Page 109 of Thorns and Echoes

Three steps and she stood inches from him. “Do you trust me? Do you trust Octavius?”

His gaze softened slightly, but not his tone. “If and when Octavius is certain the trance and compulsion are both removed, I will reassess.”

But he didn't trust her.

She moved around him to the scrolls, unraveling one that she had no intention of reading.

Vern considered her judgment compromised.

Her mother wouldn't have put Castien in a cell. She would have put him down. Betrayal had been unforgivable to Jana. Both of them saw the world in such stark and simple clarity. But the world wasn't simple.

Jana had never taken a Consort because she had refused to accept Vern. She had loved him, yet had forced a distance between them. Perhaps she had done it to protect her heart, to protect him, or some other combination of reasons. She had shown her loyalty by rejecting everyone who courted her – dukes, princes, wealth, and power.

Their love had been enough for them. It wasn't enough for Anais.

If her heart misguided her, she didn't want to walk the ‘correct’ path. She knew then that if the path to Castien's happiness led to the destruction of her throne, her country, her people – even the world – she would still walk it to the end.

Because if love was the wrong choice, she didn't want to make the right one.

Two heavy knocks brought her out of her contemplation. She set down the scroll as Octavius entered. The healer bowed.

“Welcome home, my Queen. How is your leg?”

Now, he greeted her. She sighed. “Well enough. What have you discovered about your patient?”

He grimaced, a faint blush of red coloring his cheeks. She was glad for it – Octavius didn't see Castien in the same light as Vern.

He bowed again, the show of obeisance unnecessary outside of court. “I am still studying Frances' notes. As I hoped, the possibility is there, but the problem is delicate. A stable mind would handle the transition better. He is not stable.”

She stared at Vern. “And do you consider his time in the dungeons beneficial for his stability, Octavius?”

The uncomfortable twist of the healer’s lips reappeared. Then his chin lifted, and he said, “When it comes to your life, my Queen, I cannot fail. I trust the steward's judgement.”

Vern ruled both the court and her Escorts in her absence. Octavius had been following orders.

“You didn't fail, Escort.” Her eyes on Vern were as cold as the shackles on Castien’s wrists. Her tone became quiet, almost soft. “If I lose him, you lose me.”

Vern stilled. “Which is the only reason he is alive.”

The darkness roared. She shook her head. “Don’t.”

“If I were him, I would have–”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare say it!” She glared at him. “And you would not. I do not allow it. Do you understand? Your life is mine!”

All she wanted was to protect those close to her from harm, but she could not protect them from themselves.

Pain sliced her palm as her claws curled. She waved aside whatever Vern was about to say. “Enough. I wish to speak to Octavius alone.”

The steward shut his mouth. He bowed and walked out.

As soon as Vern left, her icy stare fixed on Octavius. The stout man met her gaze unflinchingly.

He spoke first. “I agree with Vern, my Queen. We don’t understand what’s happened to him, what he’s capable of. We don’t know who might have been given his trance words. He should remain under heavy guard.”

Anais hadn’t considered that anyone outside of Yelena’s court might be aware of the trance. If the Nadraken Queen had shared the words with her spies, Castien would be as dangerous as both he and Vern believed. But the vicious bitch wouldn’t give anyone else control over her ‘prize’. Not if Yelena thought she had a chance of recapturing him. “He will be. Here, where he'll also be safe and have a chance to heal. Would you deny him that?”

Slowly, her healer nodded. “Familiar and friendly faces would help. He needs fresh air. And he trusts you.”