by E. A. James
“They’re my troubles, though, and you—it makes sense to go to Maylorn, does it not?”
“Leonie,” he whispered, “I won’t leave you.”
Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes watering.
“Besides,” he said, glancing away, “Maylorn’s no doubt heard of the Mad Duchess’s proclamations by now. There’s not really a need for anyone to rush over there.”
Emotions swelled in her torso and seared through her veins. She could barely breathe past it all, her skin tingling and her heart pounding hard. She gazed at Adrik, a brave and dedicated soul—even if he was on the irritable side—and she felt herself longing for him.
Adrik’s brow lowered. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
She swallowed, a shaky sigh escaping her. “I just…I care for you. And it makes me—it makes it hard to think.” Her lips twitched upward. “I never imagined I could feel so…in so short a time? You hear about all those tales of warriors and princesses, but you never really think it’d be like that.”
His eyes widened a little, shoulders rising. For a few seconds, he remained frozen in some kind of state of shock, or perhaps, in a state of horror.
Leonie went cold, dread sinking from her throat to her belly. She kept staring at him—kept hoping she was reading him wrong—and he kept gaping at her in return.
Eventually, she forced herself to close her eyes and laugh. “I must be so tired, saying such gibberish to you. I’ll make more sense after I rest. Like the Healer said.”
“Yes,” Adrik choked out. “That would be best.”
Her lips quivered, a sob pressing against her throat. She gulped it down and turned away, her cheek pressing against a flat pillow.
A moment later, Adrik released her hand.
CHAPTER TEN
The remnants of a nightmare tensed her back as Leonie opened her eyes, dawn’s sunlight seeping through the curtains of the Healer’s room. The Healer snored in her large bed at the end of the room, Adrik snoozing in a small bed next to Leonie’s. Guards were still in the room, though they looked different from the guards Leonie had seen hours ago.
She rubbed her sore eyes and stretched, gasping as a dulled pain bloomed in her side. She patted the bandages absently—still dry, no torn stitches and no disrupted magic.
Assassin, her mind reminded her.
Adrik’s rejection.
Leonie closed her eyes as sorrow spiked up her chest. Inhaling sharply, she pushed herself into a sitting position—swaying a bit.
The guards said nothing. Good.
She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “Mathsus,” she whispered, “I was almost killed doing your will. Please make sense of this to me. How can I help if I don’t understand how?”
She was met with silence.
Her nostrils flared. “Very well.” She pulled her hands apart and pushed herself off her little bed, grinding her teeth together as pain pulsated through her torso. “I still have faith,” she breathed, “but if I must do this alone, so be it.” She limped over to the window and pushed the curtains aside.
Even these windows were fastened shut. So her intruder must have come through her bedroom door—the only way to enter the room. That meant that either the guards hadn’t been there, or the guards had let her attacker inside.
Leonie eyed the current guards, who blinked at her. Some glanced away, though they remained sturdy in their positions along the wall and beside the door.
Maybe the assassin somehow sneaked past the guards or had used a diversion to slip in unnoticed.
Leonie pressed one hand against her side and the other hand against the wall, her feet shuffling over the tiles as she made her way toward the guards. They frowned at her, and she frowned back. Though her heartbeat sped up, she refused to be afraid—refused to not face down those who risked the safety of innocents. She would ask whatever questions she needed, and she would—
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She jolted, hissing in pain and glaring to the side.
Adrik rose from his cot, his feet thumping against the ground as he hurried up to her. “You’re going to injure yourself further.” His hands hovered over her.
“I’m fine,” she said, swiping blindly at him. She shuffled forward, only to have his arm block her—trap her against the wall and his broad chest. She sighed. “Adrik, two kingdoms hang in the balance, and I’m pretty sure it had something to do with the person who tried to kill me last night. I’ll rest more after, but right now, we must look into this before it is too late.”
“What good does investigating do if you end up passing out before any real work gets done?”
“I won’t pass out.”
“That’s right because you’re going back to bed.”
“I’m not a child.” She pushed off the wall and pressed her belly against his arm. But as she tried to walk onward—tried to shove him out of the way—his arm didn’t move, and she ended up panting and wincing. “Okay, maybe I’m physically as weak as a child for now, but that doesn’t make you right.” She grabbed his upper arm to steady herself. “Move.”
“Leonie,” he rumbled, his low voice vibrating through her flesh, “I understand your concern, and you’re right to an extent. But you were just sliced open the night before. Let yourself rest for a little while more. Please.”
Her heartbeat stuttered. Please? Adrik had never pleaded for anything.
“We’ll save the entire world in no time,” Adrik said with a gentle smile, “but not if you keel over first.”
She squeezed his arm, sturdy and cold as ever. Her lips curled downward, even as her chest warmed. “Fine. I’ll rest for another hour.”
“Two.”
“One and a half.”
He rolled his eyes. “Very well.”
Grinning with triumph, she pushed off the wall and leaned fully against her Gargan friend. Despite his rigid texture, his clothing felt soft and smooth. But he kept her close—kept her standing and not sliding down his shirt—as he guided her back to their small beds.
“We still should warn Maylorn,” Leonie said, slowly lowering herself to her bed. She huffed. “Someone needs to tell them something, especially with assassins on the loose.”
“You say that like they’re a plague that just formed last night.”
“Might as well be,” she grumbled.
Adrik turned and asked one of the guards to speak to the King about sending a messenger to the Kingdom of Maylorn.
“Yes, sir,” one guard said, moving stiffly as he marched out of the room.
“Happy?” Adrik asked her.
“A little,” she admitted. “Thanks.”
He nodded.
She stared at the ceiling and squirmed, memories becoming more clouded the longer she tried to focus on them.
Last night, the door had opened—hadn’t it? Or something had moved in front of the door? Was there a secret entrance somewhere?
The thoughts clarified nothing, just making her head ache and her chest tightened. When the hour and a half came and went, she practically shoved herself off the bed and stumbled toward the door.
Adrik rushed to her side and let her lean against him. “You’re relentless,” he murmured.
“As are you,” she said.
He snorted.
Once they stood right in front of the guards, she panted out, “Do you know how the assassin got into my room? Who were the guards on duty outside my room?”
The guards glanced at each other. The one in front of her—a brunette with dark eyes—stepped forward and answered. “I’ve only heard that he entered through the door. I’m unsure which guards were stationed there, and I’m unsure if they have gone unpunished or not.”
She furrowed her brow. “Come on then,” she said as she limped toward the door, Adrik a heavy but strong crutch. “Let’s go to the scene of the crime and take a closer look at everything.”
The guards stood off to the side as she and Adrik wan
dered around the guest bedroom. But they found nothing new. Sealed windows, only one door to the room—
Leonie glared at the covers scattered over the floor from where she had rolled off the bed.
“You alright?” Adrik whispered in her ear.
She shivered, attempting to press closer against him. She pulled away instead, feeling cold. “Yes. Just frustrated.” She looked at the guards. “Were any of you at least near this room—or in the hallway—last night? Did you see or hear anything important?”
They all shook their head, except for one—the brunette with the dark eyes. He stared at his feet, face contorted like he was in pain.
Leonie pointed to him. “You. If you know something, you must say it. There’s too much at stake to keep quiet about such matters.”
The guard blew out a taut breath. “Well…I wasn’t right here, but I was stationed at the very end of this hallway. I heard you scream, and when I ran to this room, there weren’t any guards in front of it or in front of the Gargan’s door.”
Adrik stiffened.
The other guards sneered at him, and he hunched in response.
“Where were they?” Leonie asked.
The guard shrugged. “I don’t know, Young Duchess. I came into your room, and a few seconds later, others came running into the room to assist me. No one was far away, just…”
“Not close enough,” she said. She pressed her knuckles against her chin, her brow furrowing. “You know nothing else.”
“I don’t, truly,” the guard said.
Adrik growled, his grip on Leonie tightening a little. “So you don’t know why she was left defenseless last night?” He stepped forward and postured up to the guard.
Leonie tugged at Adrik, but he didn’t budge. The effort caused her to wince and huff. “Adrik, one thing at a time. We need to figure out what happened, not attack each other.”
“Not yet,” he muttered, relaxing a little against her soft weight.
“Do you have a guards’ station or something?” Leonie asked, remembering her own kingdom’s buildings for such occupants. “Some place in the palace or the kingdom where the guards are assigned their duties.”
“A few,” the guard said quietly. “The station for assignments within the palace is on the ground floor, in the Southwest tower.”
“Then that is our next destination. Someone has to know something about last night, and I’ll scour this entire kingdom until I find him or her.”
“As will I,” Adrik said slowing, scowling at all the guards.
The guards’ station was nothing more but a cramped room in the corner of the rectangular tower. There were a few chairs and tables within it, notes and schedules scattered everywhere. It was a disgraceful mess.
The guard coordinator on duty walked up to a glass shelf and motioned toward the piles of papers. “These are the schedules and duty assignments from the past month.” He searched through them. “The one from last night should be right on top, but I don’t see it.”
Adrik guided Leonie down into a chair, his fingers brushing over her bandages. Once she was settled—facial muscles relaxed—he stormed over to the guard and shoved him to the side. “I’ll find it. Why don’t you and your men do your job right for a change and watch the doors for me?”
“Adrik,” Leonie scolded softly, shaking her head.
Adrik didn’t look back at her, his eyes focused on his task.
The guard shrunk away and stood by one of the doors, the others standing along one of the tower’s large windows.
A moment later, Adrik turned around and held three sheets of paper in his hands. “I found them.” His eyes scanned one page, and then the next one, and then the last one. “Two guards—Ahmed and Wallah—were scheduled to stand in front of her door between ten o’clock and midnight. No one is scheduled after them. The same is true for the two guards stationed outside my door, but they left a few minutes after Ahmed and Wallah.”
All the guards present went stiff, eyes wide.
The guard coordinator stuttered. “That—that can’t be right.” He approached Adrik and reached for the papers. “May I?”
Adrik cocked an eyebrow—or shifted his stony brow accordingly—but he did hand the guard the papers.
He went through them quickly and paled. “I…I can’t believe such a huge oversight was made.”
Adrik crossed his arms, frown deepening. “I don’t think it was an oversight.”
The guard coordinator went even paler.
Leonie waved at them to obtain their attention. “Who assigns the guards their duties?”
“The royals send assignments and they are doled out by coordinators,” the guard said, wheezing a little. He sucked in a breath and gawked at the papers.
Leonie’s face scrunched. “There isn’t a captain of the guard or anything like that? The chain of command goes straight to the royals?”
The guard coordinator nodded.
“Princess Froda,” Adrik said, lips curled in a snarl.
Leonie lowered her gaze and shook her head. “But…Mathsus didn’t answer my prayer. She had proved me to be the fool. What would killing me gain her?”
“I say we ask,” Adrik said. He turned to the guards. “Where is she?”
The guard went rigid, shoulders raised and gloved hands clenched into tight fists. “No,” he choked out. “No, she would never do such a thing. She’s an opinionated person, but she would never stoop to assassination! That’s absurd.”
Adrik got into the man’s personal space and shoved the papers against his chest. “Where are Wallah and Amed then? Perhaps they won’t be cowardly in the face of truth.”
The guard flinched. “I…I don’t know.”
Adrik spun around and returned to the glass shelf, his large hands looking through all the papers once again.
“We have our honor,” the guard said, shaking his head. “We’re an honorable people—accepting, tolerant, noble. What you’re suggesting…”
The rest of the guards stayed quiet, their gazes locked on Adrik.
Leonie shifted in her seat. “I pray that you’re right,” she said softly, her fingers patting her bandage. “I wish to prevent chaos, not cause it.”
Adrik turned back around slowly, several papers crumpled and crooked in his hands. He glanced over them and blinked rapidly.
Leonie's chest went cold. “Adrik? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find today’s schedule, but these…” He walked up to her and dropped some of the pages in her lap. “They show Amed and Wallah guarding the dungeons for the past several months.”
“So?”
Adrik shook his head. “There hasn’t been anyone in the dungeons long term for over a year. The Kingdom of Sallimor has only reported having minor crimes committed within it.” He looked at the guards. “Unless I’m mistaken and you lot have a horde of murderers you’re hiding.”
“No!” the guard cried. “But—but it’s not unusual to have guards stationed in places such as that. Security is security.”
“Fine,” Adrik said, glaring. “But is it normal to have the same two guards on the same exact shift for several months until last night, when they were ordered to guard a Young Duchess’s door for a couple of hours?”
Leonie glanced through the papers and found that this was indeed the case.
The guard’s mouth hung open, and he turned to his fellows. They just shifted on their feet and fiddled with their fingers.
Adrik’s glare deepened. “Take us to the dungeons.”
Leonie nodded. “That’s a good idea. If nothing else, we must clear this mess up.”
The guards relaxed a little, though he was still a shade too pale to be comfortable with this course of the conversation. He clasped his hands together tightly, breaths heaving out of him.
Leonie grunted as she stood, papers falling to the floor and her feet swaying. As Adrik rushed to her side—his arm a solid pillar for her to lean against—she said, “Come on. Now. Take
us there.”
In the palace courtyard—in the very center of it where the ground was made out of stone rather than foliage—there was a wide wooden door with several key holes all over its smooth surface. Sunlight gleamed over the door and the bronze key holes, and it seemed to glow a blinding gold.
The guards marched up to it, the guard hanging back with his lips pressed tightly together.
A few guards moved to the side, turned, and tilted their heads back. The other guards continued on to the door, their gloved hands taking out various shaped keys from their respective pockets. Then they all went to specific spots on the door and pushed their keys in the right places.
