Her fears had caused him to second-guess her feelings the same way she’d feared his not knowing her actual face would affect his feelings. He was right; it wasn’t very fair.
“I’m sorry.” She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart pounded a steady rhythm beneath her ear, kicking up a notch with each passing second. The fact that she could do that to him, affect him so much, caused her to smile.
“I’m being an idiot,” she continued. “I’m just afraid of losing whatever this is, that’s all. Of getting too deep only to have it ripped away.”
“I am, too,” he told her, tilting her chin up so that he could catch her gaze. “But we can’t push each other away or be afraid of how the other really feels. I care about you, no matter what you look like. That’s not going to change.”
“I care about you, too.” She grinned, knowing full well how stupid she probably appeared, but she was unable to hold it back. “So you’re totally cool with me shaving my head, huh?”
He flashed a mock-terrified face. “Uh, let’s not get carried away now. I like your hair. I’ll like it when it’s red. But yes, I’d rather you kept it. On your head.” He paused and frowned suddenly.
Knowing that it meant he’d gotten a telepathic communication, she pulled away and activated the sink so that she could quickly wash her face. It was odd how comfortable she was doing it in front of him. She didn’t feel like there was any reason to hide, especially after their talk.
Though, admittedly, despite that, it did still help that she didn’t actually look like herself. If she looked stupid, it was Olena looking stupid to him.
“That was Trump Fendus, the Basilissa’s personal royal adviser. The Basilissa has requested you.” He glanced down at what they were both wearing. “We should probably change. And stop by your room. Quickly,” he promised when she opened her mouth to argue. “This might surprise you, but I don’t have any makeup here.”
“That does surprise me,” she said, feigning shock. “This whole time I thought mascara was how you got your lashes so long!”
“Come here, you.” He grabbed her and began tickling her until there were tears in her eyes, which he effectively kissed away.
* * *
DELANEY TOOK A deep breath and braced herself before the doors to the Basilissa’s personal chamber. Though, it wasn’t technically hers, but a special room made out of the hospital wing of the castle. She was healing from her wound at a quicker rate than any human would, what with their advanced medicines and technology, yet she was apparently still pretty weak after the ordeal.
Trystan was supposedly in a private room as well, somewhere nearby, but Delaney wasn’t going to ask anyone which one specifically, and had no intentions of visiting. Part of her felt guilty about that, considering he was there because he’d saved her life. The other part recalled all the times he’d threatened that same life, which eventually won out over the guilt.
She’d thank him eventually anyway. He’d be healed before the next two and a half days passed and the real Olena got here, which meant she’d be forced to see him again before her departure.
Upon seeing them, the guards stationed at either side of the doors to the Basilissa’s room readied themselves, bowing slightly and avoiding eye contact. At her almost imperceptible nod signaling she was ready, they tugged the heavy golden doors open.
Inside didn’t seem anything like how Delaney would have pictured an alien hospital room to look. For one, instead of all the high-tech science-fiction-like gadgets she’d imagined, there was just the one glass tablet resting on a metal side table. It was no bigger than an original iPad, and the only thing flashing across it was a squiggly neon line that moved with the Basilissa’s breathing.
The Basilissa was seated upright, propped against a foam pillow that cradled her body perfectly. There was a thin white blanket over her lower half, and her loose-fitting shirt was a mint shade. Her hair was down and curled lightly around her shoulders, giving her a relaxed air Delaney hadn’t expected to come from a queen.
The entire left wall was one massive window, letting in a stream of sunlight that warmed the room and set all the gold accents glittering. The place was big enough to fit another three beds at least, with an attached bathroom twice the size of Ruckus’s.
There were currently four other people in the room, three of them obviously Tellers, the last an older man she assumed was the Trump.
“Ander Ruckus.” The older man with sandy hair addressed him politely then turned her way. “Lissa Olena. Basilissa Tilda asked us to give you privacy. If you need anything, just call. My men and I will be right outside the door.”
“Understood, sir,” Ruckus said.
“Thank you,” Delaney added for good measure, which might have been a mistake, for she caught the incredulous look that passed over his face before he quickly exited.
No one liked Olena. Not even the people who were supposed to protect her.
“Hello, Delaney.” Tilda’s voice was soft and almost lyrical. She smiled, and even that was delicate and ethereal in its own way.
“Hello.” Really, what else was there to say?
Ruckus stood in the corner of the room, close but not intruding. Apparently he hadn’t been asked for this meeting but was there merely as her bodyguard.
“How are you feeling after yesterday?” Tilda asked. The room smelled like a mixture of sweet roses and eucalyptus. The scent strengthened the closer she got to the Basilissa. “I’m sure the ceremony was hard enough for you without it being crashed by terrorists.”
“It was, yes.” This was awkward.
Tilda seemed to think so as well, because her smile wavered and she dropped her gaze to her folded hands in her lap. She’d pulled herself together a second later, though, and attempted conversation again.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been more attentive,” she began. “Being here must be very hard for you, having no prior knowledge of us or our customs. We didn’t even bother trying to school you in our ways, just tossed you out into our world blindly. I’ll forever regret that. Seeing how close you came to dying last night … I just want to formally apologize on my daughter’s behalf.”
Well, that was sweet and unexpected. Considering the way the Basileus had always treated her, she’d sort of just assumed his wife was on the same page.
“I appreciate that,” she told her, smiling herself for good measure. She was standing next to her bed, and lowered her arms to her sides. She’d been a bit afraid that this talk would be negative, maybe even about Olena and something happening to her.
What would they do if something did? If her ship didn’t make it here or she simply died somehow aboard it? If there was no longer a real Lissa, would they force Delaney to remain here and play the part forever? Her gaze shifted over toward Ruckus, who gave her a reassuring stare. He’d never let that happen to her. He’d already said as much.
“I know how it was done,” Tilda said tentatively then, inspecting her face, “but it’s uncanny how much you look like her. I haven’t seen my daughter since she left for her denzeration. Unfortunately, Olena isn’t the type of child who enjoys calling home.”
“That must be hard for you, being apart from her for so long. Having to see me instead,” Delaney offered.
“It is,” she agreed. “That’s part of the reason I’ve stayed distant and allowed Magnus to strong-arm you. To me, you look just like Olena, and it’s a constant reminder of what she’s done to you and to our people. She risked the lives of everyone to save herself.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and it was clear she was holding back tears.
Instinctually, Delaney stepped closer, dropping a comforting hand to her arm. “You aren’t responsible for the things she’s done.”
“But I am,” she disagreed, “at least partially. We are created by the things people do and say to us. I’m her mother; I should have done a better job, should have paid more attention to her and to the type of wom
an she was becoming. It’s no secret she isn’t well liked or respected.”
“She isn’t a coward,” Delaney surprised herself by saying. “Yes, she did a horribly selfish thing and put a lot of people in jeopardy, but you and I have both met Trystan. Add that to the fact that you can have children with only one person.… She did save herself at the expense of everyone else, but who’s to say her life is less important? It was wrong, but it was also understandable.”
“You surprise me.” Tilda tilted her head. “She’s the reason you’re here, after all. Actually, ironically enough, Trystan is the reason. He did save your life yesterday, didn’t he? I must admit, that shocked me. I almost didn’t feel the wound in my leg because of how much so. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never once seen him put someone else’s well-being before his own. Except, of course, for his people.
“That’s the major difference between my daughter and him, you see. They’re both well-known for their attitudes and disregard. My daughter might not be feared in the same ways the Zane is, but she’s feared nonetheless. Yet where she cares only for herself, Trystan has always had a heart for the Kints. He might prefer war over peace right now, but that’s merely because he feels it’s the best course of action for his people. He’ll make a great leader, unlike Olena, which is why, after much debate, Magnus and I decided to agree to the betrothal.”
She thought about whether her own mother would make that choice, if she’d sell her to the highest bidder if it meant keeping their town together. What if an outside threat came and wanted to destroy it and all the people she’d grown up with? What would she do?
It was a hard scenario to play out, and she feared the only way anyone could truly know the answer was if it actually happened to them. People rarely knew what they were capable of until they were forced into a corner. The unsettling thing was, with the discovery of Xenith, a threat like that was possible.
Hell, if any of the Kints discovered where Olena really was, everyone was pretty sure they’d start attacking Earth so …
“What happens when she’s back?” Delaney asked. “The Tar attacks probably aren’t going to stop anytime soon.”
“We don’t think so, no,” she agreed direly. “And unfortunately we’re no closer to discovering where they congregate, or who their real leader—if they even have a set one—resides. Until then, I fear there’s really nothing we can do except triple security and hope for the best.”
“We’ve confirmed there isn’t as strong of a Vakar presence in the Tars as we were led to believe,” Ruckus spoke then. “Someone went through a lot of trouble, and used a lot of patience, to convince us to distrust our own.”
“That’s unsettling,” Tilda acknowledged. “I assume the Basileus has been given this update?”
“I spoke to him about it last night, Basilissa.”
“Good. Well, that’s something then. At least we can rule out most of our people stabbing us in the back.”
Seeing how the darker turn of conversation caused her shoulders to slump slightly, Delaney drew her attention back her way.
“I didn’t ask how you were doing,” she said. “You are the one currently in the hospital.”
“Thank you. I’m doing well. I’ve actually been healed since this morning, but my nerves were a bit frazzled, and frankly this is the safest place for me until the castle is deemed one hundred percent secured. It’s my understanding that we’re running a few last-resort drills to be sure?” She directed this last part to Ruckus, who nodded.
“Yes, ma’am, we are. They should be finished with that within the hour.”
“Maybe you’ll get to try enjoying some of your day then.” Tilda patted her hand. “Only two left before you leave and get to go back home. You should try to enjoy all the things Xenith offers while you still can. I’ve been thinking about making my way down to the pools all morning. I could use their healing properties right about now.”
She felt a bit guilty about that, because the only reason Tilda hadn’t been able to use the advanced healing pool, the Alter Pool, was that she’d just been Uprisen. Of course, that really had nothing to do with Delaney. It was their tradition and laws that deemed it so, after all.
“It was nice speaking with you,” Tilda told her. “Thank you for allowing me to apologize. Hopefully last night will be the last of the unfortunate events that befall you during your stay here.”
She had to agree with her there.
CHAPTER 23
They stepped out of the Basilissa’s room at the same time Brightan entered the hall a few doors down. He froze, glaring their way before straightening and taking position against the wall.
She followed Ruckus, but as they were passing the room the Kint had just exited, she stopped. The only reason Trystan’s Sworn—the Kint equivalent of an Ander—would be guarding this door was if it led to the Zane. Despite her earlier thoughts on the matter, now that she’d been spotted by Brightan, she thought it’d be really wrong of her to leave without at least stopping in quickly.
She could do that, pop her head in, call out a thanks if Trystan was awake, and be on her way. The whole process would only take a matter of seconds, and afterward she wouldn’t feel so indebted. Hopefully. Probably not—he had saved her life, evoking a slew of uncomfortable and confusing emotions in her—but at least she’d be closer to putting it behind her.
“That’s not a good idea,” Ruckus told her, clearly able to pick up on where her thoughts were headed.
“Everyone has seen us,” she pointed out. “I think it’d be a bigger deal if I didn’t go in there. They’re betrothed, after all, and he did just save my life. Even Olena can’t be that coldhearted.”
“Would it actually surprise you if she was?”
Sadly, no. But Delaney wasn’t that person herself, so she stepped toward the door, bracing when Brightan threw an arm before it faster than a snake could strike.
“The Lissa would like to thank the Zane,” Ruckus said, voice steely. “You will let her pass.”
“I am under no obligation to your Lissa,” he sneered.
“So long as you remain in Vakar”—Ruckus took a threatening step closer—“I disagree.”
“Disagree all you like, Ander. I will not—” Brightan clamped his mouth shut and canted his head, the same way the rest of them did when they received a telepathic communication. A moment later his hand gripped the silver door handle so tightly, his knuckles turned bone white.
Without another word, he shoved the door open a few inches, immediately turning back to his post. He refused to look either of them in the eye, but when Ruckus moved forward, his arm was back and he shook his head once.
“She goes alone.” It was obvious Brightan didn’t like this scenario any more than Ruckus did.
“It’s fine.” She rested a hand on Ruckus’s arm before he could argue, and turned to smile at him, despite how nervous she suddenly felt. This had been a bad idea after all, but it was too late to go back now. “I’ll be quick.”
“See that you are,” he told her, then sighed. “I’ll be right here.”
Straightening her shoulders, she inhaled and then pushed the door open the rest of the way. Stepping inside, she almost jumped when Brightan snatched the handle and tugged it shut once more.
“I heard you in the hall.” Trystan’s voice yanked her attention to the other side of the room. He was lying in a bed similar to the one the Basilissa had been in. White bandage tape was wrapped tightly around his upper body, and he was propped up in an almost sitting position.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he added when she continued to stand in front of the door and stare. “Are you here to see for yourself that I’m still alive? I’m sorry to disappoint.”
“No, I—” She realized she’d been wringing her hands, then dropped them, forcing herself to take a determined step closer. “Can we drop the sarcastic act for one second?”
He lifted a single blond brow. “I wasn’t being sarcastic.”
<
br /> “I’m here to thank you,” she said, and waved at him, “for, you know. Getting shot. Saving my life. Does it hurt?”
Trystan seemed just as surprised by her question as she was by asking it. His gaze swept over her, a frown forming and deepening the longer he looked. He was a very pale color, and when he shifted on the bed, he couldn’t quite cover up his wince in time.
“I hardly notice,” he lied, and they both knew that he had, but he didn’t recant.
“That was your chance,” she said, the words rushing from her lips before she could help them. “No one could have implicated you if you’d just let him shoot me.” She recalled what he’d said to her after the teekee had spilled. “That was your chance to be free. Why didn’t you take it?”
Trystan watched her silently, and just when she’d started to believe he wasn’t going to give her an answer, he murmured, “Olena never was very perceptive.”
It almost sounded like he was speaking to himself, though, and when she locked her eyes on his, he was looking at her differently. Almost like he was confused about what he saw. The calculating expression was one he’d used against her before, and it made her spine stiffen.
“I’m trying to match the girl before me with the one I’ve known,” he told her. “But you keep changing.”
“Trystan.” She retreated a step.
“Stop.” His tone was harsh, and she found herself obeying. He contemplated his next words and ended up telling her, “It hurts when I move.”
“I’m sorry.” And, a bit uneasily, she discovered that was the truth. She didn’t like him, but she also didn’t like that he was hurt because he’d been protecting her. No matter what his reasons for doing so were.
“You are, aren’t you?” He lifted a hand and curled his fingers toward her. “Come here.”
Her survival instincts snapped back into place, and this time it was easy to ignore his command. She had her hand on the doorknob and was in the process of opening it in a matter of heartbeats.
“Thank you again, Trystan,” she told him, meeting his gaze over her shoulder before quickly leaving the room.
Amid Stars and Darkness Page 26
