by Terah Edun
Ciardis’s mind briefly melded with Sebastian’s as she felt him shift in his bed as he turned back to his pillow and got more comfortable. Ciardis realized that he was pausing a moment to think over what she had just said before continuing.
It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for, Ciardis, he said with a yawn. They will plot and scheme behind our backs. Ruin our wedding, prevent our marriage, and even turn the emperor against us. Just because they have another target at the moment, don’t think for a moment they’ll let go of this vendetta against us. You’ve turned the court upside down far too many times for them to settle and just forget.
Ciardis felt amusement flow through her mind. He thought she was worried about the wedding. How wrong he was.
We’ll worry about that when it comes to it, Ciardis said.
In a part of her mind locked away from his thoughts, she whispered to herself, If we survive.
Sighing aloud, Ciardis added, What worries me most at the moment is chasing a wild goose through a field only to find out that it was a scrawny white hen instead.
I’m not going to even pretend I understood that, Sebastian grumbled.
Ciardis rolled her eyes at his invisible presence as she said, I should have known not to use a farm analogy with you.
Still explain, Sebastian demanded.
Ciardis shrugged and said, There’s more meat on a goose.
So? Sebastian asked in genuine confusion.
So if you’re putting food on the table, you want the bigger one instead.
Sebastian said, when did we go from planning our wedding to talking about fowl and dinner?
Ciardis rolled her eyes and resumed pacing. We weren’t talking about the wedding in the first place. That was you.
Oh, Sebastian said.
She could feel him becoming less and less interested in this conversation. That was fine. That made two of them.
For the moment he was silent and so was she. Ciardis knew he was still awake, though. She could tell because the bond between their minds had grown stronger every day since they’d entered the hallowed halls of the Cold Ones’ icy resting place in the north. As a consequence, Sebastian was two floors away from her and could still pick through her stray thoughts.
Just as she could tell that he was calm, if slightly anxious, Ciardis knew Sebastian could assess her emotional state as well. She was as attuned to his emotions and thoughts as he was to hers. The more strident the emotions, the louder they became.
It doesn’t really matter right now, Ciardis said, trying not to have an argument at two in the morning.
She felt Sebastian wake a little bit more as he said, our union matters a great deal, Ciardis. You don’t know how much—you can’t understand how much until you’ve stood in my shoes, toured the countryside and met the people. It’s not just something between us. It’s an event for the entire empire.
Well, there went that attempt at letting the argument slide. Frustrated, Ciardis snapped, I have toured the empire and been through or to almost every province. I know the people just as much as you do.
She felt Sebastian roll his shoulders in bed and smile smugly. Running through each of the quadrants on a death mission isn’t touring. The only people you were meeting were the dead and dying. You may think you know the people, but the only ones you know are those that were so close to death’s door that they could see through the veil to the other side.
The people who most needed my help, Ciardis shot back.
Those people aren’t the heart of the empire, Sebastian said.
That’s where you’re wrong, Sebastian, Ciardis said sadly. It’s the people you forget. The poor. The downtrodden. The forgotten who are the true heart of your people.
Sebastian was silent for a moment. She knew that he could feel the tense emotions running through her. Just like he would know how serious she was about the last statement. I may have misstated myself.
Did you? Ciardis asked pointedly.
Sebastian bit his lip until she could feel a small stab of pain in her jaw, an echo of his. Yes.
Ciardis grimaced. A side effect of the seeleverbindung, no doubt. She remembered the story of Viv and Dirk. They were the most legendary bonded pair she had ever heard of. Active during the Initiate Wars, the two had been able to share every physical and emotional action that happened to one partner with the other. Ciardis got the feeling that was what was happening with her. In this case, her jaw felt as sore as if she was biting her cheek herself.
Deciding to let it go once more, because she had enough on her mind right now and didn’t want a fight with Sebastian, Ciardis said, It’s fine.
Sebastian paused and said slowly, It’s not fine. Not yet. There’s a lot I need to explain to you. A lot you need to learn about....
Ciardis nearly bit her tongue in half. She had given him a way out. Twice. Yet each time he doubled down on his rhetoric and proceeded to plow straight ahead toward an even longer and more convoluted argument. She didn’t need this right now. She really didn’t. Still, she would humor him. He was only awake because of her, after all.
About what? she asked wearily.
About what it means to be princess heir, he said firmly, for yourself and for your people.
In Ciardis’s mind, she felt Sebastian was putting way too much emphasis on a title and a wedding when they had more important things to worry about, but she wasn’t going to bring it up again. They both were too high-strung at the moment anyway. Besides, she knew he could feel her skepticism running through their mind link as if she’d come right out and told him he was being an idiot.
Ciardis said with acerbic wit, I’ll take that under advisement.
I didn’t mean to insult you, Ciardis, Sebastian said, I’m just trying to explain the difference of where we’re coming from.
Who says you did? she said, a touch hurt.
There’s just a lot you need to learn, he continued.
Perhaps the lesson should be mutual, she said, exasperated.
Excuse me?
A princess heir is a servant of the people, or at least they’re supposed to be, she shot back. I think your family has forgotten that.
Stung, Sebastian said, Have we?
Ciardis replied softly, Sometimes, Sebastian, it’s more than tours and the speeches ... it’s the actions that speak of your character. The people need to know that they can trust in their rulers.
Now who are we talking about? he said. The people or yourself?
Ciardis was quiet for a moment.
Sebastian continued, Because I can understand why you don’t trust the imperial courts. I understand very well about the lies, the deceits, and the cover-ups. But the people don’t know their emperor is an imposter, they think he’s their benevolent ruler, and everything he’s done is coordinated to emphasize that. Including sending his only son and dear future daughter to the wastelands in search of a savior. All of it is calculated.
Surprise went through Ciardis. I hadn’t realized you picked up on that. The emperor’s double-edged knife in the gut last night when he announced our journey to Kifar.
She felt rather than saw Sebastian smile. I don’t miss anything my father does, and neither should you. You focus on the short-term goals, Ciardis. But we need to be focusing on the long term as well, particularly if we want to live to see a brighter future. The emperor has set up his games like a chessboard, and right now we’re just pawns moving along with his whims. We need to be better, faster, and stronger than that.
Ciardis looked down at her hands folded tightly at her waist. He was right. She knew that.
Then perhaps it’s good that one of us can think of the more immediate concerns and the other can plan for the long-term repercussions, she conceded.
As long as we plan together, Sebastian said with a yawn that she heard in her mind.
Deciding that she had perhaps been a bit too dismissive in the beginning, she said, I’m sorry if I nearly bit your head off earlier. It’s been ... a lo
ng two days, and I didn’t get much sleep last night, you know.
I can feel that, he said.
Ciardis shrugged. But that’s no reason to ruin your early morning. You should get some more rest for a little longer. We need to be on the road no less than an hour after day breaks. We already told the emperor that we would be gone as soon as Barnaren’s celebration had ended.
She heard Sebastian snort and roll over into his pillow as he sent one last sleepy thought into her mind: A few hours after dawn is good enough, as I might remind you that we only claimed our beds three hours ago.
Ciardis said nothing as she felt him lose focus and descend back into the depths of sleep.
As she turned away from the window and hurriedly dressed in practical riding clothes, she muttered to herself, “That’s what worries me.”
While Sebastian had slept like an angel for those few hours and Thanar had been off doing who knows what, she had tossed and turned on her angelic sheets, thinking about the emperor and the “implications” of her seeleverbindung with the formerly powerless prince heir of the realm and the daemoni prince that seemingly everyone wanted dead.
The emperor had made it clear that he thought well of their soul bond, as long as it stayed beneficial for him. Ciardis had no doubt that he was planning to use their union to shore up his powerbase. After all, having an heir and a princess heir-to-be with such a bond at his beck and call was a compelling position to be in. But Ciardis had to wonder how long that goodwill would last. The emperor had also made quite clear in their audience session that he would kill them all without blinking if they crossed him or didn’t return with the prize he sought. Ciardis felt her stomach twist in knots at the thought that the emperor’s mercurial temper would turn against them if he thought it benefited his cause. Regardless of whether they returned from Kifar with what he sought, Ciardis knew he would have more demands of them.
“If we successfully return,” she told herself. “If we don’t come back with that wyvern’s head and the final piece to the puzzle that was the princess heir’s game plan, we might as well stay in the western lands. Because he’ll kill us anyway.”
Swallowing harshly, she pulled on some riding gloves and a cloak with a deep hood and slipped out the door. As she walked quickly down the hallways with marble floors and fluted columns, she was careful to stay out of sight of the servants already bustling around with the day’s early-morning errands.
Dark thoughts clouded Ciardis’s head as she tried to get to the lower levels and out the side door. Ciardis remembered sitting up in the night with a hand to her heart, looking around at the dark corners of her room with frightened glances. She wasn’t one to be afraid of the dark, but when the man who was to be your father-in-law was as duplicitous as the emperor, she’d be a fool not to be looking into the shadows for assassins as well.
In many ways, Ciardis thought to herself wryly, we were safer in the underground city. Only a few ways in and out, and guarded by soldiers loyal to us at every entrance.
Ciardis was surrounded by luxury now, but it felt more like a gilded cage. One filled with strangers and enemies. One filled with menace even as it shone with warmth. Swallowing harshly, she continued onward.
One more level and I’m out of here, she thought triumphantly.
A gaggle of female servants came around the corner whispering to themselves. Ciardis hoped she could walk around them undetected, but they soon decided to walk side by side and she was forced to curse quietly and duck behind a column.
She didn’t know why they had to walk abreast ... shoulder to shoulder like that, but it was damned annoying for someone skulking through a palace with very few nooks and crannies to hide in. Ciardis took calm breaths as she hugged the marble column in front of her and waited for them to pass.
So swiftly that she didn’t have time to react, a blade was wrapped around her throat and pressed up against her neck, and another person’s hand covered her mouth. Stiffening, Ciardis wanted to scream but couldn’t. She also didn’t happen to have a weapon on her either, even if she could break free from her assailant.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she cursed herself in her head.
As the body of the person behind her stilled and the hand tightened on her mouth, Ciardis’s past flashed before her eyes. She wondered if the emperor really had sent an assassin. If this would be how she died. In the shadowy corners of an empress’s palace, alone and perhaps ... forgotten. Would the court rejoice her passing or mourn it?
Chapter 3
Definitely rejoice, Ciardis decided. Except for the emperor ... he might mourn the loss of the person he treated like a plaything for a bit...until his attention focused on a new toy like a cat with a favorite mouse.
Ciardis felt her spine stiffen and goose bumps rise on her flesh as she listened for any word from her captor.
She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t even regret being caught in such a compromising position in the first place.
She was, however, furious at herself. Out of all the things that had been pounded into her during her training, being prepared was the one that she felt like berating herself over now.
She wasn’t prepared. She didn’t have her Glaive or her knife or her favorite fan with metal spikes embedded in each tine.
So now she had only one option. Watch for an opening and listen for anything that could point toward her killer. If fleeing wasn’t an option, she would do her best to give Sebastian fair warning through their mind link. She knew that he was still fast asleep. Her first shout would wake him. Her second would rouse his aid. But she wouldn’t get a third.
She knew that because whoever was holding her at knifepoint wasn’t an amateur. They’d realize what she was doing, even if they couldn’t detect the infinitesimal surge in her aura that indicated she was performing some sort of magic. The hand that gripped her mouth was firm. Their breathing was even. And whatever else type of fool her enemies were, they didn’t send amateurs to kill her. They sent assassins, whether clothed in a servant’s garb or disguised as a pitiful boy lost in the glamour of the midnight ball. This person would be no different. So she would have two moments and two moments alone to warn her friends. And, quite frankly, she wanted those moments to matter. Calling upon her fiancé, who wasn’t anywhere near her, would invalidate any attempt at finding out information. After all, Sebastian couldn’t do a damned thing to stop that knife from slicing her throat. But at least he would know who to look to for revenge. She hoped.
Then a pair of lips pressed to her ear and said, “Where do you think you’re going, Ciardis Weathervane?”
As Ciardis almost collapsed with relief at the familiar voice in her ear, the knife withdrew from her throat and the person flipped her around and slammed her back against the column.
Ciardis almost protested at the rough handling, but her words died in her throat when she got a good look at her attacker.
Vana’s eyes gleamed from the shadows like an enraged demon as the words she had uttered echoed over and over again in Ciardis’s ears. Where do you think you’re going, Ciardis Weathervane?
As she let out slow breaths, Ciardis trained her eyes on Vana’s form, trying to separate the pieces of her body from the shadows around them. But she couldn’t, as she soon realized that the rest of Vana was encased in the natural shadows of the building and the unnatural protections of her own concealment spells.
“Neat trick,” Ciardis said nervously as she tried to force her mind into coherent thoughts. The effect of Vana’s magic was dizzying to the eyes. It almost felt as if Ciardis was losing her own eyesight in an effort to pin Vana down in her vision.
The more she tried to pin down a piece of Vana, the harder it became. She’d see a hint of cheek before it faded into the shadows, and then her eyes would glimpse a tip of Vana’s pert nose before it too was gone in darkness. Everything except her eyes was near impossible to pin down and see. Ciardis leaned back with unease at Vana’s unflinching gaze in front of her. Hard. Aglow with magic
. Furious. Everything but her eyes shielded by a concealment spell that Ciardis couldn’t begin to touch.
Then Vana smiled, a flash of her white teeth in the darkness, and she stepped out from the shadows and dropped the concealment spells.
Ciardis didn’t take the appearance of a smile as a friendly gesture. The woman looked furious.
Sweat began to bead down Ciardis’s spine as Vana’s hand on her throat began to close tighter and tighter.
Frantic, Ciardis thought, She’s choking me.
The thought of dying, however, didn’t cross her mind. If Vana had wanted to kill her, she would have already done it. What Ciardis didn’t understand were the emotions etched on Vana’s now-visible face. The anger. The mistrust. And even ... a hint of fear. She couldn’t figure out why. Why, after all this time and the things they’d been through, would Vana turn on her?
Then Ciardis remembered the question. The query that Vana had first uttered when she turned her around. Where do you think you’re going, Ciardis Weathervane?
Vana’s voice took on a deceptive purr. “One more time. Where are you going?”
Ciardis felt a tear slip down her right cheek. Just one before she clenched her fists at her side and refused to let another drop fall. She glared fiercely and reached up to pull Vana Cloudbreaker’s firm grip from her throat. It was clear as day, at least to Ciardis, that she couldn’t answer the woman if she couldn’t speak.
Vana stared at her with hard eyes and then she released her grip on Ciardis’s throat.
While Ciardis gasped for breath softly and rubbed her bruised appendage, Vana repositioned herself so that she was leaning forward over the prone young woman, and put her hands on either side of Ciardis’s head.
Voice filled with ire, Vana asked, “Are you really that much of an idiot?”
“What are you talking about?” Ciardis gasped.
“Did you really think running away would help?” Vana snapped.
