The Wayward Prince (The Redfern Legacy Book 1)
Page 21
“I know.” I huffed. “I’m just sick of everyone treating me like some delicate flower.” I tightened a buckle on my jacket.
“I’m not treating you like a delicate flower. I’m treating you like every other student I’ve instructed.” He pointed to the center of the ring. “Now, you can get back in and allow me to teach you the right way, or you can go back to the king’s chambers and read some silly book while you pretend like you aren’t staring at Aydan.”
“Fuck you,” I spat, blushing.
“You’re not my type.”
I shoved him in the chest and began to walk past him and out of the ring, when he grabbed me. I cried out as he twisted one arm behind my back and locked his own across my neck.
“Let—me—go!” I choked out angrily.
“No,” he grunted as I struggled. “Escape. Get out of the hold.” I thrashed and the arm around my neck tightened. My mind raced. What do I do? What’s available? Feet—my feet were not restrained. I slammed my heel into Gerridan’s instep. He jerked, and then, without thinking, I threw my head backward, into his nose. Twice. He let go when the second hit resulted in an unsettling crunch. I gasped and hit my knees, hand at my throat. When I looked up, Gerridan was rustling around in a satchel for a handkerchief as blood poured freely from his nose. He gave up and stripped off his shirt to press to his face.
“I’m sorry,” I said, still catching my breath. “I shouldn’t have questioned your lesson.”
“Gods, Shaye,” he said, voice nasal and muffled through the fabric. “Question me all you want. I’m not above being questioned. Just don’t think I’d ever treat you any differently than anyone else who sits beside me in the Cabinet, or who joins me in this ring.”
“I don’t want to be weak.”
“You’re not,” he assured me. “You have an enormous amount of power within you right now, and I’m not just talking about the magic. You’re good for the Cabinet, you’re good for Ayzelle. You’re going to do great things for Medeisia, but first you’re going to have to learn that not everyone who’s trying to teach you something thinks they’re better than you, or that you’re weak.” He pulled the shirt away from his nose, which was clearly broken.
“Good gods, Shaye, what’d you do to him?” called Hannele’s voice from a few yards away.
“A new maneuver,” Gerridan joked. “I’ll be fine.”
“Here.” I waved my hand in front of his face. The blood disappeared, but his nose was nearly black with bruising and swollen twice its size. “Fuck,” I whispered.
“I came to tell you both that the final draft of the Sylvannian trade agreement is complete. The extended council wants you to look it over when you’re finished. They’ll need signatures,” Hannele said, now standing just on the other side of the short wall.
“Thanks,” the emissary replied. “We’ll be there shortly.” She shrugged and walked back toward the castle. As I packed my things, I saw that Gerridan’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight.
“You’re one to talk about pretending you’re not staring,” I teased as I picked up his satchel and threw it over my shoulder.
“I’ve never pretended I wasn’t staring at Hannele,” he said. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes.” The joke didn’t cover the longing in his voice, and I knew better than to pry further.
Not much later, Gerridan and I arrived back at the king’s chambers and found our friends in the dining room.
“I told you,” Hannele said with a smirk. She held out a hand to Alastair, who grumbled and gave her a few coins.
“Nice work,” Aydan said as he examined his friend’s nose. Then to Gerridan, he added, “Jemma should be able to fix that right up.”
“I’m not too worried about it,” Gerridan replied. “I’m just glad she didn’t freeze my eyes or burn off my hair.”
“The night is still young,” I quipped, striding to the drink table and pouring a glass of brandy each for myself and the emissary. Aydan barked a laugh while Gerridan grumbled, downed his drink, and set off to see the healer.
~
My lesson with Aydan that night was uneventful, except for Alastair’s interruption to tell me he couldn’t keep our meeting the following morning. There had been some sort of scuffle between officers back in Sylvanna, and he would need to effuge there to sit in on the reprimands.
Instead, the rest of us joined the Ayzellen Council to discuss our upcoming visit to Sylvanna. It was my first council meeting since the accident, and I couldn’t help but notice that Lord Declan looked rather put out that I was back on my feet. After thirty minutes of what felt like an interrogation from the lord regarding what should be expected of our visit to Sylvanna, Gerridan and I signed the document the council had drafted, making it now ready to be presented to Solandis and Priamos. Afterward, we found ourselves in the great hall. Several families of the nobility had descended on the castle today. I was beside Aydan, observing while he chatted politely with a woman who wore both an ancient dusty gray wig and a face caked with makeup two shades too light for her skin. Aydan shot me a sidelong glance that screamed for a rescue, and I was about to open my mouth when the hall doors flew open.
A gaunt, ghost-like man stormed in, covered in ragged clothing and yet dripping in gold and jewels. He headed straight for me. A guard stepped out but did not stop him as he took my hand and fell to his knees before me in the center of the great hall.
“Ehnara has truly blessed us!” the man cried out to the now silent hall. “The lost princess, daughter of the Martyr King Ronan, has come home to us!” I tried to take my hand away, but he held fast. He kissed my hand and gazed up at me, eyes welled over with tears. “Blessed Lady of House Redfern, the one true Queen of Medeisia—Queen Shaye, I am your humble servant. My forces stand by on the grounds to await your command.”
I thought my heart would fall out of my chest. “I am not your queen. Lord Ronan was no king. I hold no claim to House Redfern.”
“Good and gentle queen, I have received your letters! I declare you now and forever our gracious ruler—the true, goddess-blessed queen. Your throne awaits.” I finally extricated my hand from his clutches.
“I have sent no letters. This is a cruel joke, and you have spoken the words of traitors.” I turned to the guard beside me. “Take this man outside to be flogged.” The man drew letters from his pocket, folded parchment bearing the wax seal of the Chief Advisor. Letters from my desk. .
“You told me to present this to you upon my arrival.” He pressed one into my hand. I dropped it as though burned.
“I have sent no letters,” I insisted. “Guards, take him away.” I looked to Aydan, who said nothing, but now held the parchment open, reading in silence. He looked up at me, rage behind his eyes.
“This is a command to the remaining lords of House Redfern to gather their forces and lead an attack on this castle, written in your hand. You instruct them to show no mercy if I do not stand aside.”
Wide-eyed, I opened my mouth to deny it, but before I could, the guard standing beside the king shoved his blade through the side of Aydan’s neck. I screamed.
“No! NO! STAND DOWN!” I was on my knees beside Aydan, holding my hand to his throat as he choked on blood, clawing at my hands and his own neck. Shock and betrayal replaced the rage in his face as he stared at me. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and I heard screams, swords crashing against each other, and the doors to the great hall breaking down as the Redfern forces filled the room, slaughtering all who stood around me. My own screams filled my ears, and my head bowed under the weight of the bloodstained crown the ghostly man placed there. I held Aydan, still crying out for him to hold on—“Don’t go, don’t go, please—stay with me!”—until the stars behind his eyes went out. I screamed his name again and again, shaking Aydan’s body. “Please, don’t go, don’t leave me—”
Rough hands grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet even as I fought against them, thrashing, fighting—
“Shaye!”
“You’re okay,” I croaked.
“So are you,” he replied. His thumb brushed over the cut that remained on my cheek. “It’s been a long time since we’ve met in the night like this.” New tears spilled over onto my cheeks.
“I must have forgotten to take my tincture,” I said. I realized he still held me against his bare skin. I took a step back and searched my bedside table for the bottle of lavender liquid. It had dropped into the drawer where I kept my new copy of Enchanted, Enchanting. “Oh.” I sniffed as I held it up to show him. It was empty.
“Go see Jemma in the morning. She keeps that sort of thing on hand.” I nodded.
After a pause, I looked around at my disheveled room and said, “So, the wind?”
“It seems you’ve been gifted with control of yet another element. Air.”
My voice shook as I said, “It never ends.” Aydan’s hands reached for mine. I didn’t step away.
“There’s an answer somewhere. We just have to find it. It won’t be like this forever.” I wanted to believe him. “You should get some rest.” Aydan waved his hand, and my room returned to order. Catchfly poked her head out from beneath the bed, where she had hidden from the storm.
“Sorry, girl,” I said, patting her head lightly. She meowed grumpily and found her place on a pillow while Aydan helped me into bed. He placed the covers back over me, tucking me in for the night. His hand rested on my hair again.
“I can pull up a chair if you want me to stay,” he said, and I remembered the night he watched over me while I slept. It felt like a century ago.
“I’ll be okay. It’s only a few hours ’til light anyway.”
“If you need anything . . . well, you know where to find me if you need anything.”
“Isn’t it my job to take care of you?” I tried to joke as he turned to leave. He smiled sadly.
“We can take turns,” he said. “Good night, Shaye.”
“Good night.”
Chapter Thirty
Aydan made no mention of our encounter the next day, and based on the rest of the Cabinet’s silence on my most recently discovered ability, I assumed he didn’t tell them. For the next three days, Alastair remained in Sylvanna. I continued my training with Gerridan in the mornings, followed by meetings and reports throughout the day before my lessons with Aydan in the evening. He tried his best to instruct me and gain a better grasp on the elemental magic within me, but most of his efforts were futile. The sorcery we practiced had been nearly mastered, aside from effuging, which still eluded me, but short of cuffing me in silver, there was no way we could find to gain a definite hold over the less savory abilities at my disposal.
On the fourth morning after my nightmare, I stood in the foyer, waiting for Alastair. He’d returned the night before and sent a message with Elise to tell me to be ready at sunrise. The sun had risen half an hour ago, and now I tapped my foot, impatiently waiting for the usually punctual general.
Gerridan emerged from his bedroom. “Shouldn’t you be in the ring by now?”
“Alastair hasn’t come out yet.”
“That’s strange,” he said, looking back down the corridor. “Have you knocked for him?”
“No,” I said.
“Well.” He shrugged. “Go knock, then. He’s probably just having a lie-in. The Sylvannian Council takes a lot out of you.” I sighed and left Gerridan in the foyer while I approached the Lord General’s door.
The truth was, I didn’t feel I knew Alastair well enough to be banging down his door for combat training. He was quieter, more withdrawn, than the others. He was of course always friendly enough, and perfectly polite, but standoffish. When I raised my fist to his door, it felt like an intrusion. I knocked twice, and the door pushed open. It must not have been latched completely.
I stepped in carefully, not wanting to wake him if he was in fact still asleep, but the room was empty. I was turning to leave when a glimmer caught my eye.
On the bedside table stood a small gold frame containing a sketched portrait. I picked it up, blinking several times at the drawing as I tried to understand what I was looking at. It was my face. Or nearly so. A sketch of a woman with curly hair and large eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips . . .
“What are you doing?”
I nearly dropped the frame as I whipped my head toward the doorway where Alastair now stood, his face ashen.
“I-I was looking for you—”
“Put that down. Now.”
“What is this?” I demanded.
“You have no right to barge into my room and rifle through my belongings.”
“Why do you have a portrait of me?” I pressed.
“It’s not you,” he snapped. “Start walking to the ring.” I set the frame down and walked out, not even looking at Gerridan as I passed him again on my way to the front door. I’d just crossed the drawbridge when I heard my name being called. Alastair was walking quickly, trying to catch up. I stopped and waited for him. When he reached me, we both said at once: “I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have gone into your room—”
“I didn’t mean to snap at you, I was caught off guard—”
We realized we were talking over one another, and both shut our mouths quickly. I chuckled nervously at the awkwardness.
“Can we start over?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, then gestured for me to lead the way. We walked in silence for a few moments before he said, “The portrait isn’t you.”
“You said that already.”
“I know. I just—you should know that—” The general struggled for words. Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “The portrait is of your mother. Brina.” My mouth went dry. He continued, “I drew it years ago, and I never had the chance to give it to her before she passed. I’ve kept it in sight ever since.”
“You . . . you knew her?” I asked. Alastair nodded. “I don’t understand. You’re from Sylvanna.”
“Thirty-two years ago, Ayzelle was attacked by mortal forces from Nautia. King Zathryan called for aid, and Sylvanna answered. I was just a foot soldier then, placed with the troops answering to Commanding Officer Brina Eastly.” I remembered Aydan telling me about the attack on our first night in Ayzelle.
“And you were . . . in love with her?” I asked. It was the only reason I could think that he would be drawing my mother. Alastair laughed.
“No, I wasn’t in love with her. Though half the men in our battalion were by the time we were through here. I only like men,” he explained. That surprised me; most people I had met in Medeisia enjoyed lovers of any gender. “Your mother was my dearest friend. I never had siblings, and she was the closest I came to having a beloved sister.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when we first met?”
“Truthfully, I was shocked when I first saw you,” he said. I remembered the shattered glass. “When I learned of your location in Nautia and sent Aydan to retrieve you—”
“You sent Aydan?”
“I did. I asked Lady Solandis’s permission to fetch you myself, but she declined, and gave me duties that I could not abandon. I asked Aydan to go in my place.” Understanding washed over me. “I knew I would see you eventually. I had been . . . preparing myself, mentally, for you to resemble your father. I feared I might unintentionally hold some disdain for you if I saw his face in yours, but when you appeared in the Cabinet lounge that night, it was like seeing a ghost. I’m afraid I’ve
been cold to you these past months, and I want to apologize. It was not my intention to be rude to you, Shaye.”
“I understand. Thank you for telling me.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to find the words. I hope, going forward, that we can be friendly with one another.”
“I’d be pretty foolish to not be friendly with the man who’s going to teach me how to wield a sword,” I replied.
“Let’s go.” He chuckled, continuing on toward the ring.
~
Hours later, I was bruised and sore, with bleeding knuckles. Each wound was a reminder of my failure to block the waster Alastair used against me. A reminder of my need to improve. The Lord General kept his pace slow as I limped back toward the castle.
“You’re a lot like her,” he said. “Brina, I mean. You favor her looks, but your personality, your drive. It’s the same as well. Perhaps you’ll be a warrior too.”
“Not likely,” I scoffed. “I don’t think I have it in me to fight in battles. But who knows? I’m Medeisian. I have all the time in the world.” I kicked at a pebble in our path. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet her. My father was a bad person. But my mother . . . I just wish I could have known her myself.”
“Would you like to see her?”
“What?”
“It’s a . . . a gift of mine. Can I show you?” He offered his hand. I hesitated, but took it anyway—
And then I was at the gate, walking swiftly to the great hall, where I knew she would be. My heart raced with anticipation. It had been more than a year since I last saw my friend. In the great hall of Castle Ayzelle, I heard her before I saw her. I’d recognize that laugh anywhere. The crowd parted and there she was—Brina, standing with the wives of some lords, talking and laughing. I stopped, not believing what I saw:
Rather than training fatigues or battle armor, she wore an elegant lavender gown. Her brown hair draped down her back in soft curls, the front pulled away from her face with combs that glittered with deep purple and blue gemstones. Then she saw me. A welcoming, familiar grin split her face.