by Raye Wagner
“I hope my brother and I will see more of you soon.”
She bit her lip as reality crashed around her, and she pushed out the truth. “I don’t come to court. Goodnight, and again, I’m much obliged to you for coming to my aid.”
“You’re most welcome. Goodnight, Vasilisa.” Henryk stepped back and called, “Drive on.”
To Vasi’s relief, the carriage did. As she trundled toward home, she rubbed the hand Henryk had held, a tremulous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He’d just been acting chivalrous, but something in their moment felt stolen and warm. She would focus on that, and she sat back in the carriage, deliberately ignoring what she didn’t know how to fix.
While Prince Henryk had expressed his desire to see her again, Lord Baine promised he would, and Vasi felt powerless to stop him.
6
Adaline
Adaline walked from her garden to the throne room, oblivious to the worried stares from the servants and courtiers. She left a trail of water on the polished stone floor, and she was only vaguely aware of Evzan following her.
The closer she got to the throne room, the tighter her chest became. Fears and horrific possibilities scurried through her mind like thousands of spiders.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it, Princess,” Evzan murmured, catching up to walk beside her.
Adaline shook her head, wanting to deny whatever it was as well as the possibility that she’d get through it. Her family was everything.
A liveried servant opened the door to the throne room, and Adaline’s stomach churned as the cacophony of wailing pounded from her heart to her head. The sudden desire to close the door and run away seized her, but desperation to know what had happened was stronger. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the room.
“Princess Adaline,” the official court crier shouted over the din.
The throne room was used for open court, so it was the biggest room in the entire castle of Cervene. The stone walls held sconces, evenly spaced to provide ample light. Five fireplaces were divided among three of the walls, but with the warmth of spring, only one fire burned. Behind the royal dais where four thrones resided, her mother’s and father’s crests hung, a winged horse at the center of Queen Heathyr’s and a crouching panther at the center of King Jarian’s.
Courtiers crowded the front of the room, dressed in their finery. Many spoke in hushed whispers, but several openly wept. Three of the gilded thrones sat empty, but Aunt Dimira sat on Mari’s throne, dabbing her eyes with a pristine handkerchief, her features twisted in grief.
Adaline stepped into the hall, and a heavy silence settled over the room.
Dimira waved her forward, and Adaline wound her way through the throng, wishing someone would dismiss the crowd. Why were they all here?
The courtiers parted like a wave, receding to each side, and Adaline crossed to the royal dais. As she approached, she noticed Trint, her father’s valet, kneeling on the ground in front of the raised platform. Dirt, blood, and tears stained the servant’s uniform, and a thick scab traversed from the sandy blond hair at his temple to his bristly chin. His left arm hung limp by his side, twisted in an unnatural way. His eyes filled with tears as she approached.
“Trint?” Adaline said, rushing toward him.
“Stop, Your Highness!” Dimira said, her voice causing the entire room to freeze. “He’s a traitor.”
Adaline skidded to a halt, her wet shoes making sucking and squishing sounds. Shock held her immobile, and she stared at the young man. Trint had served her father for only a year, but he’d always been quiet and kind.
Trint blubbered incoherently about marauders, tears streaming down his battered face.
“Are you certain?” Adaline voiced her doubt, unable to fathom how the man could or would have betrayed his sovereign.
Dimira cleared her throat and dabbed her eyes again. “The king is dead because of his betrayal. And the queen and princess have disappeared, abducted into Beloch.”
Adaline blinked as the words stabbed into her mind. She shook her head to dislodge the impossibility. “No.”
“Gems and gold were found on this servant’s person and amassed in his bags—”
“I told you they weren’t mine,” he lisped through his busted lip. “The gold wath King Jarian’s for the journey into Beloch. I wath returning it to the printhess—”
“Do you take us for fools?” Dimira snapped. “I suggest the guards take him away to the prison until we can get to the bottom of this.”
Adaline felt as though her mind and body split, and she was watching the scene unfold around her from a distant place.
“What happened?” Evzan asked.
Dimira narrowed her eyes. “They were attacked. King Jarian is dead. His body returned by the only surviving witness. Far too convenient if you ask me, to be the only survivor and have a bag filled with Belochian gold. More likely, he’s the one who betrayed the party. By your leave, the guards will do what is necessary to ascertain the truth from him.” She directed her glare to Trint. “We can hope that the queen and princess will be returned for ransom by whichever bandits conspired to capture them.”
“We know it was Beloch?” Evzan asked, studying the valet.
Trint closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest. “It’s the only thing I’m certain of.”
Two guards hauled the man to his feet, but as soon as they removed their support, he crumpled back to the ground. They yanked him up again and dragged him from the hall.
“Adaline,” Dimira said. “What are your orders?”
“Yes,” Adaline said, startling back into her body and finding her hoarse voice. “I agree we should question him. We need to find out what happened . . . and where my mother—the queen and princess are now.”
“Do as she says.” Dimira directed her comment to the guards, who seemed to be waiting for her approval rather than Adaline’s. Dimira turned to Adaline, setting a dainty hand on her arm. “You don’t have to be here, my dear.”
She knew her aunt was being kind, trying to protect her from whatever horror had befallen her family, but Adaline was not going to run and hide. She pushed down the surging nausea and stood to her full height. “Whatever this treachery is, I’ll face it head-on. I’m going to find out who in Beloch dared attack Cervene.”
And, once she knew, Adaline would destroy them.
Dimira squeezed the princess’s arm gently. “Are you sure, my darling?”
Adaline straightened and met her aunt’s concerned gaze. “Thank you, Aunt Dimira, but I want to know. I need to know.”
The princess glanced at Evzan standing at her side and saw him purse his lips. Why was he disapproving? It was his fault she’d been left behind here in Cervene, and if her mother and sister didn’t return, she would have to rule in a few more months when she turned eighteen.
Despite her wet clothes, Adaline ascended the dais and took her seat in the smallest of the four thrones. She glanced at her aunt, who went to sit where Queen Heathyr had, and Adaline hoped her mother and sister would return, but the sickness in her stomach rotted her hope. Who would take the royal family, and why? To do so was an act of treason at best, and if it was Beloch, this would be war. And then a terrible thought seized her. Had Evzan known?
Staring at the guard's handsome face and stony expression, Adaline determined she would find out.
The next two days went by in a blur, and Adaline moved from meeting to meeting like a wraith. In her head, she repeated the same mantra over and over: Keep it together, Adaline. Stay strong for your people.
Questions came through her aunt from advisors and military leaders, and Adaline managed answers despite how numb she felt. She asked the Celestial Sisters to help heal her heart, but the old crones claimed there was nothing they could do for her.
Instead of finding answers, her advisors hounded Adaline with inane questions, trying the little patience she could muster. Of course Adaline wanted Dimira to act as Queen Regent
until Adaline was of age. Of course Adaline wanted to send out troops to investigate. Of course she wanted to send out spies to see if Beloch’s leadership had anything to do with the kidnapping. Of course she wanted to send out forces to find her mother and sister.
Adaline wanted to pull out her hair with the stupidity of the questions she was constantly bombarded with, and only her aunt’s constancy kept her sane.
“The dressmaker finished the purple gown for tomorrow, and it should be in your room,” Dimira said as she ran her fingers through Adaline’s flaxen locks. “I had them bring three gold bands for mourning.”
Adaline ground her teeth. Keep it together, Adaline.
“I’m not going to mourn them until we know they’re gone,” Adaline snapped, closing her eyes. “You have done so much for me, but I won’t concede this. If no one can find the bodies, how do you know they’re dead?”
“Adaline,” Dimira said, rounding the girl to regard her. The soon-to-be queen regent shook her head. “You can’t expect them to be found alive. Whoever did this killed your father. The fact that your mother and sister were kidnapped doesn’t bode well, but I’m sure they’ve had the same fate—”
Adaline waved her hand, cutting off her aunt. “I’ll burn my father tomorrow, but I’ll not pretend, not for one minute. When their bodies are found, we’ll deal with whatever we discover. If that means another ceremony, so be it. As Queen Regent, you can tell the Celestial Sisters this was my decision. We will only give one body to Zanek’s care. The djinni will take the others when we burn them.” Adaline stood and nodded at her only relation. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not willing to bend on this point.”
“Of course,” Dimira acquiesced, blanching with the mention of the djinni of death. “That’s your call. Also, I’ve been meaning to tell you the valet confessed. He provided several names involved in the ambush. It’s not certain Beloch officially sanctioned the assassination of your father, but we have many leads.”
“That’s . . . good news.” Adaline almost managed to fake a smile. “Did he say why? Why he betrayed my father? And my mother and sister . . . why?” Her voice broke halfway through her words.
Dimira sighed. “No. And, unfortunately, we’ll never know. He attempted escape shortly after his confession and was killed before he made it off the grounds. I’m so sorry, my dear. I feel I have failed you on this.”
“You didn’t fail me. Of course not.” Adaline shook her head as if Trint’s death didn’t matter, but the pressure in her chest clawed into her head, tearing at her sanity. She stood and said, “I’m in desperate need of a walk. I’ll return in a few minutes if you’d like, but I need to leave now.”
She fled the room. The moment Adaline was alone, hot tears spilled down her face, and she released a low whimper.
“Keep it together, Adaline,” she gritted out.
As she trudged her way toward her rooms, Adaline glanced out the window at the greenhouse, her mind going back to Trint. Adaline’s father had treated him more like a friend than a servant, and the valet betrayed his king and master. Whatever death Trint received was too good for him, and the injustice made her want to hit something. Adaline needed to spar or wrestle, to do something she could control in order to release her anger. Fighting would satisfy her thirst for violence, at least for a time. She now had the authority to make weapons training for women acceptable. She stared out at the soldiers’ open arena, imagining the girl she’d once been, training in forgotten hallways and hidden nooks of the castle. Learning to fight had felt so important then, a way for her to have meaning.
Not anymore.
“If you still want to practice,” Evzan said from behind, “I’ll find us a place. We could even spar in the soldiers’ arena. Whatever you want.”
“You.” Adaline whirled on him, for it was the first time she’d been alone with him since her father’s death. “Did you know?” she demanded, stepping closer. “Did you know what would happen to my family?”
Evzan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
She gave him a withering glare. And even though she had evidence that proved his innocence, she couldn’t help but lash out at him. “You were the one that stopped me from going with them. If I was there, I could’ve helped them—”
“If you were there, you’d be dead.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest as the sympathetic expression he wore hardened. “You couldn’t have stopped it—”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would be dead. So maybe I should be grateful.” Adaline gritted her teeth and then blurted the truth, “But I’m not.”
“Maybe I saved your life; maybe I didn’t. I was only following orders, Princess,” Evzan said. “You don’t owe me gratitude; that’s why you pay me, remember?”
She hated his brutal honesty. Even more, she hated that he’d been right. She hated that when she’d told her aunt of her suspicions of Evzan, that he might’ve been in league with the murderers, all the evidence indicated he was unflinchingly loyal to Cervene. And still, Adaline despised him.
“Is that all I am?” she said, the dam of her emotions cracking. Adaline’s reason fled as the monster of grief rent through its cage, and overwhelming misery and loss wrung her heart. As she spoke, she inched toward him, her voice dropping into a whisper-yell. “I’m a job, and you’re always loyal to your job, right Evzan? You don’t really care because you don’t really care about anything or anyone!”
She stood in front of him, tears pooling in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry in front of him. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that even though he’d kept her safe, he was still responsible for breaking her heart.
Adaline turned to run, but Evzan grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. She glared up at him, but the emotions ravaging his face held her still.
“Don’t pretend you know anything about me, Princess,” he hissed. “You don’t know who or what matters to me. You don’t know the half of what I’ve done for you, but one day, when you finally understand, you will thank me.”
The two of them stood in the hall, caught in each other’s gazes as the servants came and went in their frenzied preparation for the funeral rites for the King of Cervene and the confirmation of the queen regent.
Adaline refused to look away. She would not let him win anything more from her. She would train harder. She would read more. She would send out more—
“I’ve made arrangements, and I’m leaving tomorrow,” Evzan said, closing his eyes as if admitting defeat. “I’ll find out what happened to your sister and mother, and I’ll bring them back.”
The fire of Adaline’s rage washed away with his words, and hope sprung in its place. This time, she couldn’t hold the tears back. Emotion clogged her throat, and words wouldn’t come. Instead of trying to speak, she nodded at her guard through her watery gaze. “Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t ask anyone else to train you while I’m gone”—he held up a hand to stop her protest—“because you’ll muddy your training. You’re good but still new with the sword and even newer with the spear. Your knife skills are impressive, but I would like to see you best me before you start training with another. Every fighter is different, and in time, it’ll be to your advantage to train with others, but right now, anything you learn that contradicts the fundamentals I’m teaching you, I’ll have to un-teach. Please, don’t do that to us.”
Guilt settled, a heavy weight in her chest, and she nodded again.
“You can train in the garden by practicing your forms. Even if they’re boring, they’ll reinforce movements that need to be second nature to you if you want to be a warrior. I’ll be gone at least a fortnight, but please heed me?”
Adaline swallowed, pushing back her emotions. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”
He tilted his head, his lips ticking up on one side. “As I seem to find you suddenly agreeable, let me take you to your room so I can prepare for my trip, Highness. And might I suggest yo
u keep to your personal chambers and armed as much as possible until I return?”
“Why?” She didn’t want to cower in her room, and the people of Cervene needed to see their ruler.
“Because there are still too many unknowns, but I’m certain Trint wasn’t the mastermind behind the attack.”
“Trint made a full confession and attempted escape,” Adaline said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Evzan stared off, his azure eyes brimming with dark thoughts. “Something about that valet’s anguish rang true to me, but I’ve been mistaken before.” His gaze snapped back to Adaline’s, sharpening. “Are you going to follow my orders?”
“I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble,” she said, refusing to agree to be a coward.
He growled, his eyes flashing with anger.
“I won’t promise false,” she snapped, her emotions spiking. “Don’t ask me to do that.”
The imposing, fair-haired guard scratched his chin as he studied the princess, his lips pursed in a disgruntled frown.
“I can’t go to my rooms right now. Just the idea of confining myself in there makes my skin crawl.” Adaline’s emotions needed an outlet, and she knew releasing them in her garden rather than at court was far better. “I need to go to my gardens.”
Evzan straightened, opening his mouth as if to speak, but a wide-eyed page interrupted by shoving a sealed note at Adaline. She accepted the folded piece of coarse paper and snapped the wax seal. She skimmed the message, her heart ripping in two.
“You will not need to leave, Evzan. They’ve found my mother’s and sister’s bodies.” Saying the words out loud bludgeoned her heart, and she could taste ashes on the tip of her tongue. Adaline choked on the anguish as it spread from her heart to her mind. Stiffly, she turned to the page and said, “Please inform the regent I will be with her shortly. And send for the chief priestess; she’ll need to be with us.”
