Guardian of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  “I won’t. I would never do that.” I could never bear to hurt you, she cried out silently. But she already had, hadn’t she?

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Kerish was looking off into the distance, his face in profile to her, the moonlight casting strange shadows across his cheeks. She wished she could curl up in his arms as she had so many times before, and closed her eyes against the desire.

  She drifted into a half-awake state, waking only when they neared the black gateway and she had to be alert. But no one attacked. Back at the Residence, Kerish carried Felix up to their suite, laid him on his bed, and bade Willow good night. Willow undressed in the darkness, then stood at the window, looking out over the Residence grounds, which were mostly layers of dense shadow striped by moonlight. This wasn’t passion, it wasn’t mere desire. She loved Kerish, and she wanted desperately for him to love her too.

  But they’d been here once before, hadn’t they? And he’d chosen Terence Valant and she’d chosen midnighting, and neither of them had been willing to compromise. She could be honest with herself about it now: she’d been afraid to give up the thing that made her who she was, afraid to take a chance on finding something else. Something better. And since she was being honest, she could admit that she still wasn’t ready to give up midnighting to allay Kerish’s fears. Which meant she didn’t love him as much as all that, didn’t it?

  The hollow, icy feeling in her chest returned. How could she want something so badly and still be unwilling to do what it took to have it? She left the window and crawled into bed, lay hugging her knees, and eventually drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  The carriage neared the gate to the private neighborhood where the Serjian Residence lay, and Willow sat up a little straighter in the carriage, flexing her left wrist out of habit. No one had tried to kill Felix here since the first time, but she couldn’t stop seeing the bottleneck where the street funneled into the black pointed archway, the tall hedges lining the wall where someone might stand concealed even at midafternoon. Felix drooped in the curve of Kerish’s arm, exhausted from a morning spent playing in the waves and sun. He looked so innocent—but then he didn’t look much different when he was awake, did he?

  Kerish had nodded off too, and Willow spent a moment admiring his sleeping profile. She’d been surprised when he attached himself to their party that morning, and had to conceal just how happy it made her. It was tempting to go over and cuddle under his other arm, let him hold her. But even if she could, watching out for Felix’s safety was more important.

  One of Felix’s massive bodyguards leaned forward and said something in Eskandelic to the driver. Willow followed the exchange uncomprehendingly. If Felix’s enemies bribed the driver, or the guards, she might not have any idea of the treachery until it was too late. She flexed her wrist again. Maybe Kerish needed to start going armed, while they were in public with Felix. Maybe she needed to ask Janida for a second pair of guards, and alternate them so an enemy would have more trouble getting them alone long enough to bribe them. Or maybe she needed to control her paranoia so it didn’t get Felix killed.

  The carriage swept up the private street and came to a stop at the end of the Serjian drive. Willow shook Felix and Kerish awake, then helped Ernest down from the carriage as Kerish did the same for Felix. “I like the ocean,” Felix said with a yawn. “So does Ernest. We should go every day.”

  “I don’t know about that, but we can certainly do it again,” Willow said. “Now you need to bathe so you’re not covered in sand and salt, and then it will be time for supper.”

  “All right. Ernest, come!”

  Felix raced ahead of them to the front door, followed by a guard who swore under his breath as he trotted after the young King. Willow controlled a smile. Felix was always considerate of his guards, but he had trouble remembering that most people didn’t enjoy running everywhere.

  Kerish held the front door for Willow, and the two of them moved at a more sedate pace down the long front hall, cool and shady after the heat of midday. They reached the top of the stairs and began crossing one of the arched walkways between the buildings of the Residence. The breeze felt good against Willow’s cheeks, telling her she’d probably burned her face again. She really needed to be more careful or her skin would be permanently peeling and she’d look ridiculous. “Do you think—”

  Light footsteps, running footsteps, echoed in the corridor ahead, and Gessala appeared, running with her hands over her face. She bumped into Kerish, who caught her before she could fall. “Gessala, what is it?” he said.

  Gessala let out a string of Eskandelic words. She lowered her hands to reveal a tearstained face, gabbled something else to Kerish, then looked at Willow. Her face crumpled, and she burst out sobbing, then tore herself from Kerish’s hands and ran away past the two of them. Willow watched her go. “What’s wrong?”

  “She said her life is over. Let’s find Mother.”

  They found Janida in the hallway outside her suite, the hall that led to Willow and Felix’s rooms. She was just shutting the door to Catrela’s apartment, carefully, as if it might break if she handled it poorly. She saw Willow, and her lips tightened in anger. “Willow North,” she said. “You see what your rashness and violence have done?”

  Willow shook her head. “Is it something to do with Gessala?”

  Janida grabbed Willow by the upper arm and dragged her along the corridor toward the stairs. “Do not act so innocent,” she said, her voice low and grating. “You think Hajimhi will permit you disrespectful to be? That there will no repercussions be? Hajimhi Fariola sends word that the Hajimhi Principality’s offer to Gessala rescinded is. No more than this, and yet you are not stupid except when you angry are, so you will understand why.”

  Janida’s hand gripped Willow so tightly she felt numb. “Because of me.”

  “Mother, that’s not fair,” Kerish said.

  “Fairness there none is,” Janida said. Her accent was growing thicker. “Gessala tells us, Catrela and me, that it a love match is. Hajimhi hurts itself in not offering for her. But they have no political intent and therefore can afford…spiteful to be. Gessala suffers because of you, Willow North.” Janida released her with a force that set Willow’s arm swinging. “When will you learn yourself to govern?”

  “I’m sorry.” Willow managed not to rub her sore arm. “I can apologize—I can ask them to reconsider—”

  “Fariola was in the wrong, Mother, and we all know it,” Kerish said.

  “What we all know,” Janida spat, “is how this game played is. Fariola tested your honor and you failed. There no apologizing for that is. Worse, you insulted her in a way that forced her to rescind their offer or appear weak before others. You will be silent, and you will control yourself in future. Have you forgotten what at stake is? Felix can survive his feelings hurt to be, can survive scared being. He cannot survive if this vote fails. Do not forget.” Janida headed off in the direction they’d come. “And avoid Catrela for a time,” she added, not looking back. “You now the cause of pain to two of her children are. She does not forgive easily.”

  When the sound of Janida’s footsteps had faded completely, Kerish said, “She was too harsh.”

  “I don’t think she was,” Willow said. “I let Fariola needle me, and I should have remembered that Felix is strong enough to handle such petty taunts. This is my fault, Kerish.”

  “It’s not your fault they withdrew their offer. That was just spiteful and stupid. If Gessala fell in love with Giaveni—”

  “Not him. One of the harem sisters. I don’t know her name.”

  “Really? Oh. Well, either way, it’s hard on both of them to deny that love just because Fariola was embarrassed last night.”

  “I get the feeling love isn’t the most important thing when it comes to Eskandelic politics.”

  “True. But it still matters. We’re families as well as political entities.” Kerish took Willow’s hand briefly, startling her,
but he released her after a quick squeeze and said, “Come on, we both need baths as much as Felix does, and then there’s supper, and everything will work out eventually.”

  There were two empty spots at the supper table that evening. Gessala had disappeared, and Alondra said—blushing, and unable to look at Willow—that Catrela was feeling unwell and chose to eat in her rooms. Willow sat with her navel inches from the freezing iron hooks and concentrated on eating, though the food sat in her stomach like a leaden weight, but without the red-rimmed black emptiness real lead would have had in her vision. Janida ignored her except once to ask her to pass a particular dish. It was worse than being yelled at.

  Abruptly, Janida said, “Imara, have you completed your assignment for the scholia?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Imara said, not looking at Janida.

  “It too early to think of the Review is not,” Janida said. “Next year you will eighteen be, a good age. I married into Serjian Principality when I eighteen was.”

  “I do not choose, Mother.”

  Janida slammed her fist down on the table, making the dishes nearby rattle. “You do not choose? This all you say is. Not enough! Why do you not choose?”

  “I do not want to join a harem!”

  Janida’s voice softened. “It all right to be nervous is,” she said. “You do not yet understand the joys of sisterhood.”

  “No!” Imara rose to her feet, kicking her section of table loose so it hung canted against its neighbors. Her glass tipped over and poured a flood of pale wine across the tilted square that Alondra, sitting next to her, tried to stem. “I will not, and you cannot force me to!”

  “Force? Why force? Who speaks of force?”

  “Janida,” Salveri began in his deep rumble, but she cut him off with a curt gesture of her hand.

  “I do not force you,” she said. “I want you to see what is best for you. You will be vojenta someday, Imara, you may even be vojenta mahaut. How can you not see—”

  “You do not see, Mother,” Imara shouted. “I am in love and I will marry my love.”

  Janida recoiled as if Imara had slapped her. “Who?”

  “Petrosh Pieran. He loves me and—”

  “That scholar? The poor one? Do you expect your parents to consent to this, to a daughter of Serjian Principality living in poverty, wasting her talents on someone who no one is?”

  “He is not no one! He grows better-known every year. And they are my talents to waste!”

  “Imara, sit down,” Salveri rumbled.

  Imara remained standing. “I do not need your blessing,” she said. “I am of age and I can marry where I wish.”

  Janida sucked in a breath. “You dare threaten us?”

  “I am telling you, Mother. Permission or none, I know what I will do. I will go to him tonight if you tell me I must abandon him.”

  “No one has said you must abandon anything,” Salveri said. “Should we not at least meet him?”

  “You will just tell me he is not good enough.”

  “You do not put words in my mouth, child.” Salveri’s placid expression turned hard.

  “Janida,” Alondra said.

  “When it your child is, then you may speak,” Janida said. “Imara, sit down.”

  “No,” Imara said, and left the room. Janida rose to follow her.

  “Stop,” Salveri said, and to Willow’s shock Janida did. “Leave her be. She will sensible later be.”

  “And if she leaves?” Janida shot back. “If she runs to this man?”

  “You’ll only make things worse if you try to stop her,” Willow said without thinking, then successfully kept from cringing when Janida turned on her, glaring.

  “I think your opinion was not asked for, Willow North,” she said.

  “I know how little you care for my opinion right now,” Willow said. “I also know Imara has been afraid to tell you the truth for weeks, maybe months, and now that she’s done so, even if it was in the stupidest way possible, she’s probably even more afraid than before.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Doesn’t it? Janida, she cares about your opinion. She didn’t want to disappoint you, but she’s in love and she didn’t want to give that up either. Now she thinks you’re furious with her choice when what you’re really upset about is the way she told you. For all she knows, she’s just thrown away her family—and I guarantee you she’s not nearly so certain about her future with Pieran as she sounds.”

  The anger faded from Janida’s face, replaced by her familiar neutral expression. “You know him?”

  “Um, no. I…the truth is, I discovered their secret a couple of weeks ago, so all—don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my secret to tell, and it didn’t threaten Felix, so I didn’t feel obligated to tell you. But I did tell Imara she should be honest with you and Salveri.”

  “A fine honesty, that disrespects its parents.”

  “Sometimes, when you’re angry, you say the wrong thing,” Willow said. “And then you have to figure out how to make it right when you can’t take it back.”

  Janida narrowed her eyes. “True,” she said, almost grudgingly. Then she turned and left the room by the same door Imara had used.

  Alondra cleared her throat. “We should finish this meal, and then speak more in the morning,” she said.

  Willow picked at her food, and nibbled the sweet, iced dessert the servants put in front of her, but didn’t rise when Salveri and the others did. “Are you all right?” Kerish murmured.

  “I’m fine. Look, I’m going to put Felix to bed, and then I think I’m going to turn in. It’s been a really long day.”

  She took Felix’s slightly sticky hand and led him back to their chambers, where she supervised his washing and dressing. She sat on the bed next to him as he wiggled around trying to find a comfortable spot, exactly as Ernest did.

  “Is Imara in trouble?” he asked.

  “Not really. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

  “Doesn’t she have to marry a principality?”

  “No more than Kerish does. It’s just that sometimes parents want things for you that you don’t want for yourself. And then it gets…complicated.”

  “How do you know which to choose?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to do what your parents want? Hilarion says you should always obey your parents, because you owe them your life. But what if they want something that’s bad for you?”

  Willow smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Felix, mostly parents care about their children and do things that show that caring. But everyone has to grow up sometime, and when you do, sometimes you find out that what’s best for you isn’t what your parents want. And that doesn’t mean your parents are bad, just that they don’t know everything.”

  “So you have to choose?”

  “Eventually, yes. And since I’m your guardian, I’ll do my best to think of what you need and not just what I think you should do.”

  Felix yawned. “I know. I love you, Willow.”

  “I love you too, Felix.”

  To her surprise, Janida was waiting in the antechamber of their suite when Willow left Felix’s bedchamber. Willow shut the door quietly behind her and said, “Can I help you with something?”

  “Imara is gone,” Janida said. “She took a few things, not enough…she is gone.”

  “I’m sorry.” Willow braced herself for an outpouring of rage, but Janida just looked tired. “I know a place where she and Pieran met. I could check on it if you want.”

  “That would welcome be, but it can wait until morning. I think…if I follow her tonight, it will drive her farther away. I choose to believe she safe is with her…” She sat uninvited and covered her face with her hands. “I believed I doing the right thing was.”

  “I understand that.” Willow took a seat nearby.

  “Yes, I think you do. I harsh with you was, this afternoon.” Janida lowered her hands and sighed. “We learned this morning that
Khasjabi Principality has been secretly treating with Mahnouki, their question to support. Donia has lied to me and I cannot forgive her for her greed or myself for my blindness.”

  “Then they could be the assassins!”

  Janida shook her head. “They are not behind the attempts. They merely intended to make us believe they would support our question, then take their supporters unexpectedly to Mahnouki. Bad enough.”

  “It is. But it still leaves us not knowing who wants Felix dead.”

  “Catrela will learn, once she recovers her good sense. Salveri will spend the night with her and they will give each other comfort.”

  “Leaving you to sleep alone,” Willow said without thinking. “Though I guess you’re used to that, with Alondra.”

  Janida gave her a level, considering look, which made Willow squirm. It was the kind of look that said Janida was weighing her options and scathing ridicule was one of them. “You think I weak am, that I do not defend my rights?” she said.

  “I didn’t mean that. I—”

  “You think your customs better than mine are?”

  “No! They’re just different. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just…I don’t think I could share my husband with another woman he loved more than me.”

  Janida pursed her lips. “You think love all of one thing is,” she said, “but there many ways to love are, and many ways a marriage to build.”

  “You all seem happy. I’m sorry I criticized you.”

  Janida made a dismissing gesture with one hand. “Not all principalities so fortunate are. Some torn are by jealousies and hatred. You wrong are not that it difficult is. Salveri and I love each other. Salveri and Alondra love each other. These the same are not.”

  She again turned that level look on Willow, who tried not to squirm. It looked as if Janida were thinking something over, so Willow stayed quiet, though it was like trying not to cry out when your hand was being crushed by some enormous weight.

  Finally, Janida said, “My husband before Salveri was Serjian Lukan. He the love of my life was.” She smiled, and her expression was filled with such joy that Willow couldn’t breathe for a moment. “We three years together were before the accident that killed him. For a while I wished as well to die. But I had his daughter to care for, and my sisters would not let me fall into despair. I resented Salveri when he chosen was. I agreed to him, for no Prince may be chosen except all agree, but I would have resented any man who dared take my Lukan’s place.”