Marissa’s Mari flowed through her, easing the pain, giving her clarity to answer. Not for the first time, she imagined the thrill of killing her mother and taking the throne for herself. But it wasn’t time yet; she had to be patient.
She told Lliandra the lies she wanted to hear: Valterys was preparing an army of trolls and men from the West. He believed Lliandra wanted to use the Eirielle against him to seize his throne. It was the same each time they spoke. Valterys might very well be gathering an army, but Marissa didn’t care about war. Her plans only involved Taryn.
Lliandra tapped her fingers on the table. “You told Zakael I have no wish for the Obsidian Throne?” Marissa nodded. “What is that fool thinking? He is playing a dangerous game, one I don’t have time for. What more, Marissa? Did you discuss our plan for Taryn?”
For once, Marissa could tell her mother the truth. “We did. Zakael is most eager to have his sister visit Gaarendahl. He agrees that we need to control her Dark Shanti.” Sparks of her Mari played across her fingertips.
“Stop that. You know it upsets me to see you abusing your power,” Lliandra scolded. “Faelara tells me Taryn is progressing with her Light skills and Rhoane is pleased with her Eleri abilities. Are you certain Zakael will work with us to constrain the girl? If we are to destroy Valterys, we must have his complicity in this.”
“You have his full cooperation, Mother.”
“Excellent. Now go and bathe. You stink of Zakael, and it offends me.”
“Do you miss it?” Marissa said before she had time to think of the consequences. “The feel of his Dark Shanti wrapped around your body like the finest velvet? The silky sweetness of his power pulling you under until you feel like you can’t breathe and all you want to do is linger in the Dark until there is no more Light? Tell me, Mother, do you regret whoring me out to him?”
Lliandra’s face contorted with anger for a split second before she covered it with a mask of calm. “You go too far, daughter.” She stared into Marissa’s eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, you took up the charge without much provocation.”
Marissa met her mother’s glare. “I won’t deny I enjoy it. He is young and virile, like me.”
Lliandra’s hand cracked across her face and the blow knocked her back. Marissa lashed out at her mother with a force contained for far too long. The empress slammed against the wall, her arms and legs held with bonds of Mari.
She moved close to her mother’s face. “Never strike me again. Lest you forget, I am the crown princess and heir to the Light Throne. All you hope to accomplish is but a wish away from me.” She swept from the room, releasing her power on her way out.
When she reached her rooms she stood at the open window, sucking at fresh air, her palms pressed against the sill. Her body ached from Zakael’s abuse, and she wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot tub until the morning light.
Her maids scrambled to run a bath and arrange for her comfort while she calmed her racing mind. Things were moving too fast and yet not quickly enough. It would be too risky to kill Lliandra now, and yet she was tired of having to answer to her mother’s shortsighted whims. Lliandra thought only of her petty revenge on Valterys. She wanted control of both thrones but was willing to let Zakael be a puppet overlord if it meant Valterys was out of the picture.
Marissa laughed at the folly. Lliandra never dreamed very big. Her limited vision was only the first step in Zakael’s plan, one that was necessary if Marissa were to attain her own goals.
Lady Celia rushed into the room, her hair unbound, her dress askew. “My lady.” She lowered herself near to the floor.
“What are you doing here?” The girl’s arrival was impertinent. Marissa was far too sore to entertain any thoughts of a dalliance with Celia. She needed to rest.
When Celia looked up, it was with wild-eyed confusion. The blacks of her pupils filled her eye, leaving only a sliver of blue around the edges. “You called for me.”
Marissa started to deny the claim but stopped. Something was not right about the girl. “Of course. I was just about to bathe. Join me.” Watching Celia’s erratic movements, the ping of dread she often had when things were not as they ought to be plucked at her nerves. There was too much at stake for anything to alter her course.
“Harvest.” Celia looked up from her undressing, calm clarity in her eyes. “It must be done at Harvest.”
Marissa took Celia’s hands in her own, soothing her. “What is troubling you? Please, unburden yourself to me.”
Celia shook her head with an imbecilic giggle. “It’s Herbret. He’s in a fit because of Sabina.” She shrugged out of her gown and stood naked. Her skin glowed with the faintest dusting of glitter, like black stars on a field of snow, and then it was gone.
“Herbret? I already told him there is nothing to be done. Mother’s mind is made up.”
“No. He must have Sabina first. Must be unbroken.”
Tired of the charade, Marissa went to the bathing room where her maids helped her with her gown. Once rid of the garment, she slipped into the steaming water, wincing when it invaded her tender regions. She was exhausted. In the morning, she’d worry about what that rutting pig Herbret was doing. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the cool porcelain of the tub. The water sloshed with Celia’s entry, spilling onto the floor.
The heat did Marissa’s aching muscles good. Knots of tension worked themselves out, and when Celia moved behind her to massage her neck, she relaxed into the girl’s nimble touch. Celia’s deep breathing and the feel of her breasts against Marissa’s back sent warm tingles through her body. The girl’s Mari encircled her, delightfully strong and tinged with a darkness Marissa craved. It burned through her, easing her anxiety, quieting her concerns.
When Celia’s hands slid over Marissa’s breasts to rest between her legs, a blackness overtook her. Sweet, lulling, seductive. She opened herself to the sensations, lost to the pleasure Celia brought.
Chapter 43
TARRO dressed Taryn in a gown of deep blue that matched her eyes. The luxurious silk bodice hugged her cleavage with a scandalous lack of fabric and draped to the floor in a shimmering pool. She fidgeted before the mirror, anxious to be done with dinner and returned to her rooms. A light knock at the door stilled her movements. Kaida, roused from her nap by the sound, yipped at the intruder.
Eliahnna swept in wearing a sheath of jade that made her strawberries and cream skin look ethereal. With her grace and lightness, Eliahnna’s father had to have been a Faerie. Taryn tucked away the thought and greeted her sister.
She sat on the sofa, stroking Kaida’s soft fur as they chatted about the day’s events until Tarro finished his preparations and excused himself. When they were alone, Taryn retrieved the small packet from her bureau and sat beside her sister. Taryn turned the parcel over again and again, debating her decision. At length, she handed the bundle to Eliahnna.
“This is a gift from Eoghan. He asked me to give it to you once we were away from the Narthvier.” Taryn held Eliahnna’s hands in her own and met her sister’s gaze. “Normally, I would’ve cautioned you against this, but after what happened yesterday, I’ve realized life is too precious to waste doing what others think is best for you.”
Her sister opened the packet and held up a snippet of wood hanging from a leather cord. Eleri script was meticulously carved into the sanded piece. “Can you read it?”
“I’m afraid not. And please don’t ask me to have Rhoane translate it. If he or his father knew I gave this to you, they’d eat me for breakfast.”
Eliahnna placed the pendant around her neck and, with a bit of Mari, hid it beneath her gown. “Thank you.” She kissed her sister’s cheek, lingering there for a moment. “I’m ever so glad you’ve returned to us and that you’re unharmed. But please,” Eliahnna leaned back, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of jade from her dress, “do be more careful. Vorlocks and assassins? I’ve just found you. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
“I love you, too.” Taryn c
hoked back more than a few tears.
After Eliahnna left, Taryn called out, “You can come out now, Tarro.”
The tailor entered her room looking chagrined. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I left my basket of supplies.” He retrieved the bundle from the floor and bowed low to her. “I will speak of this to no one.”
“I would appreciate that. If they continue this folly, it will come out sooner or later, but I would like to stall that day as long as possible.” She gave him a wan smile, “Love is a tricky business, is it not?”
A lovely stain spread across his cheeks. “Indeed it is, my lady.”
“Do you have a special someone in your life? A handsome rogue, perhaps?”
The stain darkened to a furious red. “His name is Armando. He is a whore in Talaith, gods help me, but I love him.”
A whore? She couldn’t imagine the logistics of loving someone in that profession. It would certainly have its drawbacks, but the benefits might be worth it. “Does he return this affection?”
“He does. We live in a comfortable house in the Arlo district. Seven seasons we’ve been together.”
Taryn was impressed. “You must be a remarkable couple. I would love to meet him someday.” At Tarro’s look of shock, she hastily added, “Not in a professional manner, just as friends.”
“I would like that.”
At dinner, Taryn feigned interest during much of the conversation. The nobles still chattered about the attack, even a day later, each having their own idea of who was behind it and why they would target Taryn on a busy summer morning at the market.
Herbret hovered nearby, asking after her comfort, bringing her wine if her glass was empty. His false concern for her well-being intrigued her. Since their return to Paderau, his cavalier attitude had been replaced with one of modest servitude. At every opportunity, he tripped over himself to get in Taryn’s good graces.
The charade droned on until dessert when Taryn excused herself and joined her sisters in the garden. They sat beneath clear skies with a gentle breeze cooling the late summer night.
The princesses kept the conversation light, not wanting to dwell on the attack, instead they gossiped about courtiers and boys—their two favorite subjects. Marissa and Celia joined them, reclining on a sofa together. Several times throughout the evening, Celia would stop mid-sentence and glance off, never returning to what she was saying. When they pulled her attention back to the conversation, Celia would giggle and give a nonsensical excuse for her behavior. Too much wine, not enough dinner. Too many sweets, not enough sleep.
Taryn exchanged a look with Sabina that said,Something is not right with that girl.
“Sabina!” Celia said, a giggle beneath her tone. “Congratulations on your betrothal to Lord Valen. I couldn’t be happier for you. Truly.”
“We’re not betrothed. We’ve only just had permission to court. It might be several seasons before we take that step.” Sabina told the group.
“Oh, poo. We all know you’ll marry in the end, why not just skip to the fun part now, while you’re still young and beautiful?”
Eliahnna looked sharply at Celia. “I doubt Sabina will ever be anything but beautiful. Why are you suddenly so in favor of the match? I thought just last wintertide you asked my mother if your father could petition Duke Anje for Hayden’s favor.”
A collective gasp made the round of ladies who reclined on the sofas, sipping wine and eating delicate pastries.
“Eliahnna,” Marissa said, her voice low, “this is most unsettling. I thought gossip beneath you.”
Taryn’s sisters glared at each other, a rare display of emotion from her younger sibling. But Celia ignored them both.
“Surely you don’t think I’m in love with the marquis? I fancied him for a spell, as every girl at court is bound to do, but I’ve found someone else.” She giggled again and fanned her face. “I’m in love.”
All eyes stared at Celia. Romance was the number one court intrigue, and none of the ladies had any knowledge of a lover.
“With whom?”
“Why haven’t I been told of this?”
“When can we meet this suitor of yours?”
It was a volley of questions lobbed at the poor girl.
Celia did a little shimmy with her shoulders and giggled some more. Taryn and Sabina shared another look. Something was definitely not right.
Marissa stood to leave, but Celia stayed seated. “Oh, I don’t know. Harvest, perhaps. There are so many plans to be made. You’ll be the first to know, I promise you,” Celia said to no one in particular, her gaze off in the distance.
Marissa yanked Celia’s arm until the girl stood, wobbling against the princess. “Ladies, I’m afraid Celia’s caught whatever malady I suffered from yesterday. If you’ll excuse me, I should get her to her room.”
They stumbled through the garden, Marissa’s hissed recriminations echoing above the flowers.
“Too much wine,” one woman said.
“Far too much,” another concurred.
The conversation lulled for several minutes until Sabina asked, “Do you think Hayden wants to get married?” Her tone suggested she wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not.
“If you’re just going to talk about boys, I’m going to bed.” Tessa stretched out her lithe body and yawned. “Boys are stupid.”
“I’ll go with you.” Taryn took her little sister’s hand in her own. “And we’ll talk about something other than boys, okay?”
They discussed toads and poisons and swords on the way to their rooms. Tessa was fascinated with anything creepy-crawly or deadly. Almost as much as she was with weaponry. Having to endure the older princess’s obsession with courtship was akin to torture for the young girl.
When they reached Tessa’s rooms, Taryn knelt in front of her sister. “Would you like to have a sleepover?”
“A what?”
“You get your jammies and sleep in my room tonight. We’ll stay up late talking about whatever you want. And maybe, if you’re very good and you promise not to tell anyone, we can have a sword fight.”
Tessa’s entire face blossomed. Despite Taryn’s begging, Lliandra had yet to let the other girls train with her. Taryn knew Tessa had a wooden sword hidden in her belongings and told her to grab it, along with anything else she might need overnight. They made a quick trip to the kitchen gardens with Kaida, then to the kitchen itself, making sure no one saw them, before returning to Taryn’s rooms with an armful of pilfered food from the pantry.
They ate, talked, and laughed for much of the night. Taryn had never spent much time with someone Tessa’s age, but the girl was acutely aware of what happened around her. More so than anyone gave her credit for. Being the fourth in line to the throne and too young for marriage prospects, most courtiers discounted her, but the girl had potential. Tessa was a fighter who had learned how to navigate the murky waters of court life without a safety net and made an island for herself where she could anchor when storms got rough.
Kaida slept with them in Taryn’s giant bed, curled into Tessa’s midsection, her paws over her muzzle. Taryn woke early and watched the two of them sleep. Their chests rose with each breath in and snuffle out. Tessa’s clear skin and fair curls shone with streaks of sunlight that filtered through the windows, and Taryn’s heart hiccuped with the amount of love she had for her sister. She ran her fingers through Kaida’s impossibly soft fur. Her failure in the market could never happen again. If that had been Tessa or Eliahnna instead of Gris… She squeezed her eyes shut against the thought. Tears fought for release, and Taryn leaned close to Tessa, kissing her forehead.
“I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”
When she looked down, Kaida watched her with a cognizance not expected of a puppy.
“What are you looking at, furball?” Taryn scratched beneath Kaida’s chin. “I love you, too, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Kaida stretched and yawned, her milky sweet puppy breath fill
ing the space.
“Is it fair that I took you from your home? Would you have rather stayed there to fend for yourself?” Kaida licked Taryn’s fingertips and then groomed her fur. “I’ll take that as a sign that you like me, but remember, no eating the palace cats. Or anyone’s dog. If you get hungry, eat the rats. Not the horses. Or the people.”
“Well, some people.” Tessa’s sleepy voice cut through the morning air. “There are a few I can think of, but they might not taste all that good.”
“That’s not very nice.” Taryn tickled her sister until they were both laughing so hard their sides hurt.
Once dressed, Taryn took them to the kitchens for breakfast. Carga gave Taryn a curious look but said nothing about her guest. At the sight of Kaida, the Eleri princess lost a touch of her usual reserve and held the bundle of fur with something close to glee.
After they ate, Taryn led them to the training ring where she set up a pen for Kaida and gave Tessa one of the wooden swords to practice with. Tessa’s eyes grew large, questioning, but Taryn assured her it would be fine.
Her youngest sister wore one of her shifts, which limited her range of motion considerably, but the girl had spirit and moved through the lesson with admirable speed and dexterity. Half a bell into their training Baehlon arrived, grumping about the early hour and the brightness of the sun. When he saw Kaida, he frowned, but when he saw Tessa he outright bellowed.
“Does your mother know she’s here?”
Taryn signaled for him to keep his voice down. “I’ll deal with her when I have to. Get in here and help or go back to bed.”
He chose to stay, much to Taryn’s astonishment, and relief. Lliandra would be pissed when she found out, but then, when wasn’t she upset with Taryn for one thing or another?
For the remainder of their stay, Taryn’s secret didn’t reach the empress. Or if it did, the empress chose to ignore it. Each morning, Tessa would join Taryn in the training ring, and in the afternoon, she would run alongside the servants and nobles in their impromptu football games. Sabina chose to sit beneath a skirm tree and watch the game rather than playing. Eliahnna joined them on one occasion, and even Marissa gave the game a go, begging off after only a few minutes.
The Stones of Kaldaar (Song of the Swords Book 1) Page 40
