Page 6

CHAPTER 6

I f Kat had looked pristinely beautiful in the sitting room at Sunflower Cottage, she was resplendent when surrounded by her own accommodations. Swathed in a forest-green gown with delicate lace cuffs and glittering buttons, she’d entered her waiting parlor in a cloud of lily-scented perfume, with Declan Riennad on her heels, though the regent had taken his place beside the door. Keeping his silence no doubt, to allow Kat to handle the situation.

To say that Kat’s expression was smug did not begin to describe the truth of it. Declan might be allowing her to lead, but he needed to teach her to school her reactions. She’d done a decent job in the cottage; now, her triumph was all too clear. She looked as if she’d just won a contentious game of croquet against a particularly brutish opponent. And she didn’t even attempt to hide it.

Nor had she bothered to take a closer look at the crystal that Laena had laid upon the table, with a handkerchief underneath it for protection. The rock had shifted in appearance during the journey, and it was now cut through with angry crimson lines. If Laena looked at it for too long, she almost imagined she could see a heartbeat fluttering within. A not-small part of her wished she’d opted to leave it at home. What if the monster had been born of it?

But Kat would never listen to her without proof. Even now, her sister wasn’t even bothering to inspect the horrid thing. She had not taken a seat on the opposite settee, though Laena didn’t know if it was because the corset made it difficult for her to sit, or because she wanted to maintain the power in the conversation. As if this conversation was so unimportant that she would soon be gone.

Laena would have been able to maintain the power, whether sitting or standing or dancing a jig.

Not that it mattered anymore.

“I appreciate you coming all this way, sister,” Kat said. “But this appears to be some kind of elaborate prank. Why not alert the village constable?”

First, because the village constable had made it clear upon Laena’s arrival that he considered her to be a traitor who ought to be hung. And second, because this was far more than a simple prank. If Katrina was to be the queen of this realm, she needed to protect her people.

But acidic words would not help the situation. Laena drew in a deep breath and met her sister’s gaze steadily. “This crystal is but a sample of the blight I discovered in the garden the day before I was attacked.”

“Attacked,” Kat repeated. “By a shadow monster, you say. But shadows have no form.”

Laena curled her fingers into a fist. “Do formless shadows draw blood?”

Kat’s eyes flickered over the cut on Laena’s cheek. “A wayward branch might have done as much.”

“If attached to a blade,” Laena shot back. Or a whip .

“And how did you defeat such a monster, sister? With sharp words and your few remaining shreds of honor? ”

Not dignity. Honor . She’d abandoned her country for a man, and that was dishonorable. As if Kat had not been salivating for the job.

For no reason at all, Captain Farrow’s face sprang into her head. He’d been kind to her. In fact, he didn’t seem to care a whit for her supposed disgrace. Though the mention of the man in her bed had heated her cheeks in ways she wasn’t interested in pursuing.

His reaction when she mentioned the king had surprised her. It should be a common enough sentiment; from what she’d heard, the old king had raised Farrow alongside his sons and his daughter.

Perhaps most people gave their sympathies to King Hawk. Or perhaps Farrow hadn’t been treated well, somehow.

Laena wanted to believe that if her sister knew the truth, she would understand why Laena had left. She had loved Ben—she sometimes thought she still did—and his betrayal still cut like a knife. But it was the growing power, the rock of icy power growing within her like that poisonous icicle, that had prompted her to abdicate her responsibilities. For the good of the realm.

Callum Farrow’s kindness would certainly dry up if he learned of her secret. There would be no interventions, no sharp words to guards. He would haul her to the darkest dungeon, if he allowed her to live at all.

And Kat’s last bit of patience with her would be gone, too. Etra might be more lenient than Aglye, but magic was still illegal.

But Laena had anticipated this question. She’d had days to prepare an answer, and had considered everything from cryptic to dismissive to outright lies. Now, looking at Kat’s barely concealed anger, the truth on the tip of her tongue, she didn’t want to play games. She merely wanted her sister to understand the severity of the situation. “Katrina. It makes me think of?— ”

“Do not say it,” Kat interrupted.

“But it does,” Laena pushed. “It makes me think of Mirage.”

Declan startled and took half a step forward as if to intervene in the conversation, but Kat was already opening her mouth to speak. “The Miragelands are sealed away,” she said airily. “They cannot touch the Vales.”

Declan nodded, lips pressed together, and retreated back to his hiding spot. He’d seemed so intimidating to Laena when she’d been the focus of his tutoring. Now, he seemed younger than she remembered, his auburn hair thick, his beard well-trimmed. Hardly worthy of the title she’d given him of dry old goat.

Though the title was really more about one’s aura than one’s temporal age.

Also, there was something about the way he looked at Katrina, the way his eyes lingered well below her face, that made Laena want to slap him.

“Are you quoting directly from your textbook?” Laena asked. “Or do you have an opinion of your own?”

Kat flushed, the corners of her mouth tightening in annoyance. “I am stating what I know to be true.”

A petty part of Laena wanted to flounce out of the room and let Kat discover her mistakes in disastrous fashion. She was not obligated to ensure her sister’s success.

But this was not about Kat. This was about Etra. “Please.” She hated the pleading note in her tone, hated that she had to beg. But sometimes, a moment came in diplomacy where even the most hated tools needed to be used. “Don’t be a fool. Don’t refuse to listen just because you hate me. You need to reach out to the farmers and find out if anyone else has discovered this blight. The alchemists can study it, find out if there’s an antidote. You can prevent a famine if you just heed the warnings now. Before it’s too late.”

She felt herself leaning forward, hands on her knees, peering up at her sister. She’d dropped the mask, allowing Kat to see her fear. Anything, everything, if it would break through Kat’s frosty exterior.

She cared about Etra, too. Laena knew she did.

Kat’s spine stiffened. “I know how to be queen, Laena. Far more than you ever did. I didn’t abandon my people.”

“Katrina,” Declan said softly, and Kat trailed off, though the defiance remained painted across her face.

There was nothing else to say. If Katrina would not listen, then Etra was truly in danger. Laena hadn’t truly considered what might happen if her sister rejected every attempt to make her see reason. Laena might go to the farmers guild herself, if she could guarantee she would not be recognized. It wouldn’t do if they thought she was causing divisions.

She might well cause an actual division, if more people felt the way the old woman in the coach did. If more people believed she should have kept her throne—that she deserved to.

Laena rose. “It was a mistake to come here,” she said, keeping her tone even. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

She would find another solution. She would have to. Unless the blight had stopped with the defeat of the shadow monster, she more than suspected her home would no longer be livable upon her return. The black poison would already be crawling up the walls, eating away everything she’d worked so hard to build.

Kat glanced at Declan, who nodded, his expression grim. Laena nearly rolled her eyes. Kat was the princess, soon to be queen. She shouldn’t need Declan’s approval to do anything.

Katrina settled herself on the flower-printed chair across the table. “I will look into the matter,” she said, “if you agree to serve as emissary to Aglye.”

Caught. Well and truly caught. Here Laena had been smugly assessing her sister’s poor negotiation, and Kat had been in control of the entire conversation. From the very start, perhaps even from the moment Laena stepped up to the gates. If Kat had watched her long enough to know Ben was gone, she might easily have known when Laena set out for Riles.

Laena should have anticipated it. She’d been long absent from the maneuvers of court life, but Kat had grown up among it, too. And she was not out of practice.

“This is your realm at stake,” Laena said. “And you want to make a deal ? Tell me you weren’t the one who planted this poison in my garden, Kat.”

Kat’s eyes widened. “Certainly not. And making deals is what the role entails, Laena. Or have you forgotten? If there is something you need, then you may have it. For a price.”

Of course she hadn’t forgotten. Laena’s political prowess had been second to none, once upon a time.

She wasn’t certain she believed Katrina’s protests—the timing of the poison in the garden was far too convenient. But where her sister would have found such a monster to attack her, Laena could not have said.

And unless Kat wanted her dead, Laena didn’t want to believe she would have sent such a beast.

Emissary to Aglye. With Callum Farrow as her escort—and no doubt a constant presence even once they arrived in the capitol—it would be a dangerous task indeed. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the power she’d used against the shadow monster frightened her. It was the kind of incident that had convinced her of the need to abdicate in the first place.

Despite her struggle to learn more about the magic by using it in small increments, she was not convinced she could fully control it.

But if she didn’t go, Katrina would ignore the blight. She would not investigate it. And Etra could fall into famine—or far worse, if more of those monsters infested the land.

“Fine,” Laena said. “I agree. ”

Kat popped to her feet, skirts bouncing. “Excellent. I’ll go inform the council.”

“The council is sitting?”

Kat lifted an eyebrow. “Well, yes. You barged in on us rather unexpectedly. We were attempting to appoint a new emissary. You caused quite a stir.” She brushed her hands over her skirt, giving her head a rueful shake. “But then, that is what you prefer, is it not? All eyes on you?”

Laena opened her mouth, then closed it again. Was that truly what Kat thought of her? That she’d abdicated her throne in a bid for attention ? There had been some, but surely someone with that level of vanity would have wanted to maintain her position, to push for a change in the laws—as the council had begged her to do at the time—and become queen instead of abdicating in favor of her sister’s dearest wish.

Otherwise Kat would never have exposed her relationship with Ben after finding them together. And Laena would never have been forced to choose. It all happened five years ago, and Laena could hardly fault a fourteen-year-old for longing to be queen. But her sister had waved goodbye with glee in her eyes, eager to take the throne.

Perhaps if she hadn’t reacted with such vicious excitement, Laena would have agreed to the council’s demands. Perhaps she would have searched for a confidant, someone to help with the problem of the magic.

Or perhaps there would have been no other course, in any case.

Declan stepped forward to lay a hand on Kat’s arm, the first sign of interference he’d shown. Laena could admit, grudgingly, that the regent took his responsibilities seriously. He was preparing Kat to be a great leader.

Kat nodded, but she didn’t apologize. As they made their way to the door, Laena heard Declan whisper, “Well done, Your Highness.”

As dusk slid into evening, no one came.

Laena had stood by the window for a time, watching as a parade of lords and ladies meandered the grounds. First the before-supper strolls, then the after-supper ones. A busy place, the palace gardens. Always open to whoever wished to walk there. She took care to hide herself behind the floor-length curtains as best she could, though no one so much as glanced toward the window. Busy with their own affairs, as usual. As she looked down at the gardens, she found herself unable to decide whether or not she missed the palace life.

It had been busy, sometimes to the point of madness, but she’d reveled in the bustle of it all. A stroll with a friend might yield a scheme to build a university in the south; a garden party might give her the opportunity to raise funds for such an endeavor. Every ball, every event, was a chance to hear from the country lords how Etra fared in the south, the west, the central plains. And what might be needed.

As much as she took pride in the life she’d built at Sunflower Cottage, she did miss palace life, and her role in it. She missed it very much.

The lamps had been lit in the full dark of evening, and now the procession had slowed, leaving only a scattering of small groups here and there. Laena’s stomach growled pitifully, and she allowed herself to sink onto the settee. No one had even come to light the lanterns. How long would she remain here, waiting like a fool? The council must have finished their meeting hours ago. Perhaps they’d elected not to make her emissary after all. Perhaps they’d learned of her magic and meant to send someone to arrest her.

After they’d had their dinners, no doubt. No reason to ruin a good meal with that sort of unpleasantness .

Or perhaps—and this seemed the most likely option—they’d merely forgotten she existed.

Brin, at least, had taken advantage of the quiet, abandoning her perch in Laena’s hair to explore each corner of the room. Laena wished her well in finding a meal; the room was spotless, and no doubt scoured of any and all delectable insects.

Laena leaned back on the seat, paying no mind to her posture. What did it matter? Good posture or poor, she would never have her sister’s respect.

The curtains stirred, a shadow flinching out of the corner of her eye. Before she could figure out what she’d seen, a pair of hands closed around her neck from behind and squeezed. Her throat worked uselessly, the breath caught in her lungs, as she clawed at the hands, but they were strong. Immovable.

Laena called for the power, but her core still felt hollow. A chill trembled there, like the barest beginning of a frost. After the fight with the monster, she didn’t know if it would ever fully return.

Yet even without magic, she was no delicate palace mouse. She remembered her self-defense lessons—and farm life had made her strong. Heaving her legs up over her head, she kicked her attacker in the face and dislodged their hands from her neck as the settee tipped backward. Her head slammed into the floor, sending stars screaming across her vision, and Laena struggled to maintain consciousness.

She’d hoped the couch would pin the attacker—an assassin, it had to be—but the figure moved with lightning quickness, like a shadow flickering in the light. Laena scrambled to her feet and dashed for the door. The attacker caught hold of her wrist, yanking her backward—perhaps they meant to toss her from the window, or stick a knife in her gut—but Laena lunged for the vase in the corner and grabbed it by the lip, then hurled it over her shoulder.

The vase struck flesh—she hoped it was the attacker’s evil head—and the fingers loosened, allowing Laena to dart the rest of the way to the door, where Brin landed on her shoulder with a startled chirp as she escaped into the hall.

Kat had not even posted guards at her door.

Well, why would she, when she herself was not in residence? Few people even knew Laena was here. And if they did, she was hardly worth the trouble of killing.

Laena ran for the first door, twisting the knob, but it was locked. A slam sounded behind her, and she threw herself toward the next without taking the time to look behind her. It opened, and she slipped inside. She shut it quickly and threw her weight against it, breathing hard.

When she looked up, she found herself staring into the startled face of Captain Callum Farrow. He had a bottle in one hand, a mug in the other, his lips parted in surprise.

He was also naked. From the waist up anyway, and that was perfectly sufficient to catch Laena’s breath in her throat. Hard lines defined the contours of his arms and the planes of his chest. His tanned skin glowed in the light of the fire. Despite the danger, and the fear tightening around her throat like the assassin’s fingers, the sight of him froze her in place. For a moment, faced with that chest, and those shoulders, she forgot what words were. The room smelled of whiskey and woodsmoke, and she didn’t know if it was him or the drink or a combination of the two.

“My lady?” he said, the words gruff and the slightest bit slurred, as if the drink had already dulled his tongue.

Already? No, it’d been hours since he’d escorted her to Kat’s sitting room. Time for an entire meal’s worth of drink. Two meals, even.

“I was attacked.” Laena felt lightheaded; the aftermath of the fight had left her trembling. “In the—in Katrina’s sitting room.”

Captain Farrow’s eyes sharpened, and he set the bottle on a sideboard. “Stay here. ”

He said it like a command, but Laena didn’t mind. She wasn’t sure she was capable of doing otherwise, in any case. She had just sense enough to move away from the door as he hurried through it. She remained rooted to the spot as the minutes ticked by. Some terror-stricken part of her brain was certain the man would meet his death, and that it would be her fault.

She was too rattled to sit, too rattled do anything but pace as she waited. He’d already strewn his shirt and jacket across the bed, and he’d gone after the assassin without his boots on. They sat by the door, already polished. He’d seen to them before disappearing into his drink.

Laena waited, the shock of the attack wracking her body with shivers, and still she could not keep herself from moving back and forth across the room. Even when Brin scurried out of her pocket to perch on her shoulder.

Laena tsked, offering the creature a hand so she could return her to the deep pocket of the skirt. “When did you leave the bag?” she scolded. “Hurry and hide yourself, before Captain Farrow sees you. There’s no telling what he might do to your kind.”

At length, he returned.

“I gave chase,” he said, “but the imp escaped. The guard is on their way. Was no one stationed outside the room?”

Laena shook her head, her throat stinging as she swallowed hard. “There was a council meeting. I’m sure they were needed elsewhere.”

Farrow’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze dropped to her neck as he stepped closer to her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head again, words sticking in her throat. He lifted his thumb, skimming light fingers along her neck and leaving her skin tingling. “This is a nasty mark.”

He raised his fingers to her forehead, inspecting the bump that was no doubt rising angrily there. And though he was only checking her for injury, nothing more, she found herself wishing she could close her eyes and lean into his touch. She could feel the heat of him, and she was all too aware of the bareness of his chest. It was all she could do not to lift a hand and run her fingertips over those ridges of muscle, interrupted only by a jagged scar on the collarbone, another on his right bicep.

“I hit my head,” she said. “When I knocked the settee over.”

“We should call for the physician to inspect your injuries.” He brushed the skin alongside the cut on her cheek, as if he felt they should take a look at that, too.

Then he dropped his hand, and she wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sorry as he took hold of her elbow and eased her toward a chair by the fire. Dizziness rattled her head, and she swayed, but he didn’t let go of her until she’d settled onto the edge of the seat. Where he promptly handed her his glass.

“Knocked the settee over, did you?” The corner of his mouth twitched, just slightly. “Impressive, my lady.”

Laena took a swallow, grateful for the comforting burn of the whiskey in her throat. “I had no intention of dying this evening. And I told you, I’m no lady.”

Apparently convinced of her safety, at least for the moment, Captain Farrow stepped to the bed, where a pile of clothing lay in a heap. He selected a shirt and shrugged it on over his head. He moved with a fluid kind of grace, despite the drink he’d clearly been taking all evening. Like a wolf, dark and dangerous.

And he was dangerous, she reminded herself. Especially to her.

In this moment, sitting by the fire, she wanted to forget it. But she’d be a fool not to recall that he would imprison her the moment he learned of her power.

“If the King’s Guard dragged their feet like this, I’d have their heads,” he muttered.

Dangerous, and a bit grumpy, too.

“Are you so used to assassination attempts?” Laena attempted to inject a note of amusement into her voice, but the incident was too near for levity. She could still feel the assassin’s fingers around her neck, intent on murder.

“We live in the shadow of Silerith, my lady. We are always on our guard.”

She supposed they would need to be. Was that to be Etra’s future as well, then? Always looking over their shoulders and watching for assassins? It wasn’t their way, and the idea sparked a painful wound in Laena’s chest. That was the whole reason for Kat’s mission, the reason Aglye had sent an escort headed by Callum Farrow himself. For if Silerith aimed to commit murder, what other choice did they have?