Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

WREN

Wren's head pounded with a headache that wouldn't quite break, but instead pressed insistently at the inside of her skull and left her in misery. No one would tell her what had happened.

Anselm still stood guard outside her quarters, and she had sent Olivier off in search of news of Elodie.

‘What was he thinking?' she asked for the hundredth time. Lynette shook her head and turned her attention back to the piece of embroidery she was currently stabbing at in an effort to take her mind off whatever was happening outside Wren's rooms.

‘I'm not sure Ilanthians think, your highness. Not the men, anyway.'

‘Finn does,' she murmured. But Finn was another matter altogether. She was a danger to him, she realised that now. Perhaps she had always known. He lost himself in her, and she was far too eager to let him. If desire for the Nox would make Leander try to kill himself – Leander of all people – what would Finn do? Finn who actually cared about her…

She had felt it, felt the hunger and the need, felt the complete disregard for anyone else in the darkness that had filled her. Felt Finn's need to obey her and serve. Even with his life, if she asked it.

How had she not seen it before? It wasn't love. It couldn't be. He had no choice in how he felt about her. He belonged to her and he had never even had a chance to consent to that.

She sank down on the bed, trying to still her whirling mind.

‘Will you have something to drink, your highness?' Carlotta asked softly, her face all concern. ‘You're so pale. I can make a tincture to help. Some chamomile and black haw, with skullcap, maybe…or ginger?' A hedge witch remedy, Wren thought absently. The type of thing she and Elodie would have made back in Cellandre, for headaches. Great light, she missed solutions as simple as that.

She took Carlotta's hand and squeezed it in gratitude but at the same time shook her head. A tincture was not going to help her now. She wasn't sure if anything would.

A knock on the door brought her to her feet as if pulled up by a wire. ‘Come in,' she said loudly, before Lynette had a chance to say anything else.

Ylena entered, regal as any queen. Her attendants closed the door behind her. She fixed Wren with that keen gaze.

‘How are you?'

Whatever Wren had been expecting, it wasn't this. ‘Lady Ylena?' was all she managed to say, as she dropped into a clumsy curtsy. It seemed like the best course of action.

Someone moved one of the high-backed chairs and the elderly woman sank into it. And she did look old, all of a sudden. She studied Lynette and Carlotta in turn and then seemed to dismiss them from her mind.

‘That was all far more dramatic than it needed to be. Honestly, Sassone was bad enough. He so wanted her to be guilty, the stupid man. He hates that he cannot control her. He never could, and nor could his father. I have handled things poorly. I apologise for that.'

Wren stared. Her legs began to shake so she sank back onto the edge of her bed. ‘I don't understand,' she whispered.

‘Your mother, the queen, is exonerated. That's all you need to understand. You are her daughter and therefore her heir. Your fate is put off for a time. But it is still your fate. I hope you accept that now.'

To be queen after Elodie, that was what she meant. The words were like a steel trap closing, its jaws digging into Wren's heart.

But what could Wren say? Elodie might not have called her daughter but it hardly mattered.

Wren decided to try formality. ‘Lady Ylena…I would like to speak to the queen.'

‘She is being cared for by the Maidens of the Aurum.' She held up her hand when Wren made to protest. ‘Not as a prisoner, as a patient. The full force of the Aurum within her was too much. She is weak and needs healing. She must rest. You may never have seen such things before but I have. It killed my sister, you know.'

No one looked up or moved. Wren stared at Ylena who stared back, as if daring her to argue.

‘Is she…is she in danger?'

‘I think not. Not this time. The next time, who knows. It is a fickle thing, the Aurum, a consciousness in its own right, with devices and desires. But it forgets that the people who serve it, especially those who can embody it, are but mortal things.'

Wren thought of the Nox, of its casual disregard for her. Suddenly the Aurum didn't seem so very different from its dark sibling. Two sides of the same coin, two parts of the same old magic.

The way Elodie had always talked about the Aurum was as a distant and wise thing, a source of benevolence. But this felt different. The voice that had spoken from Elodie hadn't been her own. And it had sounded vengeful. That same force had turned to look at Wren when the Nox had almost slipped free and it had hated her.

Great light and shadows of old, what was she going to do?

‘But she's going to be all right, isn't she?' Wren knew she sounded like a child. She didn't care. Panic flooded through her and she threw herself forward, dropping to her knees before the regent. ‘Please, Ylena, she has to be all right. I'll do whatever you want. I'll be good. I promise, but I need to know?—'

The old woman put out her hand and smoothed it through Wren's unruly hair, making a soothing sound. There was a brush of magic, like static electricity between them. ‘There now, hush. Maryn has her and no one can heal like my Maryn. We'll start again, you and I. Is that fair? And when Elodie is ready, you shall see her. That much I can promise.'

‘Thank you,' Wren whispered and tried to smile.

‘We really need to do something about your hair though,' the old woman murmured absently. ‘It really grows in fits and starts, doesn't it?'

Wren brought her own hand up to it and found it far longer than it should be, curling down to her shoulders already.

‘It… it reacts to…'

‘I noticed,' said Ylena calmly. ‘Perhaps, Lynette, you would fetch me a pair of scissors?'

Lynette was only halfway across the room when there was another knock on the door.

This time it was just Roland. He looked grey and washed-out, a bit broken. He had never looked old before this moment, not to her. But now…now he looked like someone twice his age.

‘Is she hurt?' Wren blurted out, coming up to her feet, Ylena forgotten.

‘She's exhausted, that's all. Too much magic, too much power…the Aurum is…it's not kind to her. She won't be able to raise so much as a spark for days. The maidens are caring for her.'

‘I want to see her.'

Roland glanced at Ylena, his face a mask. ‘I don't think that's a good idea right now. Do you?'

Wren sucked in a breath to say something in reply but couldn't find words. Not in response to that. She stood there, staring at him, gaping like a fish on dry land.

‘Roland,' said Ylena sharply. ‘Be kind.'

He cast a look at her as if he had only just realised she was there. ‘Lady Ylena,' he murmured but didn't say anything more than that.

At least it gave Wren some time to recover. She needed to know what was happening. ‘Where's Finn? Was he hurt?'

Roland made a noise deep in his chest, a rumble of something like disappointment or disgust. ‘He's gone back to the Ilanthian embassy with his brother and cousin, trying to smooth things over, I think. He's a better diplomat than he gives himself credit for. I think he will stay there for the time being, until we know what has become of his brother. And how this will all fall out.'

Also probably the best thing, Wren thought absently, and felt like the worst traitor. Finn was safer there than anywhere near her. But something inside her ached at the thought of not being near him. And she wasn't sure if it was her heart or something else, something darker she could never trust.

There had been royal Ilanthian blood spilled before the Aurum once more, and Wren had felt the Nox clawing its way through her to get out. Elodie had felt it too and the Aurum…oh light, the Aurum had gone wild. If she stepped in front of it again, what would it do? Would it recognise her?

‘Elodie is safe, isn't she? She's…she's herself again?'

‘Lady Regent Ylena,' Roland said after a pause, his voice all stiff formality. ‘May I have a moment alone to talk to my daughter?'

Wren's great-aunt didn't move from her seat. ‘I think it best if I stay, Grandmaster.'

There was a long and painful silence.

Roland's sigh was bitter with exhaustion and regret. He didn't even bother arguing with her, not anymore. He looked as if in that moment he dismissed the regent and anyone else from his mind, and turned all his attention on Wren instead.

‘Were you or Elodie ever planning to tell me the truth?'