But then, there were things she hadn’t told him either. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for the truth. If he wasn’t under the spell, he might believe her, even be able to help her.
She looked at him, really looked at him. He had shadows under his eyes, and his forehead was creased with worry. Not just for the kingdom. For her.
“All right,” she whispered and let him guide her over to the sofa.
He sat next to her and took her hands.
“No,” she pulled away. “Not like this. You have to give me some space. And please don’t interrupt until I’m done. It’s going to be hard enough as it is.”
He moved to a chair further away and waited, his gaze burning into her.
She couldn’t return it, couldn’t face him and say what had to be said. It was too horrible.
He wanted the truth. And that’s exactly what she gave him. She told him about her shoulder getting worse the first time Teige took her hand, about how a part of Kern’s magic was still inside her. She told him about the ring and what she saw, and who Teige really was. At which point he gasped and tried to interrupt, but she held out a hand to stop him. She told him about that first day in the garden when Kern confronted her. She told him about the pain, the torture, the manipulation, about how Kern was going to murder Daric. She told him everything. Well, almost everything. The part where Kern almost killed her after she’d talked to Philip the first time she left out. He was going to be upset enough as it was.
“The only good thing is that I’ve found a way to access the magic in my shoulder,” she ended. “I can use it to take away the pain – as long as Kern isn’t close enough to sense it.”
She still didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see his disgust at what she’d done, at how she’d given in to Kern. She didn’t want to see the disbelief she was certain was in his eyes. So she waited. But he didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. Desperate for his reaction, she finally dared to look.
He sat with his head in his hands, his only movement the slight rise and fall of his back.
“Philip?”
Nothing.
“Philip, please say something. Anything. Look at me. Tell me you believe me. Tell me you don’t. Are you even listening?”
His hands dropped, and he slowly raised his head until their eyes met. She could only stare in surprise as a single tear traced a line down the side of his face. But that wasn’t the tone of his body language. He was tense, his hands now clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“I didn’t believe you.” He sounded lost. “You tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I could have prevented it. I could have stopped Kern before he had the chance to hurt you anymore.”
Relief rushed through her. No matter what happened now, at least Philip knew the truth. Somehow, that relieved her of a weight she hadn’t realized she carried. Maybe everything could still be all right. If they could find a way to stop Kern. Together.
She smiled up at him, but it faded quickly at his despair. His eyes burned with pain, and sorrow, and misplaced guilt. Not to mention what he’d just heard about his father.
She slid her arms around his neck, and he pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going to stop him,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”
“No, we’re going to stop him. I just have no idea how.”
“I don’t understand how he did it,” Philip said after a long silence. “I saw him die. Teige, at least the man I thought was Teige, was standing right next to me.” He paused. “That means whoever I killed was innocent, trapped under Kern’s control.”
“No!” she cried, pushing herself out of his embrace, her mind racing back three years to the night when Kern’s men almost— “None of Kern’s men were innocent. None of them.”
He grabbed her arms. “What do you mean?” he growled. “How do you know whether they were innocent or not?”
“I…I…” She shivered. “I was in their camp the night the siege started. I’d just gotten back from meeting with the monarchs and snuck in to see if I could discover anything.”
“And?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. “And some of the men confused me for one of the women of the camp.” His hands tightened on her arms, and she rushed ahead before he could say anything. “Nothing happened. I escaped before…”
He groaned and pulled her close again. “I’m sorry. I should have been there.”
“Philip, we have to forget what happened in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve finally found a way to protect myself, to fight him. As long as I can still pretend the rest of the time that Kern still has total control over me, maybe I can do something to stop him. And now that you know, and have magic, you can help me.”
“No.”
“But—”
“No,” he said again, firmer this time. “No magic.”
“Then we’re going to have to kill him. He’s not going to stop any other way.”
“And how are we supposed to kill the most powerful mage who’s ever lived?”
“I don’t know yet, but there is someone who might be able to help.” She told him about Halef and his agreement to discover anything he could about the mages who’d trapped Kern the last time.
“All right,” he said slowly. “So we wait for Halef. And in the meantime?”
“We have to pretend this conversation never happened. You still have to be his friend. You have to hate me. The more convincing you can be, the better, because that’s what Kern wants. He thinks it will change you, make you feel betrayed and realize power is the only thing that matters. Flirt with as many ladies as you can. Shun me.”
“Maren, I can’t. I can’t leave you to face Kern alone.”
“You have to. If you don’t, if Kern suspects something, he’ll take everything from me.” Her voice broke. “I can’t go through that again.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Softly, like she was something fragile. “Can you really take away your pain? Can you do this without living in torture? Because I can’t watch that.”
She nodded. “There will still be moments I have to endure it, when Kern’s around and would sense his magic. Those times, you’ll have to keep quiet and know it’s temporary. But the rest of the time? Yes, I can do it.”
“Okay,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll pretend.”
Twenty-four
Maren sidestepped another group of people gathered around a grocer’s stand and worked her way further up the street.
It was harvest celebration. The entire city had gathered, bringing their crops with them. There was music and dancing, and Daric always came. He intermingled with his people, he toasted the farmers, and then he stayed for some of the festivities. It was one of the most anticipated nights of the year.
“Maren, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Adare grabbed her by the hand. “Daric is ready to begin.”
She followed Adare to the center of the marketplace. It was crowded with people and carts and food. Music drifted from groups gathered around small fires. The delicious smells of cooking meat and potatoes permeated the air. Maren had to remind herself that none of it was real, and that if Kern had his way, the people wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy their ignorance much longer.
Adare wove her way between the groups, addressing some, commenting on the music to others, until they finally climbed onto a wooden platform where Daric stood with Philip and Kern. Kern looked like he always did, confident and charming. Philip stood a little farther away than he would have a few days ago.
“Teige.” Maren held her hands out to him as if she needed him to take away the pain.
His magic threaded through her, and she pretended to sigh in relief.
“I’m so glad you felt well enough to come,” he said. “Tonight is going to be spectacular. I have a surprise I think you’ll enjoy.”
She tensed, knowing from experience that Ke
rn’s surprises weren’t good.
“Welcome!” Daric had begun his speech, and the pretense had to continue.
When the toasts started, she raised her glass mechanically with everyone else.
“And now I’ve had a special request. Lord Teige has his own toast to make.”
A toast?
“I want to thank the king for letting me speak tonight,” Kern began. “It’s especially gracious of him since I wouldn’t tell him what I was going to say.”
He looked down at her, and his face was full of tenderness, even if it was all just an act. Then he reached out and took her other hand.
She feared she was too late, that whatever happened at this moment would be something she couldn’t recover from.
“Today is the best day of my life.” He smiled and the crowd smiled with him. They wanted to know what he had to say. They waited for it. “I would like to announce that Lady Maren has agreed to become my wife.”
The crowd exploded in applause and cheers.
Maren stood like a statue. She had agreed to marry him – in those moments after he released her, when she’d have done anything for sanity. But having to stand in front of the entire city, Daric and Adare, and Philip…well, that was something she hadn’t anticipated.
But she couldn’t say no. The consequences were too terrifying. She would accept the multitude of congratulations and pretend she was truly happy.
Kern smiled at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He probably did. And when the crowd died down, he picked up a glass. “To Lady Maren, the future Lady Teige, and the woman I will make my wife.”
“Lady Maren,” the crowd called, almost in unison.
He drank along with everyone else and then set his glass down and slipped an arm around her waste. Then his lips were a whisper away. “Make it believable, Maren.”
Everything in her wanted to push him away. Instead, she reached her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The crowd cheered. Kern laughed and slipped his hand into hers. But all she could think about was Philip. She glanced over and their eyes met. His glass wasn’t raised. He wasn’t smiling. He just stood there, frozen. Then his brows drew together, and he pressed his lips into a thin line before disappearing into the crowd.
“Didn’t you like Philip’s reaction?” Kern whispered beside her. “After all, it’s what you’ve been working for. He hates you. He won’t try again.”
Philip didn’t hate her, but he wasn’t happy either. His performance had looked real – too real. She only hoped he truly understood why she’d done what she had.
* * *
The sun had set, but the crowd hadn’t thinned. Which wasn’t surprising, considering there hadn’t been a Harvest Celebration for the past three years. Maren had danced until her feet hurt and eaten until she couldn’t eat anymore. And all the time, Kern had kept her pain away. She hadn’t had to spend a night in agony – at least because of her injury.
She hadn’t seen Philip since he’d turned his back on her after Teige’s announcement.
Suddenly, she was tired, deep down tired, as if every particle of her body was just…weary.
Kern stood a few feet away. He hadn’t let her out of his sight all night. She moved towards him.
“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m going back.”
His eyes bore into her, gauging whether she was telling the truth.
“All right,” he said, and then brought her hand to his lips.
She tried to repress a shudder but wasn’t sure she succeeded. Either way, he didn’t react.
“You did well today, Maren. Philip was as angry as I’ve ever seen him. We’re engaged. You even seemed to enjoy the evening.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
He smiled, that sinister smile, where the corners of his mouth widened but didn’t really raise, and the ache in her shoulder flared. “I didn’t, did I?”
She turned and walked away without a word. He thought she was completely under his control. He was even letting her walk back to the castle without him. She’d played her part well. Philip had played his.
Now they just had to find a way to save the kingdom.
* * *
By the time she got to the castle, her shoulder was burning. She closed her bedroom door and leaned back against it, murmuring the spell that would lessen the pain. It worked immediately, but she also felt the downside – as if she was an hourglass tipped on its side until she used the magic, and then she was righted again and a little bit more of the sand fell through. Still, she sighed in relief and opened her eyes to find Philip standing by the window where anyone could look up and see him.
“What are you doing here?”
He must have heard her come in, but he only turned around when she spoke, her words sounding angrier than she’d intended.
“Don’t worry. No one saw me come in.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Standing right in front of the window kind of negates that.”
For a moment he looked surprised, as if being seen hadn’t even crossed his mind. Then a frown creased his brow and he moved away from the window.
“Why are you here, Philip?” Her weariness seeped into her words. “Do you realize what would happen if Kern knew?”
“I had to see you.” His voice was tight, controlled. “After today…” He scowled. “How can you do it? How can you stand there and accept the congratulations and smile? How can you kiss him?”
“How can I not?” she cried, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s the only way he truly relieves the pain. Do you actually understand the hold he has over me?”
“Yes, but pretending is one thing. Him kissing you is—” He seemed to struggle for control. “He’s my father!”
“You think I don’t know that! That it doesn’t disgust me as much as you. Believe me, it does. More. But I. Don’t. Have. A. Choice. Not until we find a way to stop him. And your anger only proves he’s winning.”
They stood across from each other, each breathing hard, each with angry lines etched into their faces, and then Philip’s shoulder’s fell. Two strides later, she was tucked into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her hair, his breath tingling against her forehead. “None of this is your fault. I’m just so jealous I can hardly think straight. And he’s—”
She knew he couldn’t finish, couldn’t imagine her kissing his father again. She tilted her face up until she could see his. “We are going to find a way out of this. We have to.”
A smile touched the corners of his mouth and then softened. His hand moved to her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. Then everything went still.
A second later, he kissed her. It started soft and tender and full of heartache and everything they’d lost. Then he pulled her closer, until she wondered if she’d ever breathe again. It didn’t matter. If she was dying anyway, this was the perfect way to go. Then, suddenly, his head jerked up and he cocked his head to the side, listening.
“They’re back.”
Something approaching panic seized her, and she rushed to the window. Sure enough, Daric, Kern, and their guard sauntered through the gate, laughing as if they were schoolboys. It was enough to freeze the blood in her veins. And not only because Kern was back and Philip was in her room. The sight of Daric and Kern together was just too terrible, especially when Kern glanced up and saw her, a wicked smile pulling at his lips.
She spun around. “You have to go. Now.”
He only nodded, seeming to understand the danger they were in, before quietly slipping out the door.
Twenty-five
Kern was different after the engagement, as if he’d already won. He gave her more freedom, kept the pain away. He didn’t even taunt her as often. He must have truly felt he had her exactly where he wanted her – and that she was too terrified to disobey him.
It helped that Philip was playing his role so completely. He stayed away from her as much as he could. Maren k
new it was partly because of the fear of what Kern might do if he found out. But that wasn’t all of it. He couldn’t bear to see her with Kern.
Which is where she’d just escaped from. From his touch, his torture.
She walked into her room, still shaking, but the sight of Kira, still as a statue across the room, stopped her short. She called her name, but Kira didn’t move, just stood in front of the table, staring down at something Maren couldn’t see.
“Kira!”
Kira spun around, her eyes wide. “Something’s wrong.” Her voice trembled and Maren swallowed her own dread. “There’s magic. Here. In this room.” She pointed to what Maren could now see was a folded piece of paper laying on the table.
Maren leaned closer and saw her own name written across the front. She didn’t recognize the writing or have any idea why Kira thought it was magic. “It’s a letter.”
“No.” Kira reached for it with an unsteady hand. “I saw it earlier and figured I’d bring it to you, but when I tried to take it…” Her hand, which was now only inches from the paper, suddenly shifted to the side. “I couldn’t.”
Maren now understood Kira’s unease. Kern’s actions had tainted everything magic, good or bad. Whether this magic was good or not, Maren didn’t know, but it didn’t feel like something Kern would do. No, this was something else. Maren reached out and felt her fingers slide along the rough parchment.
Kira drew in a sharp breath. “But how did you…you’re not a….”
“No, I’m not a mage. The letter was simply meant for me, and only me.” She tried for a reassuring smile. “Not all magic is bad, Kira. And not all mages are, either.”
She smoothed the letter out on the table. Her eyes flew first to the signature. “Halef.” Then she started from the top.
Maren,
You’re not going to like what I have to say. Of the twelve mages Daric gathered to defeat Kern the first time, four have since died of natural causes. I have been trying to track down the other eight, and every direction I turn, I’m finding the same answer. They’re all dead. All of them. All died mysteriously within two weeks of Kern escaping from that tomb. An act of revenge is my best guess.
Borrowed Magic Page 17
