by Dawn Peers
The way he had been treated by Rowan supported the fact that he was out of his father’s favours, and it was entirely possible that Quinn’s life depended on Eden’s good grace. Eden needed to start behaving to keep her alive, but the problem was he didn’t know what his father wanted from him. When a knock come on his door, even though Eden threw himself out of the bed, the door was open before it could reach it. His father walked in, and Eden backed towards the other side of the room. Shiver looked utterly furious.
“I didn’t think your girl would be useless.”
Eden’s jaw worked. “Useless? What you mean?”
“She can do nothing! Sammah is an apath and she tells me her power doesn’t work on him! You must have known this.”
Eden tried to get his mind at pace with the conversation. “What do you need her to do?”
“She’s meant force her father into submission. If she can’t use that ability of hers, especially if she can’t use against Sammah, then what use is she?”
Eden hesitated. “Is she still alive?”
“For now. I’m not sure if I want to keep alive one of those scum, especially if they’re of no use to me.”
“But I’m sure she did."
“She did what?”
“When we beat Sammah, back in Everfell. I’m certain it was mentioned, that she was able to touch him with her ability. It hurt her, but she did it."
“Are you sure?” Shiver’s sharp gaze hit Eden. Eden knew then that he had to be sure, otherwise Quinn would die. “Yes. She wasn’t strong, and she couldn’t do much, but she could feel him. If she can just test herself, then I’m sure she’ll be able to do what you need to do.”
“How did she get better?”
“She seems to be getting stronger the older she gets. I know that’s what they keep on saying. I don’t know if it’s like swordcraft though? The only way she can get the better is by practising.”
“I’m not letting someone like her wield her strange magic in my home.”
“But it’s okay to send her to do in Everfell? And a bit hypocritical don’t you think father?”
Shiver backhanded Eden. “I am the king now, and I can do as I please. If I think her sick ways will help me get that Sha’sekian off the throne then I have no qualms at using her—I will just be fighting fire with fire. What she won’t do is contaminate my court with what she can do.”
Eden still didn’t think his father was justified, but he didn’t argue the point. He worked his jaw, feeling across his cheek. It was the same place that had been hurt on the ship, and Eden was beginning to worry that something was broken.
“If she can only get stronger by practising, father, you might not have a choice.”
“I know that! I don’t have to like it. I also don’t like hearing you tell me what I do and do not do. You’re my youngest son, you’re barely back in court, and you’ve already shown once you’re more in league with her than you are me. So far, you’ve been gallivanting around the kingdoms, doing apparently as you see fit.”
“Everything I’ve been doing has been for the good of our people, father. Surely you realise that?”
“Prove it to me, Eden.”
“Pax. The baron, in Farn.”
“He leads the council. What of him?”
“He has a plan, for all of us. He told me and Quinn before he left.”
“Why would he do that? Perhaps it’s not a true plan, Eden, and he wants me to hear it?”
Eden frowned at his father. “Well…do you?”
“Of course,” Shiver snapped. “Even if he’s lying, we need to know what our enemy thinks.”
“He knows what Sammah is trying to do. He thinks you’re going to attack Sammah, but that Sammah will get some support. Pax is going to wait for Everfell to bleed itself out in a civil war, then Sha’sek will make its move.”
Shiver cocked his head at his son. A small smile spread over his face, though Eden wasn’t sure if it was anger, amusement, or both. “Well, it seems Pax has spent the last few years studying military tactics. That actually makes some sense.”
“So…are you going to change your mind? Are you going to attack Everfell?”
“Of course I am, Eden.”
“But then you’ll be doing just what he wants?”
“Only if I do it in exactly the way he expects. The longer I wait, the more nervous Sammah’s allies will become. They think I’m a hothead, Eden, and incapable of either reason or patience. Well, I’ve waited this long to have my turn at rule. I’ve seen what Sammah’s been doing, and pretended to be his ally for long enough. I know what his strengths and weaknesses are, and I have his biggest strength in my castle and at the beck and call of my son.”
“You have a plan, then? My work in Farn has helped you?”
“Okay, Eden, I get it. You believe in our cause—but I question how she has your heart? Where does that even come from? You know her kind are queer.”
Eden rolled on his bed, facing away from his father. This was a question he didn’t want to answer, because he’d asked himself, and he couldn’t think of one. He knew in his heart that he loved Quinn, but he couldn’t tell anybody why. She was beautiful, and she intrigued him, but was that enough? The day that Quinn had questioned his love for her versus his love Sevenspells had been what gave him pause. Her reasoning had been sound, and Eden’s fears enhanced. He wanted to love Quinn more than he loved Sevenspells, but here he was back in his home, with Quinn in danger, and he was still confused. He wanted to help Quinn he knew that he would, but would he put her first if it came to a choice between her heart and his family?
“I love her.”
“I don’t doubt that, but that’s not the question I asked. Here, let’s tackle this a different way.” Shiver perched himself on Eden’s bed, and Eden sat up surprised. His father even sounded vaguely kindly. “Think about my marriage, to your mother. Do you think that I love her?”
Eden frowned, not wanting to know where this particular conversation would go. “Of course. That’s clear enough for anyone to see.”
“Is it? Because I don’t. I mean I love her in the way that you feel attached to someone over a length of time, that’s not in question. Do I respect her? Yes, of course I do. Does she stir me, or set my heart racing, every time I see her? Never. What do you think other women are for, Eden? The woman you marry is there to enhance your position. They are there to create or reinforce a political alliance, and provide you with heirs to continue your family name. If you want to enjoy yourself, there are whores, waitresses, and maids. I would guess this is your first love, yes?” Eden blushed, and Shiver gave him a pitying smile. “You’ve fallen in love with a pretty face, but she is just a maid. Worse; she is a Sha’sekian maid. She was never going to be your wife Eden, and whilst I can see how it’s easy for you to confuse what you feel for her as love, the basic truth is that you’re still young. She’s the first woman you think you had an emotional connection with, therefore you’ve labelled it as love.
“She’s found this out the herself, even, and you know that to be true. You need to put this lovesick attitude aside, and start showing your Sevenspells blood. You’re not the Eden I made a captain of the guard. I want to believe everything you’ve been doing has been for our good, but the way you keep on acting toward that girl, I just can’t. She is from the enemy. You will never, ever, marry her. The sooner you get that through your head and start making rational decisions again, being the son I can be proud of, the better for all of us.”
Eden felt sick. Everything his father said sounded right. In a few sentences, Shiver had pulled to pieces the inner torment Eden had been feeling and laid it out flat and in order. The broken points of Eden’s blade had been re-forged, and he tried to hold that steel in his soul. Quinn had been trying to do it to him—she been trying to leave. She’d seen this moment coming, even if she didn’t like it. I was time for Eden to accept it too.
“I know what I can do for Sevenspells father.”
&n
bsp; “What’s that?”
“You can introduce me to my betrothed.”
* * *
“Rowan told me on the way here that you’d found someone for me; so who is it? How is it going to help us?”
“Did he? He shouldn’t have; I told him not to. Still, your brothers are both being married off, so I suppose you would have guessed it for yourself eventually. Even River is getting married, and I’d never thought I’d see that day. I suppose war forces the hand, though I feel very sorry for his wife.”
Despite himself Eden laughed. “And which poor unfortunate have you picked out for me?”
“If you get that Sha’sekian girl out of your mind, she won’t be an unfortunate woman. Lady Isabella is your betrothed.”
Eden whistled. “That match is too much; wouldn’t she be a better wife for Rowan?”
“Her father insisted on you, astonishingly. I did insist that my youngest son was perhaps not the best political match, but apparently they see a lot in you. It is a high compliment, Eden, so I need you to take this matter seriously.”
“I will father, I am. I know you need these alliances.”
“More than that, Eden. I need heirs. If we go to war, then our line needs to continue. I have three sons. In any era of peace that would be enough—we are leaving peaceful times. Between the three of you, we have no children of your own, and that has to change very quickly. These marriages are being arranged with haste, and they are not going to be full of pomp and finery. These are ceremonies of necessity, not of want.
This is why it was important you to realise the difference between love and diplomacy. You might fall in love again, but it is not going to affect your marriage. Your wife doesn’t get a say in who you share your bed sheets with; her duty is to provide you with sons. That Quinn is a headstrong woman, like all of her kind, and she’s been turning your head about the way the world is. Women have no authoritative place in it.”
“Apart from the bed sheets or the battlefield?”
“Exactly. None of your wives will experience the latter. You’ll be keeping them too busy in the former.”
Eden smiled, though inside he felt sick. He had to do this. He had no choice. Eden even tried to tell himself that he was lucky—the Lady Isabella was beautiful, young, and sharp-witted. She was well-regarded around court. But no matter what he told himself, and what he said to his father, an image of Quinn blazed in his mind. She would never be his wife, but Eden refused that she would stop being a part of his life. It hadn’t been false. He loved her.
12
“Eden believes that you need to practice in order to use your ability. I hate that you can do what you do, but I admit that I need you. I will, therefore, let you try.”
Quinn tried to keep her face straight, though all she wanted to do was scream at Shiver and tell him that he sounded like an idiot. She had already told him that she didn’t know how to manipulate emotion. What was Eden doing, getting involved? What did he know that she didn’t?
“I don’t know where I’d start, your highness.”
“But you will start, Quinn. You are totally alone, here. You will not be allowed to see Eden, and I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do with Ross, though I’m not inclined towards mercy. If you cannot help me, then you are of no use to me. You already know my opinion of your people. What do you think I’m going to do to a Sha’sekian who is of no use to me Quinn?”
Quinn didn’t give him the satisfaction of answering that question.
“How am I going to practice?”
“There are plenty of criminals languishing in Sevenspells and I don’t care much for them. You can experiment on them. They won’t know who you are or what you’re doing. It will be like old times for you, although you will be in control. I want you to get stronger, but I don’t want you to overexert yourself. I need you to be at your strongest for Sammah, and you can’t do that if you’re half dead.”
Quinn thought sadly of Maertn. She wished Pax had never sent her back across the Sighs, or even better, that she had taken up Eden’s offer of running away with him. He was slipping away from her now. “You want me to start practising now, don’t you?”
“You are keen, aren’t you? If you insist.”
Quinn wasn’t keen at all, but if she hadn’t suggested it, then Shiver would have forced her to anyway. She felt it was better to keep on his good side, especially if her life balanced on the fragile hinge of Shiver’s good graces.
“I know where I want you to be. We’ll start you easy, though. Rowan?” Shiver’s eldest must have been waiting just outside the door, because he came in straight away. “Please escort Quinn down to the courtyard. Her first test is waiting for her there. Quinn?”
Quinn gulped. “Yes, your highness?”
“If I don’t see you improving, and quickly, then you will be killed.”
* * *
Quinn was expecting the courtyard to be much like Everfell’s thoroughfare. The area Rowan led her to, however, was more comparable in Quinn’s mind to a garden. It was actually quite pleasant, and under a different set of circumstances, Quinn would even have found herself relaxing. A green patch of grass was enclosed in a quaint little courtyard. A walkway skirted the perimeter and it reminded Quinn of the courtyard in Farn, but for the colonnade. Low well-cut hedges fenced the path, and open soil beds waited on planting. It seemed like a garden out of the Queen Eleska’s own picturebooks, and Quinn didn’t doubt that the Queen had influenced this little nook of Sevenspells’ stern court.
“Sit down over there.” Rowan pointed to the grass. Quinn trotted silently to where Rowan pointed, and patted her hand on the ground to see if it was damp. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do as Rowan bawled at her again to sit down, so Quinn resolved that she’d have to do her best to ignore having a damp backside. Rowan disappeared. Quinn glanced around. She wasn’t alone. Armed men in the green and gold of Sevenspells stood in each of the corners, and they were all looking her way. Quinn wasn’t considering running, but the guards were telling her beyond doubt, that Shiver was taking her captivity seriously. Looking up at the castle proper, she tried to see if anyone else was looking down on the courtyard, but she could only make out vague shapes. Part of her desperately wanted to spot Eden, despite the fact that it would only accentuate her feelings of isolation.
Rowan wasn’t gone long, before returning with an anonymous straggler in tow. As they came closer, Quinn saw it was a boy probably only a few years younger than her. His eyes were fixated on the floor, and he walked with a stuttering gait, as if his legs did not work properly. Rowan pointed towards Quinn. After an obligatory stab of fear, Quinn watched as the boy sat himself awkwardly opposite her. He did not check to see if the grass was wet. Up close now, Quinn could see his gaunt face and hollow eye sockets. The boy looked like he had Never eaten a good meal, and his eyes darted around in desperation. His tongue darted out, wetting lips that were yellowing and cracked. What had this boy done, to deserve this appalling treatment?
“Quinn, meet Jason. Jason is a thief. He has been caught numerous times operating outside of guild law, not paying his dues and generally causing our militia mischief. We have decided that spending some time in our cells might have a positive impact on his general behaviour, but he returns to the same lifestyle as soon as he leaves our care.”
“Care?”
“He eats with us. He gets water. Both are more than he is guaranteed in his life on the streets.”
“And what am I doing with Jason?”
Rowan addressed the boy, who was sitting cross-legged now, and still studiously focusing on the ground. “Jason, can you tell Quinn why you steal?”
“Because I have nothing, sir.”
“Why don’t you get a job, Jason?”
“Because no one will employ me, sir.”
“There are always jobs, Jason, if you put your pride to one side and look for them. We always need boys on the dung trucks. Why won’t you work on the dung trucks, Jason
?”
Jason didn’t answer. Quinn could give a few reasons why she wouldn’t want to work on the accursed slurry wagons, and the chance of contracting a revolting skin disease would be top of the list. That job was usually assigned as a punishment, not filled voluntarily. If Rowan was trying to force this boy into employment, he could simply order him into that most vile of positions.
Rowan’s intentions for this experiment were clear enough. “You want me to convince him to work?”
“Yes, please. Jason’s reputation is for avoiding an honest day’s work. My father would like you to try and change that opinion.”
“Change it…how?”
Jason’s voice shook. Quinn couldn’t reassure him even if she’d wanted to, and not just because Rowan was looming over the both of them. She didn’t know if she was capable of forcing this child into suddenly having a work ethic. Was that even an emotion?
“Why don’t you want to work on the slurry trucks, Jason?”
Quinn repeated Rowan’s question, trying to get a response with her kinder tone, rather than the brusque attitude Rowan usually adopted. Jason still didn’t answer her. Quinn opened up to him, and was almost rolled backwards by his fear. Was it her that he was scared of? Not likely. They were sitting at the same level, and with Rowan standing armed by them both, he was the clear aggressor in the situation.
“Prince Rowan, could you leave us please? Just for a few minutes? I think it might help both of us.”
Rowan paused, opening his mouth to answer before reconsidering. “I will be in the corner. I won’t be letting you out of my sight.”
Where he stood didn’t matter, so long as his shadow wasn’t over the two of them sitting on the grass. Quinn kept herself open as Rowan left, and Jason calmed down almost immediately. He was still scared, but not nearly as much. “He’s not going to hurt us,” Quinn whispered to the petrified boy. “He just wants you to answer some questions.”
