“Yes, Father.”
“Are they better?”
Rigel hovers near the door, and his presence gives me courage. “They are.”
Father smiles wide. “I am happy to hear that. Despite the honor I plan to bestow on him, it would be hard for him to leave them if they were ill, wouldn’t it?”
“What honor?” My voice stays even, but I am trembling on the inside.
“Rigel.” Father turns toward the door. “Go tell Antone Woodley he’s been chosen to join the regiment marching up north.” He smiles. “Make sure he knows it’s a great honor. He’s the very first man to be chosen, hand-picked by the king himself.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marielle sobs quietly in the corner. Antone kneels before her, trying to soothe away her tears. Rella takes Kara, who has begun to cry, and Kendal comforts Bea, who has also started crying. Not knowing what to do, I go to Rella and wrap my arms around her and the baby.
Rigel leans against the door, his head lowered, giving the family time to grieve. He blames himself. It’s not his fault, but the only reason Father chose Antone was to hurt me—which in turn punished Rigel for speaking out. It won't surprise me if Father has already given quiet orders to make sure Antone does not return.
“When do we leave?” Antone asks. His words cause Marielle to gasp, which renews the tears that were just ebbing.
“Two weeks,” Rigel says. “Maybe three.”
Antone nods, acknowledging his fate with grim resolve.
I hate this. The argument between Rigel and Father should not affect this family. People are not pawns for Father to move at will.
Rella pulls away, speaking of putting Kara to bed.
Rigel sets a hand on my shoulder. “We should go.”
I lean against him. A dark, heartless part of me is glad that it’s Antone and not Rigel. The thought makes me ill. I’m no better than Father. I watch as Antone murmurs to Marielle and wipes tears from her face. I swipe at a tear on my own cheek and look away.
Rigel closes the door softly behind us. The evening summer air is cool, and I wish I had thought to bring a cloak.
Rigel sets his arm on my shoulders, drawing me close. “Are you cold?”
“A little,” I admit.
We stay away from the tavern, but I still hear the drunken ruckus.
“Are the other kingdoms like this?” I wave toward the noise.
Rigel pauses and looks over my head. “There are taverns in Vernow that rival this one, as do a few of the seedier places in Triblue where the sailors frequent.”
“I don’t like it.”
We twist and turn as we make our way toward the castle.
“You would like Lauramore,” he says.
A dark arch, the entrance to an abandoned garden, stands near the entrance. I pull him into it. Once we’re hidden in the shadows, I rest my head against his shoulder. He strokes my hair.
“Tell me about Lauramore,” I say.
“The queen has large gardens outside the great hall,” he begins. “A waterfall flows right next to the palace, and it always smells like rain and flowers. The palace is lovely—built for beauty rather than strength.”
I close my eyes, trying to imagine it. “What about the other kingdoms?”
He rests his cheek on my head. “Triblue is sunny year-round. There are constantly ships on the horizon. People from every kingdom live there—and not just from Elden, but those from across the sea as well. Glendon’s people are friendly and giving—unless you’re Errintonian, of course.”
“Of course,” I murmur.
“Primewood is small and covered with evergreen forests. You would like their prince—or you would hate him. It seems to go either way.”
I laugh, wondering what that means.
“Ptarma is beautiful beyond description.”
I can’t keep the longing from my voice when I say, “You’ve been to Ptarma?”
“I’ll take you someday.”
I look up, meeting his eyes in the moonlight. “Will we have a someday?”
He lets out a slow breath, holding me closer. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“I’m proud of you for standing up to him.”
Rigel shakes his head. “It wasn’t enough. Just think of all the widows that are going to be made in the next month, of all the children who will lose their fathers. And for what?”
I know he’s remembering his own father’s death. I understand. I still miss my mother. Dragons killed them both.
While leaning against him, I allow myself to remember the day Adrinel saved me. It was early summer, like it is now, and almost warm. The fighting had moved east. We hadn’t seen any sign of the dragons in over a week.
I was young and tired of the castle, and I begged Mother to take me out. Finally, she relented. She packed a picnic and took me out into the meadow just beyond the castle gates. We sat in the sunshine, and she taught me to whistle to the birds. The beasts attacked without warning.
We weren’t armed; we weren’t a threat. Showing us no more mercy than our people had shown them, the dragons killed her as I screamed.
But when they came for me, Adrinel swept from the sky. She blocked me, roaring that I was only a child. Outnumbered three to one, she fought them. And she won.
Later she healed my wounds, but there was nothing she could do for my mother. Though I was terrified of the dragon, she swept me against her and whispered words of comfort while I mourned the loss of the one parent who loved me.
Rigel doesn’t ask why I’m crying. He only holds me close, shielding me from the night. I wrap my arms around him and wish for the millionth time I were somewhere else.
***
Father has only one guard outside his door today. That’s good.
“Is His Majesty expecting you?” the guard asks, his brow furrowing.
“No.”
He gives me a look, obviously thinking I’m mad. No one, including the princess, comes to the king’s chambers unbidden. The man shrugs, not caring what happens to me, and raps on the door. Several moments later, Zander answers.
The steward’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees me. “Seirsha? What do you need?”
“I am here to see Father.”
He shakes his head. “Your Father will not—”
“It’s fine,” Father calls. “Let her in.”
His voice sounds off, weary. I give Zander a questioning look, but he only motions me inside. The draperies are drawn, and the room is dark. I expect to find Father at his desk where he normally sits, but instead, he’s stretched on the padded bench by the hearth. There’s no fire going today, and the room feels oddly cold for summer.
“Father?”
He looks over, a wry smile on his lips. “I suppose you were going to find out eventually.”
My blood chills. “Find out what?”
“I’m dying, Seirsha.”
“He’s not dying,” Zander says sharply, his voice testy. “He had a moment.”
Father snorts a laugh. “We’re all dying Zander, but some of us have longer than others.”
Suddenly, every good memory of my father fills my mind. Granted, there aren’t many, but the ones I have are dear to me. There were times he was kind. There were times I am sure he loved me. Perhaps he is a miserable father, but he’s the only one I have.
“A moment? What does that mean?”
“It’s my heart.”
My hand seeks out my pendant. In its absence, I grasp my braid and run it through my fingers. I take a deep breath.
Father lays his head back. “And I thought you wouldn’t care.”
My stomach churns. How could he say that? It was never I who withheld affection.
He closes his eyes. “You’re a traitor as much as Rigel—you’re a traitor because of Rigel.”
I shake my head.
“You’re in love with the usurper lord.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off.
“Save your wor
ds,” he says, “I’ve watched the two of you for years. I know my own daughter’s heart.”
“He doesn’t want the crown, Father.” Seeing the pain in his face, I take several steps forward and kneel by his side. “He’s loyal. I swear it.”
Father turns his head toward me. “He defies me now in front of the nobles. That is not loyalty.”
“Please. No one wants this war.”
His icy gaze narrows. “You were supposed to keep him happy. I gave him to you—your heart’s one desire—and all I asked in return was for you to keep him quiet.”
I pull my hand away. “I can’t control his convictions.”
“You didn’t want to.”
“This sculpture is dangerous. You know that.”
Father studies me. “You came so close to perfect, Seirsha. You’re strong, controlled, distant. But your kindness makes you weak. It is a flaw, a defect. You don’t think I wanted you for my heir instead of that fool Calden? I have trained you for years. Why do you think I made you stand through every one of those blasted council meetings? Why I forced rules on you I never saddled Calden with?” He shakes his head, disgusted. “Kept you alive when you were destined to die.”
I start at his words, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“But from the time you were young,” he continues, “you have been besotted with Rigel. If I name you as heir, the moment I die, you will marry that man.”
My fingers clench into a fist. “You ignored me—you degraded me. All these years you have treated me like dirt under your feet, withholding your love, and now you say it was to help me grow? Well, let me tell you something, Father, I don’t want to be molded into you.”
Zander is about to intervene, but Father holds his hand up. “What do you want me to say, Seirsha? That I love you? Of course I do. You’re my daughter—my flesh and blood. But you defy me constantly. At first your spirit was amusing, but now it’s an irritation.”
I turn on my heel, ready to leave though I have not been dismissed.
“Why did you come?”
I pause, remembering my purpose. Already knowing his answer, I say, “I came to beg you to leave Antone be.”
With my back to him, I don’t see his face, but he lets out a disgusted snort. “Weak.”
I whip around. “Mercy is not a weakness.”
“You are not to see Rigel again.”
My fury is replaced with terror. I open my mouth to argue, but there are no words. I shake my head.
“If you defy me, I will lock you in a tower. Do not think I won’t.” He lays back. “Zander, send word to every one of my knights and guards that if the two of them are seen together, Seirsha will immediately be brought to me.” He turns back to me. “No rides, no outings, no secret trysts in the halls. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I say through gritted teeth.
But he still doesn’t understand me. As long as the threats are directed at me alone, I will not give up Rigel.
His face changes and settles into a mask of something more pleasant. “And I have shown you kindness. I could have had Antone hanged the night he helped you drag Calden’s prone body to the tavern.”
My eyes go wide. There’s no hiding my shock.
“I know everything that happens in my castle, Seirsha. I even know of a certain bishop from Glendon.”
I freeze, terrified.
He closes his eyes. “Yes, the timing was no mistake. The two of you are tenacious, I will give you that.” He looks over, a real question in his eyes. “But something plagues me. Perhaps you will indulge me with an answer. Why didn’t you kill Calden when you had the chance?”
I cross my arms, hoping to hide my fear. “It was not my place to take his life.”
Father laughs. “If only you’d had the gumption of your maid. She didn’t seem to let that stop her.”
My heart stutters. “Bea was with her mother that night.”
“Ah, perhaps she was when you left the cottage, but where was she an hour before the death bells tolled? Her family was fast asleep. However, I assure you, Bea was not in her bed.”
I stay silent, my mind reeling at the accusation.
Finished with me, Father waves his hand in dismissal. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
***
How do I go about asking Bea if she murdered the crown prince of Errinton?
My dearest friend chatters on about an old woman she and Kendal visited yesterday. She’s arranging flowers in a vase by my window. I love summer flowers. Pippa told me Archer had a greenhouse built for her, and she may grow them year-round. What a beautiful novelty that would be.
“Did you kill Calden?” I blurt out.
Bea looks up, shocked. Her hands freeze in their task, a flower suspended above the vase.
I take a deep breath and then whisper, “Did you kill him, Bea?”
Her eyes drop back to her work, and she slides the stem in with the others. When she speaks, I can barely hear her answer. “I did.”
I drop into the closest chair. The air whooshes out of my lungs, leaving me faint. “Oh, no.”
She joins me. “How did you find out?”
I meet her eyes. Hers, so vibrant and kind, are filled with terror. It’s impossible. How could she kill him?
“Father told me.”
She jolts. “How long has he known?”
“From the beginning, I believe.”
“Why I am not dead?”
I shake my head, my eyes resting on the flowers on the table. “Why did you do it?”
She bites her lip. Already, tears glisten in her eyes. “I was scared. I was scared he would remember.” She looks at me, begging me to understand. “And I was tired of living in fear. I know I shouldn’t have—I know it was wrong.”
I rub my temples. This is Bea, and I love her. I don’t know what to think.
She leans forward and clasps her hands in her lap. Tears spill down her overly pink cheeks. “I wish I hadn’t. I wish I would have left him to die in the cold. Every night the memory comes back to haunt me.”
What do I say? The punishment isn’t mine to decide; it’s Father’s. So far, he’s kept silent.
I grasp her hands, saying nothing. I hate what she’s done—but I love her, and I detested Calden. I know it was wrong, but I am so conflicted.
“Please forgive me, Seirsha.”
I nod, feeling ill. Will Father show her mercy? It’s not likely.
Needing to move, I stand. I change the subject, not wishing to speak of it again. “Father also knows about the bishop from Glendon.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Bea’s face go pale.
I look back. “What is it?”
“Rigel received a message from Prince Teagan. The bishop is missing.”
Stunned, I stare out the window. “The world is falling apart, and I feel as if we have no control over it.”
Bea joins me. “That’s because we don’t.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Now that Father has publicly announced our attack on the feral dragons, I am no longer safe in the village. The people are furious and frightened. The men worry their women and children will not be able to survive without them here, and the women and children worry about their men. And we all worry about the dragons’ wrath.
Heartsick, I wish Adrinel would return. I need her council. She’s never gone this long. Something must have happened to her.
No. I will not even consider it.
I have also been assigned a personal guard, Dryal. He is tall and handsome with blond hair and a strong jaw—the perfect specimen of a dragon slayer. Dryal’s presence is Father’s idea of a carefully plotted distraction—another sign he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.
Despite Dryal’s pleasing features, he is unfriendly and looks put out by his new duty. He is less a guard and more a keeper. Every day he stands outside my door when I am in my chambers, and he accompanies me when I leave. I am never alone.
I have
n’t seen Rigel for two weeks. The seclusion gnaws at me, eating me away from the inside. I’m edgy, nervous.
The door opens and Bea enters my chambers. “Oh, you’re already dressed.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I blow on the parchment in front of me, drying the ink.
Without a word, I hand her the paper. We don’t speak of it—she knows to whom it goes. I’m afraid Dryal’s orders include eavesdropping along with guarding. He and I both know he’s not here for my safety.
Bea takes the parchment and tucks it into a pocket at the side of her apron. She lights a fire in the hearth, sets a pot of water to boil, and gathers my nightclothes for the laundry. Once finished, she sits at the desk I just occupied. She takes my quill and scratches on a new piece of parchment.
“The army will leave in a few days,” I say as I glance at the closed door. “How is Antone?”
Bea continues to write. “He is well. We’re so proud of him for being chosen. What an honor it is.”
“A great honor.” I try to make it sound as if I believe it. Somehow, Bea is able to keep the bitterness out of her voice much better than I am.
Finally, she finishes writing, and I read over her shoulder, thankful she was interested in learning to read and write when we were children.
My family left with Archer and Pippa early yesterday morning. They should be to the border late tonight, and then they will cross into Lauramore the next morning. Pippa says her parents will give them refuge.
I take the quill from her. When do you leave?
My heart aches. I will miss my friend and the family I love as if they were my own, but this is for the best. Father chose Antone as a punishment. He’s not meant to return alive.
Kendal has been tending a sick boy. He wants to check on him again tonight, and then we will leave for Thernrow in the morning.
Every bit the man I had hoped he was, Kendal proposed to Bea two evenings ago. She accepted. They had a quiet ceremony—one I wasn’t able to attend.
It was then that Dryal informed me my Father has forbidden me from venturing into the village. Since the announcement of the attack on the dragons, the mood is increasingly hostile, he said. Which is true—but that’s not the reason I’m not allowed there now.
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