Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2)

by Jennifer R. Kenny

  “Thomas does.” He answered her unasked question. “I never imagined I would need to be concerned with such matters Eva, and yet here it was right in front of me.”

  Evangeline wanted to explain it, but there were no safe words beyond the excuses she had already given. Evangeline knew now why Wick stayed silent, and so she did the same. She could not answer and keep Darius safe, and so she said nothing at all. He cleared his throat to try and tempt her to explain herself, but Evangeline would not give in to the pressure. Darius looked at her, and Evangeline looked back and hope she gave away nothing from her expressions.

  “Glais perhaps has come to a settlement, but I will not Eva. Quintus may not have been thinking much about your engagement to his son beyond owning something different in this world, but you make the choices that shape how the world sees you,” Darius warned her.

  “And you see me differently now?” Evangeline asked the obvious. His embarrassment at her situation was impossible to miss, but Evangeline hoped he could calm her fears. Instead, Darius confirmed them.

  “I can never again see you as simply a girl in an unwanted situation.” He sighed. “You feared it was the thing you could not control that would hurt my opinions Eva, but it is your choices. Your choices are what define you. Father taught me that, and while he was quite mad near the end, those words remain true. Your choices give us a basis for understanding your character and your motives. Thomas is…” Darius sighed. “Thomas is a mistake, Evangeline.”

  Darius turned and walked away from her. Evangeline wanted to go after him, but she was rooted in the place, too embarrassed to beg him for the second chance she was not certain she deserved.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  The scream was heard throughout the castle. The guards that stood at attention outside the bedroom of Evangeline and Glais came storming into the sitting room with no hesitation. At the lead was Thomas, and the others took a step back before Thomas opened the bedroom where the frantic cries of Evangeline were growing more persistent. It was an unknown law that someone who understood the curse was to be positioned close to Quintus and Glais at all times in an effort to keep others from finding out. Very few guards remained that could be trusted with such a task, and Thomas had been placed on Glais’ chambers just for this reason.

  Thomas opened the door, and quickly scanned the scene. Evangeline sat upright on the bed, her clothes and the blankets twisted around her as she cried into her hands. Glais, half dressed and looking just as confused as Thomas, motioned to him that all was clear. It was a small series of hand gestures, known by only those who needed to know them and were unmistakable as anything else. Thomas had relaxed for only a breath before he realised this meant the trouble came not from the bloodlust, but other ways.

  Wick pushed herself through the small crowd of officials. People were avoiding touching her if they could which made her persistence easier. Wick did not take offence and did not seem to notice as she sought to offer Evangeline comfort. She was allowed to came to the side of the bed where Evangeline continued to sob although her cries had lessened now. The shock was setting in deeply, disbelief on her face as Evangeline struggled to make sense of what she could see. Her body was shaking under its own command as Evangeline raked her hand back through her hair and more of the dark strands appeared loose in her palm.

  Evangeline turned her hand over, and the loose strands fell to join the others that littered the bed and her clothes. “My hair is falling out.” She said to Wick first, and then to Glais because she needed to hear someone speak in response to her words. “Look at it.” She reached for her hair again and then thrusted her closed fist towards him, and Glais nodded. He wasn’t sure what else to say. The silence stretched out as everyone saw the scattering of dark hair all over her bedding.

  “Lady Evangeline, please evacuate the bed and allow us to investigate,” Thomas said, finally breaking the silence.

  With Wick’s assistance, covering herself in a robe, Evangeline cleared the room. Her hands stumbled over themselves as they struggled to make the cord into a knot around her waist. Barely making it to the sitting room, Wick assisted her, and Sable made tea to help calm Evangeline since she felt there was nothing more she could do.

  Glais pulled his own robe closed around his waist, watching Evangeline until she could no longer be seen. “Someone was posted on my door at all times?” he asked Thomas, although he knew the answer to it.

  “Of course. Your safety is our top assignment.” Thomas reminded Glais, but it did not make the Prince feel better. “Only men that we can trust have been stationed outside the royal chambers.”

  Glais nodded. “Yes, but trust is meaning less and less these days.” He stood back and allowed the men to gather around the bed. Frowning, he reached out for the strands that clung to the blankets stubbornly as if they wanted to remind him for as long as possible. Glais sniffed them, but there was no scent left behind. He dropped the locks he held and let them fall to the floor. “They seem without life. Brittle and fragile.”

  Thomas nodded, not wanting to imagine how such a thing could have happened. “I want the names of everyone who guarded this room.” He said to the nearest soldier who promptly obeyed him. Thomas turned to leave, and Glais stopped him. “Yes, my grace?”

  “I personally want to see everyone who was stationed outside the door. To cut her hair is one thing. To burn it in this manner, it sends an entirely different message.” One that neither man liked. Thomas nodded and moved off to collect the data while the remaining soldiers were left to clean up the evidence in the bedroom.

  In the sitting room, Evangeline appeared to have calmed a little, but still quite shaken. Her hair was still long, hanging well past her shoulders but when compared to the long tresses that she had arrived with, half of her hair was suddenly gone.

  “Someone cut my hair.” She said to Glais when he entered her field of vision, still in disbelief that she had woken up to this grim discovery.

  He looked at his wife, Wick inspecting the damage and Sable standing oddly to the side. Sable seemed as shaken as Evangeline at this new development, but Glais had more pressing matters that called to his attention. Evangeline pulled her hair forward and inspected it now that the initial fear was subsiding. That emotion was being replaced by sadness, confusion and anger all in the same heartbeat. It pained Glais to see her in such distress.

  Glais did not consider lying to her. He believed this was a message that Evangeline’s life was in danger and Glais needed her to be aware of it. Evangeline had shown in the past just how impulsive she can be and how risk tended to gravitate towards her. Glais took a seat on the table, leaning forward as he addressed her. “I believe it may be more personal than that.”

  “More personal? Glais they cut off my hair while we slept.” Evangeline could not contain her outburst, and in the safety of their rooms, she did not feel the need to censor herself even though they were not alone.

  “It was not only cut Evangeline, but it also appeared to be burnt.” Burnt was not the right word for what he had seen, but Glais had no other words to describe the ruin of her hair. He knew this news would not sit well with her. The look on her face made Glais reach for her hand, but she stood before he could lay claim to her touch.

  “Burnt?” Glais nodded, his hand still limp in the air and the offer not retracted as he watched her. “Glais, who could do such a thing?”

  “I do not know.” He fell silent as the soldiers marched past them with the bedding. Evangeline lowered her head as she realised that they were not in real safety. Once the soldiers were gone Glais took a small breath. “Thomas is collecting the men who were set to guard our rooms last evening, and I will personally interrogate them.” He stood, but Evangeline did not come to him like he wanted, but instead she started to pace back and forth in front of him. “We will find the culprit.” He tried to help.

  “Wick. Sable. Leave.” Sable moved immediately, but Wick paused. Evangeline turned to look at her. Wick’s li
ps parted, and it seemed she meant to speak but whatever she had intentions of saying were dismissed. She turned and left through the main doors, closing the thick wood closed behind her.

  Evangeline stepped in close to Glais’ chest and poked him. “You are still in search for whoever poisoned the soldiers.” She accused him, and Glais did nothing as she poked him again. “Am I safe here Glais?” she demanded the answer from him but did not wait for him to form an opinion. Instead, she retreated to their bedroom.

  Glais followed Evangeline into the bedroom, feeling he had no other choice. “Evangeline, please.” Again, he offered her his hand in an attempt to soothe her, but she slapped his hand away.

  “Glais, stop trying to touch me,” Evangeline said and sighed. “You seem to forget just what our relationship is.”

  “Our relationship is young Evangeline, and immature for the time we have spent together, but together we are working on it,” Glais said, feeling that Evangeline was about to lay waste to everything he thought they were working towards.

  “I told you many times Glais, and I cannot make it plainer.” Evangeline looked around their room, feeling frustrated with the surroundings yet had no one to blame for them. “I am trying, but you know I am lying to us both. I am lying got your guards who love to gossip, and for the spies your father uses to keep track of me. I lie for your pride and to maintain the illusion of a committed marriage because the people need to see it.” Evangeline was getting worked up, and Glais did not know how he could calm her.

  Glais swallowed hard. “I am not sure what you mean.”

  Evangeline turned to him suddenly, and never had Glais seen such emotion in her eyes. “I am faking my affections for you.” She blurted out.

  For a second there was nothing else in the room but the look on Glais’ face as he came to realise what she was telling him. He had tried to play the damaging words off as stress, or a reaction to her hair but Glais knew her well enough to know that what she said was the truth. “You are faking all of it?” he asked, taking a step back from her. Never could he see Evangeline the same. He had believed deep to his core that they were working past the worst of it. He believed that when she called out blessings to the Gods in bed, it was him on her mind. Now Glais was forced to question everything. He felt a fool for ever falling for it.

  Evangeline sighed, and when she spoke next her voice was calm. “I am committing to my wifely duties Glais and sharing your bed. I am ensuring the future of Braykith and hoping that Xado blesses us with an end to this curse that plagues your family. I do this for my own safety.” She interjected because he could try to make a reason for her. “Your father has not been quiet, and I have been warned by many that I am replaceable.”

  “I will never allow it,” Glais said, but he doubted Evangeline heard him.

  “I am trying to survive this cursed Kingdom Glais, and now this. Right beside you, with guards at our door, and someone has attacked me. If your father can not get rid of me, then perhaps the rebel spies will.” Evangeline stood there, staring at Glais pointedly but he had nothing to say.

  Without even a murmur of an apology, Glais let himself out of the room. Still dressed in his sleeping clothes and a robe he headed towards the mess hall where he assumed Thomas would have gathered the men for questioning. He would think of anything else instead of the hurtful words Evangeline had just said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Quintus was aware that the trip to Crimah would take longer than usual. In the past, he had visited his neighbour with only the barest of essentials. A few guards on horseback, and supplies for a single overnight stop. Now his men were on foot, a hundred able-bodied soldiers dressed in armour and carrying their own weight in weapons and shields could not keep the pace he was accustomed too. He had made some leniency for the differences, but Quintus could see now that he had not been generous enough. As the sun set on their first day, he was forced to admit that this was taking far longer than he had anticipated. Considering his options, Quintus dropped down from his horse as the scout returned to the main assembly.

  “My grace, the path appears to be clear of rebels ahead.” The scout reported.

  The king nodded, dismissing the scout casually as Quintus took in the sight of his men. The horses were not tired. They were used to harder rides than this, but his men had been on their feet all day, walking through the trees which were slowly taking over the passageways and forcing the men to stay more alert as trails were lost. Nothing on this trip was starting to meet his expectations, but Quintus would not turn back. He had promised his citizens that he would rid this land of the rebellion, a task that he had been avoiding for far too long.

  The rumours attached to Braykith had kept them safe for many years, and perhaps Quintus had become lazy as negotiations were reached easily without bloodshed. Very few even dared to look in the direction of the kingdom before flinching and turning the other way. He had been proud of that achievement, and never aware of how isolated Braykith had become from the rest of Accila. Until very recently, Quintus had certainly felt that the rebellion was a problem for Crimah and not for Braykith. Until the death of his youngest son, he still believed the rebels would never directly attack him.

  Now, there was too much proof mounting to prove that false strength Quintus had felt was nothing more than the king believing his own lies. He cleared his throat, but it didn't do anything to clear his mind. Quintus looked out into the trees, and while he didn’t see anyone looking back, he had the feeling of being watched. His scout had said he lands were clear, but no one had seen a soul while the rebels were inside the castle. They were master manipulators of their domain, and Quintus knew he was just the visitor. Unable to shake the feeling, he pressed his men on. “We will find shelter before nightfall.” He promised, but he could not be sure if he would.

  The unease did not settle the longer he rode. Somehow, the men kept pace with him, but Quintus wanted to turn around. Looking over his shoulder, Quintus could no longer see Braykith in the distance, but he dreaded moving forward. Trees blocked his view, and behind every trunk, there seemed to be dangers waiting in the dark. He had never experienced such an intense emotional response before, and his hand twitched for his sword. A scream carried up from the back of his ranks just as he started to believe he was simply paranoid and nothing more.

  Pulling hard on the reigns of his mount, he turned entirely, but there was nothing to see. The trees spread out in ways that had never been possible before. The clear paths he was accustomed to no longer existed, and while his men had complained of the same thing he had never realised it was quite so disorienting to be lost in your own homelands. Clipping his heels into his horse’s sides, the animal jolted forward, leading Quintus into the danger.

  When he arrived, there was nothing to be seen but shocked soldiers. “What happened?” he demanded. Stunned faces stared back up at him, and he dismounted, shaking the first man he came in contact with. “What happened?” he said again.

  “The trees. They just came alive.” He said, his voice shaking as his eyes flickered from one tree trunk to the next. He could not focus, and he would not look at Quintus out of fear of whatever ha

  Quintus looked at the trees, but there was nothing to been seen. “That makes no sense.” He pushed the man away, and he fell into his brethren.

  Unsteady on his feet but standing the man shook his head at Quintus as the soldier used those around him to get his bearings. “I assure you my grace. The trees seemed to come alive.”

  “How many did they take?” Quintus asked. If the men wanted to believe that the trees had come alive, then he would let them. It would not make him believe it, and it would not interfere with his questions.

  Watching the confused faces of the men as they looked around, Quintus wasn’t sure if the men were counting who was missing or if they were simply looking for the next attack. These were not the soldiers he had wanted to bring and with good reason as well. But they were here, and Quintus felt their lives we
re his responsibility. He could not let them picked off one by one by rebels or tree ghosts.

  “Stay together.” Quintus directed them. He walked towards the back of the regiment. Just being present appeared to help them regain their composure, and Quintus took the opportunity to test how strong his arm was. Holding his horse by the reigns, Quintus seemed to be watching and waiting, but he was listening to the heartbeats of his soldiers. Slowly they found a good rhythm, a pulsing unity that Quintus would come to expect from his men, but even the slightest sounds made their hearts spike. Frowning, Quintus looked into the trees and still there was nothing he could see.

  Climbing back onto his horse, Quintus drove him on little faster than the men were marching, hoping to spot a difference in the heartbeat of his men and those in the trees. Ahead, shouts were heard but again Quintus was too late to see the exchange. These men were not taken but laid dead on the ground. Their bodies were crumpled with their weapons drawn, but they were not used. The dead soldiers had been taken by complete surprise.

  Quintus drew his sword, his horse dancing in place as the tension ran through the air. Holding the reins tightly, Quintus struggled to bring his horse back under control. “Formation.” He shouted, and it was a moment before the men responded to his orders. Never had they been trained for these conditions and no one was quite sure what to do. As soon as one moved, others followed, and the men came to form battle ready circles.

  Back to back, swords at the ready with bowmen in the centre, ready to fire should Quintus call for it as the horses continued to fret back and forth. Silence settled slowly on the tracks as the Braykith army waited for the next attack. No forest animals darted across the leaves, and no birds flew. The silence was unnerving, but the men continued to stay quiet. Quintus knew it was useless. Their foe had been so silent in their attacks there had been no warning. They would not be making mistakes now.