Tied to the Crown

by Neha Yazmin

  “What would a dying woman do with whatever information I have?” Rozlene chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s not like you can cure him from the grave.”

  “So, you know something! Why won’t you help him? He cares about you so much!” She let revulsion taint her voice as she continued to rebuke Rozlene. “He’s so good to you, and you just stand by and withhold information about his cure!”

  “I know nothing about the matter,” Rozlene snapped. “They’ve been looking for a cure for years now, with no luck. And you’re in no position to negotiate with me. So, I ask you again: Why did you say that to Erisa?”

  “That she’d dyed her hair? Because she did. She does. Quite regularly.” Aaryana wanted to shrug, but the man was holding her too tight. Her black robes were soaking up the little dribble of blood from the cut in her throat.

  “What if she does?” Rozlene challenged. “You’ve changed your hair twice since you arrived in Roshdan. It’s not against the law.”

  “She lies about it,” Aaryana countered. “I asked her if her hair was all natural and she lied and said that it was.”

  “That’s not much of a crime.”

  Rozlene wasn’t even insisting that Erisa had inherited her black hair. She truly planned to kill Aaryana tonight. All she needed was to garner everything Aaryana had guessed at and whether she’d confided in anyone about it.

  “I saw her with her natural hair colour,” Aaryana announced. Rozlene pursed her lips. “I saw her on my first trip to the market.”

  It was on the day that she’d gone shopping with the advance Guard salary that the King had paid her. Erisa had caught her eye because she’d been in a black cloak with the hood up even though it was a warm, sunny day. The hood had slipped off when she’d accidentally bumped into someone, and her real hair had been visible for a few moments before she covered her head again. When Quin had introduced her to Erisa, Aaryana hadn’t recognised her straightaway due to the change in hair colour. Erisa must have dyed it after returning from the market.

  “And her hair was not black like yours, Lady Rozlene. It was a very different colour when I first saw her.”

  That was the reason Aaryana had been visiting Renchal and picking his brains about dyes, particularly the black dye, so that she had facts to back up her claims about Erisa colouring her tresses.

  “Again, what does it matter if she colours her hair and keeps it a secret?” Though she sounded nonchalant, Rozlene was holding the crossbow even tighter now.

  “Obviously,” said Aaryana, “it matters quite a lot, because you’re going to murder me for knowing your secret. And also because Erisa’s hair is in a certain shade of red that I’ve only seen in one family.”

  She paused for effect.

  Rozlene narrowed her eyes.

  “The Royal Family. The Fresdans.” When the other woman remained quiet, Aaryana added, “Erisa is the King’s daughter. You’re his lover; that’s why he hasn’t married since his Queen died. And you’ve been colouring Erisa’s hair since she was born so that no one would find out about the affair.

  “What I don’t understand is why His Majesty didn’t marry you after his wife passed away. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone; the two of you were childhood sweethearts, after all.”

  “You’ve done your research, Lady Aaryana,” Rozlene said with an impressed smile.

  The woman had no idea that Aaryana had been coaxing Lisbeth and the other Ladies into telling her all the Court gossip, especially in relation to Rozlene. All she had to do was sing Rozlene’s praises and wonder aloud about how the woman was recovering from her kidnapping for her so-called friends to point out that Rozlene hadn’t always been so sensible. Little-by-little, Aaryana had gathered enough information to get an idea of how Rozlene had managed to fool everyone into believing that Erisa was the child of her dead husband.

  Before he was King, before he married Wyett’s mother, Keyan Fresdan had loved Rozlene. It was an open secret that the two of them were seeing each other. That’s why it had surprised everyone when Keyan married someone else. Rumour had it that the King at the time had pressured him into marrying a woman that had only recently come to Court—from a neighbouring Island.

  Later that year, Rozlene married a Lord. No one had any reason to suspect that Keyan and Rozlene were continuing their affair because both had seemed very happy in their new lives. Aaryana knew that they must have continued seeing each other in secret. Erisa was born almost two years after her mother’s wedding and she was born in the same year as Wyett.

  “Your history tutor would be proud of you,” Rozlene said. “But I’m afraid your knowledge of current affairs isn’t quite up to scratch.”

  “Everyone secretly thinks you’re the King’s mistress,” Aaryana said. “Are you saying you’re not?”

  “I haven’t been his mistress since Wyett was born,” she scoffed bitterly.

  Truth. She was telling the truth. There was no reason to lie about this when she was being honest about everything else. Aaryana felt a sense of relief. She hadn’t liked the idea of the King having a secret affair with Rozlene, lying to his children, to his Court. That wasn’t the type of King she wanted to serve. Because she’d admired him so much, she had felt betrayed when she’d figured out that he’d cheated on Wyett’s mother and sired a child with his mistress. Her respect for him had decreased and it was hard to not show it.

  Learning now that he’d stopped being unfaithful to his Queen from the day Wyett came into the world, she felt a strange sort of pride in him. He was young and in love—people made all kinds of mistakes in their youth, when they were blinded by love—but at least he eventually saw the errors in his ways and did the right thing when Wyett was born.

  “About that,” Aaryana said curiously. “Is Erisa really younger than Wyett? I know you left Court to give birth to her; Lisbeth said you stayed at your father’s estate in the final weeks of your pregnancy. So, you could have easily lied about the exact date of her birth.”

  Perplexed, Rozlene asked, “Why would I lie about her date of birth?”

  “Well, if Wyett is the King’s firstborn, that would make Erisa his second child. How did the Fresdan curse skip her to Seth?”

  Rozlene nodded, understanding what Aaryana was getting at. “I used to ask myself that all the time… I think it’s because Erisa is my firstborn, my first child with him—”

  “So, even if she’s the King’s second child in total, she’s still his first child with you!”

  “Indeed.”

  Aaryana nodded. Then—

  She remembered something that had puzzled her ever since she’d spoken to Micah about the Fresdan curse.

  “His Majesty’s eldest brother didn’t leave any Heirs. Each of his children died when he decided not to have more children. But Erisa didn’t—I mean, when your affair ended, that, in effect, meant that the two of you didn’t want any more children together—”

  “We couldn’t have had any more children if we wanted to,” Rozlene told her in a clipped tone. “I couldn’t have had another child if I wanted to,” she said more softly.

  Aaryana gasped. She’s infertile.

  “Erisa’s birth was… there were complications…”

  Rozlene closed her eyes, swallowed. Emotions were betraying her for the moment. Why hadn’t Lisbeth mentioned this? She probably thought it was old news. No longer relevant. Or it was too sad to gossip about.

  “Why do you think I remained a widow?” she asked scornfully. “No one wants to marry someone that’s barren.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aaryana whispered.

  “Of course, you are. Everyone is. It changes nothing, though, does it?” She sighed heavily.

  “I suppose not.” Aaryana chewed on her lip while Rozlene composed herself. Before she changed her mind, Aaryana quickly added, “And the other thing that confused me is the fact that the Fresdans have never had a Princess in the family. How is it that His Majesty has fathered two daughters?”

&nbs
p; “I don’t know about Quin,” she said with a shrug, “but almost every firstborn in my family has been a girl. Now, can we get back to the matter at hand? Have you told anyone what you’ve discovered about Erisa?”

  “What’s so bad about everyone finding out?” Aaryana would have shrugged if she could. “Erisa is a King’s daughter—”

  “I can’t speak for Adgar, but the Kingdoms in the north see marriage as a sacred bond,” Rozlene snapped. “Especially when it comes to the Royal Family. They have to set a good example, follow the laws that they enforce. Why would the average man stay faithful to his wife when his King and Princes are disrespecting theirs? Adultery is strictly forbidden. Illegitimate children are treated worse than animals.”

  “But His Majesty isn’t like that,” she argued. “Micah has his protection, and he was born out of wedlock.”

  “Micah is his beloved brother’s son, his last living reminder. He won’t hurt Micah, but he won’t place him in the line of succession, either. No King would let a baseborn take the Throne instead of his legitimate children.”

  “Micah has a lot of supporters,” Aaryana insisted. “The people would accept him.”

  “That’s a different situation altogether.”

  Aaryana supposed that it was, considering everything Micah and his mother had told her.

  “And we’re not talking about Micah, we’re talking about Erisa. Tell me who else knows about your suspicions. I’d like to kill you before anyone comes looking for me.”

  “I haven’t told anyone,” she declared.

  “You’re not just trying to save their lives, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Swear it,” Rozlene demanded. “Swear it on Seth’s life.”

  “I will not swear anything on his life,” Aaryana spat through clenched teeth.

  “Wyett’s life, then?” Rozlene raised an eyebrow.

  “Never.” Aaryana glared at the woman.

  “The King?”

  “No.”

  “Swear on your mother’s grave, Lady Aaryana.”

  “I swear on the life of my sister Leesha, Queen of Adgar. Let her die if I am lying, but I’m not, so she shall live.”

  “Excellent.” Rozlene smiled triumphantly and her eyes looked dead. “Say your last prayers.” She prepared to shoot.

  Aaryana tried to squirm her arms free with little luck.

  “Wait!” she screamed. “If you kill me, your secret will come out.”

  “Stop wasting my time—”

  “It’s true. I wrote a letter detailing everything I know,” she said in a rush. “If I die—”

  Rozlene laughed. “A letter! Really!” She shook her head. “Who did you send it to? A friend in Adgar?” She laughed some more, tilting her head back.

  “To the Crown Prince,” Aaryana declared loudly.

  Rozlene stopped still, narrowed her eyes at Aaryana.

  “I told him to read it if he ever thinks I’m in grave danger or if I’m dead. At the bottom of the letter, I tell him that Erisa would be the one that kills me, to protect her secret.”

  Though she was making this up as she went, it was a good idea. She really should have done something like this. If I’d known Rozlene would want to kill me…

  “If I don’t return to the Palace tonight, the Prince will read that letter, and he will know the truth. Erisa will be arrested and thrown into the dungeons.”

  After a long silence, Rozlene said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “Don’t,” Aaryana said nonchalantly. “It’s your risk to take.”

  “I think I’ll take it.”

  Rozlene let her arrow fly.

  Aaryana closed her eyes.

  Chapter 10

  Being shot in the chest with a metal-tipped wooden arrow didn’t hurt. But she knew the pain would come later. She would feel the blood gush out later, too. If the man behind her wasn’t holding her, she would have collapsed to the grass, she was sure of it.

  Just as the arrow hit her, a bright light had flashed beyond her closed lids and everything had gone completely black. She had heard a strange noise, too—like wood cracking—and the sound of Rozlene gasping. Probably the shock. It was one thing to plan to kill someone and another to actually do it.

  Aaryana may also have heard quick footsteps, but she couldn’t be sure. Her body was busy being shot at.

  “Let her go!” threatened a voice behind her.

  After a second, she found herself stumbling forward a step—her captor had let her go. And she still wasn’t in pain. She reached for her chest and—

  There was no arrow embedded anywhere on her torso.

  “Drop the knife,” the new arrival ordered.

  A thud confirmed that Rozlene’s accomplice had parted with the blade he’d dug into Aaryana’s throat.

  Opening her eyes, she vaguely made out the shape of a woman standing a couple of yards in front of her. Rozlene. She didn’t seem to have her crossbow. But it was too dark to be certain—the lanterns had gone out. How? She hadn’t felt strong winds. It definitely wasn’t raining.

  “Rozlene,” said the voice that had coerced Aaryana’s captor to set her free, “go back to the clearing. Seth is worried.” His tone was cold, detached.

  Aaryana twisted around to face him. Her vision had adjusted slightly and she thought she saw him standing behind a hooded figure, pointing the tip of an arrow at the back of the man’s head. A man that seemed to have very dark, shiny skin. With a gasp, she realised he was wearing a black mask.

  “Wyett,” Rozlene said in a quivering voice, “what you heard—”

  “You sought refuge in the woods,” Wyett continued in the same stiff manner as before, “but you got lost on your way back. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” Rozlene said quietly, agreeing to the alibi Wyett had formulated for her.

  “Good. Now, take a match—I know you’re carrying some—and light those lanterns. I’d like to see who your friend is.” If the man wasn’t masked, Aaryana would have seen his face. “Hurry.”

  “Yes, of course.” The woman lit a match and went and crouched down by the lantern closest to her.

  As she got to work, she began apologising to Wyett, insisting that Erisa had nothing to do with this, that she wouldn’t have killed anybody, especially not the woman he loved. Her hands were shaking. One matchstick after another kept burning out before she could light the lantern.

  Rolling her eyes, Aaryana approached Rozlene, wanting to help her. The woman would ruin all her matches at this rate.

  “You stay still,” Wyett ordered her.

  Aaryana stopped at his words, but turned to say, “Let me help her, Your Highness. Else, we’ll run out of matches.”

  “Be quiet,” he hissed angrily.

  That lapse of concentration was all Rozlene’s accomplice needed. He spun away from the arrow pointed at him, punched Wyett in his side, making him lose his balance, and took off into the woods behind the Prince. After regaining his footing, Wyett twisted around and shot an arrow into the dark. It sounded like it hit a tree.

  When Wyett nocked another arrow onto his bow—a standard weapon that he must have grabbed from a Royal Guard—Aaryana told him, “Save your arrows, Your Highness. The man was in armour under his robes. I felt it when he held me against his body.”

  The Prince fired three more arrows in quick succession. All of them hit tree trunks.

  The man had plenty of tree cover to help him escape. Wyett let him, choosing to stay and deal with Rozlene. By the time he turned and faced her, the woman had the first lantern lit.

  “Leave your matches and go,” he told her when she made to go over to the lantern that Aaryana had brought. “Don’t say a word of this to anyone.”

  Rozlene nodded, grabbed her lantern, and jogged into the trees.

  In the light of the retreating lantern, Aaryana lit the other one. When she stood up, lantern in hand, she saw that Wyett was watching her. His expression was unreadable. She noticed that he was wearing
a sleeveless gold tunic and brown pants. He had taken his robes off before coming to find her.

  “You already knew,” she whispered. He knew what she was referring to.

  Erisa was his half-sister, and he’d known before tonight.

  “Yes,” he said, barely moving his lips.

  “How long have you known?”

  “A while.” He wasn’t going to give her specifics.

  But she thought she knew the answer: “When you stopped being friends with Erisa?”

  Yes, she’d heard a lot of gossip at Court. She may not have heard anything that alluded to who might be plotting against the King, but she’d become quite knowledgeable about everything else. Wyett’s close friendship with Erisa and Micah was one of those things.

  “We need to get back, too,” he said as though she hadn’t mentioned his severed friendship with Erisa. “Via a different route to Rozlene’s. Seth’s worried about you as well.”

  “He shouldn’t be.” When Wyett raised a sceptical eyebrow, she lifted her chin and said, “I had the situation under control.”

  He eyed the bleeding cut at her throat and said, “I can see that.” So sarcastic.

  Didn’t he know by now that she was more than capable of dealing with Rozlene and her accomplice? She had simply been waiting for Wyett to find them and overhear the truth. At first, she’d thought Wyett would come searching for his father and find Rozlene instead, but when she realised that she’d been tricked into coming here, that the King was most likely by the Lake, safe with his guards, she still expected Wyett to find her. It’s going to take him longer, that’s all, she’d told herself, but he will come. Just bide your time. Keep Rozlene talking. Perhaps he’s in the shadows already, listening?

  Well, she’d been right; he had come and he had overheard Rozlene’s confession. Aaryana’s only mistake had been to underestimate Rozlene. She hadn’t expected the woman to fire her arrow when she did.

  “You need to hide that,” Wyett said, jerking is head at her wound.