by K. A. Linde
“Your loss.”
“I heard that they called you in for more questioning.” She returned her attention to Ceffy. “So, you might need it.”
“They don’t have anything on me, but it doesn’t keep them from banning me from leaving the premises.”
“Why do they think you did it this time?”
“Don’t you know?” he asked, pitching forward. “Leslin and I argued.”
“She obviously disliked you more than you disliked her though. I thought that was clear,” Cyrene said.
“Yeah, well, go tell them that.” He thrust his hand out at the castle and shrugged.
“So, if you are banned from leaving, then you’re not going on the procession?” she asked.
“Nah. I wasn’t going anyway. Byern is better without court, but now, I can’t even leave the castle to enjoy myself.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
She doubted they could keep him locked inside.
“Don’t you ever want to just be free of all of this?” she asked.
Their eyes met, and for a second, it was almost as if he understood something about her that she didn’t even have to speak aloud.
“More than anything.”
“Then, I’d find a way to get on procession.”
As soon as the Keylani River hit the docks of the capital city of Byern, it transformed from a swift and dangerous mountain pass into an easy flowing broad body of water. The voyage from Carhara through the deep cutting passageway was treacherous and had abated aggression between the Eastern and Western worlds for generations. Once the river swept out of the mountains, it led smoothly to the mouth of Byern’s trade networks in Albion.
Cyrene stood on the deck of the King’s ship with Maelia and watched the hustle and bustle below them. Adults and children flooded the docks and stone roads that looked across the great flat ships tethered to the berth. Even with the increase in guards keeping watch over the general populace, a sense of merriment was in the air. People were calling out well wishes to the passengers, and vendors were selling candy and streamers for children.
She leaned forward against the wooden railing in awe at being on the other side of the cheering. Right now, she was just enamored with the wind in her hair, the wooden deck under her feet, the Dremylon green flag flapping overhead, and the knowledge that she was leaving Byern for the very first time.
The wind was steady, and the sails dropped, carrying them upstream into the oncoming breeze. Behind them housed the five other ships with the remaining court.
Maelia reached out with her left hand and grasped Cyrene’s hand where it rested on the railing. Cyrene tore her eyes away from the crowd to look at her.
“We’re really going,” Maelia said, her voice almost disappearing into the wind.
“Isn’t it exciting?”
Maelia’s eyes cut to the crowd. “It’s all a bit overwhelming.”
“That’s what makes it an adventure.” She squeezed her friend’s hand.
Maelia smiled forlornly as she watched her second home disappear.
Their ships breezed past the Laelish Market with its brightly colored tents, the leveled stone roads, and the city skirts as they gained speed. Soon, even the lowest stones of the outer ring of the city passed from view. Only flatlands, gently rolling hills, and mountains lay in the distance.
“Let’s go below. I’ve heard there’s nothing more to see for a while.”
“Have you never been to Albion?” Maelia asked.
“No. Did I not mention that? My parents preferred not to travel, and over holidays, we would just go to the countryside. This is the farthest I’ve ever been outside of the Byern city limits.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Byern was not what I expected after seventeen years in Levin. I hope you like Albion more so.”
Cyrene hoped so, too.
They quickly darted below deck to Cyrene’s chambers. She had accommodations fit for a woman above her status at court. The bed was large and plush, and she had a full vanity, dresser, and wardrobe. A richly colored Aurumian rug covered the floor, and a decadent silver wash bin rested by the vanity.
“I still can’t believe you got this room,” Maelia said.
“Isn’t it grand?”
“Are you going to tell me how you acquired it, or should I even bother?”
“The Consort offered it to me.”
“You’re in contact with the Consort now? Why am I even surprised? Will you ever share all your secrets with me?”
Cyrene had the good sense to look sheepish. She still had secrets a plenty that she wasn’t planning on sharing with anyone—not now, not yet.
A knock at the door pulled both girls away from their discussion of adventure and secrets.
Maelia crossed the room and opened the door.
“Sorry to disturb you, Affiliates,” the gentleman said.
Cyrene observed the High Order logo on his garb. He was attractive enough with dark features and an open smile.
“Now that we’re past the outer banks, His Majesty has requested your presence for lunch.”
“Thank you,” Maelia said, not hiding her awe at the invitation.
“It is my pleasure. Would you mind if I escorted you myself? It has been some time since I’ve been in the company of such beautiful ladies.” He addressed Maelia with the latter statement, and then his gaze shifted to Cyrene before immediately returning to Maelia.
Maelia’s cheeks heated, and she stared at the floor. “That would be most appreciated.”
“Let us freshen up, and we’ll be right out.” Cyrene walked over to the door.
“I’ll gladly wait,” he said with a smile.
She closed the door in his face and instantly turned around. “Well, he was taken with you!”
“Oh, nonsense, Cyrene. No one notices me when you’re in the room,” Maelia said dismissively.
“He was staring directly at you,” Cyrene insisted. “He hardly looked at me.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter with the journey ahead anyway,” Maelia announced somewhat defensively.
“Perhaps not, but it is a fine time to flirt nonetheless.”
Cyrene grabbed Maelia’s arm and pulled her toward the door. Their escort was waiting for them on the other side.
“If you’ll follow me,” he said, offering each of them his arm. “I’m afraid I know both of you, but I haven’t given you my name. Too long out of court, and I’ve forgotten the pleasantries. I am High Order Eren.”
“Pleasure,” Cyrene said as Maelia dipped her head in acknowledgment. “You said that you were out of court. Where were you?” She loved learning about other lands from people who had actually been there.
“Not far. I was an emissary to Carhara in the Tahne court for some time, and prior to that, I was stationed in Levin where I was raised.”
“I was raised there as well,” Maelia said.
“Really? In which foothold were you?”
Maelia made a swift hand motion that Cyrene didn’t follow. Eren nodded and made a motion back. Maelia laughed and leaned into his arm.
Cyrene gave her a questioning look. She had no idea what had happened.
“Forgive me.” Maelia straightened. “The Guard has a signaling language that they use to discuss military matters.”
Interesting. Now that she thought about it, she had seen the Royal Guard around Byern make slight hand motions.
There seemed to be more and more things that she didn’t know. There was an endless amount of information that she could never hope to acquire.
“Here we are.” Eren released the two women and opened a door.
Luxury seemed to follow King Edric wherever he went. The long rectangular table with seats for a dozen filled the room with a plush green runner. Decorative silver candelabras cast a bright glow among the seven attendees already settled into high-backed chairs carved with detailed carpentry work.
But what drew Cyrene’s attention were the blue-gray eyes of King Edric staring at her
from the far end of the table. Her breathing hitched at the weight of that gaze and the spark of electricity that always seemed to flash between them. He looked ruggedly handsome, stripped out of his ceremonial attire and clothed instead in a loose green shirt and brown pants.
“Affiliates, thank you for accompanying High Order Eren. Please have a seat,” King Edric said.
Eren prompted Cyrene to sit to the left of the King, and the Consort sat to his right. Cyrene thanked him as she sat down, shocked at the reception. She knew the Consort had wanted her on board for the King, but she was woefully unprepared for this.
The ten members of the King’s inner circle toasted to Edric’s good health.
With so few in the room, Cyrene had the strangest feeling of importance come over her. She had been selected for this. What this was, however, was yet to be determined.
Servants placed a banquet of delicious lunch choices before them, and everyone dug into their food.
Cyrene picked at a soft roll and watched everyone’s interactions.
“My good friend, Eren,” King Edric said, “it is a pleasure to have you back in Byern. Tahne has taken you from us for too long.”
“Thank you, My King.” He tipped his head. “It’s a pleasure to be back.”
“It is unfortunate the circumstances surrounding your return. I extend my sympathies at the loss of your brother, and I hope that we can work together to discover the means of Zorian’s passing.”
Cyrene glanced at Eren. “Zorian was your brother?”
“Yes. His research Trinnenberg, Tiek’s capital city, had come to some manner of completion. So he traveled north to stay with me in the Tahne court for he last fortnight. He had intended to be back in Byern in time for a Presenting.”
“That was your Presenting, Cyrene,” King Edric said with an easy smile in her direction.
“Yes, I remember,” she said softly.
Eren’s smile seemed to widen when he looked upon her next, and Maelia sank into her seat.
“You must be Reeve’s sister then. Zorian did mention him. I remember now.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Zorian spoke fondly of your brother. I’m sorry he didn’t get to see Reeve again before—” Eren broke off and looked away. “I just regret not being able to make it in time for his funeral.”
King Edric nodded solemnly. “We’ll discover what happened to him and Affiliate Leslin. In the meantime, let’s turn the matters away from such dour subjects.”
The conversation shifted course as Consort Daufina began discussing procession activities. Cyrene had other plans for her time off this ship, but she listened intently to block out thoughts about the strange deaths.
Lunch ended with the Consort’s insistence for rest after the stress of preparations.
Maelia stood as if to leave and then immediately sat back in her chair.
“Are you all right?” Eren asked, concerned.
Cyrene looked at her friend who had been all but silent throughout the meal. The paleness of her face betrayed her disposition.
“I think resting sounds pleasant.” Maelia covered her mouth and attempted to stand again.
“No sea legs for you it seems,” Eren said. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to escort you back to your quarters.”
“Yes, that would be most helpful, High Order Eren.” She grasped his arm for support, not moving her hand from her mouth.
With worry creasing her temple, Cyrene turned back to thank the King.
“No fear,” he said. “She’ll recover after she rests for a time.”
“I hope so. I didn’t realize the sea could cause such distress. I find it comforting.”
“I think it’s convenient and quick, but I prefer the mountains.” He smiled back at her. “Cyrene, do you mind walking with me back to my study? I have matters to attend to, and I would appreciate your company.”
“I…of course,” Cyrene murmured.
“Wonderful. Eren, please see me after you’ve attended to the Affiliate. I’d like to discuss this business with Zorian and Leslin.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Eren bowed slightly at the waist before escorting a distraught Maelia out of the room.
Consort Daufina dipped a low curtsy with a smile that made Cyrene uneasy and then departed with another Affiliate at her heels.
King Edric offered Cyrene his arm. She gingerly placed her hand on it and followed him out of the room. Her mind was whirring. She wasn’t sure that accepting the Consort’s invitation onto the King’s ship had been advisable.
They walked through a corridor and passed the set of wooden stairs that led above. A guard posted in front of a room at the end of a hallway signaled to the King, and Cyrene wondered if it was the secret language Maelia and Eren had been discussing.
The guard opened the door for them, and King Edric allowed her access to his private office. A hulking desk was the centerpiece, and it was covered in maps, scrolls, strange gold objects, and inkblots. The rest of the room had papers and books scattered about along with two overflowing bookshelves.
As the door closed behind them, Cyrene realized she was completely and utterly alone with the King of Byern.
“You must forgive my mess, Cyrene.” It seemed as if a stone had been lifted from his chest, and he smiled openly as he sat down in the desk chair.
“I believe I can oblige you,” she said with a smile, not knowing where to sit. There were two wooden chairs with green cushions, but one was piled with books and the other had a stack of dusty papers, so she stood instead.
“I feel as if I will crush you with this next question, and I do not mean for it to be so,” he said quickly. “Do not take offense.”
“I hardly ever do with you,” she whispered. Her heart hammered in her chest.
“While I am very glad to have you aboard my vessel, I am curious as to the means in which you acquired your passage.”
Cyrene raised her chin. Her ego was quickly bruising. “I do not understand.”
“Please, take a seat.”
“There are no seats.” She raised an eyebrow as she locked her hands behind her back.
“Ah, my apologies,” he said, jumping up.
Yes, the King of Byern actually jumped up. He cleared off one of the chairs for her, depositing the stack of books on an already too crowded bookshelf.
Cyrene swept her red dress aside and slowly sank into the chair before Edric. She softly placed her hands in her lap, trying to appear demure beneath the seething humiliation she was withstanding.
King Edric sat back in his chair and plainly stared at her. “I want you here.”
“That’s disappointing. I was hoping you would throw me overboard.” As the realization of what she had said caught up with her, she covered her mouth.
King Edric burst into laughter. “Well, I certainly can’t throw you overboard now.”
“I should hope not.”
“I mean no offense. I hardly have cause to laugh this much in court. How was I fortunate enough?”
“Did no one tell you of my presence aboard your ship?”
“Ah, you got me.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and lounged back. “I did know you would be aboard, and I had heard that Daufina approved it. I didn’t stop it.”
“Then, what else would you like to know?”
The King leaned forward over the clutter of his desk and stared at her, seemingly waiting for something, but there was no more to the story. The Consort had invited her, and she had accepted.
“So, you didn’t request this spot or—”
“What? Of course not,” Cyrene said.
King Edric smiled and stared at her like she was a pawn in a chess game.
“Not that I do not want to be here,” she corrected.
He stood regally and walked around the desk to face her. She stared up at him, wondering what his end game was. They’d had a moment in the gardens, but after the Ring of Gardens ceremony, she had seen little of him, yet here she was on his boat
at the Consort’s request. Staring into his eyes, she found that she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Edric extended his hand to her, and she stood before him. He didn’t let go of her, and they moved a step forward until there was little room between them. He raised her hand to his lips and gently placed a kiss on the top. His eyes never left her face, and she felt flushed.
“I think it will be quite a pleasure to have you on board, Cyrene.”
“Thank…thank you, Your Highness,” she said, striving to put some distance between them.
“Edric. Please, call me Edric.”
“Edric,” she whispered, withdrawing her hand.
“I’m sure you need to rest as well.” He walked her toward the door.
“Yes, I believe I do need to rest.”
He stopped her before they reached the door though. “Cyrene?”
“Yes?” she asked. Cyrene’s stomach fluttered as she stared up at the King of Byern.
“If I send a maid to your quarters, will you come to me tonight?”
Whatever part of her that might have denied him vanished from her mind. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said with a smile. Edric rapped on the door once, and the guard member swung it open. “Good day, Affiliate.”
Seeing Eren standing on the other side of the door sobered her girlish pretenses. She straightened and then left the room.
“Come on in, Eren.” Edric signaled once more, and the guard closed the door after Eren had entered.
Cyrene raised her chin and started down the hall. As soon as she was on her own, she all but dashed back to her room. She shut the door and threw herself on her bed with a heavy sigh.
Edric wanted to see her later. Nerves pricked at her, but more than anything, she felt excitement. She rolled over, and something crinkled under her. She reached beneath her and extracted an envelope that she hadn’t noticed when she came in. She stared down at the Dremylon green wax seal.
How did this get here? Did a maid leave it for me while cleaning? Or did someone deliver it here for a purpose?
With trembling hands, she broke the royal seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out the letter.
After carefully unfolding it, she stared down at the finely scrawled handwriting of Prince Kael and nearly cursed aloud.
