by K. A. Linde
She was thankful, but it was also a bit scary how easy it had been. Even with the castle basically on lockdown and the guard presence tripled. Spies could go anywhere apparently.
“My King,” Fenix said, sweeping Kael a low bow.
Kael was seated at a chair, picking at a plate of meats and cheeses. But he rose to his feet when he saw Fenix step through the door and sketch a bow.
“Ah, so you are back,” Kael said with narrowed eyes.
“Of course. As I said that I would be.”
“How exactly do I know that I can trust you? You were in Aurum with Cyrene and her ramshackle army. You have been working with them.”
“Yes, of course, I was. You were the one who had sent me there. I did my job exactly as you’d told me. No one suspected a thing.”
“That is what I am afraid of here,” Kael mused. A cloud of black appeared in his fingertips. “Perhaps I should drag my claws through your mind and find out what the truth really is.”
Fenix shrugged as if Kael hadn’t just suggested a heinous invasion. “You are welcome to if you would like, Your Majesty. But that would mean that you truly believe our trust is broken. I have nothing to hide from you.”
Rhea swallowed. Would Kael actually do it? Pluck information about what their army was doing out of Fenix’s mind?
Kael strode forward, getting right into Fenix’s face. That dark power radiating off of him. Dark and ominous. “No one trusts a spy.”
Fenix didn’t balk. “I helped put you on that throne. I have done everything that you asked of me. If you are upset about Cyrene being here and not capturing her, then do not take it out on me. I was not aware this was where she was headed until she came back.”
“She was here!” Kael growled. “I knew it. I bloody knew it. She was here, just out of my reach, and then the next morning, she was gone.” He whirled on Fenix. “What was she doing here?”
“She came to try to smuggle her sister out of the castle,” he lied like a pro.
Rhea couldn’t believe it. He’d just put it out there as if it were the truth. He was scary good at this.
“Elea?” Kael asked in confusion. “But she would have told me.”
“Cyrene saw you with her and realized Elea was a lost cause. She never even spoke to her,” Fenix lied just as smoothly.
Kael shook his head and then frowned. That dark tendril of magic seemed to press against Fenix. Tried to wring the truth from him. Rhea feared for Elea when Kael saw her next. She needed to warn her. Elea had survived this long at Kael’s mercy. Rhea didn’t want something to happen to her now.
Kael stepped back, seemingly pleased with whatever he saw in Fenix’s mind. Some truth that he must have put together to trick Kael.
“Fine.” He went back to his table and picked up a grape. “Tell me everything.”
Rhea stepped back from the peephole. She knew that she should stay. That she should wait for Fenix to finish with Kael. But she had no clue how long they would be in there. And Kael might call for Elea to satisfy his interest in that time. Rhea couldn’t let that happen.
With all the quietness she had mastered, thanks to years in a library and then a lab, she slipped out of her alcove and tiptoed down the spy tunnel. She remembered the direction that they had come from. She tucked her hood up tight and snuck toward the queen’s chambers. She didn’t know where Kael had put Elea yet, but Kaliana’s old suite made the most sense. They were betrothed, and he’d want her in the nicest rooms while he waited to claim his prize.
Rhea carefully turned the corner and then hurried down the next tunnel. She knew the general direction of the queen’s chambers from here. Though she didn’t know it as well as she would have liked, having only spent a few months here after her Receiver, Master Caro Barca, had been relocated from Albion in the south. She hadn’t seen him since he and Eren rescued her from the dungeons. Her heart still ached at the thought of Eren’s death.
She swallowed hard. She needed to get her head on straight. She was new at this spy work, but Elea had to be warned. That was the priority.
She walked down two more tunnels around a long curve and then took another turn toward what she assumed was the direction of the Affiliate chambers, near where the queen’s rooms were located. But, when she turned, she ran smack dab into a man dressed in the all black of the guard uniform.
She yelped and backed up.
But he reached out and grasped her forearm. “What are you doing in here?”
“I…I…” she muttered. “I’m here…at the…the request of the king.”
“Are you now?” he growled. “Because it looks like you’re slinking around the castle, trying not to get caught. Why don’t we take you back to His Majesty and see what he has to say about it?”
“No, please,” she gasped, trying to wrench her arm free.
But he was too strong.
What had she been thinking? She should have just listened to Fenix. If she was taken back to Kael now, then he would know everything. All that Cyrene was doing and where everyone was going. All the allies that they were attempting to make. That Fenix was not in fact his man. Then Fenix would never have a chance to get into Malysa’s circle. Rhea would ruin everything.
“Stop fighting and just walk with me,” the guard growled.
“You there!” another voice shouted from behind them.
The man whirled around. “Who goes th—”
But he never finished his sentence as a small cloud of black dust was blown into the guard’s face. Rhea turned her head away at the last moment. The guard inhaled sharply. His hand slackened on her arm. She glanced back up at him, and suddenly, his eyelids were falling, and he wobbled unsteadily on his feet. To her shock, he collapsed backward in a heap as if he had fainted.
Rhea’s eyes widened in horror and then moved to the man who had thrown the dust at the guard. Scared to find out if he was her savior or new captor.
“Saw you and the spy scurrying through the castle. Might be time to find a place to hide,” the man said, coming out of the shadows. He tipped his black hood back and grinned madly.
“Master Barca,” Rhea gasped, flinging herself into the mad inventor’s arms.
He laughed and patted her head. “Come now. We must be clear of these tunnels. They’re not safe.”
“But how are you here?”
“I’ve been on the run, but no one can seem to pinpoint my location. It might be because I set up traps all over the castle, and my inventions keep them on the run. Now, let’s get you somewhere safe to talk.”
“But I need to speak to Elea and warn her.”
Master Barca wrinkled his nose. “That poor girl is too far gone, my dear.”
“She’s not,” Rhea insisted. “She’s on our side.”
“I highly doubt it, but we will go to her when it is safer, if that pleases you. Right now, let me get you out of here.”
“What have you been doing this whole time?” Rhea asked.
He grinned. “Second-guessing my own mentality about what our inventions should be used for…and re-creating what you started.”
Rhea raised her eyebrows. “You re-created the bombs?”
“Even better,” he said with a wink. “Follow me. I’ll show you what I’ve been doing. Then we’ll come back for your spy and see if we can trust Elea.”
Rhea nodded and followed him through the ever-darkening tunnels, excited once again for the possibility of learning something new. Perhaps her place in this war would be exactly where she had always felt like she belonged—with her books and inventions.
27
The Twin
Cyrene glared at the approaching city line with contempt. Kaliana had insisted on protocol for entering Trinnenberg, the capital city of Tiek. Their king—her brother, Killian—was a proud man. In fact, they were a proud country, determined that everyone had a place in life and everyone must follow it.
So, after dropping Reeve, Aubron, and Cal in Tenchala, Halcyon had flown them down to
the army while Kaliana trained Cyrene and Dean on proper presentation and behavior in the Tiekan court. Both of them were trained courtiers, and still, Cyrene found the whole thing infuriating.
She just wanted to stroll into the palace and demand that they ally with her. Preferably by giving her access to their army. But of course, that wouldn’t work.
Cyrene would have to pull back out her fancy Affiliate training and play the part she had been bred for.
Which meant that Sarielle and Halcyon had dropped them off leagues from Trinnenberg to an estate that Kaliana said was still favorable to her. She had been right. The aging duchess had ushered her inside, outfitted them all in incredible Tiekan gowns with full corsets, an intense bustle to hold up the long material in the rear, and sleeves that were stiff to the elbow before waterfalling down the front of the gown. She’d even given them little fascinators to match. Then she had pushed them into her own carriage and sent them to court.
Three days inside a carriage was much worse than riding a horse. Cyrene could feel every bump and bruise along the way. Her temper was high, which was never a good thing. Definitely not good for negotiations.
“Please school your features,” Kaliana said with a sigh. “My brother is an expert statesman. My father died right before I married. Killian sent me away so that no one would look at me during the funeral. I was isolated much of my childhood anyway, but it just showed that he would always do what he thought was best for him. He’s charming and generous. The people love him.” She looked at Cyrene with a frown. “He’s generous with his attention, too. He still hasn’t married, but he’s had many mistresses.” Kaliana pointedly fixed her stare on Cyrene’s hair. “We want him to like you.”
Dean grunted next to her. “He sounds like a scoundrel.”
“He is,” Kaliana said. “But he is still the king.”
“He’ll like me,” Cyrene said. She didn’t have another choice.
“And you keep your opinions to yourself,” Kaliana said, pointing at Dean. “We don’t want Prince Dean Ellison of Eleysia, if you please.”
“I know my role,” he said and then added, “Your Majesty.”
Kaliana smiled. “Oh, I do like that.”
Cyrene forced her own features to relax and look stately as they trundled into Trinnenberg. Cyrene had researched Tiek when she was tutored long ago. She had thought when she finally traveled there that it would be most impressive, as it had always been described. But…it really wasn’t.
It was a dirty, crowded city with narrow streets that kicked up dust. People pissed on the streets, and muck was thrown over balconies into the street below. The populace was filthy with smudges on their cheeks and mud on the hems of their clothing.
It was a sharp contrast to their elaborate royal garb. And it made Cyrene feel sick. One of their dresses could have fed a family for years. She knew that there was poverty everywhere, but she hated to see it in such extremes like this. Especially having been in Kinkadia, where the streets were thoroughly cleaned and the people were so happy. If it was possible there, it was possible here.
Kaliana also seemed to notice it. “I don’t…remember it being like this.”
“We all romanticize our homes,” Dean said with a sigh. “It’s easy to do.”
And they lapsed into silence as they passed through the palace gates and came to a stop before the front doors. Their coachman hopped down and helped them out of the carriage.
A man in expensive attire appeared before them. “This is a pleasant surprise.” He bowed for Kaliana. “We received word that you were on your way home, my lady, just this morning.”
“I prefer to be addressed as Your Majesty,” Kaliana said, tilting her chin up. “You can take us to my brother, the king, now, Elgin.”
Elgin blinked rapidly at her as if he couldn’t quite believe that she had been so direct. Perhaps Kaliana had been different here than in Byern.
“Right. Of course, Your Majesty. Right this way. The king is awaiting your presence in the throne room.”
Kaliana stepped forward, and Cyrene hastened to her side. It was important to show that they were equals as dowager queen and Domina. Show the power that they wielded together. Let her brother see the joint authority. Dean stood at their backs, his hand on Shadowbreaker as they entered the Trinnenberg palace.
Compared to the dilapidated appearance of the city, the palace was spotless. It sparkled with cleanliness. The walls adorned with incredible tapestries and priceless artwork. The hallways carpeted in expensive Eleysian rugs. Everything was gilded and ostentatious. A monarchy that had trapped their people into believing that the only way to move up in the world was to pick themselves up by their bootstraps. While the rich only grew richer on the backs of the impoverished. It was a travesty.
Then Cyrene stepped into the throne room. She nearly whistled. She had seen some rich places, but this one…really out did itself.
And the man seated on the throne was just as garishly dressed as his palace. In swaths of gold and ruby red—the colors of Tiek. Gems glittered on every finger, and he was even wearing a heavy-looking crown. He held an actual scepter of pure gold encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.
He was handsome somewhere under all of that. Stark blonde hair and clear blue eyes. A pronounced jaw and straight nose. He didn’t quite smile at them but just looked impassive. As if he was used to being looked at and found beautiful and majestic.
It was only when Cyrene got closer that she noticed what she had not before. The thing that Kaliana had not mentioned in all of their training.
They were twins.
He looked uncannily familiar to Kaliana.
“Your Majesty,” Kaliana said, dipping a small curtsy befitting their near equal station. Then she straightened and smiled. “Brother.”
He nodded his head at her. “Sister, it is good to see you. Though I did not expect you here.”
“Nor did I expect to return to you. It is with great tidings that I am here. Allow me to present to you, Her Majesty, Domina Cyrene. Domina, my brother, His Majesty, King Killian Lleyton of Tiek.”
Cyrene showed no outward sign of discomfort at those words. Her Majesty. They were false, of course. That was not what the Domina was. But, if it got his attention, then that was all the better.
“It is a pleasure,” Cyrene said, barely nodding to show deference. It was probably less than what Kaliana would have liked, but now that she was here, she saw that Killian Lleyton was no equal to her. King or otherwise.
He certainly noticed. A small smile finally touched his pretty, plump lips. “Domina Cyrene, what a beautiful visage you make. Tell me, what throne do you sit on exactly?”
“I rule over all Doma,” she said easily.
Killian grinned. “Doma. Didn’t the Dremylons wipe them out some time ago?”
“Indeed. I suppose they were not thorough enough, and we have returned.” She raised her chin and lifted the edge of her mouth with arrogance. “With a vengeance.”
He laughed, clearly enjoying her display. “Well, that is something new in this world. I do enjoy new things. I would like to hear how you became this Domina.”
“And I would love to share it with you,” she said, letting her voice dip suggestively.
Finally, the king rose from his throne. He walked down the dais steps and strode toward them, breaching the gap he had purposely put between them. He held his arms out for his sister and held her close.
“Little Kali Cat,” Killian said affectionately, “not so little any longer, are you?”
“Neither are you, brother.”
He turned to Cyrene and took a step into her immediate vicinity. A little too close for propriety’s sake, all things considered. Then, he scooped up her hand and placed a daring kiss there. “It is a pleasure to have you in Trinnenberg. I do hope that you will do me the honor of staying through the season.”
“Through…the season,” Cyrene said carefully.
“Yes, of course. Surely, my s
ister has told you that we celebrate Beltane tomorrow.”
Cyrene looked at Kaliana, who remained blank-faced. “Of course. The May Day holiday. I have read much about this festival. It is about springtime dance with gifts and a maypole and dancing to celebrate new growth and the coming of summer.”
“New growth and fertility,” Killian said with a dangerously charming smile. “We have a dance in the gardens tomorrow night after the city festivities have been completed. You will attend.”
Cyrene nodded because there was no other choice. “I would be delighted.”
Killian glanced behind her and seemed to take Dean in for the first time. “And your…guard?”
“Yes,” Kaliana said quickly. “The captain of her guard.”
“Your guard will come, too?”
“He does not like to dance,” Cyrene said.
“Then, he can watch us dance,” Killian said with a knowing grin.
“If you wish.”
“I do,” he said smoothly. “Now, I must return to matters of the state. If you need anything, anything at all, while here in Trinnenberg, do not hesitate to ask. The servants will provide you everything. And I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.”
Then Killian grinned devilishly at them all before turning and striding from the room.
A servant materialized, as promised, and offered to show them to their suites. They had apparently already been made up in preparation for their visit.
Once cloistered inside what had to be some of the gaudiest rooms she had ever seen, Cyrene flopped back onto a chaise. “God, he is a deceitful snake, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Kaliana said, sitting primly. “He always has been.”
“What will I do?” Cyrene asked.
“You will go to the Beltane dance. You will dance all night long. You will have the best night of your life. There is no other possibility,” Kaliana said, ignoring Dean’s glare. “Not if you want his help.”
Kaliana was right.
There was no other choice.
