by Emma Fenton
Ria swallowed. “There was nothing I could easily acquire that would do what I needed it to do.”
The Elder Scholar hummed and took another sip. “I expected as much. Poisons are tricky and unreliable even in the best of circumstances.”
Ria frowned. “Is that why you pointed me in the direction of those books? Because you knew I wouldn’t find what I was looking for, but I would find the answer I needed?”
“To be completely honest, Ria, I had no idea what you would find when I told you to look through the journals of a past Elder Scholar.” He set down his cup and steepled his fingers. “I confess that demon summoning was not a possibility I considered.”
Ria choked on her tea. “You know?”
He smiled at her. “Your companion is very subtle. I’ll give him that. Really, you can’t say that about most demons. But power is energy, and energy can be sensed—if you know what to look for.”
“And you can see into the future,” Ria pointed out with a sigh.
“Yes. And that.”
“When did you know?” she asked. All of her fears about facing the Elder Scholar and confessing seemed to be for nothing. She felt extremely silly for not expecting that he would already know.
“I suspected the night before your combat against Jaya. I could feel the presence of new magic. Strong magic. It was gone before I could trace it, but the outcome of your battle with Jaya suddenly became very clear. It was certain you would win,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “I knew you’d done something, but it wasn’t until you walked into the arena that I felt the magic again. And I saw him, though he was trying to hide, lingering at the edge of the stadiums. I knew that only one thing made sense, given all the evidence.”
Ria sipped her tea, letting the silence linger for a moment. “I thought you would be angry.”
Master Ameer looked like he was choosing his words very carefully. “I am glad you are alive, Ria, and I know that you only did what you had to do to survive. But demons are dangerous. There is a reason magic like that was outlawed hundreds of years ago. If your demon decides he wants to hurt you—”
“He won’t.”
“Ria,” the Elder Scholar sighed. “No matter how helpful he has been, or how pleasant he seems, never forget that whatever charming façade he has will drop the moment you don’t do exactly what he wants.”
“I know,” Ria said patiently. “What I mean is that he physically cannot harm me without causing that same harm to himself. During the summoning, I accidentally bound us together.”
“An accidental soul bond,” the Elder Scholar said, voice alight with wonder. He looked at Ria sharply. “I take it he doesn’t know how to break it?”
“Neither of us do.” Ria’s brow furrowed. A soul bond? What does that entail? “Peryn—the demon—thinks that fulfilling our deal will do the trick, but he’s not certain.”
The Elder Scholar briefly raised a brow at the demon’s name. “And what do you have to do to fulfill your deal? Please, Ria, tell me you were smart about this.”
“I owe him a favor. It’s a lot more complicated than this, but let’s just say that we both have to agree on it in order for him to collect.” She really didn’t want to explain all the gritty details of her contract with Peryn. “All he really wants is ten-thousand souls – something about me being the guardian of my people would allow me to sign those over to him—but naturally, I refuse. So we’re stuck together.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
The Elder Scholar hummed. “Take an old man’s advice: keep your demon bound to you as long as possible. I’ve seen hints of a plot that threatens your life. This demon of yours may prove a crucial player in the long run.”
Ria tried not to think about the implications of keeping Peryn around indefinitely. He could be helpful, yes, but he was also frustrating, annoying, and had a habit of somehow finding all the wrong buttons to push when it came to her.
“You mean how Izan wants to marry me, then kill me and take the throne in one fell swoop?” Ria asked bitterly.
“It is good you are aware of the danger.” The Elder Scholar stood. “More tea?”
Ria shook her head.
“If you know about the plot, you are infinitely less likely to succumb to it.”
Ria snorted. “You sound just like Peryn.”
Master Ameer took his seat again, a small smile peeking out over the edge of his steaming teacup. “I am not sure whether to be flattered or offended at being compared to a demon.”
Welcome to my life, Ria thought dryly.
“Do you already have a plan to counteract Lord Izan?”
At this, Ria grimaced. “Peryn is currently posing as one of my suitors. He has, however, neglected to tell me what he hopes to accomplish by doing so.”
“I suspect it is rather simple.” The Elder Scholar took a long sip of his tea. Ria waited for him to continue, but the older man seemed content to just let his words sit.
Ria, however, was out of patience. “Are you going to enlighten me?”
The older man smiled. “He is probably merely giving you another marriage option.”
“I’m not going to be marrying anyone.” She stood up abruptly and began to pace. “It’s all just a distraction to keep the Council off my back. I will eventually find an irredeemable flaw in each of the suitors, thus prolonging the process until there is no longer any point in pressuring me to marry, or until I find another option to end the Council’s interference.”
“I understand, Ria. Believe me, I do.” The Elder Scholar’s voice was gentle, soothing. Ria collapsed back into her chair, even more exhausted than before. “But you have to anticipate the likelihood that the Council or Lord Izan will find some way to force your hand. You must prepare for that.”
Ria’s eyelids felt heavy, her limbs like jelly. For the first time in her entire life, Ria felt old. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t even twenty yet, though her birthday would be in a few short weeks. But the girl who had been in love with Mikhael seemed so distant, young. That girl had only been concerned with leaving Helhath as fast as possible and marrying the man she loved. Now, Ria felt like those concerns were silly, miniscule. She had a country to run, a Council who didn’t like her, a man trying to take the throne out from under her feet, a demon who was bound to her for the foreseeable future, and a slew of suitors she didn’t want.
“And what? You think Peryn is a better choice than Izan?” Ria asked. It was almost funny how a literal demon was preferable to the men around her.
“I think that anyone is a better choice than Lord Izan.” The Elder Scholar seemed to hesitate, and Ria had a feeling she knew what he was going to say next.
“But let me guess,” she said, sinking even further into her chair. “There are no easy paths, and one way or another, I’ll be completely screwed no matter what I do?”
Master Ameer snorted. “I would not have said it quite like that.”
“Great.” Ria hauled herself to her feet. “I’m going to go sleep so I don’t have to consciously think about the fact that my life is a never-ending series of deadly trials I have to overcome.”
The Elder Scholar stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing is ever hopeless, Ria. Remember that.”
She nodded, numb. She would listen to the Elder Scholar, if only because he was older and wiser, and even Ria could admit that she did not know everything. And because despite her experience that everyone would betray her eventually and that it was better not to rely on anyone but herself, Ria trusted the man.
She just hoped that wasn’t a mistake.
***
“Well, Keffleton’s a bore,” Peryn drawled. He was lying upside down on Ria’s bed, his head hanging of the edge. Like he owns the damn place, Ria thought. He was sprawled out, his outermost jacket tossed over the back of one of Ria’s chairs, shoes kicked off next to her bed. She had half a mind to tell him not to get too comfortable, but he’d probably just ignore h
er anyway.
“We hardly know the man,” she argued halfheartedly. Though Duke Keffleton was apparently prone to disasters like spontaneous hurricanes or nearly losing an eye to a stray arrow—that had been a story Ria didn’t really need to hear in its entirety—he was rather dull outside of his near-death encounters. “Maybe he improves upon acquaintance.”
Peryn scoffed. “Please. After you left dinner, I had to sit with him for another hour while he told me—in excruciating detail—about the weather in Moruna this past season and how it’s affected his tenants’ corn crops. Did you know that the ground there is as dry and dead as Keffleton’s conversational skills?”
Ria tried to keep the smile from her face and failed miserably. Perhaps it was unfair to judge the man so quickly, but during dinner, he’d recounted his journey from Moruna to Helhath with the amount of detail one would expect from a personal journal.
“And on the third day, we had bread and soup again,” Keffleton had said, “though it was tomato instead of chicken broth. I must confess I preferred the chicken, but the tomato was passable. The bread, of course, was the same.”
Ria had been tempted to spill her own soup on herself just so she would have an excuse to leave early.
“That’s what you get for posing as a suitor,” she said, not even trying to keep the smug humor from her voice. If she had to suffer the monotonous monologues of Duke Keffleton, then at least so did Peryn.
“If you had just let me kill off Izan the first place, I wouldn’t have had to,” Peryn grumbled. “Although, if he wasn’t trying to kill you, I’d almost like him.”
She scowled. “He’s a shark.”
“Exactly.” Peryn flipped onto his stomach, folded his arms, and rested his head on them. He took note of her displeased expression and smirked. “Jealous? Afraid I might prefer him over you?”
“I’m not jealous,” she snapped. The utter nerve of him. “Just don’t forget that Izan is the enemy.”
Peryn rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, darling. I have no intention of switching sides.”
The demon slid off her bed with the grace of a panther. He slid on his shoes, tossed his jacket over his shoulder, and came to stand next to the desk where Ria sat. Not wanting to be at even more of a height disadvantage than she already was naturally, Ria stood to meet him, the top of her head stopping just beneath his nose. A slow grin spread across his face as if he knew exactly what she was thinking—as if he found it amusing that Ria thought she could ever be on equal ground with him. She met his gaze defiantly.
“I only side with winners,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
That was…unexpected. Ria opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, but still couldn’t find a response. Why is he being nice? she wondered. Normally his compliments were paired with an insult, or so backhanded and twisted that they didn’t sound like compliments at all. She tried to suffocate the small embers of pride that were heating in her chest, but it was hard when Peryn was telling her that he had faith she would succeed.
“And you always cheat,” he said with a wink. “You’re a much safer bet.”
And there it is, she thought dryly. Even so, she couldn’t find it in herself to be offended at the moment. She shook her head with a soft snort, her mouth unwittingly curving into a small smile. He just has to bring that up every time, doesn’t he?
“Goodnight, Peryn,” Ria said, gesturing towards the door.
For a brief second, he leaned towards her and Ria thought she was going to have to haul him out of her room once again. But he merely brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. His fingertips brushed against her cheek in the process, so light she would have hardly noticed if it wasn’t for the almost-fuzzy tingles that spread out from where their skin had touched.
“Sleep well, Ria,” he said. And then, in typical Peryn fashion, he slipped into the shadows and disappeared.
***
Ria thought that she was probably the person least excited by Prince Feodor’s arrival until she walked down into the entrance hall—once again dressed in an elaborate gown of Sofi’s choosing—and saw the faces of her other suitors. Izan and Duke Keffleton had remarkably identical expressions of irritation at the sound of the approaching carriage, no doubt each of them displeased at having yet another man to compete with for Ria’s affections and, more importantly, the throne. Peryn, on the other hand, lounged against one of the stone pillars, arms and legs crossed, with an expression of absolute boredom. Everything about his posture screamed, I’m not threatened by you. It was a power-move, and Ria found it laughably in-character for her demon.
The brassy sound of trumpets from just outside the palace doors announced Prince Feodor’s arrival. The big doors swung open, revealing a straight-backed young man with a tangle of black, spring-like curls on the top of his head. His nose was wide and sloping, his lips full, and dark freckles splattered across his brown cheeks. But it was his eyes that had Ria’s full attention. They were alight with an energy and excitement that seemed out of place in their innocence.
He looks so young, Ria thought. Keffleton was in his forties, Izan in his late twenties, and Peryn was…well, at least several hundred years old, though he’d never mentioned a specific date. Prince Feodor couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than herself. You’re young too, Ria, she reminded herself. Even if you don’t feel like it.
“Prince Feodor of Rüm Bokai,” a squire to his left called out.
“Welcome,” Ria said, striding forward to meet him. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” The prince bowed shallowly. “Though I was more eager for the destination than the journey.”
He turned and gestured to one of his attendants who quickly ran up with a large box in his arms. Prince Feodor smiled at Ria.
“For you,” he said and lifted the lid of the box to reveal a stack of old books. There were at least a dozen of varying sizes and lengths. Ria stared at them, her mouth dropping open slightly. “Books from one of our libraries in Rüm Bokai. I was informed you like to read.”
There was a hopeful lilt to his voice, like he was somewhat unsure if his gift would be well-received. Ria tore her eyes away from the books and gave Feodor a genuine smile.
“I do. Thank you,” she said. A moment later, a small frown worked its way across her face. “Although I’m afraid I do not know how to read Bokaine.”
Prince Feodor waved his hand dismissively. “Then I will have them translated for you. Or…perhaps I could teach you some, yes?”
“Yes, I would like that very much.” Ria cleared her throat. “But in the meantime, please settle in. We shall all reconvene for dinner in two hours.”
Ria was planning on going straight back to her room where she had a pile of letters to sort through from the military outposts that were too far away for her to reasonably visit. She wanted that information sorted and analyzed as quickly as possible. Not that she was expecting a war anytime soon, but even several weeks into being queen, Ria still felt woefully uninformed.
“Your majesty, a moment?” Lord Izan said as he fell in step beside her. From the corner of her eye, Ria saw Peryn tense. The demon stayed draped against the stone pillar looking deceptively blasé, but his eyes were locked on her and Izan.
“Of course, Lord Izan,” Ria agreed, slowing to a halt. They were some distance away from the others in the entrance hall: enough to have some privacy, but not out of view of witnesses should Izan try anything. She didn’t think he would, but then again, she wasn’t willing to take a chance with her safety.
“I have arranged the visit to the military facility that you requested,” he said. “Tomorrow morning you’ll receive a tour of the training facilities and the armory, and you will have a chance to meet some of your soldiers. Is this agreeable?”
Ria nodded. “Excellent.”
Izan cleared his throat. “And as I have the requisite clearance, I will accomp
any you for your safety if you will allow it.”
She swallowed her nerves. She couldn’t exactly tell him no because then she’d have to come up with someone else who could escort her. Her first choice would have been Peryn, but he definitely didn’t have the security clearance that Izan had hinted at. Besides, you need the Council and Izan to think you’re giving him a chance. Don’t act suspicious.
“I would be very pleased to have your escort,” she said, praying that he couldn’t tell she was lying through her teeth.
Izan’s lips twitched into a smile. “Tomorrow after breakfast, then.”
“Good.” She dismissed him with a nod and he stalked off, likely to talk to the Council. Ria resumed her walk to her chambers feeling like she’d swallowed an entire beehive.
Izan won’t do anything until we’re married, she reminded herself. He won’t risk not being made king legitimately. I’ll be safe enough. He’s probably thinking this will be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other. To get closer.
Well, it wasn’t going to work. Ria’s lip curled at the very thought of being on good terms with Izan. As if she could ever be persuaded to ignore all the times he’d sneered at her or helped Jaya humiliate her. Niceness didn’t suit him. She wasn’t sure he knew how to smile in a way that didn’t just look like an animal baring his teeth. But she wouldn’t complain. She would play along, let him think he had a chance. Because she wasn’t sure what he would do if his plan to take the throne legitimately failed, and she didn’t want to find out until she was sure she could handle whatever threat was thrown her way.
Ria pushed into her room only to find that Peryn was already there, pacing. He looked up as soon as she opened the door, dark eyes flitting over her as if making sure she was still in one piece. Is he worried? That was the only way she could think of to describe the way he was looking at her now. He just doesn’t want to be stuck with you in limbo for the rest of eternity, she reminded herself. It’s nothing personal.
“What did Izan want?” he asked, spitting out the other man’s name like it was poison.
