By Dark Deeds (Blade and Rose Book 2)

by Miranda Honfleur

  Not if he had anything to say about it.

  Jon, former paladin that he was, couldn’t be trusted to do what must be done. Too honorable. Too soft-hearted. He’d rule by his personal code, and that would eventually invite every monster to eat Emaurria, and mankind, alive.

  Queen Narenian had said the last living mage to perform the Sundering had gone to an island—Venetha Tramus, a realm of the sky-elves—and never returned. That any who went there never returned.

  He’d never heard of it until her mention, but he had to try. Someone had to. Maybe there would be answers there about the Sundering, dragon mages, anything that could help.

  “I’m going there,” he whispered. “To Venetha Tramus.”

  A slow, lengthy exhalation. “I know that, dreshan. I knew it since your fit at dinner.”

  Leigh stiffened, covering Ambriel’s large hand with his. “You’re not asleep?”

  “No,” he replied without opening his eyes. “And I’m coming with you.”

  “Coming with me?” It was a journey with no direction, no map, and even less hope of success. “Why on earth would you even want to?”

  A low, rumbling laugh that faded. “Because you’re going to kiss me, dreshan. Right now. You’re going to kiss me so well, and so long, and so deep, that it’s going to be worth it.”

  “Oh?” Leigh took that hand, pinned Ambriel among the soft cotton sheets, and leaned in, curtaining him with his long platinum hair, lips almost touching his. Oh, he could most definitely make it worth his lover’s while. “Yes, Captain,” he whispered, and kissed him.

  Chapter 72

  Rielle turned the page in her elementalist tome, glimpsing Brennan asleep in bed. Liam had sailed into the port of Stroppiata to resupply, and they’d been staying at The Lady and the Lynx for days. She’d sent word of Shadow’s defeat to Jon; he could rest easier.

  At least he could.

  If Shadow was to be believed, the pirate attack on Laurentine had never been a pirate attack at all, but some maneuver designed to provoke Dominique’s éveil. A maneuver gone terribly wrong.

  If Shadow was to be believed, her husband had been working for the Most High, the Grand Divinus, somehow. Officially or unofficially? Were these truths or lies?

  I’ll find out. One way or another.

  And Shadow had called her a hypocrite. A pawn in the “endless dance.” And you dare to judge me? she’d remarked.

  And hadn’t been wrong.

  Shadow had been driven by unbridled rage, set aside all else in her quest for vengeance, to take a life for a life.

  And I…

  She had overcome fureur, become herself again, allowed herself to feel fear, love, grief, and rage—and had nearly become a shadow of herself, too, in her own quest for vengeance. It had begun as protection for Jon, yes, but after Sylvie…

  After Sylvie, it had become something else. Anything else to fill an emptiness that would never be filled.

  Blood for blood.

  No, she couldn’t judge Shadow.

  And she wouldn’t become her, either.

  Blood for blood meant no peace until all blood had been spilled. A world steeped in it. A destroyed world. A dead world.

  She shook her head. No. She wouldn’t have any part in it. No more vengeance. Her shadow self would end her reign here, diminish, and become part of the only self that would move forward.

  And forward was… For all the innocent lies you’ve taken, you will suffer, Shadow had said. I have made certain of it.

  How had Shadow “made certain” Jon would suffer? A spell of some kind? She’d written to Olivia and Jon about the threats Shadow had made, but there was nothing specific to them at all.

  And what about Brennan? Had Shadow “made certain” he would suffer, too?

  Brennan tossed in bed. Was this how? His sickness?

  He’d spiked a fever and been delirious for days, hallucinating, speaking nonsense like a madman. He’d barely eaten, slept fitfully, and required constant watch lest he leave bed and do Divine-knew-what.

  He wasn’t invincible. The thought would have once given her hope, but now it only made her shiver.

  Please be all right.

  She moved her chair closer and took his hand. Sun-kissed and hot to the touch. A large, broad palm. Strong yet elegant fingers. Long, muscled arms that had held her tight. Broad, powerful shoulders. Dark, dense stubble on an imperious chin and chiseled jaw. Long, black lashes almost too feminine for someone like him. Thick hair she wanted to comb her fingers through.

  He’d never been sick a day in his life, and now, here he was, lying in a bed, vulnerable, helpless. The notion of leaving his side made her cringe, and she did so only when Liam himself relieved her.

  She squeezed Brennan’s hand. “You have to wake up sometime.”

  When a knock came from the hallway, she opened the door and accepted a tray of food. Brennan had eaten precious little; getting him to eat or drink had been a game of luck during his moments of delirious consciousness.

  But his fever had broken. Maybe he’d wake soon.

  She set the tray down on his nightstand and sank back into her chair.

  Blinking sluggishly, he stared at the ceiling.

  She shot up. “Brennan.”

  His eyes shifted toward her, clear hazel eyes. “W-where…?” He coughed, and she quickly held a cup of water to his lips.

  As he drank, she answered. “We’re in Stroppiata. You got really sick on Khar’shil… Some kind of spore, perhaps, that affected your mind and caused you to hallucinate. You’ve been ill for a few days.”

  His thick, dark brows drew together. “Shadow?”

  “Dead. It’s over.” She took the cup, helped him sit up, and joined him in bed with the tray of food.

  He eased back against the pillows, eyeing her with a peripheral once-over. “And you?”

  She gestured to herself. “Whole. Liam’s fine, too.”

  He nodded. “Good.” For a moment, he frowned, staring into space. “Jon’s safe,” he said carefully.

  “And so am I. And so are you.” She held a spoonful of hot oatmeal to his lips, but he took the spoon and bowl from her and dug in himself.

  Then he was already feeling better. She grinned. “You had me worried.”

  “I don’t get sick,” he said between bites. He grabbed an apple and bit into it.

  “But you did.” She buttered a roll and handed it to him.

  His eyes gleamed. “Feeling better.” He popped the entire roll into his mouth, stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk.

  She laughed. “And hungry.”

  “Always hungry,” he said around a mouthful of food.

  She refilled the cup and gave it to him, and he gulped it down instantly.

  “So what now?”

  She’d been asking herself that, too. After writing about Shadow’s cryptic remarks to Olivia and Jon, there remained the question of how to investigate these new allegations herself. “I need to write a report and send it to the Grand Divinus. In the meantime, I thought we’d go to Laurentine. Or if you prefer, Tregarde or Maerleth Tainn. It doesn’t really matter where. I’d like you to write to Kehani, too, and find out whether she’s gotten Samara.”

  “Of course. I’ll find out.” But he raised an eyebrow and set down a half-eaten cheese-and-pinenut fritter. “Not Courdeval?”

  An ache formed between her shoulder blades. No, not Courdeval.

  She’d said all she’d needed to say in correspondence, and it was best that she and Jon kept some distance between each other.

  And it was time to tell Brennan about the papers she’d refused from Jon.

  Brennan eyed the crease between her brows. Great Wolf, what he wouldn’t give for just a glimpse into her head.

  But she sat there, silent, her pink lips pursed, looking him over with those summer eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, a glimmer in that gaze. It was even bluer matched to the turquoise overcoat she’d worn on their voyage, w
hich she wore now, left unbuttoned at the top, a tease of her smooth chest visible above her lily-white shirt.

  She wore her golden curls plaited from one side of her head, around the back, to pile over her other shoulder in a thick, practical braid secured with a ribbon. What he wouldn’t do to pull that ribbon, shake that mane of hers free, run his fingers through it—

  Her eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand. “Brennan?”

  “Hm?”

  She rested her shoulder against his arm. “The night I left Claudine’s for the palace, when I met with Jon—”

  He winced. He didn’t want to hear this, how she’d fallen for Jon again, made some promise, or how he’d stolen her heart, how she needed to return, despite Veris, despite everything, and—

  “—he granted my petition to dissolve our betrothal. He had the document ready that night.”

  Of course he had. Brennan grimaced.

  Was there a man alive who wouldn’t remove impediments to marrying his beloved, if he could? A king was no different, other than possessing all the power he needed to do so.

  Why was she telling him this here and now? Letting him down gently? Prefacing her exit?

  “I refused,” she whispered.

  Naturally, she’d—

  Refused?

  He jerked his head back, his heart racing. “You what?”

  “I refused the papers.”

  A ripple tingled through his body, and he did everything he could to not jump out of his skin.

  She’d refused the dissolution.

  She’d refused it.

  For years, she’d worked tirelessly to dissolve their betrothal contract, but when the reward had been in her grasp, she’d turned it away?

  Why?

  His gaze darted to her but dared not linger. She didn’t want to dissolve the betrothal. That meant… That meant—

  He tried to slow his breathing. “Have you… changed your mind?”

  As the moment drew on, his thundering heart threatened to explode lest she answer.

  “Yes.” With a widening smile, she tightened her hold on his hand.

  Rielle wanted to marry him.

  He stilled, held his breath, then finally had to breathe. It all rushed in with one inhalation.

  “If you have the patience to wait for me until I’m… myself again—”

  “I do,” he blurted. “Of course I do.”

  “As long as you can wait however long it takes until I’m ready to consider having children… which may be never—”

  “I can,” he said, sitting up. He’d get to be with her. Forever. They could worry about the rest later.

  She winced. “You say that, but… if you want a different bride, one who isn’t… If you want someone else, I’ll take the document. I don’t want you to feel locked into—”

  He put an arm around her shoulders, and she eyed him with a tentative smile before leaning against him. Great Wolf, he’d never wanted to kiss her as much as he did right now.

  “I don’t feel locked,” he said, playing with her fingers, intertwining them with his. “If you really want to do this, then so do I.”

  She smiled up at him, her cheeks reddening, and nodded.

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “Then… tell me how this goes, Rielle, because I find myself in uncharted territory.”

  Chuckling, she rolled her eyes.

  He grinned. “Shall I court you?”

  She shoved him, but he resisted, biting his lip to keep a straight face.

  “Send you flowers?”

  She laughed into his chest.

  “Take you dancing, even?” he asked, but she only laughed harder. “Moonlit walks in castle gardens?”

  She yanked at his arm, and he held her closer. She looked up at him with a smirk.

  “Well?” he asked, trying to suppress a grin.

  Her lips twitched, her sky-blue eyes sparkling. “You forgot chocolates.”

  He finally cracked—and laughed. “I’m just trying to decide how best to impress you.”

  She shook her head and looked away for a moment, then turned back to him. “You don’t need to. You already have.”

  He raised their joined hands and kissed hers. “When?”

  “Countless times. On this chase after Shadow, in Courdeval at the ball, Sonbahar—”

  “Not that.” He grinned. “The wedding. How else can I count down the days?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It’s short notice, but… why not this autumn?”

  In five months?

  “Done.” He looked her over. His fiancée. His soon-to-be bride. Wife. His chest warmed.

  Great Wolf, he was going to marry her. Finally.

  The woman he loved, his curse broken—and all would be as had been intended.

  END OF BOOK TWO

  Ready for the next installment in the Blade and Rose series?

  The next book in the series is called Court of Shadows, available for preorder now!

  If you’d like to receive news of my upcoming releases and exclusive bonus content (including a sneak peek of Court of Shadows!), please sign up for my mailing list at: www.mirandahonfleur.com/deeds-bonus

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading By Dark Deeds, the second book in the Blade and Rose series. If you’d like to find out about new releases, you can sign up for my newsletter at www.mirandahonfleur.com. As a thank-you gift, you will receive “Winter Wren,” a prequel short story to the Blade and Rose series, featuring Rielle’s first meeting with a certain paladin.

  If you enjoyed this book and would like to see more, please consider leaving a review—it really helps me as a new author to know whether people like my work and want to read more of it.

  Rielle’s adventure continues in Court of Shadows, the third book in the Blade and Rose series, available for preorder now. If you’re on my mailing list, keep an eye out for a sneak peek of the first chapter coming soon!

  As always, there are people in my life without whom this book wouldn’t have been possible. I’d like to thank my husband, Tony, who gave me the courage and the nudge to pursue my dream. And my mom for dreaming big, far bigger than I’d have the courage to dream on my own.

  I’d also like to thank my friends at Enclave—Ryan Muree, Emily Gorman, and Katherine Bennet—you’re all amazing, and I couldn’t do this without you. See you all at Disney (I’ll bring the suitcase of chocolate). Thanks also go to Susan Stuckey, Sue Seabury, Imogen Keeper, Elkin Kennard, M. Lavena Murray, and Deborah Osborne, whose enthusiasm and thoughtful and constructive help encouraged me to complete this book.

  And you, my readers. I couldn’t do this without you! Your thoughts, art, and excitement have meant the world to me. I love hearing from you, so please feel free to drop me a line on: www.mirandahonfleur.com, Facebook, Twitter, and miri@mirandahonfleur.com. Thank you for reading!

  About the Author

  I’m a born-and-raised Chicagoan living in Indianapolis. I grew up on fantasy and science-fiction novels, spending nearly as much time in Valdemar, Pern, Tortall, Narnia, and Middle Earth as in reality. I write speculative fiction starring fierce heroines and daring heroes who make difficult choices along their great adventures, all with generous doses of romance, action, and drama.

  When I’m not snarking, writing, or reading my Kindle, I edit professionally, hang out and watch Netflix with my English-teacher husband, and play board games with my friends.

  Reach me at:

  www.mirandahonfleur.com

  miri@mirandahonfleur.com

  Also by Miranda Honfleur

  Blade and Rose Series

  “Winter Wren” (available on www.mirandahonfleur.com)

  Blade & Rose (Book 1)

  By Dark Deeds (Book 2)

  Court of Shadows (Book 3)* Available February 2018

  Enclave Boxed Sets

  Of Beasts and Beauties* Available April 2018

  and Rose Book 2)