Page 45 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

“Father made his choice,” Callinora said.

“And I had to obey. My husband, in exchange for our people.” She bit her bottom lip, again keeping her opinion on the decision to herself.

“I can give you a ship disguised as a merchant vessel and a small crew to accompany you. As for why I have confidence in you specifically to free my husband…”

Her eyes panned to Dean and Raidinn, examining them like one might a herd of race horses before purchase.

“My husband wasn’t captured strictly for his position.

Enitha has very specific tastes. And you two, well, you fit the description.

” She stopped, then zeroed in on Dean. “Especially you, I might add. The resemblance is uncanny.”

She tossed this last statement away like an afterthought.

“Hold on,” Ingrid said, stammering for more clarity. “Resemblance to who? Your husband?”

“Correct.”

Tyla could only laugh, “So you saw us out there. Saw Dean , I should say, and you couldn’t help but think of the ways you could use us. A small band of desperate outsiders like us would have no choice but to accept, right?”

Callinora didn’t flinch. “We’re talking about my husband. So, yes, I saw the opportunity, and I took it.”

Slowly, everyone turned their attention to the male in question.

“I don’t think my resemblance will matter,” Dean said dryly. “I mean, Raidinn here, he is the far superior flirt.”

It took a moment for the hint to land, but when it did, Raidinn erupted. “Hey! I’m not some whore!” He leaned close to Dean and his sister, adding, “Despite what you two have heard.”

“I’m not asking you to whore yourself.” Callinora shook her head. “I’m only asking you to distract her. If you present yourselves as merchants selling exotic jewels—which, luckily, is another one of Enitha’s vices, then she will welcome you into her court with open arms.”

The princess gave a friendly nod to Tyla and Ingrid, “Meanwhile, you ladies can find and retrieve my husband. He will be easy to locate. I’m told he never leaves Enitha’s side.

No jail cell holds him. Nor is he guarded.

Enitha poisoned his mind, you see, making him believe he wants to be there. So I imagine he’ll be easy to sway.”

“She’s a Magus?” Dean asked angrily.

Callinora held up her hand, pleading for patience.

“She is. But her influence lies in her trickery. Not her power. I assure you, once in her court, you will be able to move freely. If you give her no reason to try and manipulate you into doing what she wants, she won’t waste any power infecting your mind. ”

Dean and Raidinn kept stone-like faces, listening.

“I will provide everything you need,” Callinora said. “And my father will delay any decisions until word of your success, or your failure, reaches his ears.”

“And if we refuse?” Raidinn mused.

Callinora started into a slow, elegant stroll to her bed, plopping herself on her cloud-like duvet and placing a hand over her forehead.

“Then you have two choices. Go elsewhere, or estrange yourself from the only person standing between you and those conniving, Earth-hating snobs my father calls advisors.” She raised her head up, as if something just occurred to her.

“Oh, and I’ll need an answer by sunrise tomorrow. ”

“Sunrise?” Dean asked incredulously, gears already grinding in his mind. He was already on edge, and now he was expected to make a decision involving the lives of his team within just twelve hours.

Callinora nodded in answer, flipped herself on her side, then flicked the silver service bell that had been hung permanently under her wooden bookshelf.

Two knocks instantly rapped on the door, but Callinora didn’t move.

It was Ingrid who finally asked the princess for the key, received it silently, and let the two lady’s maids inside.

“See our guests to their rooms,” Callinora ordered.

The maids stepped to the side and offered a hand, ready to lead them.

Tyla was the first to make for the door, closely followed by her brother.

Dean stood stubbornly for a moment, clenching his fist, yet decided finally on a bow before he started to leave.

But Ingrid—Ingrid stayed put.

That thought she’d stashed concerning Callinora’s whereabouts earlier that day, it was now begging to be explored.

“I have one more question.” She strutted brazenly to the enormous bed, pausing for dramatics as she parked herself directly next to the princess without permission.

Callinora rustled, but smirked with amusement as she took in the show of arrogance. A show, just like the one the princess herself had put on in the throne room.

“Ask away,” she purred, not yet giving Ingrid the respect of sitting up.

“You say that your father would rather ally with Wranes than world-walkers?”

“You heard that right,” Callinora confirmed after a moment of contemplation.

“And you claim your father won’t quit. If he truly wanted to make peace with Makkar, then he’d have done it already?”

Callinora leaned in, propping herself up on an elbow. Her face had resorted to that cold indifference once again. “What is your point, girl?”

“Well, your majesty, my point is that I don’t believe you.”

The worry and intrigue from Ingrid’s friends burned brightly from the other side of the room. All eyes were on her, waiting anxiously.

“I think you want the throne for yourself,” Ingrid continued.

“And before you try and convince me otherwise, think about what you said. You almost wanted us to figure it out. You said your father thinks our army is full of cowards.” She wiped her hands together as if she’d just accomplished something easy.

“This business about rescuing your husband, it won’t change his mind.

You made that up. I think Nestor might not even care about having an heir.

He is a peaceful ruler. He has avoided war at all costs.

Meaning, he’d probably want his successor to be the same, no matter if he was related to him or not. Am I right?”

Callinora sat upright in anger, scowling at her ungrateful subordinate. She flashed a white smile that felt sinister under her violent eyes. Dean closed the gap in no time, readying to separate the females, and Tyla and Raidinn soon joined his side.

But then… then something strange happened.

Something no one saw coming. Not even, it seemed, the princess.

In a flash, Callinora burst into laughter so loud and unbecoming of a Viator in her position that it unsettled even her maids standing at the door.

“Please,” the princess said in between snorts. “Go on. Is there more?”

Ingrid nodded and pushed through, all too happy to oblige. “You were walking the city when you found us at the gate. Which wouldn’t be that odd… if the guards hadn’t apologized for not knowing you were outside the safety of the castle walls. You snuck out. And, I’m guessing you do that a lot.”

Callinora nodded silently.

“You were out among the people. Your people. When your father was grieving his son, you chose to spend time with the civilians. Because you’ve found common ground.

You are all growing tired of the unpredictable nature of the king.

So you found the few underground spots safe enough in Maradenn for people to gather and speak freely. ”

Ingrid scanned Callinora, but didn’t find any signs of submission.

She continued. “You meet with them in a bar, or a pub, or whatever you call it here—I’m sure of that.

I smelled the liquor on you as you first walked by us.

At first, I thought you were drinking away your grief.

But I’ve been around drunks long enough to know a sober person when I see one.

Someone spilled a drink on you. On the hem of your dress, and on the top of your shoe.

I noticed the fibers from the rag you used to try and clean it off.

That’s why you changed when you came up here. ”

Callinora yawned. “Is there a conclusion to this? Or are you just showing off?”

Ingrid shifted on the bed, getting more comfortable.

“My point is, you’re not just discussing your father, you’re talking with the people about his high council, too.

They’re taking advantage of your father’s grief.

It’s what politicians do. They want what is best for themselves.

That is why your husband hasn’t been brought home.

That is why your father won’t go to war, even after losing his son.

It was you who went to war. You, and your brother.

You two wanted to fight. Wanted to rule.

And now that your brother is gone, you need your husband to help you take the crown from your father.

You need your husband at your side to get the full support of the people, and to turn the opinion of the higher-ups.

A king and queen united are a much easier sell than an ambitious princess on her own. ”

Ingrid looked to Tyla, Dean, Raidinn, and was greeted with encouraging faces. All their hesitance and anxiety had been replaced by inspired curiosity.

“But that’s not why you took us inside to meet with your father,” Ingrid said, looking around the decadent room, the overwhelming view.

“It’s not why you brought us up here. You did that because you needed to make sure.

Needed to make sure we weren’t hired by the council.

When you saw us outside, that was your first thought.

Our oddly timed arrival, the cheap trick of finding someone that resembled your husband, it had to be planned.

That’s why you made an appearance in front of the guards when you could’ve easily snuck back in the same way you snuck out.

You knew it was the smart move. You figured your father’s advisors had found out about your visits to the city.

Your secret meetings with the people. You thought they’d laid a trap.

So, you walked into that trap as innocently as possible.

You heard Raidinn’s booming cries for help—well, I mean, who couldn’t hear him? ”

Raidinn let a small chuckle escape him, but small for Raidinn was large for any average-sized person.

Ingrid pointed to him as evidence. “Exactly. You heard that . And you thought we were a trap. A clever way of revealing your true intentions to your father. Send a group of outsiders claiming that they can help in the war, and see how the princess reacts. See if she yells and curses her father. See if the resentment building inside her is finally unleashed. It’s exactly what those conniving snobs would do, right? You suspected them immediately.”

Callinora was still steadfast, yet this newest bit of speculation caused sparks in her wide eyes.

“You made a few comments about how strong your father was, how he might change his mind, how he’d seek revenge.

Making sure that if we were spies, you’d be safe from any negative words getting back to him.

Then once you’d covered your ass, you decided to try and get something out of us.

If we were colluding with the council, then the report would tell the tale of a loyal, heartbroken wife trying to rescue her husband without risking her kingdom’s safety.

And if we weren’t undercover, and we really were as desperate as we said, then we’d go off on a suicide mission to find your husband. A win-win.”

After she’d finished, Ingrid felt slightly out of breath. She’d been sure of her hypothesis before, but now that it had all come streaming out of her so naturally, so quickly, she couldn’t have been more confident.

The threads seemed to be connected somewhere outside of her, snatched from the crisp Ealis air. And although she couldn’t say this, not here, not now, her observations had been seemingly guided by that same sense that had shown her visions of the ancient symbols.

Something was showing her the way. Power or not, being in Ealis was changing her, fine-tuning the hypersensitivity she’d suffered from back on Earth.

After another moment of contemplative silence, Callinora stood, chillingly quiet, and walked to the reading nook Ingrid had been so enamored with when first entering.

Pouring herself an odd, crystal blue drink from a glass decanter that sat on the table next to the fireplace, she said to her lady’s maids, “Olli. Serafina. I trust you won’t say a word of this to the others, will you?”

The maids nodded, making a great show of their loyalty.

“Good,” Callinora said. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”