The Forsaken Crown (The Desolate Empire Book 0)

by Christina Ochs

  Outbuildings, including a large barn, surrounded a cobbled courtyard, into which Sonya and Irena rode. No one was about, unsurprising, considering the cold.

  “To the barn,” Sonya said. “We’ll take care of the animals first.”

  She dismounted at the barn door, and pulled at it. It wasn’t latched, so she opened it and walked through, leading Zeki and the donkeys attached to him.

  The sound of a saw came from a corner, but it halted.

  “Is it time for coffee already?” That was her brother Dominyk’s voice.

  “I have no idea,” Sonya said, a smile spreading across her face as she looked around for him.

  He came toward her now, wiping his hands on his breeches, squinting in the gloom.

  Sonya’s eyes adjusted and she saw he looked the same as before. Well, not exactly. When she’d gone, Dominyk had been a boy of sixteen, now he was twenty-three. He’d already been tall and broad-shouldered then, now he was taller and thicker, and heavy stubble covered his face. Sonya had always been annoyed that her brother had been the pretty one, but there seemed to be little left of that now.

  “Sonka? Is it really you?”

  Sonya nodded, finding herself unable to speak as Dominyk gathered her into his arms. Normally, her old nickname annoyed her, but right now the way he’d used it so spontaneously warmed her through. He crushed her face into his shoulder, which smelled of sweat and wood chips.

  When she pulled away, she blinked and smiled some more. “I’m here for a short visit. Ensign Tchernak and I,” she nodded toward Irena, who’d hung back a little, “are here on military business. We have to go to Heidenhof, but thought we’d look in here first.”

  “Of course you did.” Dominyk clapped her on the shoulder and offered a large paw to Irena. “Welcome to the Torner farm. It’s not fancy, but I promise you’ll be well fed.”

  “Sounds marvelous,” Irena said.

  Dominyk shouted a name, and a stable boy came at a run. Between the four of them the horses and donkeys were soon put in warm stalls, fed and watered. The supplies that remained they piled up against the walls. Sonya had only one saddlebag with her clothes to take inside.

  “You didn’t tell us you were coming,” Dominyk said as he led them across the courtyard to the big house.

  “Didn’t have time,” Sonya said. “Orders came and we were off. You know how it is.”

  “Actually I don’t,” Dominyk said with a chuckle. “But that’s all right. You’re here now.”

  The moment they set foot inside the front door, he shouted, “Father, Adryena, Helga, you’ll never guess who’s here.”

  In the first moments inside the warm, familiar house, Sonya wondered why she’d ever gone. Her father and sister hugged and cried over her, then led her to the best seat at the table, nearest the fire. The large kitchen smelled of coffee and baked goods.

  “It’s good to be home,” Sonya said, and meant it.

  Everyone else took places around the table, Adryena fussing over Irena as if she were another little sister.

  Dominyk introduced his wife Helga, a delicate, pretty blond, who seemed to flush easily. Sonya had always hoped Dominyk would follow her into the cavalry. That had been their plan since childhood, especially after their mother died.

  But Sonya hadn’t been gone long before Adryena wrote that their brother had fallen in love with a girl from a neighboring village.

  Tiny thing, Adryena had written, disapproval oozing from the page. She won’t be much good on the farm. With any luck I can teach her to cook properly. Otherwise I don’t see the point.

  Sonya had smiled at her sister’s indignation, then sighed, resigned to the fact her brother wouldn’t join her after all.

  “How are you, Father?” Sonya asked, once Helga had poured coffee for everyone and Adryena had placed enormous platters of cake on the long table.

  “Better, now you’re here,” her father said, with a smile.

  Konrad Torner was a broad, healthy-looking man, with dark hair turning gray over a weathered face. He looked like he’d become even broader since Sonya had gone, and no wonder, judging by the quantity of butter that must have gone into the cake. Sonya nearly swooned at her first bite.

  “Of course, you’ll stay in Terragand now,” her father said, in that stubborn tone he used whenever they discussed Sonya’s plans.

  Sonya, feeling seventeen again, couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes. “I can’t, Father. I’m sorry. Count Faris has sent me on a mission, and once it’s complete, I’ll be off on another job.”

  So far, she’d been able to ignore the fact that she didn’t know what she’d be doing next. Her employment opportunities were significantly constrained with Teodora wanting her dead.

  “I don’t understand.” Her father drew his brows together, same as always. “Such a nice farm we have, with a place for you always, even if you never find a man. And if you find one, well, there’s a place for him too, if he wants it.”

  “Oh, she’s already found a man,” Irena said loudly, flicking a crumb across the table.

  Sonya growled as the rest of her family turned toward Irena, all eyes wide.

  “It’s about time,” Adryena the committed spinster said. “When can we meet him?” And she looked around, as if expecting a man to come through the door that moment.

  “No idea,” Sonya said. “Because he’s really not mine.” Unfortunately.

  “I don’t agree,” Irena said with a wide grin. “He seemed very much yours, last time I saw you together.”

  “Well.” Sonya took a long drink of coffee to hide her burning face. “Let’s just say we have no formal commitment. I doubt he’ll make it to Terragand before I leave.”

  “Why should you leave?” Her father wouldn’t let it go. “Farming is so much nicer than riding around in all kinds of weather, getting shot at. You’re just like your mother. She loved that life too. It was all I could do to get her to settle down here.”

  “I don’t think my, erm, friend wants to farm. He is—was—a captain in the Imperial Cuirassiers.”

  “Huh. That sounds very fine,” Konrad said with a sniff. “But just wait until he sees this place, feels the soil, sees that we grow the biggest potatoes this side of the Velta River. I’m sure he’ll want to settle down. I’ll even give him a quarter share just for keeping you here.”

  “This is very nice,” Irena said, with a not-quite apologetic glance at Sonya. “From what Lieutenant Vidmar told me, I pictured a little hut sitting on a potato field, not a nice spread like this, so tidy and prosperous.”

  Konrad looked pleased at the compliment to his farm, but then he turned to Sonya, his eyes sad. “So you’re using your mother’s name?”

  “Yes.” Sonya had hoped Adryena had already told him. “It’s the custom in the military to take the name of the soldier parent, if you had one.”

  “I see.” Konrad shook his head. “I suppose your mother’s people liked that.”

  “They didn’t say. I spent little time with them. Once they had me outfitted, I was off to work.”

  “So they didn’t mind a slip of a girl going off to war and getting herself killed?”

  “They thought it an honor, Father,” Sonya said as gently as she could. This was an old argument, but it seemed her father wouldn’t let it go. “They were sad that Mother was gone, but pleased I wanted to follow in her footsteps, so they took care of everything for me with the Orician cavalry. They were kind.”

  Kind wasn’t the right word to describe Sonya’s dark and stern aunts and uncles, but it was one her father understood.

  “Now,” she said, attempting to change the subject. “Why don’t you give me another slice of that marvelous cake—the one with the hazelnuts—then tell me all your news? Adryena has been keeping me up on everything, but I’m sure at least a few things have changed in the past few months.”

  “Oh!” Adryena threw her hands in the air. “You wouldn’t believe the goings-on out at Birkenhof. It’s been very e
xciting.”

  “Birkenhof?” Sonya hoped she sounded puzzled at the reference to the prince’s palace. “Has something else happened to that poor, unfortunate family?”

  “It certainly has.” Adryena drew herself up, thrusting out her capacious bosom, and patting her dark braids, pinned over the top of her head. “The little prince has been behaving very, very badly.”

  “Which prince? Lukan, is it?” Sonya hoped she was convincingly affecting ignorance.

  “No, Kendryk,” Adryena said. “Lukan’s been dead for years. No, this one’s a right pipsqueak, not a day over fourteen, but much too sure of himself, as they always are.”

  “So, what’s he done?” Sonya leaned back, prepared for a long stay in the kitchen while Adryena spun her tale.

  “He’s tried to get Sanova to annex Terragand.” Adryena leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Seems he made a secret treaty with Queen Ottilya, offering her the country in exchange for letting him be in charge of part of it.”

  “That makes no sense.” Sonya didn’t want to give anything away, but she felt bad for poor Prince Kendryk, being slandered by her sister like this. “He’ll come into his majority in just a few years. Why would he throw it all away?”

  “Because he hates Duke Desmond Balkunus,” Adryena whispered. “The duke has been running things. The prince’s mother has never recovered from her husband and son’s death, and the other regent is abroad. So the duke has been taking care of matters.”

  “Has he mishandled anything?”

  “Not that anyone can tell. Things seem to carry on the same as always.”

  “So why would the prince try something so foolish?”

  “It’s the family curse.” Adryena shivered, then took a sip of coffee, as if she needed to warm herself. “Since Prince Edwyn came to power, things haven’t been right at Birkenhof. You can see the gods have cursed them.

  “First, they took the heir in that freak accident, then Edwyn himself for no reason at all. And then the poor princess, unable to speak or walk. Rumor says young Kendryk is feeble-minded, which is why they sent him abroad. But once Lukan died, they had no choice but to bring him back.”

  “So, that’s your theory?” Sonya knew her sister well enough to tell when she was speculating. Wildly, as it often turned out.

  “Hmph.” Adryena sniffed. “Anyone with a brain can figure out that things have gone wrong there.”

  “Of course,” Sonya said, not wanting to start a fight, especially about this. “But if young Prince Kendryk is feeble-minded, who made the secret treaty with Sanova?”

  “Doesn’t sound feeble-minded to me,” Irena put in. Sonya shot her a look and she quieted.

  “I’m sure he had help in the palace,” Adryena said, clearly making it up as she went. “He was bound to be influenced by priests and tutors and such.”

  “No doubt,” Sonya said. “So what’s happened to this treasonous prince?”

  “No one is sure,” Adryena said, “but I’m certain he’s locked up in Birkenfels castle. It’s quite secure,” she added, with the air of knowing the place well, though she’d only ever seen it at a distance.

  Birkenfels was the ancient seat of the Bernotas family, and the princes had always lived there until two generations ago, when Kendryk’s grandfather had built the palace of Birkenhof.

  “Makes sense,” Sonya said, wondering if there was any truth to that. It would be an easy place to keep a captive. Would the duke dare such a thing?

  It was as Sonya had feared. If the prince was in trouble, his opponents had turned the public against him. Then she remembered something else.

  “I heard this in Novuk,” she said, “but it seemed too strange. There was talk of a renegade prince raising an army in the Terragand countryside. I couldn’t think what the fellow was talking about and reckoned he must be drunk.”

  “No,” Adryena said emphatically. “I would have heard if the prince was out recruiting. I have excellent sources.”

  Sonya decided the miller’s wife was probably as good a source of information as any. With Adryena’s endless need for flour, much of her time off the farm was spent engaged in conversation at the mill.

  “I know you do.” She smiled at her sister. “Now, tell me what else is going on around here. Any untimely deaths? Anyone get married in an unseemly hurry?”

  “Someone always does,” Adryena said darkly. “I don’t understand. Men are such trouble. Even Father and Dominyk, if I don’t keep an eye on them.”

  “Hey,” both men said indignant, though too good-natured to do much more than that.

  “I’ll side with my sister on that one,” Sonya said, making it clear she was teasing. Though her father liked to needle her, he was a good man, and knowing how things were here, he likely gave Adryena little trouble, aside from eating too much of her food.

  She knew better than to ask if her sister was seeing anyone. Men took one look at the handsome, formidable Adryena and give her a wide berth. Andrei would know how to handle her, Sonya thought, missing him with a sudden pang.

  Well, she’d have plenty to distract herself from those thoughts, since she was still far from getting at the truth of the situation here.

  That also meant cutting short her stay at the farm. A part of her had hoped she’d hear that the stories about Prince Kendryk had been only rumors and that he was living happily at the palace, in perfect harmony with the duke. That was not the case, apparently, so Sonya would have to go elsewhere for information.

  She decided to wait to tell everyone she was cutting her visit short until after supper. They were so happy to see her, she might as well let it last longer. She wanted it to last longer. But supper came and went, and she couldn’t bring it up.

  “They’re nice,” Irena said, as they went back to Sonya’s old room. “And this house is wonderful and cozy. Why did you leave? And why did you always make it sound so awful?”

  “It is nice,” Sonya agreed, running her hand along the smooth wood of the banister as they climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. “And they’re nice, you’re right. But I’ve never belonged here, not the way the others do. And if I’m here more than a few days, we’ll get on each other’s nerves.”

  “Oh, I can see that,” Irena said. “Still I wish we could stay a few more days.”

  “Me too,” Sonya said, “but we can’t. We need to go see that duke tomorrow.”

  Birkenhof Palace

  Sonya was tired. Irena had kept her up half the night, arguing against her plan in a furious whisper.

  “You have no sense of danger,” she’d told Sonya. “Ever since you stood there in front of the archduchess while she condemned you to death, you’ve lost all perspective.”

  “Might be.” Sonya frowned. “It’s true, a mean duke doesn’t frighten me at all. What’s he going to do to us for asking a few questions?”

  “What makes you think he’ll see you?” Irena shook her head, but Sonya saw she’d worn her down.

  “I don’t know he will, but I’ve got to try. Just let me do the talking, all right?”

  “No problem. I’ll pretend to be your bodyguard.”

  “You are my bodyguard,” Sonya said with a grin, “now let me get some sleep.”

  The next morning, her family didn’t take her announcement that she was leaving well. Faced with Adryena’s angry tears, Dominyk’s sad eyes and her father’s disappointed frown, Sonya was glad she’d left it to the last minute. If she’d brought it up the night before, they wouldn’t have let her sleep either.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’ve thought about it, and it makes more sense for me to get my work in Heidenhof done as soon as I can. After that, I’ll spend a few days with you, I promise.”

  She mounted Zeki and looked down at them, hoping things turned out well so she wouldn’t have to leave Terragand in a big hurry.

  Birkenhof was only a two-hour ride from the Torner farm, so they arrived at the palace by mid-morning. The guards at the gate let them pass when Sonya s
aid she had business with Duke Desmond. They rode down a long, tree-lined road and passed through another gate before reaching the courtyard. Sonya threw Zeki’s reins at the groom with a haughty air as she dismounted.

  “Take care of these horses,” she snapped. “I’ll be back.”

  She walked up to the main entrance with long strides, though the palace’s enormous facade was intimidating. Still, she couldn’t show it.

  Two guards holding sharp, shiny halberds stood at the door.

  “Message for Duke Desmond,” Sonya said, holding out a folded sheet of paper.

  The guard looked her over a little too carefully. “Who’s it from?”

  Sonya rolled the dice. “General Count Faris.”

  The guard’s eyes lit up with recognition. “I’ll ask,” he said. “Wait here.” He left Sonya and Irena with the other guard while he disappeared inside.

  Sonya ignored the guard, acting as if she were too good for him, which she probably wasn’t.

  Irena stood on the steps, her arms crossed, a fierce glower on her face. When she looked like that, no one ever seemed to notice her small size. Sonya hoped she could keep up the illusion in front of the duke.

  The guard returned. “He’ll see you,” he said, and led them inside.

  They walked down a long, gloomy corridor, hung with endless rows of big paintings. Sonya wondered if all of those were Bernotas ancestors. They had ruled Terragand for a long time. Was the duke trying to change that? Coups among the Kronland rulers were unusual, and they rarely came from outside the family.

  The guard stopped in front of a closed door and made a move to hold Irena back.

  Sonya shook her head. “She must come with me. She carries an important part of the message.”

  That was nonsense, but Sonya wouldn’t leave Irena alone out here. There were many guards, which seemed odd, considering how peaceful everything was outside the palace.

  The guard shrugged, stepped aside, and Sonya and Irena walked into the room. After the gloom of the corridor, its light dazzled. Sonya squinted against the sunlight breaking through the fog hanging over the garden, streaming through the tall windows and across a long, shiny table.