Daric’s arms were around her in a second. “I’ve watched you grow from the time you were little. I remember when you were born. I was seven years old and my mother made me take a gift.” He laughed. “Not highest on the list of things a boy my age wanted to do. As you grew up, I noticed you. So quiet, so apart from the other girls. But I could see then what I see now: You are brave and strong and beautiful.”
She wasn’t brave or strong, not now. Instead, she’d shut herself in her room, hoping to avoid Kern.
“You were the first person to befriend Adare, to see her inner beauty and kindness. That act alone means more to me than you’ll ever know. And then you risked your life to save my son.”
He took her face between his hands, apparently not caring about the tears she couldn’t hold back. “Maren, you are part of my family. Not by blood, but by something more. I can never repay you for what you’ve done. I can only thank you. I am a king. I have to be strong for the people. That doesn’t mean I always am. I worry. I doubt. But some things I am sure of. One of them is love.” He paused and gave her a sad smile before his arms encircled her again. “I love you, Maren. Not like I love Adare, but love still the same. If there’s anything I can do, I beg you to let me do it.”
It wasn’t fair. Daric couldn’t die. She couldn’t help it happen, or even sit back and let it happen. There must be a way to stop Kern. He must have some weakness. And in that moment, she vowed to fight, to do everything she could to save Daric. She would deal with the pain Kern inflicted. She would find a way to stop him. She would save Adare, Philip, and Daric. She would—
Warmth spread through her shoulder, just as it had the day at the lake, and then the pain was gone. Her body sagged in relief but also surprise. She’d used Kern’s magic again. She still didn’t know how, but maybe she’d found a way to keep the pain at bay.
She pulled out of Daric’s arms. “I love you too, Daric. Everything is going to be all right.”
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Maybe. Eventually. For now, we just have to muddle through.” He stood and walked to the door.
Possibilities swam through her head. Maybe if she could make it through whatever tortures Kern had planned, she could use his magic to push back enough that she could fight for a solution where no one but Kern had to die. But she had to be careful. Kern had sensed the use of his magic before. And she still didn’t know what made her draw on it. She’d just have to figure it out.
She almost felt hopeful, until Kern walked into the room – alone. He took one look at her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and his face turned to stone.
“What did you tell Daric?”
Fear began to take hold, but she pushed it back. “Nothing. We were just talking about the past.”
He stared at her as if his glance alone could force the truth from her. It probably could.
“You’d better not be lying to me.” He stepped in her direction and the pain began again.
She gasped as it progressed through her body. “I’m not. I promise.”
He crossed to stand by the side of her bed and the pain exploded.
Losing her newfound strength, she tried to think of Daric. She tried to focus on defeating Kern, but nothing worked. “Please,” she cried. “I didn’t say anything.”
He ran a finger along her cheek and the pain subsided. “I believe you.” Then he took the seat just vacated by Daric.
She turned her back to him and buried her face in her hands.
Sixteen
Kern was rarely far away, and he never allowed her to forget the power he had over her. She’d tried to fight, to avoid him, but paid for it in ways that left her on the floor gasping for breath. So she did what he wanted, and it was bearable. At least as far as the physical pain went. The emotional pain was another story.
Philip was angry. He’d tried to talk to her so many times she’d lost count, and every time she evaded it with pathetic excuses because Kern was right there, watching. And what Kern had predicted was coming true with horrible accuracy. She did seek him out when the pain got too bad. She did push Philip away. People began to whisper behind her back. Worst of all, Philip had noticed. She couldn’t bear to see the misery in his eyes, but it was the only way – at least right now.
She was going to find a way to stop Kern. Even if she had to pretend to be his puppet.
She just had no idea what it was. She’d already spent all her spare time during the siege looking. And had come up empty. She needed help. Only no one would believe her.
And time would eventually run out.
Already, Kern had integrated himself into Daric’s inner circle. He knew everything about the events in the kingdom, even planned half of them. Daric consulted him on important decisions. There was nothing Kern wasn’t privy to, no secrets, nothing preventing him from being where Daric was at any given time or giving him every opportunity to strike when the time was right.
It did, however, give her a few precious moments alone.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, tossing aside another book that hadn’t give her answers. Kern had left an hour earlier to ride with Daric, and she’d retreated to her father’s study, just like she did everyday during their ride. In another hour he’d be back and he’d find her and everything would start all over again. But for now she was alone.
“Maren?”
Her head snapped around and she jumped to her feet. Too quickly. She swayed for a second before grabbing the back of her chair for support.
“I’m sorry I startled you.” Philip took another step into the room and paused, as if he were unsure of how to proceed. “Could we talk?”
Her eyes shifted to the open door, to Philip, and then back again. She didn’t know what to do. Maybe this was the answer she was looking for. Kern was gone – at least for now. But if he found out… She swallowed hard. It would be worth it if she could convince Philip of the truth. Even if Kern killed her, someone else would know.
“Shut the door.”
He did as she asked before walking over to take the chair opposite hers. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, head bowed.
Finally he raised his face to hers. “I want to know what’s wrong. Not that you’re dying. I already know that. I want to know what else is going on.”
She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to know the truth, to trust her, to help her find some way to defeat Kern. But he was under a spell, and she didn’t have the ring to show him the truth. Maybe, because he cared about her, he could overcome the spell. But fear still made her hesitate.
“Please, Maren,” he begged and reached for her hand. “Three weeks ago you told me you were afraid. I could see it in your eyes. You said you were going to tell me the truth.” He ran a hand over his face. “You kissed me. Then you collapsed and nothing’s been the same since.”
There was so much pain in his voice she couldn’t hold back a tear that ran down the side of her cheek.
He reached up and wiped it away. “I want to know what happened. If you choose him, that’s…fine. He cares about you. But I think I deserve an explanation.”
Fear rushed through her even stronger. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t bear Kern’s punishment if he found out. “Philip, I…I’m sorry.” She managed to get to her feet, needing to get away from him before Kern came back. She took a few shaky steps towards the door and then stumbled over a book lying on the floor.
Philip’s arm was around her in a second, holding her fast, and she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. They covered her cheeks and blinded her vision until she had no choice but to let Philip hold her. For the first time in weeks she felt almost safe.
A few minutes later, he led her back to a chair and resumed his previous seat. “I want to know why you’re getting weaker, why you’re a ghost of your former self. I want to know why your eyes are sunken, why you jump at the smallest sound.”
She hadn’t realized he’d no
ticed so much. Or that there was so much to notice.
“And don’t tell me it’s just because you’re dying,” he continued. “I know there’s something else. You’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.” He took her hands again. “Maren, let me help you. If not me, then let Daric or Adare help you. It’s time for the truth. Whatever the truth is.”
She hesitated. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You think I care?” He threw his hands in the air. “I’ve been in danger before. And if whatever you’re hiding puts people in danger, then you’re already in danger. Tell me,” he insisted. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”
It was probably worse, but he was here, offering the help she’d desperately wanted. So she took a deep breath and started with the part that concerned him the most. “Daric is in danger. Someone is going to try to kill him and take over the kingdom.”
Philip’s mouth hardened into a line. “Who?”
“I can’t—” She buried her face in her hands. “He’ll hurt the people I care about if I say anything.”
“Daric?” Philip asked and Maren nodded. “Who else?”
“Adare.”
“I can keep Adare safe. But if I also need to keep Daric safe, you need to tell me everything you know.”
“Your—” No, that would be too much to throw at him. She wouldn’t have believed it herself if she hadn’t seen Kern with her own eyes. And Philip thought he’d already killed his father. “Lord Teige isn’t who he pretends to be.”
His eyes went wide, and then his expression hardened. “You’re blaming this on Teige?” He laughed, a cruel bark that made her hope fade. “You’re not serious? You’re playing some kind of malicious joke, toying with my emotions?”
“No.” She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “I would never do that. Teige wants Daric dead.”
He pulled his hand away. “You do realize you’re accusing the man who is growing to love you, who you seem to care about, of treason?”
“I don’t care about him. He’s forcing me to be with him. He’s hurting me.”
Anger flashed across his face, but it soon turned to pity. “Maren, I know Teige as well as anyone. He’s not cruel. And he’s not a traitor.”
“But you don’t know him,” she cried, knowing he wouldn’t believe her, that he was under the same spell as everyone else. “It’s all a façade. There is no Lord Teige. He’s really—”
“I don’t want to hear any more of this,” he said. “Teige is my best friend. He helped save Tredare. Why would he do that if he wanted to kill the king?”
“To gain your trust. To make it easier for him to get close to Daric.”
He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. When he opened them again, all she saw was emptiness, regret, maybe even heartache. As if he’d lost something dear to him and knew he could never have it back. “Maren, I think that injury has done more harm than you know. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re imagining things that aren’t there. Your fears aren’t real.”
“No.” She was close to hysteria now. “I’m not imagining it. Please, Philip, you have to believe me. You have to trust me.”
“I want to trust you, but you’re not yourself. I have to trust what I know, and I know Teige.”
He dropped her hands and walked to the door, letting it silently shut behind him.
She stared in despair. Her one hope – to convince Philip of the truth and enlist his help – was gone. She was alone, without strength, without hope, and dying.
“That wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve ever made.”
She spun around. Kern stood there, a look on his face that could have turned her heart to ice. How much had he heard? How had he even gotten in the room when the only door was behind her?
She backed away but didn’t get far before she couldn’t move through the pain, and she fell to her knees.
“So Philip didn’t believe the truth?” His cruel laugh pierced her. “I’ve played my part too well. And you’ve played yours.”
Which she already knew.
“But we had an agreement, Maren. You didn’t tell anyone, and I didn’t hurt Adare. You broke that agreement.”
She pushed herself off the floor. “Please, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything.”
An evil gleam entered his eye. “All right. I won’t hurt Adare. But you deserve some kind of punishment, and there’s something I’ve wanted to try for a while now.”
She braced for the pain, but it didn’t come in the way she expected. Instead of the searing heat or the deep ache, her back arched as if something had hit her with enough force to knock her off her feet. Then it was gone. For a second, she thought that was going to be it, but then she felt a strange sensation. It was as if whatever hit her had pierced her skin and was now working its way up her spine. And although it wasn’t painful, it was horrible in its own right.
It felt like hundreds of spiders were crawling up her back. She reached around with her hand, but there was nothing there. She stood still until she couldn’t bear it anymore and then twisted, trying to get it off, to get it out. Nothing worked and the tingling continued higher, past her waist, her shoulder blades, her shoulders, and up the back of her neck. For a brief second, it paused and Kern smiled. She knew that whatever was coming, it’s what he’d been waiting for, and it would be horrible.
The tendrils of magic began to move again. Only this time they didn’t move up, they moved in, invading her brain, weaving their way through until she thought she might go mad. She could feel her control being taken as the tendrils brushed against her memories and everything that made her who she was.
She stumbled across the floor and grabbed Kern’s tunic with both hands. “Please, don’t. I’m doing what you want. I won’t say another word to anyone. Please.”
She felt the slightest pressure in her head and then didn’t know what she was saying anymore, what she was begging for. She barely remembered who she was. She spun around, searching for something familiar, something that would tell her what was going on, why it felt like the world was closing in on her, but everything was getting dark. She kept searching – until she saw Kern through the haze.
And then she remembered one thing: Kern was hurting her.
She backed away, her arms held out in front of her, until she was against the wall with nowhere else to go. Kern watched her with curiosity, but he didn’t move. Then his eyes met hers. There was another pulse of pressure in her head, and the next moment, what little of the room she could still see swam before her eyes. Her body pitched forward and hit the floor, causing every part of her to scream with pain. She knew she’d felt that pain before and that Kern was the cause.
She tried to lift her head but was too dizzy. Instead, she curled into a ball and closed her eyes, wishing she knew what was happening.
“Had enough?”
His voice, uncomfortably familiar, brought fear for reasons she didn’t fully recognize. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“I’ve taken the last thing you could call your own, your free will, your memories of who you are.” He pulled her to her feet where she swayed again, but this time he held her steady.
“Why?” Her voice was barely audible.
“Because we had a deal and you broke it.” He shrugged. “And because I wanted to see if I could.”
She gasped as more pressure coursed through her head, only this time it receded, and she was no longer dizzy. Her head throbbed, but it was distant and more uncomfortable than painful. And then the memories flooded back. They were clear and real – except for the past few minutes. For she remembered that too. Only it was hazy, as if she were someone watching from the outside. But as the reality of what had happened sank in, she was horrified. Her eyes flew open but the world looked different. It wasn’t as dark as it had been a few minutes ago, but it was blurry, like peering through a dirty window. Kern stared down at her, waiting. Realizing she was still in his arms, she struggled to break free, finally fal
ling to a heap on the floor.
“Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this.” If she’d felt like she was losing herself before, now she felt as if she was already lost. Kern would control her completely. She wouldn’t even have the ability to think, to care, to feel… “Please.” She didn’t have a shred of pride left. She would beg. She would do anything. “Kill me. I’m dying anyway.”
He just laughed. “That would be too easy. Besides, I think you’re going to be even more useful than I imagined.”
The magic shot up her back again, and she grabbed her head with her hands. “No, no, no, no, no…” She didn’t understand the tears on her cheeks. She didn’t understand why she was lying on the floor. She didn’t understand—
“Maren.”
A man stood a few feet away. Kern. She didn’t like Kern. He hurt her.
“Maren, come over here.”
Something inside her rebelled, but it wasn’t strong enough to drown out his commands. She climbed to her feet, ignoring the pain that made her movements agony, and crossed the small space between them.
“Good girl.” He straightened his tunic, and walked to the door. He opened it and glanced back.
There was a strange sensation in her head and then…
“No,” she cried in horror as she realized what had just happened – again.
“Yes, Maren. You’re mine now.”
The door shut behind him and she was left alone. She couldn’t even find the energy to cry. She just sat there and let despair wash over her.
* * *
When she finally left her father’s study, it was dark. Which didn’t really matter. Everything was dark now, and not just figuratively. The feeling of looking through haze hadn’t left. It was probably permanent, just like the pain that never receded once it took hold.
She crept along the hall to her room, frequently stopping to find her balance. Twice now, she’d tripped over the edge of a rug. As she stumbled a third time, she reached for a nearby table and knocked a vase to the floor. It shattered and the sound reverberated off the marble walls. She heard someone behind her and tried to hurry. Her room was only a few doors away.
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