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Bride By Command

Page 27

by WINSTEAD JONES, LINDA


  When the short ceremony was over, the ministers and Father Braen all but scurried from the room. Word that Prince Alixandyr had lost his mind and painted himself blue and married a woman of no political importance would likely spread quickly. Jahn wondered if they would even bother to make note of the fact that the prince was happy and in love.

  A properly wed Alix approached Jahn with a smile—a smile which looked decidedly odd against a blue face. It was more than the blue which made Alix look not entirely like the man Jahn thought he knew so well. The eyes were different, darker and more complicated. The set of his shoulders, the smile, the stride—all hinted at the hidden man Alix had been fighting all his life. This was the real Alix, Jahn knew it in a heartbeat.

  “We’re leaving shortly,” Alix said in a lowered voice, perhaps so his bride would not hear.

  “You’re welcome to stay, to make this your home.” Just because Alix had wanted to kill Jahn last night, that didn’t mean he was no longer welcome here. “You are still a prince, and your bride is now a princess.”

  Alix shook his head. “Perhaps one day we’ll return, but I have many things to take care of before I can settle down.”

  Jahn knew that if he told Alix all that Morgana had told him last night, the trip he planned to start today would be postponed. No matter what, Alix would not leave his brother in such a crisis. He would not ride away once he heard that there was a plan of assassination—other than his own. But Jahn did not tell. This was what Alix and his bride wanted, and he would not stop them from leaving.

  There was an awkwardness between the brothers, as if an invisible barrier had been erected. The cause of that barrier was more than last night’s excitement and threats, Jahn knew. This was a new man, a new brother. And yet, the old one had not entirely gone.

  An expression of great contentment crossed Alix’s face. “Sanura deserves more than I can ever give her.”

  “She’s lucky to have you.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” The set of Alix’s features became slightly more solemn. “What of you, brother? Will you marry a woman you do not love for the sake of a country?”

  Jahn hesitated. A magically gifted son, a traitorous plot, a wife who gave him her body but had not admitted that she loved him and forgave him for his deception. How to explain all that in the mere minutes they had? “My marital fate is . . . complicated.”

  Alix moved closer, but Jahn felt no fear. The man who’d threatened him was gone—for the most part. “I have advised you often since you became emperor, and I will do so once more, brother. The right woman is worth more than a country, more than a throne. Don’t let anyone make you take the wrong woman as your wife. If you are so foolish, you will soon regret your sacrifice.”

  “What if I’ve found the right woman and she will not have me?” It was a question Jahn could ask no one else.

  Alix’s smile reappeared. “You have always been persuasive where women are concerned. Call on all your charms.”

  “My charms have failed me,” Jahn confessed in a lowered voice.

  Alix laughed harshly. “I doubt that.” He glanced back to his bride, and a contented expression passed across his face. “We must go. We have a long way to travel today.”

  “You won’t stay until the First Night of the Summer Festival? Just a few more days.” Again, Jahn considered telling Alix what was coming . . . and again he did not.

  “No. The decision is yours. I’ve said all I can on the matter. Knowing you, I suspect all will be well.”

  Jahn made a scoffing noise under his breath. It wasn’t his decision he was worried about. His decision had been made, but he wasn’t at all sure about his wife’s intentions. If they got past the excitement her father had planned, if they worked together to fight this foe who had risen up to threaten them both . . . then what?

  The brothers had never been prone to hugging, opting instead for hearty handshakes and the occasional slap on the back. This parting was different from others. Alix and Jahn moved toward one another without hesitation for a long, hard embrace.

  Their lives had changed dramatically when their true parentage had been unveiled, and those lives were changing again. “Good luck,” Jahn said as they parted.

  “And to you.” Again, Alix grinned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the thick leaf of a succulent plant. “Break the leaf and use the gel inside to clean off the blue.” He tossed the leaf and Jahn caught it, noticing as he did so that everywhere he’d touched Alix’s skin, he was stained with blue paint.

  “Something to remember you by?” he asked sharply, and then they both laughed.

  Jahn was certain he had never heard Alix laugh with such honesty. His eyes had never been so alive.

  He looked forward to getting to know this man his brother had become when Alix and Sanura returned to Arthes one day.

  The ballroom was horribly large and empty after the bride and groom made their escape. Jahn stood there for a long while, his mind spinning. A son, a reluctant wife he was not sure he could keep, a wizard who wanted him dead . . . the next few days were going to be very interesting. For the first time in his life he wished for a few hours of sweet, blessed boredom.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The First Day of the Summer Festival

  DANYA didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned that she hadn’t seen Kristo in a few days. Having Angelo Rainer in her life as a friend, as a promise of what the future might be, was more than she’d ever hoped for, but there was still much to be decided before they could move on. Where was her son? When would Ethyn be brought to her?

  How on earth would she escape doing exactly as Kristo demanded?

  She forced herself to make her way to the level where Kristo was housed. It was an arduous climb, to lesser quarters. He planned to demand better housing as soon as she was wed to the emperor, but until then these secondary quarters on a level which required much climbing of steps would have to do. It wasn’t difficult to find out which room her “uncle” had been assigned. She knocked upon his door with determination. Angelo had told her to leave the evil man alone and let him handle matters, but she could not. Her son’s life was at stake, and she couldn’t step aside and do nothing. She couldn’t ask Angelo to endanger himself because of the foolish decisions she had made. What could she have done differently to save herself and Ethyn?

  Kristo answered her knock quickly, even though it was early in the morning and Danya had thought she might awaken him. He was dressed in gray robes that hung on his thin frame, reminiscent of the way he had been dressed when she’d first seen him. He was very much awake. His hair had been combed, his face freshly washed. Either he had not slept at all or he was a very early riser. He wasn’t happy to see her. She almost wished he wore the hood which would hide his features from her.

  “What do you want?” he asked sharply.

  Danya found herself wringing her hands. “Time grows short, and we have not finalized plans for tonight. Will you be there when the emperor makes his choice? Since he thinks you to be family, will you be present for the ceremony?” She swallowed hard, then finally asked the question which brought her here. “When will I see Ethyn?” Where are you keeping him?

  “Go away,” the cold-eyed man said. He started to close the door in her face, but Danya shot out a stilling hand and forced the door open, taking Kristo by surprise.

  “I have agreed to do everything you ask,” she said, her voice sounding much braver than she felt inside. “I am here, and I will marry the emperor if he chooses me, as you say he will. I’ll have his child and, God help me, I will even stand by and let you take his life, when the time comes.” She had been falling helplessly toward this moment, out of control and with one end in mind. Ethyn. “I’ve given everything of myself to your plans, all for the sake of my son. Now it is your turn to keep your promise. Where is Ethyn, and when will he be delivered to me?”

  Kristo’s hand shot out as if he intended to grab her, but Danya quickly stepped back
out of his reach. She wasn’t foolish enough to make demands and then step into the monster’s private chambers. Here in the hallway they were not entirely isolated, not as they would be if she allowed him to drag her behind that door. Other doors lined this hallway, and there were people close by, sleeping or preparing themselves for the day. She would not allow herself to be alone with Kristo Stoyan, not ever again.

  An unconcerned Kristo smiled and stepped into the hallway, moving so forcefully forward that Danya had no choice but to move a few steps more away from him and his cold breath, until her back was against the stone wall and she could go no farther. “I had hoped to avoid this confrontation until much later, but you have forced my hand with your insolence.” He leaned down and placed his face too close to hers. The chill that touched her came not only from his breath but also from his flesh, and a wave of what felt like ice enveloped her. “You are no longer necessary. Another woman will be chosen empress tonight. Another will give birth to the next emperor and assist the current one to an early grave. You were never strong enough to do what is required. If you were, Rainer would be dead by now.”

  Danya was hit with a heady mixture of relief and despair. There had been a time when being empress was all she cared for, but what she wanted from life had changed dramatically. She might actually have what Angelo offered—happiness beyond this terrible palace, a life with a man who loved her. But if Kristo no longer needed her, what would become of her son?

  “I don’t want to be empress,” she said. “Not anymore. I don’t care about your plans for the emperor.” She didn’t care who ruled, as long as he left her alone! She gathered all her strength, finding a rush of bravery inside her that she had buried for too long. “I won’t spoil your plans by warning the emperor or any at his command, but I want my son. If you wish me to remain silent, you will bring Ethyn to me immediately.”

  Kristo grinned, and Danya shuddered, as she always did when he dared to look pleased with himself. “Your child died as a baby, just as the old witch who delivered him informed you.”

  Danya’s head began to swim. Her knees went weak. “But the birthmark . . .”

  “The memory of that birthmark was plucked from your weak brain as I searched for your vulnerabilities,” Kristo whispered, his unlined face too horribly close to hers. “You had so many weaknesses to choose from.”

  Danya saw Ethyn in her mind, just as Kristo had described him. He was real! He had her eyes and he laughed well and often, and someone, somewhere, was caring for him until they could be reunited . . . “But my Ethyn,” she argued weakly, her legs feeling less than steady.

  “Ethyn was a dog I had when I was a boy,” Kristo said coldly. “It was the first name to come to mind as I spun my story for you.”

  Danya’s legs gave out and she sank to the floor, no longer able to stand. The crinkle of her full skirt was unbearably loud as she dropped, and the sound filled her head as if it were thunder or the rush of a raging river. For a moment she could hear nothing else.

  Sitting on the floor in horrid silence, once the sound of her descent was through, she was completely hollow inside, empty and alone and in excruciating pain. She’d lost her son again, but this time her loss was much more excruciating than it had been two years ago, when her selfish mind had been on hiding the baby’s existence—and her folly—from her family and from Ennis. In past weeks she’d learned to love the child she’d been so willing to give up at his birth. He’d become real to her, and she’d made great sacrifices to have him in her arms again. And all the time it had been a lie.

  A great rush of cold washed over her, and she had just enough strength to look up and see that Kristo was pointing a thin, pale hand at her. It seemed as if the air he sent her way was washed in blue and green swirls that were pretty and evil at the same time. He kept smiling, and she wanted only to wipe that awful smile from his face. The cold that surrounded her was aching and dreadful, and she dropped her head into her lap, hiding her face, hoping that Kristo was killing her, hoping that the pain would soon be gone.

  I’m sorry, Angelo, she thought. I’m sorry I’m not the woman you think I could be.

  The wave of cold stopped, and Danya became vaguely aware that she and Kristo were no longer alone. Another resident of this hallway was leaving his quarters for the day and had been drawn to the couple. Danya wanted to scream at the boy to escape while he could, to run for his life, to save himself, but words would not come to her. She was numb. She was frozen.

  “My niece has been taken ill,” Kristo said, his voice filled with false concern. “Poor girl, she’s never been quite right,” he whispered, as if she could not hear his words.

  Danya made herself small. She tried to disappear into the volumes of fabric suitable for an empress that made up her skirt. She tried to melt into the stone hallway so that perhaps the pain would go away. Her heart was beating so hard, it was about to burst through her chest.

  And then it seemed that her heart did not beat at all.

  The stranger pledged to fetch the palace physician, and when he was gone, Kristo leaned down and whispered to Danya once more. “You can tell everyone what you think you know, I suppose, but no one will believe you. You are weak. You are worthless. You are nothing.”

  And Danya tried even harder to disappear, because she knew that, evil or not, Kristo was right.

  ALMUND Ramsden had traveled through the night in order to arrive at the palace early on this day. He was concerned about his daughter, worried that he had not made the right decision when he’d allowed Morgana to leave home with the emperor in his disguise. The man who led this country had sworn that no harm would come to Morgana, and Almund had believed him. So why had he not heard from her in all this time? Where was she on this important day, when the emperor would choose his bride?

  Difficult or not, Morgana would make a good empress. And if that was not to be, she would make some other man a good wife. Still, Almund had been almost certain there had been a spark, of sorts, between the emperor and his beloved daughter as they’d argued on that fateful day. Reminded him somewhat of the day he’d met Morgana’s mother . . .

  Gaining entry to the palace was not an easy task, but with his connections—and his bluster—Almund finally managed. Soon it was evident that his rush to arrive had been for nothing. Morgana was not in the palace, he was told. She’d refused to be included in the emperor’s contest; that was all anyone here knew.

  He requested an immediate audience with the emperor, and was denied. He was informed that in five days Emperor Jahn would once again make himself available for audience with his subjects. Five days! Impossible.

  Almund was furious. When he’d agreed to the emperor’s plan—for what choice had he had?—he hadn’t intended for his daughter to go missing. Like a fool, he’d hoped that spark he’d seen between the two would turn to more on the journey and Morgana would have the fine life she deserved. He’d hoped she would finally give up her foolishness in finding every man unworthy—as well as her impulsive declaration that she would never wed. Apparently that had not happened, since the palace was hectic as preparations were made for a feast and the emperor’s important choice, and Morgana was nowhere to be found.

  Everyone was mum about who the bride might be.

  Obviously he’d made a mistake in allowing Morgana to leave home with the emperor. As he was grudgingly shown to his quarters, Almund realized that he should’ve denied even an emperor. Indignant and worried, he was not going to wait five days for his meeting. There would be great fanfare when the emperor chose his bride. Somehow, some way, Almund would be there, and he would demand to have his daughter returned to him.

  And she had better be returned to him in the same untouched condition she had been in when she’d left home!

  TURNING Danya and the young man who had stumbled across an unfortunate confrontation to stone would cause a commotion and perhaps raise an alarm, and Kristo could not have that. He had almost taken care of the girl in that way, teas
ing her with the iciness of his destructive power, pondering whether or not he should take her life and scatter the remains about the palace. He did wish to be rid of her, but it didn’t matter. He was not worried about the lifeless lump of bones and flesh and tears Lady Danya had become as he, the young interloper, and the palace physician escorted her to her quarters. It would be a waste of his precious energy to start transforming those who did not matter to stone, when he might have need of all his energy on this night.

  Besides, there was nothing left of Lady Danya. No strength, no hope, no ambitions. She was almost as cold as he. It was good that he had found Morgana. This one would not have lasted a year before breaking under the pressure of his demands.

  Kristo and the other two men carried Danya into her bedchamber and carefully placed her upon the bed, ridiculously inappropriate and voluminous gown and all. The physician checked her heart and found a weak beat. He was concerned with her lack of color and her weakened heart, as any physician should be.

  Looking at her, Kristo felt a surge of confidence. Danya wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t going to tell anyone what she knew. By the time she recovered, it would be done. He could deal with her tomorrow. Perhaps he would make Morgana turn this one to stone, in order to be certain that his daughter was entirely aligned with his purpose—a purpose which should also be hers in entirety. A murder in the palace would assure him that Morgana had the strength that he required—that she was the strong woman he thought her to be.

  The young man who had come across the two of them in the hallway was glad to make his escape, once Lady Danya was safely in her bed. The physician didn’t look as if he planned to leave anytime soon. Kristo had much to do. It was going to be a busy day. He leaned toward the physician.

 

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