by S. M. Boyce
Kara spoke first. “Gavin, you’re the one who asked me here. Let’s not just sit in silence.”
He waved her comment away with a lazy hand. “I will explain. I’m simply hunting for the right words.”
Bags lined Gavin’s eyes, and the king’s shoulders slouched a bit. Braeden’s gut twisted. He barely recognized the man he’d grown up with. He couldn’t imagine the stress of being Blood; he certainly didn’t want the responsibility. He glanced at Kara.
Gavin finally took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Kara. I don’t know how you found out about the tiara, but I’m actually glad you did. Please forgive Twin, as she was acting under my orders. I hope that the two of you will remain friends.”
“I do forgive her, but I’m not as certain I’ll forgive you. Where did this sudden remorse come from?” Kara asked.
“I may be the Blood, but I still have a father who freely speaks his mind.”
She nodded, as if that was enough. “Good. I hope he chewed your head off.”
Gavin nodded. “He did. I’ve tried so desperately to keep you with us. I wanted Hillside to be your home because it’s the safest place for you to be.”
“That’s what Frine said when he tried to kidnap me. I barely escaped then, too,” she said.
Gavin turned to face her and narrowed his eyes.
Kara continued. “Starting a war to get revenge on Carden for killing your mother isn’t the right reason to go into this peace treaty, Gavin. It won’t last when it’s over.”
“We all have our own agendas, even you. Don’t act righteous,” he spat.
“Don’t even start. I’m not going to live in Hillside, no matter what you do or say. I’m not a weapon in your arsenal. And if you ever try to control me again, I just won’t help you at all. Are we clear?”
Gavin looked back out the window and let her question settle, unanswered, on the air. Braeden wanted to add something, to drive the point home, but he kept quiet. He hated the fact that Kara kept him at an arm’s reach, but he understood her reasons. Gavin would no doubt interfere if it became clear that Braeden cared for her as more than the Vagabond.
Gavin gestured toward the door. “I would like to speak to my brother, Vagabond. Twin is outside. She will show you to your room.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“You’ve made your point clear enough, Vagabond. I don’t feel that’s necessary.”
Kara hesitated, but turned and caught Braeden’s eye for a moment before she opened the door. Twin stood waiting in the hallway and smiled at Braeden. The door closed.
“I know those maps,” Braeden said when they were alone. He lifted one from the table. It depicted a dark gorge where mists played in the shadows and snow touched everything in sight.
Gavin nodded. “Suspected locations of the Stele, yes.”
“You weren’t even listening to her, were you?”
“Why are you so concerned with the Vagabond, brother?”
“I’m not. I’m worried about you,” he lied. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. Becoming the Blood has changed you.”
Gavin ran his hand along his jaw. “For the better. I see the world a little clearer, now. Braeden, there is more at play than you realize. You have no idea what’s going on, and you must remove yourself from this.”
“It’s obvious what’s happening, Gavin. You’re trying to control the Vagabond. Why? The tiara trick failed. If you’re still trying, it means you haven’t learned anything!”
“That’s enough!” Gavin stood. His voice boomed in the study, and the echo reminded Braeden very much of his father’s voice. The similarity floored him, and he couldn’t speak even as Gavin continued.
“You need to trust that I will tell you more when we return to Hillside. I respect you, Braeden, but you should not get close to her. She is not one of us and should not be treated in such a way. There are hundreds of Hillsidian women who would kill to have you. What happened to—what’s her name? Eloise? Find her. Or pick another woman, but stay with your own kind. Leave Kara out of your life.”
“Brother—”
“This conversation is over, Braeden. Prepare for the Gala, and try to enjoy yourself.”
Braeden gritted his teeth and forced himself to bow before he stormed from the room. A guard ushered him into a bedroom and left just as quickly.
The mattress dipped under Braeden’s weight as he sat on the edge of his bed and wondered how power hungry his brother had become. A resourceful Blood like Gavin could find a way to take anything—and anyone—he wanted. Kara would never be safe so long as she remained nearby.
Braeden reached a hand in his pocket and fiddled with the small talisman he’d brought with him from the Drenowith caves where Adele had trained him. The muse had discussed several matters with him, including one that he’d never wanted to speak aloud: the fact that, after all these years, he still kept the key to his father’s kingdom. It was a small, black carving, its design comprised of several black jade thorns interwoven in a small square. Though it had nothing to do with Carden’s hold over him, keeping it confirmed what he subconsciously knew: someday, he would want to go back to the Stele.
A thought pulled on his mind, buzzing like a fly just out of reach. This sensation only ever plagued him whenever he thought of the Stele or sensed Carden’s presence. How annoying. It would disappear if he could only ignore it.
He rolled out of his bed and looked through the window as the red sun set over the vast forests below. His room loomed over the ground, much higher up than he’d expected.
In the rooms above and below him, representatives from four of the five remaining yakona races bustled and prepared for the Gala. That the kingdoms were even here proved miracles could happen, but a treaty was only the first step. If Gavin made another move to control Kara, everything she had worked for would dissolve from under her.
Braeden ruffled his hair and opened his door. He walked down the hall until he found a guard and asked for Kara’s room. She was a floor above.
He took a staircase and walked toward her room, trying to figure out the missing puzzle piece in Gavin’s intentions. The Hillsidian had tried and failed to control Kara, but he knew nothing of limits or restraint. A cursed tiara was no doubt the first of many deceptions.
Kara sat on her bed. The plush comforter reminded her of Hillside, which simultaneously comforted and terrified her. She would have to return there eventually, but she would postpone that as long as possible.
Twin had left almost as soon as she dropped Kara off, mumbling something about how Kara could use some time alone. And after the week she’d spent with Braeden, she could definitely use some time to think.
She sighed. He’d wrapped an arm around her in his sleep last night.
The door opened and shut before Kara could even look up. Gavin stood by the entrance, his hands behind his back.
“Normal people knock, Gavin,” she said without getting up.
“Normal people also bow when in the presence of a king, so I suppose neither of us is normal.”
Kara shook her head and resumed her stare out the window.
He cleared his throat. “I came to apologize for the incident with the tiara. It was arrogant.”
“It was many things, none of them nice. Therefore, you’ll need a bit more than that to make up for it.”
He walked around to the edge of her bed and set something on the comforter behind her. He crossed to the window and leaned against it, blocking most of her view. With such a relaxed stance, he looked more like an athlete than a king. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her, three feet away and too close for comfort.
Kara wanted to turn and see what he put on the comforter, but a small part of her already knew she wouldn’t like it. She caught his eye and almost instantly regretted it. His stare made her throat tighten. Her heart raced. He gave her a smolder, a look that had no doubt broken many a heart in his lifetime.
Her face flushed, and she hop
ed he couldn’t see it, but his grin told her he had. She wanted him to leave, but it didn’t look like that would happen anytime soon.
Braeden neared Kara’s door. Voices bubbled through the stone. He paused. One voice definitely belonged to Kara, and the other could only be Gavin’s. The thick door muffled their words.
With a quick look down the hall, Braeden confirmed he was alone. He leaned in, managing to make out a phrase here and there, and grew angrier with every word he caught.
Kara resisted the urge to scoot away from Gavin, choosing instead to stare through what bits of the window his body didn’t block.
Gavin smirked. “You’re a puzzle, Kara. Did you know that? I can’t figure you out, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“You’re crazy all right, but I don’t think it’s my fault.”
He laughed. “I won’t lie. Women don’t usually deny me anything. And yet, that’s all you’ve done—tell me no.”
“You don’t really ask. You just demand. It’s annoying.”
“That’s what kings do, Kara. We don’t ask for respect or power—we expect it. Deep down, you crave that.”
“Not everyone wants power.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s what you need. The Vagabond’s cause won’t survive this war if you continue what you’re doing. You need my power to show the other Bloods how to unite.”
He stepped forward, but Kara refused to move. She caught his gaze, glaring at him as he came closer. He was probably trying to prove his point by making her inch away from him. Sweat beaded on her palms, but she wouldn’t give him the luxury of knowing that her body tensed more with every step he took.
He didn’t stop until he stood in front of her. He grinned.
“I’m impressed,” he finally said.
“Get to the point, Gavin.”
His expression softened, and he took a step back. “I find you mesmerizing. You’re stubborn, proud, confusing, beautiful…and you don’t want me. That, I do not understand.”
“Good lord, you’re arrogant.”
He shrugged. “Enlighten me, then. Is there someone else?”
Kara bit the inside of her cheek. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else. If there was, they would become leverage, just like the Vagabond told her back in the village. But there was someone else.
“Braeden?” Gavin asked.
“Just stop it. You’re about to sign a peace treaty, for heaven’s sake. You need to focus on what’s important!”
“I am,” he said. His eyes never left hers.
Kara groaned. She looked around the room for inspiration, and her eyes settled on the familiar black box now sitting on her bed. That must have been what Gavin had behind his back when he came into the room.
“Is that—?”
“Before you get upset, hear me out,” Gavin interrupted.
“That’s the tiara, isn’t it? The one you tricked Twin into giving me?”
“It’s a peace offering. I removed the curse. It’s nothing but a crown any more. It’s a priceless heirloom, and I can’t make myself look at it for what I’ve done, so I want you to have it. Wear it to the Gala as a token of forgiveness.”
“I’m not wearing that tiara!”
Gavin crossed his arms. “This is all a misunderstanding. Please, take it with my apology.”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to wear it?”
“Not stupid. I simply wish to rebuild our trust by proving to you that the curse has been removed.”
Kara sighed. “I don’t want a crown. If you want to prove anything to me, then don’t unite with the other Bloods to get your revenge on Carden. Do this out of a true desire for peace. That’s all I want.”
He leaned in, but glanced to the door and paused. Kara followed his gaze, but the door hadn’t opened or anything. When she looked back to the king, he reached for her hand. She tensed, but he simply bowed and kissed it.
“Enjoy your stay, Vagabond,” he said without looking at her.
He headed out the door without looking back. It shut behind him. For a moment, she heard voices, but they trailed off even as she strained to hear them.
Kara eyed the black box on her bed for a moment before she picked it up. She didn’t open the box—there was no need. She knew what the tiara looked like. But even if she didn’t see the barbs on it any longer, she couldn’t bring herself to trust Gavin.
She opened the drawer in her nightstand and threw the box inside.
Braeden pulled back and darted down the hall as footsteps shuffled for the door. He hid in another doorway as Gavin left the room. Gavin’s footsteps stopped as soon as Kara’s door closed.
“Brother, I thought I told you to stay away from the Vagabond,” the king said.
Braeden sighed and slid from the doorframe to face the Blood. “I’m just trying to keep you from making a mistake. What are you trying to do? Seduce her?”
“She’s off limits, brother. Don’t worry yourself with why.”
“That is not your decision to make.”
Gavin sighed. “I’m sorry to do this, Braeden, but I forbid you from spending any more time alone with her. She is poisoning your mind.”
The Blood’s intense glare said more than his words—he was trying to control Braeden, to force a mandate. Carden had never been so kind as to verbally warn Braeden when he delivered a direct order, but Gavin’s threat held the same intent.
To disobey the mandate would only hurt Braeden’s cause—either Gavin would think Kara had broken the blood loyalty of the king’s adopted brother, or Gavin would figure out that Braeden wasn’t Hillsidian after all.
“The Queen never forbade me from anything in all the years I lived under her roof,” Braeden said.
“Times are changing. Leave.”
Gavin guarded Kara’s door, motionless. Braeden bowed and walked away, going nowhere as fast as he could. This wasn’t a fight he could win.
He slowed down when he rounded a few corners and Gavin was out of sight. His fingers grazed the wall as he passed. Gavin had given him a direct order. A command. This was yet one more thing to look out for amongst his growing pile of complications.
That Gavin had been kind enough to verbalize the order was a relief, though; Braeden’ hadn’t been so lucky in Losse, when he’d changed into his Lossian form to join Kara in the sunken kingdom. There, Blood Frine had forced him into the throne room to test his loyalty, giving Braeden a silent order he couldn’t have hoped to hear, much less obey. It had proven he didn’t have the Lossian blood loyalty. Luckily, Frine had believed it was because Kara turned Braeden into a vagabond. No one there had ever suspected what Braeden truly was: a Stelian.
But Gavin had spoken the command aloud, which proved Gavin still respected him and had no suspicion that Braeden was anything more than a Hillsidian his parents adopted. That meant there would be no tails or spies watching him, since a direct order was the undeniable end of it.
It would have been, at least, if Braeden was Hillsidian.
He needed a plan. He couldn’t leave Kara to fend for herself, especially not now. His admittedly confusing feelings aside, he needed to help her. She didn’t have anyone else.
There weren’t many options, but he did settle on one: once the Gala ended and everyone went home, Braeden would feign isen hunts. If he said he was trying to find a guild, it would be impossible to prove he hadn’t actually gone. He could use that as cover and keep an eye on Kara from a distance.
In the meantime, Braeden needed to find a place to meet Kara in private. He had to explain everything before it became difficult to find her.
Gavin hadn’t said anything about being around Kara in public—an intentional loophole, no doubt. It would be suspicious, not to mention rude, if the king’s brother suddenly stopped speaking to the Vagabond. The others would notice.
Braeden walked aimlessly, lost in his thoughts, when his fingers brushed something in the wall.
A wooden ladder jutted from the carved mountain hallway
, bolted to the wall with rusted screws. As Braeden looked up, he saw a small door in the wall about twenty feet in the air. He began climbing just to have something to do, and when he finally reached the top, he opened the door to see an overgrown garden.
Dusk cast shadows over the terrace as he pulled himself onto the weeds. Several large windows lined the mountain to the left of the overrun space, their light spilling out along the grasses. Braeden looked in. A hundred or more feet below, figures darted through a grand hall where the Gala would probably be held. Tables cluttered the floor, and several yakona from every nation set each table with linens and dishes.
Braeden turned back to the garden and brushed aside some of the lilacs as he sat on a stone flowerbed. The scent stung his nose, but he resisted the impulse to draw his sword. He doubted isen could find their way here—no one could stumble across this corner of Ethos, not with all the guards in the trees.
He ran his hands through the crowded weeds, trying to shrivel them to let the more vivid flowers bloom so that the garden would look presentable. He laughed—he’d gone crazy. Here he was, a prince living a lie, gardening to impress a woman. He’d lost his mind.
Instead of giving the flowers more room to bloom, though, the weeds thickened at his touch and the lilacs wilted. He cursed under his breath. Not only was he terrible with animals, but he apparently couldn’t garden to save his life.
Kara would have been able to do it without even trying.
He glanced around, abandoning the flowerbed. Night crept in around him. A wall protected the garden from the sheer drop beyond, and the moon shone full and low on a purple horizon. The stars glimmered in the blanket of darkness above him, and as he watched, a comet blinked across the sky. The forests swayed in a breeze.
Braeden reached into his pocket and pulled out the talisman. He turned the Stelian coat of arms over and over in his hands, examining every detail. Adele had nearly punched him when he told her he still had it. She’d even made him dig it up. She wanted to see him destroy it, but he never got the chance. Not long after he’d dug it up, Adele’s amulet told her Kara was in danger.
