Page 48

The climb to the Sky Palace had taken an eternity in the mule-drawn wagon, but Alexandra would not give him leave until they reached the top. “Go discover the answers to your questions,” she said, eyes taking in the rush of servants and soldiers in the courtyard. “I will go find answers to my own.”

James did not need to be told twice. In his periphery, he saw Georgie appear, but he wasn’t interested in conversation with his friend, so he crossed the courtyard in quick strides and headed into the palace. The servants directed him to find his father in his study.

“What is going on?” he demanded even as his father said, “Where the bloody hell have you been? George sent riders in search of you.”

“I crossed paths with Alexandra on the highway, and she insisted I travel with her back to Verwyrd.”

“She’s here, then?”

“Just returned.”

Irritation flickered across his father’s face, but he made no comment.

James sat in the chair across from him. “She told me that—”

His father held up a hand. “Never mind Alexandra for now. Her time for meddling is drawing to a close.” Pouring a glass of wine from the decanter on the table, his father pushed it toward him. “Drink and listen, because, my boy, we’ve done it. After all these years, we’ve finally achieved your mother’s dream.”

James didn’t take a sip. He downed the full glass, then filled it again and downed another before he was able to say, “What do you mean?”

“I was not hunting at Whitewood Hall,” his father said. “I was meeting in person with Ronan.”

Reaching into his coat, his father withdrew a rolled document, handing it over. “An alliance between Harendell and Cardiff, the first of its kind.”

“He agreed?” James unrolled the paper, eyes skipping over the words to the familiar signature of his uncle Ronan, scarcely able to believe it was done. That the endless back-and-forth between his father and his uncle was over, and the real work could finally begin. “How? You…”

“I believe Ronan finally accepted that if he wanted this, he needed to bend. It’s signed and done, and when I announce the alliance tonight, I will also change the law allowing persecution of those who practice astromancy. If any Harendellian kills a Cardiffian for reasons of their faith, it will be murder. And they will hang.”

If James hadn’t been already sitting, this would have brought him to his knees. No more burnings. No more senseless killings. And anyone who made the mistake of breaking the law would find themselves on the sharp end of his blade.

“And the border?” he asked. “It’s now open? Merchants can trade north?”

His father grinned and nodded. “Ronan and I agreed that the best choice would be to create a market at the border, policed together by our soldiers until merchants grow confident enough to travel beyond. No taxes. Free trade. But first, we will march together to make war against Amarid. We will raze that entire godforsaken kingdom to the ground. Ronan and I have both sworn it will be so.”

All James’s elation drained away as his father’s words registered. “You aim to start a war?”

“To finish it.” His father’s eyes were bright. Too bright, making him seem almost manic. “Ronan is marshaling his forces, and within weeks, we will be marching. And you, my boy, you made this possible. You will be Amarid’s damnation.”

That had never been James’s goal. Had never been what he’d wanted.

Like a slap to the face, James understood why Amarid had taken such risks, first at Northwatch and then in the gulf. Not to stop trade.

To stop an invasion.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why are we going to war against Amarid? Is this about the Lowlands?”

“It is about vengeance.” His father drank deeply from his glass, then set it down. “I’ve kept this from you all these long years, and I hope you will forgive it of me, my son. But I couldn’t risk you taking vengeance into your own hands and getting yourself killed. For to bring the Amaridian bitch down, we must bring down her kingdom.”

James swallowed hard. “Katarina.”

His father gave a slow nod. “She discovered Siobhan’s plans. Who she was. And Katarina murdered her for it.”

James drew in a steadying breath, this revelation not striking his heart as much as the truth of his father’s ambition. “This was always your goal, then? Vengeance? Do you even care about mending the relationship between Cardiff and Harendell?”

“Of course I care,” his father said, even as he looked away. “It was Siobhan’s dream. I’ll see it through. We’ll see it through, but vengeance for her murder must come first. Ronan agrees.”

It was like seeing his father for the first time, and James did not like what he saw. Not a revolutionary seeking social change for the better, but a bitter old man hunting for revenge for the death of the love of his life. How many people who had nothing to do with his mother’s murder would die to appease his father? How many families would be destroyed? How many children orphaned? “What of Ahnna?” he asked, voice toneless. “What is her role in this?”

“Ronan and I came to terms on the matter of betrothals,” his father said.

“You can’t still mean to wed William to her when this”—James gestured to the signed pages—“kicks Ithicana in the teeth. Let her go, Father.”

“I’m not sending Ahnna anywhere,” his father replied. “She’s worth far too much, and Katarina knows it. I’m not letting her have Ahnna.”

A knock sounded on the door, and his father said, “Come.”

A servant stepped inside. “The guests have begun to arrive, Your Grace.”

His father nodded. “I’ll be along shortly.” When the man departed, he rose. “James, I know you feel a step behind, but trust my intentions. I will let no harm come to Ahnna Kertell, which is why I’ve ordered her kept to her rooms. Now go put on something appropriate. We’re going to change the world tonight.”

His father rose, circling the table to clasp James’s shoulder, fingers tightening in a way that told James any argument he gave would be poorly received. “All will be as it should be, and I think you’ll be pleased with the results. But I need to go now. Alexandra will be upset that I’ve gone behind her back, and I need to ensure that eyes are on her before she causes trouble.”

“Does she suspect?”

Edward laughed. “Are you mad? Of course not.” Letting go of James’s shoulder, he said, “Only you know the truth. Because of all my children, you have always served me best. Your mother’s dying words were that your fate would be revenge on her murderer. And there is no doubt in my mind that you will be the damnation of Amarid.”

Then his father was gone.

James sat, feeling the weight of his new moniker drag him down.

Amarid’s damnation.

Ithicana’s damnation.

But above all else, the damnation of the woman with whom he’d fallen in love.