Page 20 of Her Cruel Redemption (The Dark Reflection #3)

Chapter Twenty

I t was cold and drizzly when we arrived in Sarmiers, with grey clouds tumbling across the sky overhead, choking out the afternoon sunlight. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but the sight of the sooty buildings clustered beneath the outer wall disappointed me. It looked no different to Lee Helse, and I couldn’t even see a hint of the ocean I’d heard so much about. Perhaps there had been some na?ve part me that had expected something more romantic of a foreign city by the sea, but it looked like more of what I’d spent my whole life around: clotheslines flapping in the brisk wind, horse shit in the streets, a child by the side of the road with big, liquid eyes who was holding out a hand and begging for coins in a hopeless whisper.

As the carriage rolled towards the city gates, I eyed Gwinellyn. She was seated across from me, next to Elias, staring out the window. She looked calm. Determined. I hoped she was ready to do what she’d come here for; to wrangle a court of exiles to heel and convince a foreign king to throw his lot in with hers. No small task.

‘I can smell the sea,’ Daethie said next to me, and when I glanced at her she had her eyes closed, a faint smile on her face. Like she was tasting a delicacy, savouring the flavour. I sniffed, trying to pick out what she smelled. There was a taint to the air, I supposed. Something fresh and brisk and bracing. Perhaps it really was the sea, but I’d never been anywhere near the coast so I wouldn’t have known either way.

I eyed the city that rose up around us as we passed through the gates, trying to spot differences. The buildings were lighter-coloured than those in Lee Helse, constructed mostly of pale stone, and the streets were busy despite the drizzle of rain. We pushed through thicker and thicker traffic as we went, carriages and horses and pedestrians aplenty, despite the wide streets. I didn’t catch my first sight of the ocean until we were far enough into the city that the walls were no longer visible. We crested a rise, and on the other side the ground sloped down towards the edge of a sharp cliff, upon which the many turrets and towers of a pastel-coloured palace spilled out, looking like it was hanging on the verge of plummeting over the brink. And beyond it, the ocean, steel-grey and swirling with white crests that rose and fell as I watched. That bracing smell was stronger now, blown in on a wet, cold wind that found its way around the door of the carriage to chill our skin.

The carriage slowed down as the captain who’d brought us in pulled up beside the window and knocked on the glass.

‘That’s Bright Keep, princess. The palace,’ he called through the glass. Unnecessarily. What else could that monstrosity be? Gwinellyn nodded and smiled, though. When we arrived at Bright Keep, that chill, salty wind attacked us as soon as the carriage door opened. I wrapped my arms tighter around my torso as we stepped out, and I watched as the rest of our party climbed out of the one that had pulled in behind us, considering anew that slippery way it felt to look at Tanathil, with his disguise of magic doing funny things with light and shadow. The others were no better. We’d been able to get away with their disguises on the road, where we weren’t spending much time in one place or with any people beyond our own party, but here?

‘Maybe you should wait until you know what kind of reception we’re going to get before you bring the others before Oceatold’s king,’ I said, leaning into Gwinellyn to speak the words quietly. ‘There’ll be druthi here, and others who might be more skilled at seeing through their tricks than the people we passed on the road. Make sure you can protect them before you take the risk.’

She lifted her chin, looking like she was ready to disagree, but then she took another, longer look at her companions. She bit her lip. Nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. A moment later, she was issuing instructions to Elias and the driver of one of the coaches to find the closest lodgings to the palace and then send word of where they were, and then the two of us were being ushered up the steps of the grand entranceway. I hesitated a moment before I went in, lingering on the last step. Touched my fingers to the mottled skin of my face. I’d been so fixed on getting Gwinellyn here that I hadn’t stopped to think of what it would be like for me to be immersed in this world of crowns and politics again. I knew the reception I was about to receive would be frosty at the very least, hostile most likely. Who had made it over the border? Whose accusations and malice would I be facing on the other side of these doors.

As we passed through the entrance into the hall beyond, a man I could only assume was King Esario strode down a staircase before us with his arms spread wide, cape fanning out behind him and a beaming smile on his face.

‘Gwinellyn! Welcome,’ he boomed, taking one of her hands when he reached her and kissing it. He was the sort of man who had a presence larger than himself, filling the entrance hall with his vitality. He was ruddy-cheeked and broad-figured, with a deep-timbered voice that carried without any need for projection magic. He was dressed in deep, rich blues with gold buckles on his cape and his boots, and an ivory sash around his waist. I compared him to his brother as I watched him, seeing little in his manners that resembled Tallius. They were both fair, and perhaps they shared a straight, defined nose, but he seemed to hold himself with more good humor. Less sour superiority. He stood back and took Gwinellyn in. ‘You are not the girl you were when last I saw you.’

‘A lot has happened since then. I’ve come to plead for refuge here,’ Gwinellyn said, her voice wavering a little. I watched her closely, watched the slight rounding of her shoulders, the way some of that confidence I’d seen in the Living Valley shrivelled, the way that determined young woman I’d seen on the road who made decisions and took the lead and held me to account grew translucent, showing that timid seventeen-year-old underneath. And now Prince Tallius—her would-be fiancé-- had reached the bottom of the steps and was walking towards her, and I felt like I needed to pull her around a corner and give her a shake. She needed to master herself and she needed to do it now if she wanted them to see her as an equal instead of someone they could use in whichever way furthered their agendas.

‘Thank Aether you’re alive,’ Prince Tallius said as he joined his brother and took Gwin’s hand, offering her a smile that could almost be called warm, if it weren’t for those ice chip eyes. ‘When we heard you’d been seen on the road here, we didn’t know whether to believe it.’

‘But the stories kept coming!’ King Esario added with a laugh, clapping his brother on the shoulder. ‘Little Princess Snow White, not killed by Creatish spies after all, but trekking through a war zone on her way to join her exiled court here in Oceatold! Explain yourself, I beg you. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to make sense of it all.’

‘She will,’ I said, finally breaking my silence and stepping forward, bristling at the way he’d called her little Princess Snow White. ‘But we’ve had a long journey, Your Majesty. Princess Gwinellyn needs rest. I’m sure you’ll be kind enough to grant us your hospitality.’ A moment to rest. A moment for me to prepare her the way I should have been on the road. She shot me a shamefaced glance before turning her gaze to the ground.

Both men turned their attention to me, Esario with his eyebrows slightly raised as he took me in, clearly trying to place me now that I’d marked myself as someone who had the gall to address him directly. Tallius’s gaze combed my face, taking in the scars, before a slow smile spilled across his mouth.

‘This is not quite the woman I remember,’ he said, ‘but I think I we’re being addressed by Rhiandra Soveraux.’

I flinched with shock. Then rage tore through me, hot and sharp, hissing that name through my blood. Soveraux. My focus, my fury, narrowed on Tallius, his pale lips twisted with scorn, blond eyelashes over widening eyes. ‘Don’t call me by his name,’ I snarled, barely an inch from his face. I must have moved towards him. I didn’t even realise.

‘Why not?’ he spat, the congeniality falling from him in a flash, dropping like a cloak. ‘It is your name, isn’t it?’

No one had ever called me by it. Not once. I’d never even heard the words strung together. My reason caught up with me, beating down the reactive fury with a realisation. Tallius knew that name. Draven’s name. He had been Martalos at court, and once he was king his last name had ceased being referenced at all. I only knew the name Soveraux from that carriage ride after our secret wedding, when I’d demanded he tell me his real name. Had he dropped the pretence himself? What else did they know about him?

‘You’re going to need to explain what you’re doing in my city, madam,’ King Esario said, and his brows were drawn low, his face turned hard. I stepped away from Tallius as my anger cooled. My heart was pounding so hard I felt lightheaded. In my peripherals, I could see the guards stationed around the edges of the room drawing closer, hands going to weapons. They were going to arrest me. They’d execute me for whatever treason they assumed I’d committed. I was the wife of the man who was waging a war against them, the queen who had ruled when that war had begun.

‘She is here as my ally and protector.’

All three of us turned to Gwinellyn. She had straightened up, her shoulders rolling back to draw herself up to her full height. And as much as she acted small, she was tall in stature.

‘If it weren’t for Rhiandra,’ she continued, her voice steadier than it had been a moment ago, ‘I wouldn’t be alive. I can guarantee her character and her loyalty, as I can for all my travelling companions.’

Esario stared at her a long moment. Long enough that the magic in my blood began to rise, turning hot as I braced for his reaction. Then he nodded. ‘I sense a story here somewhere,’ he said, good-humoured once again, as though he hadn’t been about to throw me in a dungeon. ‘You’ll have to treat us to it as soon as you’ve rested.’

I could read his steely subtext. I want an explanation. I was going to find out whether others would buy my tale of enchantment as readily as Gwinellyn had.

But for now, the hostility was swept away and Oceatold’s king was all manners and generosity, ushering forth servants and giving orders about rooms and food and baths and clothing.

‘You mentioned companions, yes?’ he said as he led us down a hall lined with massive paintings of seascapes and ships and battles. One depicted a broad-chested commander with his foot atop a pile of the dead. I paused there for a moment when I saw the slits in the necks of the bodies, not the wounds of a blade but organic and grossly exaggerated, if the creature I’d seen in the menagerie once was anything to go by. They were gills. And peering closer, I could see webbed fingers, the strangely cloudy eyes.

‘Charming,’ I muttered to myself.

‘We have a long coastline.’

The voice behind me made me start, and I turned on Prince Tallius, who was standing too close.

‘And the Bire Isles aren’t far from it. Raids from the Morwar Toth are more commonplace here than in Brimordia,’ he continued. Then he slid his icy gaze to me. ‘Did you know your husband has an alliance with them?’

‘No,’ I said simply, tone bland, all too aware that my recent burst of temper would do nothing to help our cause here. I had to tolerate this scornful prince with as much grace as I could muster.

He curled his lip. ‘An alliance of fall spawn and gill rats and the king slayers from the east. You must have kept some interesting bedfellows while you were playing the queen to such a creature.’

‘None more interesting than I’m keeping now,’ I replied with a saccharine smile.

His expression soured further. ‘Don’t get too comfortable. You won’t be here for long if I have anything to say about it.’

I leaned in a little, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. ‘Then it’s a good thing you don’t have much say, isn’t it?’ I moved away before he could reply, trailing along after Gwinellyn and the king with my chin lifted. It was difficult to imagine what the effervescent Senafae saw in such a smarmy prick. Well, other than money and status. A prince was a fine catch for any maisera, even if he was only a spare heir to a lineage blessed with many sons. But at the thought of Senafae, I immediately wished I hadn’t been so antagonistic with Tallius. I could have asked him about her, found out where she was living in Oceatold, if she was still with him. She might even be here in Bright Keep. But if I asked him now, he’d likely take pleasure in withholding the information. I’d have to see what I could find out through other means.

The king showed us to the suite of rooms on the second floor of the palace, one overlooking a bright internal courtyard and buzzing with servants readying the space for guests. He promised us rest and privacy for the night, with a casual mention of assembling his council and the most prominent members of Brimordia’s renegade court in the morning, which drained all the colour from Gwinellyn’s face. Then we were left to enjoy the food and tea laid out for us in private.

And the food . I crammed a plate full of cakes and pastries and quail eggs and bacon , inhaling the heady smell of coffee with a sigh. Aether knew I’d missed palace luxury. I couldn’t wait to sink into a hot bath full of scented oils and curl up in silken sheets.

‘What do you think Elias and the others are doing?’ Gwinellyn asked as I ate. She’d barely put any food in her mouth, though she’d taken a soft white roll and torn it into little pieces.

‘Probably the same thing we are,’ I replied, adding sugar to my coffee.

‘Maybe we should bring them here,’ she continued after a few more moments of ripping the pieces of the roll into still smaller pieces. ‘It feels wrong to be away from them.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m sure lover boy can be parted from you for one night.’ She blushed and I laughed as I plucked up a rasher of bacon and laid it on her plate. ‘Eat. You’re pale and you’ll need your strength to wrestle the king of Oceatold’s assembly of idiots tomorrow.’

She picked up the rasher with her fingers and nibbled the end of it. ‘I’m sure Esario would be happy to house the others as well.’

I sobered at that, considering her with a sigh. ‘I wouldn’t go bringing them anywhere near the Oceatold court until you’ve established some authority that can protect them. If anyone discovers they’re from the Yawn, there’ll be trouble. You don’t want to put them in danger,’ I said, thinking of the disgust with which Tallius spoke of Draven’s alliance with fall spawn and gill rats.

She slumped lower in her seat. ‘You’re right.’

‘Of course I am. But take it as a little motivation. The sooner you can bring your court to heel and show Esario that you’re a force to be reckoned with, the sooner you’ll be able to ensure that no one touches your friends.’

She nodded down at her plate. I hoped she would rally after a good night’s sleep and show more of that determination and shining belief in her purpose I’d come to admire in her. She was going to need it.