Page 42 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

Fourteen

I woke in fits and starts, first opening my eyes to a red-tinged world that I could not focus on.

Voices muffled and far away. "Let me deal with the fucking consequences, Aben. I won't leave her until I know she'll wake." Io's voice. I would know it anywhere.

"She will wake, cousin." Aben, of course.

"She lost a lot of blood." A female voice I could not place. It was not Britaxia. Was it Master Juriae's wife? I could not seem to remember her name.

"She will wake." Aben again.

The voices grew more and more muffled, and then I began to dream again.

Soft hands on my brow, sweet female words in my ear, and sleep—peaceful and healing.

"She ran for almost two miles," someone argued, and I snapped awake more fully that time, blinking away the red-tinted world to find a room, a bed, and a head of dark hair tipped forward over open palms.

I reached my hand out, pleased to find my arms had returned, but the best I could manage was to graze my finger against his sleeve.

It was enough. His head shot up, and his eyes found mine. They flooded with relief.

He took my hand. "How do you feel?" His face was haggard, his eyes somehow haunted.

"I'm fine," I said hoarsely. "Did I hit my head?"

I reached up to check for injury.

He sighed. "No, Sera. You did not hit your head."

"What happened? I got away, and I remember I ran too hard and...I got dizzy."

He suddenly looked very angry. I was confused by the reaction. "What?" I asked, pushing myself up to sit.

He reached out to help me, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Someone cut your throat from ear to fucking ear, Sera. You nearly bled out before I found you."

I narrowed my eyes, reaching up to my throat. Had those men found me at the Mouse's Ear and finished the job they started?

"That..." I struggled to piece together what I remembered. "That doesn't make any sense, Io."

"You're gods damned right it doesn't make sense. Britaxia followed a trail of blood for almost two miles. You should be dead, Sera."

I wrapped my fingers around my throat. It was whole, unbroken.

"I healed you. But it was really fucking close." He still looked angry, and I finally registered that he was angry at me.

I chose to ignore it. My mind had no room for his misplaced fury.

I studied him, frowning. I had been nicked by that knife, it was true, but...

But then I remembered pulling away from the man holding me. There had been a biting pain when the pressure of the knife dug into my throat as I stabbed him.

My heart lurched as I noticed the sunshine filtering in around the closed curtains. "How long have I been here?"

"It's just after dawn. You slept for a long time after losing so much blood."

"I have to get back," I said, pushing my feet from under the blanket.

Io put a hand on my shoulder, stilling me. "It's okay. We sent word to the castle. Tatana is covering for you. She said no one will know you're not in your room."

I furrowed my brow.

"A rather enterprising young man called Set has been providing us with a lot of information."

I smiled. I should have known. "Something is happening with my uncle. He all but locked me in my chambers. And the way he unceremoniously kicked you all out of the castle...I don't trust him in the slightest."

"We thought as much. Juriae has some eyes and ears in the castle, learning what they can. But by all accounts, it seems more jealousy over the events that unfolded in the battle than anything else."

That made sense. Markus was nothing if not jealous of the bravery of others. If he learned that the soldiers had cheered for the dragon mages, he would likely end the possibility of an alliance right then and there, even in the face of war, rather than allow them to find any glory in Windemere.

Now, more than ever, I needed to take my crown. I needed to remove the thorn from the side of everyone in Windemere and...I looked at Io.

I needed to use the advantage I had with him to cement an alliance that might carry us through the coming conflict.

The weight of what I would need to do to even take my crown—marry someone and do it quickly, even if it was someone I would end up despising, crashed down on me all at once. I looked away and swallowed.

I had done a damn fine job of forgetting that as I plotted to get closer to the man at my side. Shame threatened to steal my breath as I considered the duty to my people that I had all but forgotten these past days.

And now that I knew Penjan was certainly on the move toward Windemere, I needed to re-focus. We needed Nightfall. That battle with the band of dead men proved as much.

So I told him everything I knew. I watched Io's face as I relayed the information the guard, Fenric, had given me.

Some of it, like the confirmed fall of Balus, I could tell he already knew.

But other things, like the Stoneteeth tribes, or the fact that the king himself sailed to Alterra, he did not.

When I finished, Io added to my information something that made all the rest pale in comparison. "We got word this morning that the Black Fleet burned Caraduin."

"Burned it?" I asked, my voice a near whisper. Caraduin was an island nation that produced a huge portion of the world's grain. It was second only to Windemere in terms of food production.

He nodded, sorrowfully. "They burned it all," he confirmed.

"Why?" I asked, struggling to understand why an invading army would burn so much wheat when their own men would need to be fed just as surely as any other army would.

"Perhaps to strike terror in the hearts of the world? To create a stranglehold on the food supply? Who can say why evil people do evil things?"

I stared at the wall, my eyes glued to the pattern of swirls. The image of the godsgrass burning across the kingdom, from the Sorn to the Thyella, seemed momentarily superimposed on the cheerful yellow wallpaper.

He continued, "I need to get word to my brother. Windemere needs the armies of Nightfall."

I shot my gaze to his. "Will he help us?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.

His jaw was a tense, hard line as he considered. "I can't say. My brother was once very reliable, but since he took the throne, the weight of duty has changed him, as duty so often does. But even if he is inclined to offer aid, he will have to answer to the lords of Nightfall."

My face must have registered some of the fear that was slowly building inside me, because he grasped my chin in his hand and tipped my face up.

"Whatever my brother decides, Aelia of Windemere, you will not stand alone. Darkwatch will be with you."

I was shocked. I was considering how I might use what had developed between us to my advantage—considering how I might manipulate him into helping my people—and here he was offering his dragon riders for my defense.

Even in my ignorance, I knew Darkwatch didn't have enough soldiers to take on an army of that size—one that might number in the millions. Yet, he was pledging his riders to my cause.

I looked down at my hands as shame and terror mixed with the honor of his words.

"Come," he said, taking my hand and pulling me up from the bed. He put a hand to my back to steady me as my wobbly legs found their strength. "If you're up to it, I would like to introduce you to someone."

Mistress Cazmiri Duraehr brought me clothes and banished Io from the room as she fussed over me, helping me put myself back in order. I realized her voice was one I'd heard while I was still half unconscious.

"Are you certain you feel well enough to go out?

" she asked in her deep, velvet voice. She had only a hint of a northern accent.

"Men can be terribly thoughtless when it comes to our comfort.

You should see the boat Juriae had planned to bring me here on.

Little more than a longship! I had to put my foot down. "

I smiled at her reassuringly. "Thank you, Mistress. I feel fine, and Io is nothing if not thoughtful."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and I wondered if perhaps I’d made a mistake by being too informal and calling him Io. Or whether the idea of him being thoughtful was what she reacted to.

She made no remark either way as she handed me a stack of clothing.

Cazmiri and I were of a similar size and shape, and by the time I was dressed, I was amazed at what I saw in the mirror.

She had deftly braided my hair back and pulled out little curls to artfully frame my face.

I wore a lovely blouse with flowing sleeves gathered at the wrists, cut to a feminine shape so that the buttons lay perfectly down the front in a neat row without hanging limply off my chest as my men's shirts always did.

The trousers were cut similarly, high waisted and made for a woman’s body in the way they covered my hips and encased my long legs. "I've never even seen pants made for a woman before," I told her, smiling at her face in the mirror behind me.

"That is hard to believe," she said, holding out a soft, dark-green hooded coat so that I could slide my arms inside. "Do they really expect you to wear gowns for everything, even riding and hunting?"

I laughed as I pulled the lapels of the jacket around me. "We delicate females are not permitted to go hunting," I told her.

"You will like it in Nightfall, I believe," she said, giving me a sly grin.

At my quizzical look, she added, "If you ever come to visit us there, I mean. We appreciate the strengths of women as much as the more brutal strengths of men."

"I hope that my reign will see Windemere learning to do the same," I told her, feeling a knot of unexpected emotion form in my throat.

She led me from the room, but just before we passed through the door, she reached out to take my hand. She studied the gold plated mellitrium cuff at my wrist.

"Why do you wear this—" she wrinkled her nose as though just speaking of it was offensive. "—this metal?" she finished.