Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

FINN

Roland looked like he had been carved from stone, but the sword was halfway out of the scabbard already. He was watching Wren and Leander like a hawk. Finn knew the feeling but he himself couldn't do anything.

Not so the Grandmaster of the Knights of the Aurum. He paused for a long and painful moment before he turned to Hestia, his face unreadable.

‘This is Nightbreaker, Lady Hestia,' he said calmly, offering her the blade flat across both his hands. ‘Perhaps you remember it. Although you were very young then.' Hestia laid a hand on its length, her fingers only trembling very slightly.

‘And the Aurum has touched it again, Lord Roland,' she said softly. ‘It's stronger than ever. Thank you for showing me this. I understand more clearly now.'

And just like that a drawn sword was explained and a crisis averted. It was all Finn could do not to stare open-mouthed.

Hestia took his arm again, and this time he could feel her trembling, though whether from rage at Leander, fear, or a reaction to the magic imbuing the sword blade he didn't know. Finn locked eyes with Roland, who nodded curtly, and stepped back. No help was forthcoming there.

But at least he had stopped Leander in his tracks.

‘Well,' said Lady Ylena. ‘What a display. The wild revels of Sidonia have no place here, Lady Hestia.'

‘Of course not,' Leander said a little too loudly as he swaggered back towards them. ‘The light forbid anyone enjoy themselves, is that not so?' He ignored Ylena's glance of loathing and extended his hand to Hestia this time. ‘Cousin, would you care to dance?'

Hestia sighed, but it was the easiest way for her to get him away from Ylena and the next round of trouble. She couldn't do anything to punish him here and now, oh, but she would. Finn knew that. And he didn't care.

Ylena, Sassone and their cohort watched the two of them go. General Gaius gave Finn a curt nod and made his way quietly to the drinks table, dealing with this nightmare in his own way. The rest of the Ilanthian party spread out, laughing, commenting, watching. Finn didn't want to know what they were doing or why. He knew he ought to care. Anything could happen.

‘Enjoying your reunion, Ward?' asked Ylena in that icy voice of hers.

He pondered how to reply to that one. She'd enjoy most of the obvious options far too much. ‘There are many other places I would rather be, my lady regent.'

‘I'm sure there are.' She fanned herself dismissively. ‘But your favoured companion appears to have fled once again. She does run so very quickly when given a chance.'

He scanned the crowd and saw that she was right. Wren had vanished. He wanted to say something, make an excuse for her or plead her history, but it wouldn't matter to Ylena.

Having an enemy prince treat you like that in front of the whole court…and Ylena still wondered why Wren might run away. The woman expected far too much.

‘She will have to learn that these things happen soon enough,' Wren's great-aunt continued. ‘And a marriage might not be the worst thing for her.'

To Leander? Finn's attention snapped back to Ylena in horror. She couldn't mean it. She couldn't possibly think to repeat what happened to Elodie or to engineer some kind of?—

She smiled her thin, cruel smile at him, seeing everything she needed to see. ‘Well,' she said in softer tones. ‘You'd better go and find her, hadn't you? Explain some things. And quickly, I think. So lovely to see you, Finnian, and looking every inch the Ilanthian prince once more. Right down to wearing the king's favour, I see.'

‘Excuse me,' Finn murmured and stepped away from them. He wasn't needed there anymore, just a ward to some, a hostage, and too close to the Ilanthians for others. And the brunt of jokes and innuendo.

Where was she? He crossed the room, skirting along the edge of the dancers, and sidestepping anyone who tried to talk to him. He wasn't even particularly polite about it. He didn't care.

He found Anselm and Olivier standing by the double doors leading out onto a balcony, alert and on guard, which let him relax for a moment. That was good, wasn't it? It had to be good. They would keep her safe until they knew what this signified. She had to be outside, far from Leander, although someone ought to be out there with her.

Because Finn didn't like any of this. Not one bit.

Anselm nodded as he approached and stepped aside to let him through.

Wren, in that scarlet gown that made her skin glow like moonlight, was leaning on the balustrade overlooking the ocean, her arms so straight and taut it looked for a moment as if they were all that were holding her upright.

Anselm stepped outside behind Finn. ‘Maybe you can make her see reason. She can't stay out here, Finn. They're going to notice. Appearances are?—'

‘How many times do I need to tell you I am not going back in there,' Wren snapped at him. Always the politician at heart, Anselm. Finn could guess how this conversation had gone already and nothing would appeal to Wren less than arguments about her duty and political expediency. ‘Besides, Leander appears to have taken the whole diplomatic incident thing as a dare and I don't intend to play with him.'

‘It's all right,' Finn told her, as gently as he could. ‘No one would expect it.' He cast Anselm a meaningful glare but his friend shrugged as if to say if that was the way Finn wanted to play it, fine. But Finn wasn't playing. He gestured to the door leading back inside, where the lights glowed warm and the music was starting up again.

‘I'll leave you then, your highnesses,' said Anselm. ‘But please consider what I said. You are our acknowledged princess. In a very short time you might be queen. Such things become necessary.'

‘Go away, Anselm,' Wren growled.

Finn knew that tone. Sure enough, in the corners of the balcony and out across the open air beyond the balcony, the shadows were moving, coiling and growing. Anselm didn't notice. He didn't know the risk.

‘By your leave,' said Anselm with a bow.

Finn waited a moment or two, until he was sure they were alone, before crossing to her and running a soothing hand across the taut lines of Wren's shoulders. ‘It's going to be all right,' he told her. ‘Let go. You don't want to be calling up anything here and now, do you?'

She shivered beneath his touch. He felt it like vibrations up his arm. But the growing shadows unfurled into nothing again.

Wren sighed irritably. ‘I've been trying so hard not to do that.'

‘I know,' he told her. And he did. He could see the strain on her face, in her eyes. He wanted to hold her and tell her it would all be all right.

But no one could promise that. The silence dragged on, hollow and aching.

‘Why are they here?' she asked at last. ‘You know, don't you? What did they tell you?'

Finn leaned against the balcony edge beside her, staring out to sea. The waves moved far below them, crawling in from the edge of the night, to crash on the rocks below.

‘That ostensibly they are here for the trial. Leander is here to apologise for what he did to us. For his incursion into the territory of Asteroth and his attempt to abduct you. And trying to kill me but that's secondary. He's been trying to do that for years and I don't think he's sorry about that in the least. Only sorry he didn't succeed. I think our father is more embarrassed than anything else and so he's reaching out to make peace with me, and with Asteroth. And Hestia, our cousin, is in charge of this mission so she'll have reasons of her own.'

‘I thought witches in Ilanthus weren't allowed positions of power?' So Wren knew about Hestia. Interesting. How much had Anselm told her? And who else had her ear now?

Finn reached out and ran a fingertip down her shoulder. It was meant to be a simple gesture of reassurance and affection but the feeling of her silken skin made him draw in a breath so sharply it left him dizzy.

Focus, he told himself. He had been away from her for too long already. He wanted only to throw himself at her feet right now. Especially with her looking as she looked, with the fire of her anger raging in her eyes.

‘Witchkind aren't. Hestia is…different. She's one of the sisterhood, and she's a favourite of my father's. She's powerful. And dangerous. And…'

Wren looked at him, a stare which was like being stabbed. ‘I saw you with her. Following her like some kind of adoring puppy.'

He almost laughed. He wanted to. The idea of adoring Hestia…

But he did. To a certain extent, for all her faults. But he didn't believe a word she had told him, especially not about his father.

‘I didn't have a choice. She was probably the only friend I ever had in that court. I owe her. Like I said, she's different.'

A small word for what she was. But Wren didn't look convinced.

She lifted her hand towards the pendant Hestia had given him as if it drew her to it. Her fingers trembled but she said nothing. Then she looked up to his face, a thousand questions in her eyes.

Finn leaned in closer, his mouth already seeking hers, his eyes closing with expectation. She drew him to her like a lodestone. Perhaps he could burn away Leander's kiss with his own. At least his would be welcome.

‘Finn.' Roland's voice broke the spell and Wren jerked back from him, turning to face her father. ‘You are needed inside. Our guests are asking for you. Wren…' His voice softened, gentled unexpectedly, a tone which gave Finn a rush of hope for the two of them. Roland could be kind. Few people knew that, but Finn did. ‘If you wish to retire for the evening I will understand.'

He stood in the doorway, his features strained, his shoulders tight. Wren's hand closed on Finn's arm, the pendant and the abandoned kiss forgotten.

‘He asked me to marry him,' she said, the tone revealing what she thought of that prospect more eloquently than words ever could.

‘Well that's not going to happen,' Roland replied before Finn could even protest. ‘Not even if you begged me. It was a ruse anyway, a means to upset you. Pay him no mind. He's a whelp who has lost power and is trying to punish everyone around him in retribution. That scene was more designed to embarrass Hestia and me than anything else.'

‘But he's still dangerous,' Finn warned them.

Roland nodded solemnly. ‘I am aware, which is why we need you to keep close to him. Who knows what else might take his fancy to do while here.'

Finn gave a curt bow. What else could he do? The Grandmaster commanded him and he was sworn to obey.

‘Why does Finn have to deal with him ?' Wren's voice sounded thin and stretched, ready to break. She was worried about him, he realised. Light bless her, she was trying to protect him. Even now.

But Finn already knew why he had to be the one. His birth, his blood. Everything. Because he might be the only one who could right now. With Alessander's favour and Hestia's enchantments, they might keep his half-brother at bay until he could be removed back to Sidonia, his apologies made.

‘Prince Leander is not a threat at present. He is an honoured guest on a mission of reparation.' Finn's voice dripped with loathing he couldn't even begin to disguise. Roland almost smiled. Almost.

Wren was less impressed.

‘I hope you're a better liar than that when speaking in public,' she snapped at him and then turned on her father instead. ‘Have you told Elodie he's here yet? What do you think she'll do when she finds out?'