Page 35 of The Shattered King

Stepping on the leash so the beast would not wander off, I pressed my palms into the warped bars, avoiding the death lines, and commanded them to straighten, to pull upward, and to smooth, until the cage stood as a domed cube.

The death lines faded away. Then I guided the animal inside and latched the door.

I heard a great intake of breath as I returned to my room. Prince Adrinn stood, nearly knocking me over, and without further word, he departed, not even bothering to take the lantern with him.

At least in this moment, he had kept his word.

I did not want to be accused of theft, so when I reported to Renn’s suite in the morning, I brought the lantern with me.

The prince looked hale; he was finishing off a tray of breakfast. “I want to go to the training grounds today. Thom is expecting me. Does that work for—” He looked up at me, then at the lantern in my hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Your brother left it in my room last night.” I set it on the table. “I didn’t know where to return it.”

Renn blanched. Standing, breakfast forgotten, he asked, “Why was Adrinn in your room?” He came around the table and stood before me, studying me. Softer, so Sten wouldn’t hear, he asked, “Nym, are you all right? Did he ...?”

“I am perfectly fine.” I sounded like a tired grandmother. “He came to be healed.” He hadn’t asked for my discretion, so he wouldn’t have it.

Renn’s brow furrowed. “Healed for what?”

“I don’t know. But I put the rabbit back.”

He tilted his head to one side. “What rabbit?”

I shrugged and handed him the lantern. He took it, looking it over, looking me over, looking Sten over.

He set the lantern down. “Stay here,” he ordered, and left. Sten jogged to keep up with him. Hopefully they weren’t going to come to fisticuffs again—if Renn wouldn’t fear his brother’s knuckles, then he should fear my temper.

Sighing, I sat on the couch. “If I really wanted my back wages, I could just rob this place. They’ve given me a perfect opportunity to do so.”

“ Normally I would not approve, ” Ursa said, “ but in this case, I think it would be just. ”

Nearly two hours passed before Renn returned. Unfortunately for him, I had grown rather cross in that time.

“If you’re going to storm out for any notable amount of time,” I snapped, “you could tell me first. I have things I could have gotten done.” Laundry, for starters.

“I’m sorry.” He stepped aside so Sten could retake his place on the far wall. “I did not know how long it would take. We need to collect your things.”

“Pardon?”

But he was already heading out the door. “I moved your room.”

I stared at his back, the words nonsense to me, until he disappeared into the hallway. I took off after him, pushing past his tailing guards. “You did what?”

“I love my brother,” Renn said quietly, “but I don’t trust him. I especially don’t trust him lately. He makes my mother uncomfortable.”

That gave me pause. “How does he make your mother uncomfortable?”

He shook his head. “I just ... feel it. She wasn’t forthcoming when I asked.”

“Well, your mother makes everyone else uncomfortable. Seems an honest trade.”

He cast a disparaging glance at me, almost enough to convince me to apologize. “I’m moving your room. You can either cooperate or wait in mine.”

“You don’t even know where my room is!”

“I do.”

“Since when? How?”

But sure enough, he took the right stairs and halls to my little corner. Because it had no lock, as Prince Adrinn had taken advantage of, he just let himself in.

“What if my drawers are drying in there?” I protested, grabbing his elbow, but he stopped abruptly, and my nose hit his back.

“It’s so ... tiny.” He stepped forward, turning around, taking in the bed and the bag and nothing else. “Where’s your furniture?”

“You’re looking at it.” I pushed past him and snatched my bag off the floor. It held the other four dresses I owned. “As you can see, I need no assistance.”

Yet the way he looked at me had my hackles dropping. Like a man who’d just received sight and prepared to weep for it. “I didn’t know.”

Adjusting the bag on my shoulder, I mumbled, “It’s not terrible. You haven’t seen so much of the world.” I hadn’t, either, but I’d seen more than him. “There’s a room this size in my house where three of my siblings sleep. It’s normal.”

He said nothing, only surveyed the space a moment longer, then held out his hand to me. A flare of panic surged up my spine, thinking of the woods, but I realized he meant to take my bag. I handed it to him, then followed him back toward his suite—

—and to the room directly left of it.

“What? This?” I asked as Renn unlocked the door while Sten and Ard stood as burly sentinels in the hallway. Then, through my teeth, I hissed, “This is a noblewoman’s room.”

“And presently unoccupied.” He pushed the door open. Crossed the salon and pulled the curtains, shedding light on the space.

It was not as large as Renn’s—it had a small salon, about twice the size of my previous keep bedroom, and then a bedroom of similar size, with a four-poster bed and two rectangular windows with glass, but without the bars Renn’s bore.

Not a room meant to secure a royal, then. At least it would be a change of view.

“And what?” I asked, facing him. “You’re going to assign Bay and Sall to me?”

He ran a hand back through his hair. “This way I’m only a wall away.”

“A great stone wall away. Unless you’re in your bedroom, then you’re two.”

He sighed. “Nym, just let me do this for you.”

“Is this for me, or for you?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

I wilted. It wasn’t a fair one, or a clear one, that was certain. I hugged myself. “I don’t ... I don’t know what to think about this.”

“Think of it as a contribution to lost wages. And a protection of your purity.”

My hackles rose again. “What does my ‘purity’ have to do with it?”

I didn’t know whether it pleased me or mortified me that Renn carried a flush much like his mother did, high and bright on his cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean ... That is, your safety ... Stop arguing with me, Nym. I hate it.”

“You hate losing.”

“That, too.” He planted his hands on his hips. “Well. Dowsing and then training. Or do you feel like fighting me on that as well?”

Dropping my arms, I gestured to the door.

He played danerin with Sten while I picked through his lumis, then he spent the next three hours on the training grounds with Thom while I watched from the fence, pinching the agate pendant beneath my collar.

For a man who hated losing, he sure did it often in the training ring.

He got knocked over again and again, but I wasn’t supposed to interfere unless he raised a hand for help.

I was shocked the queen allowed such rough treatment of him.

Still, anyone could see Renn’s progress.

He was incredibly motivated to learn. To become what he might have been had fate dealt his cards differently.

When he finished, wincing at his new bruises and thoroughly muddied, he shook hands with Thom and limped off the training grounds.

“I’m surprised your mother tolerates this,” I offered.

“She doesn’t.” He rubbed a shoulder where he’d been struck by a training sword. “Adrinn spoke with her.”

That surprised me. “He did?”

We reached the keep, and he leaned against it, stretching his calves. Ard hovered nearby. “Adrinn spoke to our father, who spoke to her. She still hates it. That’s why she never comes out here. It makes her ... anxious.”

Perhaps I should ask to have my room moved to the training grounds, then. I’d have a veritable shield against the prickly, overprotective queen. “That was kind of him.”

“Adrinn is capable of being a good man. He has his ... vices, surely.” He stretched his other leg. “He may be a cad, but he will be a good king.”

A good king, but doubtful a good husband. Despite my evidence, the judgment felt unfair, and I didn’t voice the thought to Renn. I didn’t think he’d appreciate it.

I was about to offer to check his lumis when a trumpet sounded. It took only a few seconds for a second one to bellow, closely followed by a third, their discordant notes souring the air.

I looked to the castle turrets but spied none of the heralds.

“What is that for?”

Renn had tensed beside me. “I don’t know.

We only panic if it sounds four times.” He considered.

“Come.” He reached for my hand, then quickly pulled back, the scorn of our picnic still fresh.

I pretended as if I didn’t notice the gesture, nor the chill that settled oddly into my skin.

He led the way into the keep. I followed in his shadow, Ard behind me.

Sten was at the window in the stairs and, after Renn told him, “Great Hall,” he took the lead.

The deeper we moved into the castle, the more frantic it became; servants rushing to and fro, noise building in the bailey.

We’d just passed the Lords’ Hall when Queen Winvrin rushed up the corridor, lifting her skirts to better her speed.

Her drawn face shimmered with perspiration, and when she saw Renn, her eyes rolled back in relief.

I almost thought she meant to faint. So did Sten, apparently, for he lunged forward to steady her, releasing her arm only when the queen assured him she was fine.

“All of you to the tunnel now.” She slid by Sten and physically pushed Renn back the way we had come.

I had no idea what tunnel she referred to.

“Mother. Mother. ” Renn planted his heels and seized the queen’s wrists. “What is going on?”

She looked at me. Worry glinted in her pale eyes, setting me on edge. Then she focused on Renn and answered, breathless, “The king of Sesta is here. Adoel Nicosia is at our gates.”