  “You’ve had no wrongs done to you,” said Governor Doyle. “We’ve all agreed to the treaties. We’ve all obeyed them. You have your land, we have ours.”

  “Soldiers are moving into our land and attacking our villages—soldiers from the place you call Lorandy.” The Icori man met the governor’s gaze unblinkingly. “And your own people are aiding them and letting them cross your territories.”

  This caused a nervous stir among our colonists, but Governor Doyle only grew angrier. “Impossible! Lorandians moving into your lands means they would flank ours. No man among us would allow such a thing.”

  “Your own son would.”

  A new speaker emerged from the Icori, bringing her horse beside the man.

  And I knew her.

  I hadn’t picked Tamsin out right away. Her red hair had blended into theirs, and she was dressed like them too, in a knee-length green dress edged in that plaid. Her hair hung in two long, loose braids intertwined with copper pendants. I’d been stunned when I saw her with the Grashond residents. But this . . . this was enough to make me think I was imagining things.

  Her entire presence was calm and composed, very different from the wildly emotional demeanor I associated with her. “Your son and other traitors are working with the Lorandians to stir up discord and draw Osfrid’s army out of the central colonies—so that Hadisen and others can rebel against the crown.”

  Warren lowered the gun and came to life beside us. “It’s a lie, Father! There’s no telling what these savages have brainwashed this girl into believing. What proof does she have for this absurdity?”

  “The proof of being thrown off a boat in the middle of a storm when I discovered your plans,” she replied.

  “Lies,” said Warren. He took a few steps back, panic filling his face. “This girl is delusional!”

  A man suddenly climbed up the stairs. Warren spun around to face this newcomer. It was Grant Elliott, looking particularly bedraggled today, and he didn’t seem fazed by any of this. He strolled over beside me and looked as though a halted hanging, an Icori army, and potential traitors were part of an ordinary day for him.

  “She’s telling the truth,” he said, locking his hard gaze on Governor Doyle and not Warren. The gruff Grant I remembered from the storm was back. “There are stacks
of correspondence. Witnesses who’ll testify.”

  “Elliott?” Warren gaped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Grant’s heavy gaze fell on Warren. “I think you know. About Courtemanche. About the ‘heretic couriers.’”

  I saw the shift in Warren’s eyes, the moment when he was truly pushed over the edge by whatever those enigmatic words meant. And I knew, before he raised the gun at Grant, what was going to happen. “Look out!” I cried, throwing myself into Grant. I didn’t quite knock him over but pushed him out of the way enough to just barely evade the bullet that fired from Warren’s gun. That put me directly in front of him for the gun’s second bullet. And I could tell from his frantic expression that it didn’t really matter who he shot at this point.

  Suddenly, I heard a thwack sound, and something moved in my periphery. The next thing I knew, Warren was lying on the ground, clutching his leg and screaming in agony. Something that looked like an arrow was sticking out of his knee. It was the same leg I’d stabbed him in. Grant knelt down to restrain Warren, but that seemed unnecessary given the wails of pain.

  I, like many others, tried to figure out where the shot had come from. The Icori and the feeble militia looked equally baffled. At last, I found what I’d been searching for.

  And I couldn’t tell in that moment which was more incredible, that Tamsin was among the Icori warriors . . .

  . . . or that Mira was standing on an overturned wagon, wielding a crossbow.

  Chapter 31

  My second wedding was bigger than my first one. And a lot cleaner.

  I would certainly still argue that I didn’t need ceremony or pomp to declare my love for Cedric. A bath and nice clothes didn’t change how I felt. But there was no way I’d turn them down.

  In Adoria, weddings occurred in magistrate’s offices more often than they did in Osfrid, so choosing that over a church of Uros wasn’t unusual. Of course, with Cedric revealed as an Alanzan, no one was really surprised. We held our after-wedding party at Wisteria Hollow, inviting everyone we knew and a lot of people we didn’t. Jasper had grudgingly agreed to hosting. He still wasn’t happy about his son’s choices, but he’d given in and accepted the inevitable.

  We spent our wedding night in the cottage of an Alanzan acquaintance of Cedric’s, one who was out of town on business and had lent it to us. It held nothing of my old town house’s grandeur—or even that of Blue Spring—but was charming and clean. And it was ours. All ours for the night. No fear of others discovering us. No fear of condemnation.

  It felt like we hadn’t really and truly seen each other in ages. Since almost no one knew we were already married, we’d spent the two weeks between the trial and official wedding living chaste and separate lives. When we’d made it back to the cottage after a long day of festivities, the jolt of finally being alone together had been so surreal that we’d hardly known what to do.

  But we’d quickly figured that out.

  I woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom’s bay window. Cedric lay at my back, his arms encircling my waist. I ran my fingers over the crisp white sheets, inhaling a scent that was a mix of Cedric’s vetiver, the detergent used on the sheets, and the violet perfume Mira and Tamsin had gifted me for my wedding.

  “I can tell that you’re thinking,” Cedric said, pressing his cheek to my back. “Thinking much harder than you should be.”

  “I’m trying to memorize this. Every detail. The light, the smells, the feel.” I rolled over so that I could look at his face. The morning sun lit up his hair, which was unquestionably disheveled. “Even you. We get to wake up together for the rest of our lives now, but it’s going to be a long time before it resembles anything like this room, this bed.”

  He brushed my hair back and then trailed his hand along my neck. “Getting cold feet?”

  “Hardly, seeing as I’ve married you twice now.”

  “Maybe we can find a reason to stay here longer.”

  “And miss going to Westhaven with the charter members? That wouldn’t reflect well on a founder and so-called leader of the community. You’d also get arrested and possibly executed for heresy if you don’t go. And all those food supplies we’ve got sitting downstairs would go to waste.”

  “Was that list in any particular order? Like, least to most serious consequence?”

  “I . . . don’t know.” The hand that had been by my face had slipped under the covers and now ran over my bare leg—slowly, agonizingly. I was trying to keep my face and voice cool, but the rest of my body was betraying me as I curled closer to him. “You’re kind of making it difficult to focus. And we have a lot to do.”

  “Yes.” His voice was husky as he moved his mouth to my neck. “Yes, we do.”

  “That’s not what I . . .”

  He was impossible for me to resist. Or maybe I was impossible for him to resist. We melted into each other, and I forgot all about Westhaven and the hardships ahead. For the next hour, my world was a tangle of skin and hair and bedding. Afterward, I had a halfhearted urge to get up and start the day. That was soon abandoned. I collapsed into him and fell back asleep.

  The sound of knocking snapped me awake and effectively shattered any remaining languor. I jerked upright. “They’re here for our supplies! What time is it?”

  Cedric opened one eye and fixed it on the window. “It’s not time. Too early.”

  “Well, someone wants something,” I said as the knocking continued. I climbed out of bed and searched around until I found a long, thick housecoat. I pulled it on, noting that my wedding dress was lying on the floor in the room’s far corner, inside out. It was one of my diamond dresses, a fantasy of white silk and silver. “How’d that get over there?”

  Cedric had been watching me dress, both eyes now open, and slid his gaze over to the corner. “You needed help getting out of it.” Like that was any kind of answer.

  “We’ll get an earful from Jasper. I have to give that back.” I finished cinching up the robe and hurried to the bedroom door.

  “I think you’re supposed to call him ‘Dad’ now,” Cedric yelled after me. I paused just long enough to throw a small pillow at him.

  Downstairs, the knocking had grown louder and more irritated. So, perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to find that it was, in fact, Jasper standing out on the porch. He checked his pocket watch impatiently. “There you are.”

  “Sorry. We were still . . . asleep. Would you like to come in?”

  “No time. I’m off to meet a man I might possibly be starting an exciting business venture with.”

  “And he had to schedule it during our send-off, huh?” Cedric strolled to the doorway beside me, yawning. He’d thrown on last night’s wedding clothes, which were covered in wrinkles. “Or maybe you scheduled it during the send-off?”

  Jasper didn’t answer either way. “There’s nothing you really need from me at this point—although I do need that dress back. I can get good money for that. And if this new venture works out, we might have the potential for even more. We’re working out logistics for more-specific long-distance matchmaking via correspondence and classified ads.”

  While Jasper rambled on about the details, I went back upstairs to get the dress. It took a few minutes to assemble it all, as the various components—overdress, underdress, chemise, veil—had inexplicably ended up in wildly different parts of the room. Maybe I’d had more wine last night than I recalled. Or maybe I’d just been too preoccupied to care. Several glittering beads fell off the overdress when I smoothed it out, and I winced, hoping Jasper wouldn’t notice.

  When I came back downstairs, I heard Jasper saying, “—expand this business more than we ever dreamed, and you could have had a share of it. Riches beyond belief. But no. You had to marry a blue-blooded con artist and go prance off into the wilderness with some cult. I hope this new insanity works out for you.” />
  “Father, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  Jasper scowled. “I’m serious. You’ve made some dangerous choices.”

  “But I made them myself,” Cedric said. “And that’s what matters.”

  I handed the dress over to Jasper. From the narrowing of his eyes, I think he immediately noticed the missing beads. “Is that wine on the hem?” he asked.

  “Thank you for letting me borrow it,” I said sweetly. “Dad.”

  Cedric and I stood on the porch when he left, watching until he was out of sight down the lane. When we were alone, he slipped his arm around me. “Ready for the next adventure?”

  “Always.”

  The morning flew by as we readied ourselves and saw our wilderness supplies and few worldly possessions carted off to the Westhaven baggage train. Much like the Hadisen send-off, there was a big crowd assembling at the edge of town where the wagons and horses were lining up for departure. There’d be family and friends to say goodbye, as well as the idle and curious. When we were finally ready to go, Cedric and I cast a fond glance back at the cottage and went to join the masses.

  It was as crowded as I’d expected—maybe more so. Edwin Harrison caught sight of us immediately and asked for Cedric to consult on something, leaving me alone to people-watch near the edge of the crowd.

  “It must be exhausting being married.” Tamsin strolled up to me. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

  I grinned and gave her a quick hug. “I slept. Some.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll make up for it with all the sleep you’ll get trekking through the wilderness. And whatever shack you have in Westhaven will probably be very restful too.”

  I thought back to the dilapidated shanty on the gold claim. It felt like a lifetime ago. “We don’t even have one yet. We’ll have to build it—or hire someone to, in light of Cedric’s carpentry skills. Besides, you’re one to talk—after living in an Icori roundhouse.”

  She smiled at the joke but made no comment on it. In the weeks that had passed since Warren’s downfall, we’d learned a lot more about her time among both the Grashond Heirs and the Icori. She’d taken a long time to open up, and I knew there were still things she wasn’t telling us. I hoped they’d come out in time when she was ready. Aiana had cornered Jasper, telling them that there was no way Tamsin could be expected to marry anytime soon after such traumatic events. Aiana had won her case, and Tamsin’s contract had been extended.