by Kyra Dune
When the castle doors were opened once more, Charles fully expected to see Richard waiting there. He wasn’t certain what he meant to do if this was the case, though he knew if his cousin were to intercept them before they could reach Jana it would severely lessen their chances of presenting their case to the High Priest.
But it wasn’t Richard. It was Jana, dressed all in black. Dark smudges marred her eyes, but she offered them a wan smile nonetheless. “Victor.” She held her hand out to him. “I haven’t the words to say how happy I am to see you.”
Victor took her hand in his and brushed his lips lightly across the back. “I regret not visiting these past few months. But it was so hard to watch my dearest friend dwindling away. I did you both a great dishonor by indulging in such selfishness.”
“Nonsense.” She touched her hand to his cheek. “I understand why you stayed away. And so did Robert, I’m certain. You’re here now and it’s all that matters. Though considering your traveling companion,” she glanced at Charles, “I think it safe to assume your arrival heralds some discord.”
“Best we go inside before we speak of such things,” Victor said. “The wind has ears.”
“So do stone walls,” she replied. “Still, I suppose you are correct. This is no place for the discussion of important matters.”
They spoke no more until they were seated before an unlit fireplace in the Queen’s sitting room and all the servants, save for Edward who lingered near the door, had been sent away. Jana folded her hands neatly in her lap and regarded Charles. “So, you’ve come to challenge Richard’s right to the throne.”
It wasn’t a question, but Charles felt compelled to treat it as one. “That’s right. I understand if you don’t think I should --”
Jana held up a hand to stop his words. “I’m glad you decided to do this. I prayed for it. You have more right to the crown than does Richard.”
“You say this because Robert thought Richard wasn’t his son?”
“It has nothing to do with that,” Jana said. “Whether or not Richard was his son didn’t truly matter to Robert. He loved him regardless. No, I say this because Robert knew Richard was not fit to be king. The kingdom would not fare well under his rule.”
“Some would say the same of Robert,” Victor said.
“I know.” Jana stared at her hands, twisting the gold ring on her finger. “Yet he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. You of all people know that. Perhaps he was not the best king. He made mistakes. But Richard would be far worse.”
“Did Robert tell you he meant to name me his successor?” Charles asked. Victor had told him as much, but it surprised him to think his uncle would have shared such intentions with his wife.
“He did.” Jana lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Shortly before he fell ill, he informed me that within the month he intended to formally set Richard aside as his heir in favor of you. Only he never got the chance to follow through.”
Charles and Victor exchanged a look. They had discussed at length the nature of Robert’s mysterious, incurable illness and both had come to the same conclusion as to its origin. Charles had been wary of the idea of sharing this supposition, for which they had no tangible proof, with the queen. Victor, however, was adamant they must tell her, if for no other reason than to forewarn her of a possible danger to her life.
“Your Majesty,” Victor said, “I have something I feel the need to discuss with you. This may not be the most opportune of times, but we must talk of my suspicions concerning the circumstances surrounding the king’s death.”
“Our suspicions,” Charles said, not wanting Victor to take all the blame if Jana was upset by his words.
Jana rose from her seat and approached the hearth, where a crystal carafe of wine sat on the mantle surrounded by matching glasses. “If your suspicions concern my stepchildren, then we have nothing to discuss.” She poured herself a glass of wine. “I am well aware Daniella poisoned her father.”
Charles sat back in his seat. He looked to Victor whose expression bore the same shock as he was feeling. It was one thing for the two of them to suggest such suspicions and another altogether to hear Jana come right out and accuse the princess of regicide.
“How do you know?” Charles asked.
“Richard as much as told me.” Jana stared at the glass. “Oh, not in so many words, but in the gloating smile on his lips every time I have the great misfortune of being in the same room with him. He hasn’t the nerve nor the wits to pull off such a plot on his own. It had to be Daniella.” She sipped her wine.
“Everyone in this castle knows her interest in witchery is far from academic,” Jana continued. “Even if they won’t speak of it. The Hawthorne family all deal in illegal witchcraft. It’s hardly a secret. Robert should have had the lot turned over to the Magi instead of marrying two of them. If he had, he’d still be alive.”
It startled and disturbed Charles to hear Jana speak so bitterly. “Did Robert tell Richard what he planned to do? Is... is that why they killed him?”
“Yes.” Jana brought her wine back to her seat. “I told him it was a fool thing to do, but he said he couldn’t make such an announcement without informing Richard first. He paid for his sense of graciousness with his life.”
“Do they know Robert spoke to you first?” Victor asked.
“I doubt it. Otherwise I too would have ‘taken ill.’ Or perhaps suffered some ‘accident’. But I have no illusions about my fate once Richard is king. So you see,” she sat her glass on the table beside her chair, “it is not for purely unselfish reasons I intend to help Charles take the crown.”
“It won’t be easy,” Victor said. “Richard is the recognized heir and that stands strongly in his favor.”
Jana nodded. “We’ll have to go about subverting his claim carefully.”
“Richard won’t be happy about this,” Charles said. He didn’t want to admit fear of his cousin, but a man who would be party to the murder of his own father was capable of anything. “Maybe I’ll have an ‘accident.’”
“No,” Jana said. “Daniella is too smart for that. And she has complete control over Richard, though I can’t see how when he so loathes women. It’s a strange relationship those two have. They seem to hate each other, and yet I know of no two people who are closer. Daniella will want to wait and see how this plays out before she makes a move. You’re safe for now. The real threat will only come if it begins to look as though the High Priest will choose you over Richard.”
“And then I am good as dead.”
“We will protect you,” Victor said.
“Like you protected Robert?” Charles regretted the words the moment he saw how they affected both Victor and Jana. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I guess... I’m more afraid than I like to admit and so I allow it to come out the wrong way. It’s not only my own life at stake here. I fear for my sister.”
“I understand,” Jana said. Though of course she did not know everything and no doubt believed his only concern was the marriage agreement his father had made with Chancellor Rhine. “But if Richard is king then nothing will stop him from forcing Anastasia into marriage. Isn’t preventing that the reason you’re here to try and take the crown for yourself?”
“Yes.” He’d agreed to do this instead of going with Anastasia and Simon so things would be safe for them when they returned. “I’m uncertain. I have second thoughts. It doesn’t mean I don’t intend to go through with this. I’m simply not sure it will do any good.”
“We’ll have to pray to the God Above it will,” Jana said.
And of course, knowing what he now knew, Charles had no response to that.
CHAPTER FIVE
Simon sat on the broad stump of a tree. He was tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Even in his human form he’d maintained much of the stamina he possessed as an archangel and so did not tire out as those around him did. Such stamina was necessary when wandering the blasted plains of the aether where he’d lived
out his previous life.
He’d come to love his life as a human and even looked forward to growing old beside his dearest friends and passing into whatever waited after death. But that life was over now. Simon knew this as surely as he had ever known anything. Charles and Anastasia had accepted the truth of who he once was and they felt no differently toward him for it. But it didn’t matter. Much as he would prefer to maintain his human form even through the pending disaster, his gut told him he would be forced to shed his human form before he saw an end to all of this.
Anastasia was not going to die. He was determined of this. Even if her death truly was the only way to stop the Cataclysm. Simon felt certain his human form would not be enough to keep her protected through everything which lay before them.
And then there was Selene. Simon had convinced himself he could live a life and pass out of it without ever seeing her again. Mishkael, whom he had then known as the God Above, had called him to a higher purpose and he had gone without question. He’d been born again as a human, while still retaining all of the memories of his former life, and was sort of adopted into the DeHaviland household.
During all of this, he’d put what he shared with Selene to the back of his mind, convinced as he was they would be forever parted. Now she was here, standing only a few feet away though the true distance between them must be counted in years. She had every right to be angry with him for leaving the way he had, without a word, only to come back begging her help in saving another woman. And yet he wished she could forget. Or at least forgive.
Selene turned as if sensing his thoughts. Their gazes met but briefly before she looked away again. Simon held back a sigh. If only he could know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. When they found her father dying in his castle of ice she had clung so closely to him and she had followed him into this strange place. But they might as well be strangers for all the attention she had paid him since.
Maybe she was only there because of the things her mother had told them. Maybe it was something more. He certainly hoped for something more. For some faint spark of the fire which once burned between them. It almost felt as though she were waiting for him to somehow close the gap between them, only he had no idea of how to even begin such an undertaking. Especially now, with so much depending on the successful completion of their mission.
Anastasia came and sat beside him on the stump. Simon could tell by her expression she was troubled, and no wonder. “What do you think will happen when we finally reach Oracle?” she whispered.
“She’ll tell us what we need to do.” How he hated to see such fear in her eyes. He would take it away if only he could.
“What if...” She took a deep breath. “What if what we need to do is... I mean... what if the only way to prevent the Cataclysm is for me to--”
“Don’t say it.” Simon grasped her hand. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Oracle will know of another way. A better way. I’m sure of it.” Only he wasn’t. Not really. And it was eating him up inside. But he didn’t want her to see it. She needed him to believe.
Anastasia stared off into the woods. “I wish Charles was here.”
“So do I.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. When Mishkael had sent him to be Anastasia’s protector he was certain the god had not meant for him to come to love her the way he had. She and Charles meant more to him than anything. They were his family.
“Time to move on,” Reaper said, his irritation with having to rest for the sake of the humans and the elf clearly showing in his tone.
Simon rose, gently pulling Anastasia up with him. It bothered him to no end to have brought her to this place under the advisement of two higher powers he could not bring himself to trust. Both Reaper and Fate had aligned themselves with one of the exiled gods and it was beyond him how they could have done so knowing what the gods truly were. If the situation were not so desperate he never would have brought Anastasia to this place. Despite having earlier stood up for Reaper, truth was Simon felt exactly as Selene did about the elder power.
As the two of them fell in behind Reaper, Lorn moved to his usual spot to the left of and slightly behind Anastasia. If one comfort lay in this place for Simon, it was in knowing one other in there group would gladly lay down his life for Anastasia’s sake. Lorn had been her personal guard long before Simon entered her life and his loyalty was unquestioned. If this thing went bad and anyone dared to imagine they would take Anastasia’s life, Simon knew he could count on the older man to see her safely away.
Simon himself would willingly shed his humanity and face off even with a higher power for her sake. It was confrontation he could never hope to win, but such a diversion would give Lorn a chance to help Anastasia escape. Mishkael had sent him to the lower plane to lose his life if necessary to protect her. And though Simon had foresworn his oath to the god, he had another, better reason to yet lay down his life if it was asked of him. Love.
CHAPTER SIX
Mark held the squirming pup to the light so he could get a better look. He smiled. Another male. Four in a littler of six. King Robert would be pleased. Mark’s smile faded. He shook his head as he gently placed the pup with his siblings. He continued to think on the late king as if he were still alive. His mind simply couldn’t accept the man’s death, even though he knew all the truth of the circumstances surrounding it. A truth he’d gotten straight from Daniella’s lips.
King Robert had been fond of the hounds. A feeling the two men, who otherwise had nothing in common, had shared. As head breeder of the prized dogs, Mark had come into more personal contact with the king than most other castle servants.
He never would have presumed to go so far as to claim the king a friend, but they were connected by a mutual appreciation of the creatures and had frequently carried out long conversations concerning their breeding. The king took great pride in his hounds being the finest in Hyacinth, and yet was always seeking means of improvement.
Thus, Mark’s position was a rather high one in the king’s eyes. Something which he had no doubt was going to change once Richard took the throne. The Crowned Prince had regard for neither man nor beast, and might even go so far as to have the hounds slain. Mark certainly wouldn’t put it past him. And if he did choose such a course, Mark wouldn’t have the power to stop it. Still, if given enough forewarning, he might find a way to at least save some of them.
“Don’t you worry, Sapphire,” he crouched down to pet the weary mother, “you and yours will be well taken care of. I promise.”
“Sweet talking a new lady friend?”
Mark’s heartbeat doubled at the sound of the familiar voice. He rose to his feet and turned to face Daniella. “Sometimes it’s nice to talk to a bitch who can’t talk back.”
Daniella arched an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, do you mean to imply with such a remark?”
“Oh, I’m not implying anything, your Highness. I believe my meaning is quite clear.” Being this close to her never failed to stir a heat inside of him. Knowing his was a hopeless infatuation did nothing to dampen the fire. He was not so foolish as to think he could ever have her heart, but nor was he wise enough to resist what part of her he could have.
“Still taking lessons on manners from your mutts, I see,” Daniella said.
“I thought that was one of the things you liked best about me.” He stepped closer, closing the space between them.“My lack of manners.”
She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him through her lashes. “And what makes you think I like anything about you?”
“A little birdie told me.” He slid one arm around her waist, pulled her close before pressing his lips roughly to hers.
Daniella placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and pulled back as much as she could. “Not here. Someone might see.”
“Isn’t the risk half the fun?” He nuzzled the side of her neck.
“Not when the High Priest is here.” Her nails dug into his shoulder as she strained against hi
s embrace. “It’s one thing for the servants to gossip and another for our little trysts to endanger my brother’s chance at the throne. Let go of me.”
Mark released her. Much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew the difference between mock protests and a serious no. “Forgive me, I’d forgotten the High Priest would arrive today.” He straightened his shirt. “But why worry? He can’t leave the kingdom with no king and isn’t as if anyone but Richard has a claim to the throne.”
“Such words only prove your ignorance,” she snapped. “Have you also forgotten we have a cousin with as much royal blood in his veins as flows through ours?”
“Lord Charles?” Mark asked. “He wants the throne? But surely you don’t think he can convince the High Priest to give him the crown over the king’s only son.” He studied her face. “Do you?”
“I don’t know.” Daniella paced away from him. “I warned my brother not to pursue Anastasia until after the crowning. But did he listen? No. Instead, he went behind my back and sent the Chancellor to Duke Ulric’s estate to demand her hand with thinly veiled threats. And Charles knows exactly why he wants her.” She huffed. “Our cousin never would have sought the throne before, but with his sister’s safety at stake there’s no telling what he might do. And if he’s determined enough, he could ruin everything.”
“If I know you like I think I do,” he smirked, “then I’m sure you have something in mind in case he does try to snatch the crown.”
“I have an idea, but I’d rather not speak on it at the moment. Hopefully, no action will be necessary. I’ve done enough to assure Richard the throne. I’d thought my work done. But then he had to go and make some fool move on his own.” She sighed, stopped with her back to him and her arms crossed. “I swear, he is such a nuisance. If only a woman could hold the throne. Then I wouldn’t need Richard.”
