"But what about me?" Father demanded, his voice rising. One of the guards stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The King shook his head slightly. The guard stepped back though I noted all of them stayed wary.
"Yes, indeed, what about you?" the King repeated. He lounged in his chair, still managing to appear royal. The King glanced at his wife. "My dear, isn't a Merchant needed in Bashir?"
The Queen caught the King's eye. From my position, I could see her eyes twinkle, though her mouth stayed unsmiling. "Yes, Husband, I believe that is the case."
The King leaned forward. "Master Walton, as appreciation for releasing your son into service as a Soul Tender, I will permit you to abandon your obligations here. You may travel to Bashir to take a post in the Merchant Head's household."
Surprise flooded me until the meaning behind his words registered. Abandoning his obligations here would mean giving up claim to me, Mum, and Delia, if she chose. The deliberately vague position in a Head's household could be anything. It was entirely possible my father would be scrubbing bathrooms. He was either too drunk or too stupid to register the omission.
"Yes," Father said without a glance in Mum's direction. Mum's face was blank. I imagined she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I would appreciate the opportunity."
"Very well," the King responded quickly. "I will process the divorce immediately and inform the Merchant Head of Bashir that you will attend him shortly. Mistress Walton, if you have no objections, William can leave immediately." Mum shook her head. "Excellent. William, I will have a guard attend you."
Father sputtered as the situation clicked in his mind, but the time for negotiation had passed. Two beefy, unnamed guards lifted him from his chair. His face reddened. He tried to throw their arms off, his footsteps wavering. I breathed in deeply. Could it be true? Was ridding myself of my father really that easy? I caught Mum's eye and she smiled wanly at me. She might be surprised by the suddenness of the events but she was free. Relief displayed itself obviously within the set of her shoulders.
When Father reached the door, he looked back and called for Delia. Delia looked at her plate. Her hands twisted in her lap and she didn't answer. If she followed Father, she would forego her chance to test next week. She wouldn't do that, not even for Father. Their similarly selfish natures didn't even permit them to care for each other. Father stomped his foot like a child but finally disappeared. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Miss Walton," the Queen looked straight at Delia. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to take you on a tour of the palace."
Delia, her momentary anguish regarding her father lifting away like it never existed, nodded exuberantly. I had a moment of disappointment that I wasn't being included when the King spoke up. "Mistress Walton, if you and your elder daughter would humor me for a moment, I would enjoy your company."
Mum nodded. The Queen rose. She and Delia disappeared through a side door. The servants cleared away the dishes and we waited for the room to quiet.
"I apologize if that was done rather hastily," the King said to my mother.
Mum's face didn't reveal any emotion. "It's quite all right, Your Majesty. We haven't carried affection for each other for years. I was planning on petitioning for divorce after my daughters tested."
The King sighed heavily, looking ten years older. "I have a couple matters I would like to discuss with both of you. Please, walk with me." He stood. Mum and I followed suit. We didn't have much choice in the matter. The King gestured and Mason came forward. "You have met Mason Brantley?" Mum and I nodded. The King studied my reaction carefully, increasing my flustered reaction to Mason's presence. "Good. Mason, you are dismissed to attend the other matter which requires your attention."
Mason's gaze lingered upon me. I sensed his hesitancy and a whiff of sadness I wondered at. But, he had been commanded by his King. He couldn't disobey. He bowed over my hand, and his broad back receded down the hall.
After Mason's retreat, the King turned towards us. The corridor we walked along was one of the King's private halls. I glanced about, wondering how many ears listened. No servants lingered in these halls.
I longed to see Ian, noting I could no longer feel him. His presence here would soothe me as nothing else would. He said he would always be near and as such, I expected him close by in the times when matters were the most confusing.
The King walked next to Mum and motioned that I should occupy his other side. Guards trailed behind us, and I was painfully aware Mason was not among them.
"Mistress Walton," King Caden began.
"Please, call me Matilda if you will, Your Majesty."
"Very well. Matilda, I fear I have done you a great disservice." He stopped, facing my mother. I moved to her side so I could see his face. I was drawn to protect her, even though I could accomplish nothing against the King without earning some dastardly punishment. Mum opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a raised hand. "William Walton was not your true Soul Match."
Anger filled me. The hallway blurred to a point. I no longer saw the expensive tapestries, glowing gas lanterns or the beautifully carved oak doors lining the walls. For years, my Mum had been terrorized by the man who donated sperm to my birth. The King had possessed the knowledge all along. My teeth ground together as I withheld my words.
"I'm aware of this," Mum admitted.
The King’s eyes widened. "You knew? All along?"
"No, Your Majesty, not all along. I met a man about three years ago. What I felt for William was nothing compared to the pull I experienced towards this other man. I knew my husband was not my Soul Match."
"Ah," the King said. I wondered if he'd even considered her happiness after negligently pairing her with a random citizen. What goal had their match possibly served? "Well, then I am doubly sorry." He infused his words with sincerity.
I couldn't decide whether I believed the genuineness of his statement. If he was so sorry, why had he paired them? Why hadn't he dissolved their marriage before now? Mum's true match was likely married by now. Not many people chose to live alone. They gave up hope of bonding with their Soul Match sometime in their twentieth or thirtieth decade and accepted the next best thing, a companion they would grow to love. It was one reason why divorces existed.
Even Soul Matches couldn't always cultivate a happy pairing. The two individuals might have entirely different living styles or different Houses. Some chose not to sacrifice their ambition to love. Some opted to be together but not married. The kingdom allowed separate living quarters if children were not born, but they preferred children have married parents. The irony was sickening. Having both parents had not been beneficial for any of the Walton children. Mum would have sought a divorce long ago if not for us. The very notion was misguided.
"If you are so sorry, why did you pair that man and my mother?" I demanded. Mum paled noticeably at my insolence. The King chuckled, surprising me. Nothing he did or said tonight seemed characteristic, especially where I was concerned.
"No, Matilda, she has the right to ask. I have talked to Rowan. I understand that being William's wife wasn't easy. I can't imagine being his daughter was any easier." Mum shifted uncomfortably, but I continued to face down the man in front of me. I forgot for a moment that he was the King. "Your pairing was one of the most difficult decisions I encountered after I officially took the throne. The Soul Tenders received a vision. You and William were not true Soul Matches but the Fates demanded your pairing. I admit the matter had mostly faded from my mind until Rowan was called to our tower."
"Why would the Fates demand they pair if they weren't a true match?" I still wasn't certain I believed every word he said, though the likelihood of him forgetting about two citizens unimportant to him was plausible.
"That, my dear girl, is an excellent question. I assume the Fates insisted because the union produced Rowan, our latest Soul Tender." His piercing green eyes bored into mine. A hidden meaning rested behind that look, but I wouldn't push an
y further. I was certain my Mum would have a heart attack if I didn't back down.
My anger fizzled out slowly as I forced even, deep breaths. I would accomplish nothing for my mother by getting mad at the King. I was grateful he had sent my father away. If that were part of his apology, and I now thought it was, then I was more content with his sincerity. However, she had still lost hours of research and many years she could have been in first tier.
"To further apologize, I would like to offer something of value," the King continued.
Mum shook her head. "Your Majesty, that isn't necessary. A divorce is all I require."
"Please, let me finish." His eyes met mine again, lighter this time. "Your daughter is having difficulty with the manner in which tests are administered. I would like to make that up to you, to both of you. I would like to postpone her testing and have her tutored here, at the palace."
"Your Majesty, that is far more..." Mum protested. My spine stiffened in similar alarm. I suspected he wanted something out of this, something I couldn't fathom with my limited knowledge. What he offered was unprecedented. Maybe he wanted to hide the erratic disaster away from the remainder of his ordered society?
"Matilda, I insist." The King's authoritative tone brooked no argument.
Mum fidgeted, her hands smoothing her robes. She couldn't refuse his gift without appearing rude. His insistence was just shy of a decree. "Very well," Matilda relented. Her words shocked me, even though I was expecting them.
"Mum," I hissed. Her steel blue eyes, firm with command, silenced me. She held far more sway over my reactions than the King. She had earned my respect and obedience through many years of excellent mothering and the sacrifices she had made. Most of those sacrifices were because of the man in front of me. He had to earn my trust and respect.
"Excellent. Come; let me introduce you to Kiarra's tutors."
The King turned on his heel and swept off down the hall, his royal purple cloak billowing behind him. I stared in stupefied silence. Finally, realizing he and my mother were leaving me behind, I hurried to catch up.
I tried to catch Mum's eye, but she wouldn't look at me. She walked beside the King, staring straight ahead. If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn she was in on the plan with the King.
I didn't want to stay in the palace. My father was gone, and I was being offered a reprieve from my tests, the only caveat that I agree to be tutored in the palace. My world tilted on its axis. The royal family did not involve themselves overmuch in the lives of Treleaven's citizens. The Advisors and the Heads were the go-betweens between the palace and the citizens beyond the gates. Invitations to the balls and galas held within the inner circle were extended only to first tier and occasional second tier recipients. We had never been within the gates before today, and now I was being offered lessons within the mysterious palace simply out of the goodness of the King's heart? Or perhaps a sense of well-earned guilt? My nerves refused to settle.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ian
The room reeked of testosterone. Ian had been lounging against the wall for several minutes, listening to the stuffy Advisors ramble about how they had been chosen for the ultimate honor. He hadn't heard anything of note yet.
The Advisors hadn't said who they were advising. Were they being groomed for the sadistic Crown Prince or was something shadier happening? The dark look in his House Advisor's eyes told him they were not being given all the information. He and his House Advisor were more than just colleagues. Advisor Carson had pulled him off the streets as a young teenager, and they'd spent many an evening discussing threats against the crown over a glass of wine.
Ian had expected the four apprentices. Mason was still attending the King's dinner with Kiarra. He had spied on the first part of the dinner, but had a hard time focusing on anything but the way Kiarra glittered under the lights. She had looked as royal as the ruling couple in her dress. He wished he were still watching them and not here. Events had just started to become interesting when his Advisor had pulled him away. He hoped William Walton had been properly kicked to the curb. If not, he could place some evidence in the right places. The Walton women, even ice queen Delia, deserved better.
He mustered the monumental effort of refocusing on the room. The Planning Advisor was the only one talking as the other Advisors shifted nervously. His fellow apprentices sensed their moods. The Scholar was particularly suspicious judging by the look on his face. His brother seemed far more gullible. Clay had been pleased to meet them, but he was the only one here who didn't realize they were all chasing after Kiarra. Ian wondered how the Merchant would react to the news.
The door opened and Mason strolled in, his shoulders stiff. All gazes turned to him as his pale eyes scanned the room. His smile itched when he saw Ian but otherwise, the occupants of the chamber didn't appear to surprise him either. He nodded to Reed and Seb. Mason's eyes met the Merchant’s and dipped lower. A quick glance at Ian and the spy's confirming nod answered Mason's unasked question whether this was Kiarra's particular Merchant.
The Information Exchange Advisor, Simon Carson, sighed heavily. "Finally. We were told to wait for young Mason's arrival before we imparted the most important information. Now you are all here. Mason, what took so long?"
Ian snickered to himself. That was why the Planning Advisor had been spouting nonsense. He could have just permitted them to talk amongst themselves. He would have liked the chance to better acquaint himself with the other men as he would soon be spending a lot of time with them. The meetings had been poorly timed.
"Yeah, brother," Ian teased lightly. "How was the King's dinner with Kiarra?" Three sets of surprised eyes turned his way, Clay's the most shocked. The three others hadn't known she’d be in the castle and Clay didn't realize any of them were even acquainted with her. Ian again thanked the Saints for his gift. He would despise being so oblivious.
Mason glanced at Carson. The Advisor shrugged, sweeping a hand to invite the soldier to share the news. Mason still seemed uncertain, so Ian stepped in. "We are all going to be Advisors together, brother, so any news can be shared within this room. By the way, I believe you haven't met Master Clay Jackson yet."
Clay rose on one crutch and shook the large man's hand. Ian had been impressed with the strength in his grip when he'd introduced himself officially to the Merchant earlier. Clay might not have proper coordination with his feet, but he didn't neglect his upper body.
Ian had admitted quietly to the young man that he'd been the one to steal the missive, not wanting the Merchant to worry another had pilfered it. Clay's reaction had vacillated between disgruntlement, relief, and grudging respect. Ian imagined a boy who had grown up on the docks would be doubly aware of pickpockets. Then again, he had been most pleasantly distracted at the time. Ian now knew firsthand how much a kiss from Kiarra could addle the brain.
"You are another of Kiarra's admirers, then?" Mason asked the Merchant.
Clay stared at him with a perplexed expression. "Another?"
Ian chuckled. This was better drama than you paid to see in theater. "The five of us young men are all chasing after the same woman. I imagine this plays into our role here, but we still have yet to receive the particulars."
Clay retook his seat. He didn't appear upset, merely thoughtful once his shock wore off. The foster brothers shared a glance. If they had been hoping there were only four men in the running, they were sorely disappointed. Ian entertained a moment of fancy as he imagined them dueling to the death for the fair lady's hand. Thankfully, their King was not so savage. He wouldn't want to kill these fine men anyway. Following them had revealed their characters to him. Reed was reserved. Ian wasn't entirely certain whether the stick up his ass was an act or just a byproduct of his introverted nature. Seb was as gullible as a new born babe, but he was exceedingly loyal and knew how to have a good time. Clay’s only fault was that he appeared to be too nice. Despite their character flaws, his fellow apprentices were noble, honest men.
> "The dinner was mostly uneventful until the end,” Mason said. “William Walton, Kiarra's father, became extremely inebriated and made a fuss about being relegated to Scholar House because of his wife's superior testing scores. The King has granted the Waltons a divorce and assigned William to the Head of the Merchant House in Bashir."
Ian didn't bother to hide his relieved smirk. The Merchant Head in Bashir was an astute asshole. He wouldn't put up with William's bullshit. Ian was doubly glad the father wouldn't be around to abuse the mother or Kiarra any longer. He'd heard disturbing rumors while he'd dug into the Walton family secrets. Ian had learned from a private medical file that the father had forced himself upon Mistress Walton to beget the three children. He wanted to kill the man just for that, but had restrained himself, hoping the King would manage the situation. The information had been passed along to his House Advisor, and ultimately the King.
"What about the sister?" Ian asked.
"She stayed," Mason replied shortly. That was a shame. Ridding the city of both of them would have been preferable. "William was removed immediately, and the Queen has taken the youngest sister on a tour of the castle. The King is speaking with Kiarra and her mother now."
The Information Advisor stepped forward again with a nod. Ian was still slightly miffed he hadn't been able to prize any secrets from his mentor. "King Caden, Kiarra Walton, and her mother will be joining us shortly. In the meantime, I was instructed to prepare the five of you for a portion of the information the King will reveal when he arrives. The Soul Tenders have been busy, their visions prophetic and shared among them. The young Kiarra has five Soul Matches, one from each House."
Seb gasped. His reaction was the only plainly audible noise. The rest of the men weighed each other's responses. Ian observed the Scholar, most concerned with his opinion. He wasn't certain of Reed's temperament. Nothing gave him away except a slight clenching of his fists.
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