by Neha Yazmin
That’s what she was being now—reckless, so reckless—as she crept along the castle walls and headed for the Royal Library. The worn copy of the Sea Princess’s tale was hugged to her chest. Everyone had likely retired to their bedchambers by now, but it was still a huge risk to sneak into the library at this hour. If she was spotted by anyone from Court, questions would be asked, rumours would spread…
She had no other choice, though—she had to return the book before the librarians realised it was missing from its shelf. If she didn’t return it tonight, she’d have to do it tomorrow morning on her way to breakfast—what if Parth tracked her down then? Yes, she was doing the right thing, making the trip now.
It had been a particularly hot day today. Malin was exhausted from the heat. Parth had apparently only left the dungeons for lunch, dinner, and to go to bed. As the sun had set, the clouds had been bulging with rain, which meant that tomorrow and Monday would be wet.
Sticking to the shadows, Malin barely breathed as she moved as fast as she could, thanking the stars that Adgar wasn’t one of those Kingdoms that positioned guards every few feet around the Royal Palace. The fewer eyes that saw her, the better. There would be the usual guards outside the library, but she could do nothing about that. As long as she hid the book’s cover and spine from them, she’d be safe.
They wouldn’t report her late-night visit to anyone. Not unless they were asked to do it specifically, and there was no reason for anyone to ask them if Malin had been here just before midnight on a Saturday. Well, she hoped she was right.
When the doors to the library came into view, she heaved a sigh of relief. She had made it without incident. The guards outside barely gave her a second glance and opened the door for her. She loosened her grip on the book, but made sure that its identity wasn’t visible, and stepped inside as quietly as she could. She needn’t have bothered being so careful.
One of the librarians was staring right at her as she halted just inside the threshold of the dimly-lit room, and a shrill shriek of surprise left her lips unbidden. She made to cover her mouth with her hands and the book dropped from her clutches. Gasping loudly, she reached down immediately to pick it up.
“Your Highness, are you alright?” The librarian rushed up to her just as she straightened up.
Malin held the book in a tight embrace and stepped around the portly man and began to walk away, dismissing him with a shake of her head.
“I apologise for frightening you.” She heard his footsteps behind her.
Malin rounded on him and he stopped abruptly. “You didn’t frighten me,” she assured him with a smile. “I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone, that’s all.”
Indeed, this was the first time she’d seen any of the librarians near the entrance of the room ever since she’d started coming here.
As she twisted around to walk away, he said, “I apologise for surprising you, Your Highness.”
“It’s not a problem,” she said and strode off.
The man caught up with her. Walked beside her as she headed in the opposite direction to where the Sea Princess’s story belonged.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Your Highness?” He was eyeing the book in her arms, she could see from the corner of her eyes.
“No, I’m fine, thank you. You can get back to your duties.”
Malin upped the pace. The librarian mimicked her, eyes glancing at her book every few seconds. She bristled, realising that he was trying to figure out what book she was carrying—he could have just asked her outright. He seemed pretty desperate to know what it was—why?
“Is there anything I can help you with?” she snapped as she stopped and faced him down. She was quite a bit taller than him, and she made herself look as intimidating as she could.
The man cowered back a step. “No, Princess, of course, not. I just hoped to assist you.”
“And I just told you that I am fine without assistance.”
She made to turn away from him, but he started speaking. She sighed in exasperation.
“Will you be borrowing that book, Princess?” the man stammered, looking at the book in her arms. “If so, I do need to make a record of it.”
“Since when?” she asked, appalled. “No one’s needed to record anything before.”
“New rules, Your Highness,” the librarian told her, gulping.
“Set by whom?” Malin demanded, but the man only licked his lips and swallowed.
Parth. Her brother-in-law must have tasked this man with finding out what she was doing whenever she came here, and the librarian probably hadn’t expected her to be so secretive. She had to tread carefully now; who knew what else this man had been ordered to report about her? If Parth learned that she was being cagey when asked about the texts she was reading, it would not bode well for her.
“Besides,” she said in a friendly tone, “you saw me come in with this book. You know I’m returning it, so—”
“Allow me to return it for you,” he offered, reaching for the book.
Malin stepped back. “No, thank you,” she said, irritation seeping into her voice. “I’m quite capable of doing it myself. You can search me as I leave, to make sure that I didn’t forget to put it back.”
“Your Highness, I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“What is this commotion? Oh, Princess Malin! Is everything alright?”
Malin turned to her left to see a middle-aged woman approaching them. The Head Librarian. What was she doing here so late? Had all the library staff been asked to spy on Malin? She really had her work cut out if that was the case!
“Yes, everything is quite fine, thank you,” Malin assured the woman. “Your colleague here was offering to return this book for me, and I was assuring him that I would prefer to do it myself. It’s no trouble for me.”
The woman smiled and bowed her head. “Of course, Princess. Whatever pleases you.”
She didn’t spare a single glance for Malin’s book—she hadn’t done so once upon joining them; she didn’t seem to care in the slightest what Malin was doing here—and gestured for Malin to get on with her business.
The Princess didn’t need to be told twice and hurried away from the librarians. It seemed that the woman in charge of the stacks wasn’t spying on her—she probably thought that the Royal Family could come and go whenever they wanted, do whatever their hearts desired. Either that or the Head Librarian was the world’s best actor and therefore more dangerous than her portly little subordinate.
Two things were for certain: Once Malin left this room, she wouldn’t be able to return, and she wouldn’t be able to take the first edition of the Tale of the Sea Princess with her. If she found it, that is.
She didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf that the other versions were on. If she did start looking elsewhere, how could she be sure that no one was following her? Watching her? No. She had to take a roundabout route to the book’s case, being extra vigilant as she moved, return the book to its rightful place, and leave the library as soon as possible.
If the first edition was in the Royal Library, there was no way for her to find it or read it. But it was very important that she found another copy of it. Her gut feeling was that the first version of the Sea Princess’s story would be very different to the other two.
And the more she thought about it, the more she felt certain that the identity of Nayn Rametti was very significant, too.
Aaryana and Wyett jumped apart. Aaryana pushed her hood away and whipped her head from side-to-side, but she couldn’t see anything. The new level of darkness was blinding.
Horses were whinnying, people were screaming, swords could be heard being unsheathed from their scabbards. Footsteps pounded the earth. Her first thought was why hadn’t she thought to bring some matches and a candle, even a small oil lamp. Her second thought was: Where’s Seth?
“Seth? Seth!” she called out, running towards what she thought was the last place she’d seen the youngest Prince—by the trees
where the unclaimed men had formed their ring.
She bumped into a couple of people moving in the opposite direction to her, but she shouldered her way through them, desperate to get to Seth.
“Wait!” Wyett had been running alongside her.
He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to a stop. She could just about make out his face; he’d taken his hood off, too.
“I’ll find Seth and Quin,” he said urgently. “You go to Father.”
“I will.”
She turned on the spot and took off, hoping she was heading in the right direction. Was the King still by the edge of the clearing where she’d last seen him? Would his men try to get him back to the Palace? It would be a quick escape to safety if he managed to get himself on his warhorse, but he wasn’t in armour, which would leave his back exposed to arrows.
He hadn’t been wearing white, either. Like Seth, the King had worn dark blue clothes today, and it was both a blessing and a curse. The rebels wouldn’t be able to find him easily as his dark cloak blended him into the night, but the people that wanted to protect him were probably also struggling to flock to him as well.
As she neared the tree line, she could make out a small group of people in white robes, rolling around on the floor. They’ve been hurt. She wanted to help them, but the King was her priority. Wyett had trusted her to keep his father safe. She had to find him before Micah did. As she halted by the injured people on the ground, she couldn’t see anyone else in this area. No Royal Guards, no rebels, nothing.
Suddenly, the darkness ahead of her was illuminated, and she could see the dense trees of the forest. Someone was running towards her, holding a lantern that swung with their movement. From the size and shape of the person that was coming out of the woods, Aaryana thought it was a woman. She was dressed in black robes and hobbling a little. Just in case it was a rebel, Aaryana took an offensive stance, ready to tackle the woman to the grass as she approached her.
“Lady Aaryana!” said a surprised voice.
“Erisa?”
The girl dropped to her knees. Aaryana rushed to keep her lantern from hitting the ground and going out. This was exactly what she needed. She grabbed the handle of the lantern and held it up to Erisa’s face. The girl seemed unharmed. She had probably been hobbling due to uncomfortable shoes.
Which begged the question… “Why were you running out of the forest? Why didn’t you stay there?”
The girl must have taken refuge in the trees when the rebels attacked. She shouldn’t have come out.
“I was coming to find you,” Erisa panted as she rose to her feet.
“Me? Why?”
The girl grabbed Aaryana’s shoulders. “I couldn’t keep up. So, I came to get you. You have to help him. You have to save him.”
“Who?”
“The King! They chased him into the forest,” Erisa cried. “I followed them, but they were too fast for me.”
“Show me which way they went,” Aaryana demanded.
Erisa pointed to the trees behind her. “There’s a small trail; follow it and you should be able to catch up with them. Go, you have to hurry.”
Aaryana plunged into the woods, lantern in one hand and holding up her robes with the other. There wasn’t much of a trail, just gaps between the trees that were large enough for an adult to squeeze through. She couldn’t run; there just wasn’t enough flat ground or a clear path. At least she was wearing boots. The long robes meant that no one could see the shoes you were wearing, so Jeena hadn’t been able to convince Aaryana into wearing fancy footwear.
She could have removed her cloak and robes—she was wearing pants and a blouse underneath—but it was better to keep them on; they’d help her blend into the dark if she had to. And conceal the knives strapped to the insides of her thighs and calves. When she got close enough to the enemy, she could pull out one of the blades hidden in her boots.
So far, however, she couldn’t hear anything apart from the crunch of her feet on the forest floor and the rustling of leaves overheard. The rebels must have forced the King deep into the woods. Or they’d managed to kill him. No. She had to hope that she wasn’t going to be too late. She had to—
Aaryana’s foot hovered in the gap between two trees. Something to her right had caught her eye. A faint light? A thinning in the trees? She headed in that direction, taking out a knife from her boot. As she got closer, she saw through the spaces between tree trunks that it was a small, illuminated clearing. She wasn’t sure what the light source was. There weren’t any sounds to suggest that it was the place where the rebels had cornered the King, no signs of life. Still, she moved vigilantly, quietly .
This gap in the woods was no bigger than a small alley and there were plenty of trees to hide behind. She could be surrounded by rebels if she let her guard down for a second. But nothing got in her way as she reached the last tree before the clearing—
Her breath caught at what she saw. The light of her lantern combined with the light that was already there and silhouetted a large shape sprawled on the ground.
Quickly, it became clear that it was a person, for no animal would be wearing a cloak of dark velvet with fur trimming. It was as familiar as it was frightening. Aaryana had seen this cloak less than an hour ago, worn by the King of Roshdan.
She wanted to go to him, but she kept still, thinking. If the King had been hurt—he wasn’t dead; she could swear he was breathing—why wasn’t Micah standing over his body, readying to kill? Were the rebels waiting for Wyett to come to his father’s aid so they could slay him, too?
No. Micah didn’t want Wyett dead. Perhaps he just wanted to hold the Prince captive as he took the Throne following King Keyan’s death? If Wyett remained a free man, he could challenge Micah for the Crown—and he would win. Wyett would have to be imprisoned before his cousin stole the Kingdom from him.
Micah and his men were around here somewhere, watching from the shadows, waiting to pounce. Well, she’d take the fight to them if they really wanted one. Slowly, she dropped back a few feet and moved along the trees, searching the perimeter of the clearing, blade poised to strike.
Nothing.
As she got to the other side of the clearing, she saw that it was a lantern that was lighting the space. It was on the ground next to the King, his entire body covered by the cloak. This meant that someone had thrown the garment over him. He couldn’t have collapsed with his cloak covering him so completely.
He’s breathing faster now. Was he gaining consciousness? Aaryana sped up her search. When she was certain that no one was guarding the King’s body, she rushed towards him. If the rebels had taken position further away, she’d be able to hear them approach, and have enough time to plan her next move.
At the penultimate step, she halted. What if it’s a trap? Setting down her lantern on the grass, Aaryana retrieved the other knife from her boot and pointed it at the person under the King’s cloak. She positioned her other arm in a defensive stance, shielding her heart.
“Your Majesty?” she asked, feigning concern and trepidation. “Your Majesty, are you alright?”
No response.
“Can you hear me, Your Majesty?” She bent her legs and poked the velvet with the tip of her blade. “Majesty?”
She gasped as the figure began to stir. King or no, she had to unveil them and get back into position before they were fully alert. Aaryana used her knife to throw off the cloak in one quick motion and found an arrow poised five inches from her throat.
An arrow of a crossbow slightly smaller than her own. In the hands of the person that had been lying on the ground.
Rozlene.
Stunned, Aaryana jumped upright, and before the shock wore off, Rozlene said, “Drop your weapons.” The woman was in a black tunic and pants, her black hair up in a tight bun. She rose to her knees and tightened her grip on the crossbow.
“Drop your weapons, Lady Aaryana, or I will loose this arrow. You may move faster than anyone in Roshdan, but this arrow is fas
ter. Trust me.”
“I’m willing to take my chances—”
Her words were cut off by a loud thud; it sounded like something heavy had dropped on the ground behind her.
The annoying thing about something falling from high above you is that you look up instead of down at the object that fell. Which is exactly what Aaryana did. She lifted her head and made it easier for the person that had landed behind her—they must have been hidden in the tree—to bring a blade to her throat. They pressed its sharp edge into her flesh while their other arm wrapped tightly around her middle, her arms within her captor’s hold.
Lifting herself to her feet, Rozlene pointed her arrow at Aaryana’s chest. “Drop your blades,” Rozlene hissed. “Or I will let my arrow loose.”
“If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now.”
“True.” Rozlene cocked her head to one side. “I don’t want to kill you. Yet. I need to talk to you a moment. Now drop your weapons or my friend will push that blade a little bit deeper into your throat.”
“You wanted to talk to me?” Aaryana asked innocently. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” She let go of her knives and stared eagerly at Rozlene.
The woman kept her arrow trained on Aaryana as she said, “Tell me what you know and who you’ve shared your knowledge with.”
“I know a lot of things and I’ve always enjoyed enlightening—”
The knife at her throat dug in, drew blood.
“I don’t have long, Lady Aaryana,” Rozlene said with exasperation. “Please answer my question quickly and concisely. You made a comment to my daughter about her dying her hair. Explain what you meant by it and who else you shared your suspicions with.”
“So, you can lure them into the woods and threaten their lives, too?”
“If I have to.” Rozlene shrugged. She seemed so cold and detached. This was the side to her that she didn’t show at Court.
“I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know about the Fresdan curse,” Aaryana said. Rozlene seemed momentarily taken aback. “Specifically, how to break it so that Seth doesn’t die young. Do you know anything about how to cure him?”
