by Kiera Cass
“If you ever say anything like that in my presence again, I will . . . force you to listen to my voice for an hour. I can talk about anything and am very persistent, so watch it.”
There was a hesitant smile playing at his cheeks. “I do believe torturing civilians is illegal.” He looked at me with those sad eyes.
“Well, you said I wasn’t Isolten, so I’m not really worried about obeying laws. Stop talking like that. You’re alive. So live.”
He nodded, taking one long breath and then focusing his attention back on the room. My eyes went to Valentina. She saw me and barely raised her fingers from the table to give me a wave. I gave a small one back.
“I wish I could talk to her,” I murmured.
“Need I remind you that she’s the enemy?”
I sighed. “Just when I thought you were getting tolerable. No, she is not.”
He squinted at her. “She does look a little pale. Perhaps she is pregnant.”
“For her sake, I hope so,” I wished, trying to think of a way to get close enough to her to ask. I couldn’t just walk up to . . . Etan’s eyes were boring into me, stealing my focus. “What?”
“What do you mean by that?”
I swallowed and leaned in so that no one would hear. “She’s lost three already. She seemed very nervous about her place when she visited Coroa. I’m worried the king will divorce her if she doesn’t . . . what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you positive about that?” he whispered. “Three miscarriages? You’re sure?”
“Yes. She told me herself, but I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. I’m counting on your discretion, Etan. I mean it.”
“Have you told anyone else?” he asked.
“Silas. And he wanted to tell his father, but I begged him not to.”
Etan shook his head. “He must have loved you tremendously. That is very important news. And it explains a lot. Quinten was counting on passing the crown to an heir of his own, and he’s never been sure how long Hadrian would live. He’s clearly abandoned his hope in Valentina, and now his hope is that Phillipa will conceive quickly. That’s why this wedding is happening now.”
If this was true, all I could think about was poor Valentina, trapped in a loveless marriage to the cruelest king in memory. If he had no hope in her, what would he do? Divorce seemed like the merciful option these days. If he could kill off Silas for standing in his way, what would keep him from doing it to Valentina?
I moved my eyes to Hadrian’s bride. I watched her intently, and though she spoke warmly to anyone who came to meet her, when her focus was turned to Hadrian, it was hard to find anything more than indifference in her eyes. Not disdain or sorrow. It seemed more an acceptance of what she must do and of the person who’d come attached to the duty she’d been raised to complete her whole life.
I wasn’t sure if I admired her resolve or pitied her. Beyond most of that, I felt a chilling sense of worry. If she failed, too, what would happen to her?
The sound of heavy footsteps pulled my attention away. Six men wearing dirty Isolten uniforms were running into the banquet hall. “Let us pass!” one shouted. “News for His Majesty the King!”
Crowds parted, and the men ran through, all falling to a knee before the head table, one all but collapsing from exhaustion. “Your Majesty, we must report that another battalion has been attacked by the border with Coroa. We are the only ones to survive.”
I gasped, covering my mouth in shock. They were all so young.
“No,” Etan whispered. “No.”
“We came to tell you of this atrocity,” the soldier said, “and ask for more men to come with us to defend our land.”
“Jameson,” Etan muttered under his breath, as if it were a curse.
I swallowed. It was hard to explain my lingering allegiance to Jameson. Perhaps it was because Coroa, for better or worse, would always be my home. I stayed silent, afraid to even attempt to comfort him. Any semblance of peace between us might be gone tonight in that single word.
“I will go and fight!” a man called out from the crowd.
“So shall I!” another cried.
The king shook his head, raising his hand to silence the room. “I will not waste our precious blood for that villain of a prince!” he yelled above the guests. He sank for a moment into his throne, mumbling to himself. Phillipa looked to her fiancé, as if to ask if this sulking was normal, and Valentina sat on the farthest side of her chair as physically possible. Once his anger had finally settled, he called out into the hall. “Where is that girl?”
Fourteen
THERE WERE SCORES OF PEOPLE in this room, but I knew deep in my bones that he was looking for me. King Quinten confirmed my suspicions as he called out again. “Where’s that girl the Widow Eastoffe brought with her?”
It was easy for him to find me, as most people in the room turned to stare at our table and the stranger accompanying the Northcotts.
“Up on a bench, girl, so I can see you!” King Quinten commanded.
“This should be interesting,” Etan mused, offering a hand so I could climb up on the seat.
“How can you joke about this?” I hissed.
“This has been my whole life, darling. Welcome to the family.”
I trembled, taking his hand and stepping up on shaky legs.
“Yes, there you are. Lady Hollis, Jameson’s former bride.”
At that, many whispers went up around the room. Like the Dinnsmors, not everyone had heard of me yet.
“I’ve been told that, despite your many sins, your precious King Jameson wishes for you to return to the palace. I heard he burned half of it down when you left, grief stricken as he was.”
Etan looked up at me, waiting for me to explain, as this was the second time we’d heard that rumor.
But there was no explanation. It wasn’t true. There was a fire, but . . .
King Quinten riffled his fingers through his thin white beard and eyed me like a hawk stalking a mouse.
“Perhaps we should send you back to Coroa in a burial shroud,” he commented offhandedly. “Maybe the loss of his precious Hollis would finally teach him some respect.”
Murmurs of agreement came up from around the room, and, suddenly, it felt like the minority had vanished. Here, in the moment of their countrymen being killed at the hands of mine, I was the face of the enemy . . . I couldn’t imagine any room for mercy.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?” I squeaked out.
“If Jameson so easily kills my people, why should I not do the same to his? Maybe I’ll finally have his attention if I take away someone he values instead of his pathetic, worthless soldiers.”
Was he trying to scare me? Was this just a joke? Jameson preferred bizarre forms of entertainment, so I couldn’t rule out the possibility. Not from the man who took my parents, who took Silas.
“Do you have a better solution?” the king posed to me.
I stood there, struggling to catch a breath. I was going to die, and I’d done nothing to stop this man. I’d failed Silas, my family, and so many others. On top of that, if he did send my corpse to Jameson, he’d probably end up inviting a war into his kingdom, not ending one.
“Say something,” Etan urged under his breath.
“Er, Your Majesty? Is it not true that the kingdom of Isolte is more than twice the size of Coroa?” I called out.
“Indeed, it is. With far better land and generous access to the sea.”
Across the room, several cheered and shouted out their agreement that Isolte was superior to any country on the continent.
“Then, Your Majesty, would it not be worth considering . . . gifting these scraps of land along the border to King Jameson?” At the mere suggestion, cries of anger arose from the room . . . but it was not as loud as I expected it to be, not nearly as dense. I raised my voice over them, over the minority. “Perhaps the king acts out of jealousy. Considering your many resources, one could understand it,” I continued, unsu
re if my attempts at flattery would work.
“If . . . If you give up these paltry pieces of earth, the size of your kingdom is hardly changed, and King Jameson would then be indebted to you. And! And you would find yourself remembered as a peacemaker in both Coroa’s history books and yours.” I swallowed. “Which I’m sure would be a welcome change,” I mumbled under my breath. Etan cleared his throat to cover a chuckle.
A hush fell over the room.
I stood there, waiting for someone to do something. Anything. Break into a laugh, draw a sword. There were too many possibilities.
“This is an interesting thought,” the king finally mused. “It would be nice to see Jameson groveling.”
Some in the room cheered rowdily.
The king waved a hand to his butlers. “See these men have fresh clothes and food.” Then, turning back to the soldiers, he continued. “You will stay the night as my guests, and I will tend to this dispute in the morning. For now, let us return to our festivities. My only son is getting married, and no one should disturb such a perfect celebration.”
He looked at me as if I’d climbed up on the bench at my own prompting.
The music began again, and I nearly clawed Etan’s ear off trying to scramble down from my perch.
“Could I please go back to the room now?”
“Certainly,” Etan said, his face clearly amused.
“Go fast,” I begged.
We exited the hall to an onslaught of attention, which made everything worse. Once we rounded a corner and the noise died down, I lunged for a large cistern and vomited.
“Couldn’t hold up the lady act all night, could you?” Etan teased, enjoying this.
“Stop talking.”
“I will say I’m impressed you made it out of the room alive, so maybe you’ve earned the right to throw up all the king’s fine food into his personal possessions.”
“I mean it. Stop.” I slumped down the side of the wall, trying to think of how I would explain the stains on her sleeves to Scarlet. “These are such a nuisance,” I lamented, holding up my arm. “I don’t know if I can keep wearing these ridiculous things.”
Etan came down and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me to my feet. “But you will. For now.” His tone was almost gentle. At least for him. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
I was feeling less and less anxious the farther I got from the banquet, but I didn’t know how I would manage to stay bright and charming for two more days.
“It will be different tomorrow,” Etan said, as if reading my mind. “Everyone’s attention will be focused on the tournament.”
“Perhaps no one will care, then, if I don’t attend.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but you should be able to stay out of trouble for a day. . . . You can stay out of trouble for a day, can’t you?”
“I will if you will,” I replied groggily.
“Oh, well, it’s all out the window, then.”
I couldn’t bring myself to appreciate his newfound wit at the moment. I just needed to get to my bed.
“That was very brave,” Etan finally admitted. “Suggesting he give up the land. It would not be a popular idea, but it would save so many lives if he actually did it. You should be proud of that, Hollis.”
“If I survive the trip, I’ll try to remember that.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you lost people you knew today.”
“I’ll have no way of knowing for a few days. Even if I didn’t know them, it’s still hard to stomach.” He looked around the hallway, continuing to support me as we walked. “I know you think I hate everyone, but I don’t. My heart bleeds Isolten blue, and the people here only represent the tiniest fraction of the country. There are more out there, barely getting by, living in fear of an angry king, going to protect the border for money to support their families only to die in the process. I can’t forgive Jameson for killing our people, and I can’t forgive Quinten for killing his own. It’s just . . . they don’t deserve that.”
We moved in silence for a while.
“It makes sense why you would hate me.”
He huffed. “I don’t hate you. I’m just not particularly fond of you.”
“But you did hate me. You said so.”
“So did you,” he reminded me.
“Yes. I think that Hollis—the one back in the manor, who was tired and sad and trying to do the right thing—I think she meant it. But despite how true it felt then, I probably could not say it again now.”
“Because I’m so charming?” he joked.
I shook my head, regretting the movement almost instantly. “Because you came after me when I know you didn’t want to. And you’ve kept your word ever since.”
We were just at the hallway that led to our apartments when he paused. “And you’ve kept yours. Also, for some forsaken reason, you make me laugh when little else does.”
I looked ahead, thankful to be close to sanctuary. “You only laugh because you like making jokes at my expense.”
“True. Very true,” he said, escorting me into the rooms. “Still, it’s effective.”
Acting the gentleman his title implored him to be, he opened the door for me, allowing me a moment to make sure I was steady on my feet before leaving.
“Go and rest,” he instructed. “I’m sure Father will want to regroup after the feast, but Scarlet or I will tell you everything if you’re still feeling poorly.”
“Thank you.”
“What does that look mean?” he asked, gesturing at my face.
“Scarlet and I were joking about becoming gypsies, and I’m just wondering if it’s too late.”
He laughed and reached for the door, heading back to the feast while I moved directly to the bed.
Fifteen
“ARE YOU AWAKE?” SCARLET WHISPERED from across the room.
“Barely,” I confessed. I cracked my eyes open to see the stars were now out in abundance on the other side of the window. “How was the rest of the feast?”
“Uncle Reid wants to meet and talk about just that. Do you want me to let you sleep?”
“No, no.” I hoisted myself up. My stomach had settled, and I wished I had something to eat now. It would certainly help. “I want to know everything that’s happening.”
Scarlet came over and took my hand, helping me walk. “You poor thing. That had to be terrifying.”
I elbowed her. “Better people have gone through worse.”
She gave me a small smile, a thing that felt like an absolute gift these days, and we joined the rest of the family.
“Hollis Eastoffe, you clever girl,” Uncle Reid greeted me. “You stayed incredibly calm under pressure back there. I know soldiers who would have broken into tears if His Majesty made any such threat to them. Well done.”
Mother was nodding and smiling but looking smug, as if she already knew I had that in me.
“Well, I suppose the maid who finds the cistern full of my sick won’t have such a high opinion of me, but I’ll take what I can.”
Etan laughed, but quickly silenced himself.
“We’re all proud of you regardless.” Uncle Reid clapped his hands together, looking at each of us in turn. “It seems Etan’s suspicions have been more than confirmed; I had countless people come up to me tonight and ask if it was true that Dashiell and the boys were dead. No one knew until today, and they simply couldn’t believe it.”
“Those who supported Silas as a future king were particularly crushed,” Aunt Jovana added. “I still don’t understand the secrecy.”
“Perhaps he knows he’s gone too far this time,” Scarlet offered. “It’s one thing to threaten a wing of the royal family, and another entirely to attempt to wipe them out.”
Uncle Reid shook his head. “It’s possible, but there’s something missing here. I can’t quite say what it is.”
“All I know is that we have more friends than I thought,” Mother said. “And the Northcott name has more support than ever.”
Uncle Reid sighed. “That’s encouraging. Truly. But it means nothing if we find no proof. No one will act if they could be imprisoned or worse for being wrong. We have to find evidence. Did anyone have any luck on that front tonight?”
Everyone in the room shook their heads, too disappointed to even speak their failure aloud.
Scarlet sighed. “The best I could manage was getting Lady Halton to have a little more wine than one ought. And all she did was complain about Valentina. They keep going on and on about her not giving them an heir.” Scarlet rolled her eyes, not aware of how important this very point of contention was.
Etan looked at me, his eyes pleading with me to share Valentina’s secret . . . and suddenly, I knew why I had to.
“This cannot leave this room,” I began.
Their attention focused squarely on me.
“Valentina has suffered three miscarriages.”
Mother gaped, and Scarlet went wide-eyed.
“Are you certain?” Uncle Reid asked.
“Yes. She told me herself. I know that you don’t consider her an ally, but I do. Ever since the tournament in Coroa, we’ve had an understanding, and she’s . . . she’s important to me.” I swallowed, taking in their questioning eyes. “But I’m starting to think she could be important to all of us.”
“In what way?” Aunt Jovana asked.
“In Coroa, we were talking about Jameson and Quinten, comparing their personalities. Somewhere in there, she started opening up. She doesn’t keep her distance from people by choice; Quinten insists upon it. He’s keeping her isolated. And she was . . . concerned for her safety. She tried to deny it later, but she knows her place here all depends upon her having another son for Quinten, and she’s lost three now.
“If she’s in danger, and we’re in danger, maybe she would be willing to help us.”
A light flickered behind Uncle Reid’s eyes. “Hollis . . . Hollis, of course! She has the best chance of anyone in the palace to get into the king’s rooms. She would know the safest paths in and out of his offices, where his papers are kept. If we could guarantee her safety, I bet she’d at least go and search for us.”
