39. Dagmara

Afew days later, Dagmara was summoned by Claude. This time, she was told that a food shipment had arrived, and they would be making their first delivery to the provinces. It seemed awfully soon for the food shipment to have arrived from Azurem, but that gave Dagmara a newfound sense of hope. Maybe that meant Claude’s shipment of medicine had already arrived in Azurem. Maybe with the leku, doctors would be able to start making the cure to zowach again. They had run out of it years ago, but now hundreds of lives could be saved, including Teos’s life.

Dagmara gracefully tucked her dagger into a sheathe on her thigh and added her newly brewed potions to her belt. One was the flash bomb jasny from her brother, of which she had only one left, and another smoke bomb, also from her brother. It resembled the explosive he had set off the day of the coronation. Another was a simple, poison-free concoction of herbs that gave her energy when she needed it most. She knew today would include being out under the sun, and she still had to maintain the facade that she was a guardian.

Collecting her things, Dagmara headed to meet Claude.

Martine wasn’t the only guard standing outside of Dagmara’s chamber that morning. A young guard was standing before Martine, holding a small white box. Dagmara immediately recognized the young guard as Pierre. The two guards both whipped their heads to Dagmara, straightening their posture as if they had been caught in an uncompromising position.

“Good morning,” Dagmara said, her gaze shifting between the two of them, curiosity gnawing inside her.

Pierre cleared his throat. “His Majesty has asked me to escort you both to the stables,” the guard said. “I also brought this for…” his voice ran dry as his gaze lingered on Martine, his grip tightening on the small box. “For…Your Highness!” he blurted out, extending his hand rigidly toward Dagmara. “Caramel squares!”

Dagmara’s eyes narrowed, a smirk subtly creasing on her face. “I am fine with you giving Martine a gift,” she said, amused. Pierre was easily five years younger than Martine.

Martine’s face turned red. “I cannot keep the box on my person, and I don’t have time to return to my chamber,” she paused, “as I already explained to Pierre.”

“Then we shall keep them here until we return,” Dagmara stated. She took the small box from Pierre’s grasp, peeking a glance inside at the misshapen caramel squares, and reentered her room. She gave them to Urszula, who had heard the whole conversation, and then exited her room once more.

“Pierre is your name?” Dagmara asked.

The boy’s face twitched as if it were a trick question. “P-Pierre Candide, yes, Your Highness.”

“Nice to officially meet you, I’m Magdalena.”

He gave her a smile and an awkward bow.

Martine said nothing, but gave Pierre a sheepish smile, which Dagmara certainly had never seen before. It made Dagmara grin seeing the two awkwardly interact.

“Shall we?” Dagmara announced, realizing the pair would stand together all day.

“Yes,” said Martine, finding her professionalism once more. Then she proceeded to lead the group to the stables.

The morning was breezy, and the flowers that peppered the front yard created a calming ambiance, but a false one at that. Dagmara remembered that the beauty of the castle was all Claude’s magic. He was leading a lie, falsely projecting wealth when he was as desperate as the rest of his kingdom.

Outside the stables was an entire entourage. Two carriages were ready to go, led by gorgeous stallions. One carriage was being loaded with crates, no doubt the food shipment. The other carriage, which could easily seat eight people, was left wide open, certainly for her and the king.

Madame Annette was barking orders at the servants. Meanwhile, Claude supervised silently, and he turned his attention to Dagmara as she approached.

The sunlight glistened against his skin, already coated with a thin shimmer of sweat. At least he was fully clothed today, but that didn’t make him any less attractive. In fact, there was something seductive about the regal attire he wore and knowing exactly the handsome physique that was concealed underneath.

His expression turned suspicious. Did he still blame her for the poisoned wine on the terrace? A few nights prior he had accused her, telling her the poison was smierc. It didn’t make any sense.

“Good morning,” Dagmara said. “I’m surprised a shipment arrived so quickly.”

“We all are,” Madame Annette said, doubt laced in her voice. She fired a glance at the king before returning to bark orders at the servants. They seemed to be on their last load.

Claude remained silent.

“We’re nearly ready to head out.” The baritone voice sent a shudder through Dagmara. She saw Sabien approach, his deep voice loud enough for all to hear. “If you are ready, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Claude said. Then he gestured toward the second carriage. “After you, Princess?”

Dagmara nodded before starting for the carriage. Sabien opened the carriage door for her before extending his hand to help her inside. She gave him a hesitant smile, remembering their kiss in the library, before taking his hand. His grip was firm, his thumb caressing her skin briefly enough so that no one else would notice, but it sent a chill down Dagmara’s spine.

“Glad to see your palm has healed,” he said, barely audible.

Her mind flashed to when he noticed the cut on her palm in the library, and it aroused suspicion that she didn’t have Life magic. She quickly withdrew and took a seat in the plush carriage.

Claude joined her in the carriage, sitting on her opposite side. He adjusted the sword at his belt so that he could sit comfortably. Pierre, Martine, and Claude’s other main guard joined them last. Before the door shut, Dagmara watched as Sabien started for the front of the entourage. There was no doubt he was accompanying them.

The carriage door closed, and Claude said:

“The shipment isn’t from Azurem. It’s from Celestaire.”

“What?” Dagmara’s expression flashed with surprise.

“Yes, Reon had it coordinated a long time ago, but it’s the only shipment we received and will be receiving from them.”

A call sounded outside, and the carriage jerked as they departed from the castle. Dagmara began, “I didn’t realize you and Celestaire were in an alliance.”

“We’re not exactly,” Claude admitted. “Again, this is a one time shipment. The council doesn’t know about it, solely Reon and Guardian Sora.”

The council. Dagmara was familiar with it. Celestaire seemed to do their ranking and governing differently. The guardian and her partner were solely figureheads for the country, mainly for show. It was the council that made governing and militia decisions, which was different from both Azurem and Ilusauri.

“Only the people in this carriage—and Sabien—know this shipment is from Celestaire as opposed to Azurem.”

“What business do you have with Celestaire that their council doesn’t know about?” Dagmara ventured.

“That is confidential. We will be telling everyone this shipment is from Azurem.”

“Celestaire doesn’t have the same produce that Azurem does, so no one will believe that.”

“People in a famine won’t question their food,” Claude shot back.

Dagmara shifted in her seat. She glanced sideways at Martine, wondering if she knew about all of the illusions Claude was creating.

“The people at the castle know about the magic,” Martine explained, nearly reading her thoughts.

That made enough sense. She couldn’t imagine someone trying to harvest a vegetable and end up with nothing but air. However, how were all the servants and guards at the castle keeping such a large secret?

Claude continued, “This shipment will be going straight to Lionel, seeing as he was the one you announced our new agreement with. As soon as we start getting shipments from Azurem, we will travel to the other three provinces and then probably have to circle back to Lionel at some point.”

“What province is Lionel responsible for again?” Dagmara had met far too many people at the engagement ball for her to keep everything straight.

“The Southern,” Claude replied. “The capital of Ilusauri, Sailonne, is in that province, giving Lionel more responsibility than the other governors.”

Dagmara knew that name and the reason she was here in the first place. She had to sneak away and find any proof that Lionel forged the three assassin’s papers to cross over for the Azuremi coronation. If not, Claude was the only other person able to forge the papers.

“You said you haven’t left the castle since your parents died, but did you visit the neighboring towns often before that?” Dagmara ventured.

“Yes, my father and I often went to the towns together,” Claude replied. “We could play games in the open field, and my father and I would always race back to the castle. He thought it was important for the people to know their king. He didn’t want to be an untouchable figurehead, he wanted to be a friendly leader. It’s what he wanted for me too. It’s what I wanted…” his voice trailed off and his face hardened. “It will be a long ride to the capital if you want to get some rest.” In other words, he was done with her questions. The king went silent, shifting his gaze to the window.

The ride to the capital was long. By the time they reached Sailonne, the sun was already above the horizon. The landscape was gray, save for the sliver of blue in the sky, and the fields were dusted with ash, shriveled and decaying.

The carriage came to a halt at the edge of a sprawling city that was surrounded by a stone wall. Pierre and Martine were quick to shut the curtains, masking the royals from the outside. By the sound of it, there was already a crowd forming at the front gates.

“Let us speak with Sabien and assess the situation,” Martine announced. She opened the door, and suddenly a plethora of smells and noises flooded the carriage. She exited, shortly followed by Claude’s two guards. They shut the carriage door with a resounding smack, enclosing Claude and Dagmara in the carriage together.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how important this is,” Claude said, “it is the first time my citizens are seeing us together.”

The first time they were seeing him outside the castle since he was a child, but he didn’t have to say that.

“What are we going for here?” Dagmara asked.

Claude seemed taken aback by the question, and his expression wavered with confusion.

Dagmara clarified, “What is appropriate in your kingdom? Do they want to see an alliance between two guardians? Do they want to see a couple in love?” Dagmara remembered the way Bogdan would show off with his magic. She remembered the fountain in the square before the coronation and how every child wanted a piece of the guardian’s powers. The people of Azurem loved magic. She added, “Do they want a show?”

“No, not a show,” said Claude, finally seeming to understand her question. “They loved how genuine my father was. They loved how close our family was. They like feeling as though we are one of them…not some higher being.” We meant guardians. Dagmara was never a guardian, so acting as though she wasn’t one would be right up her alley.

Claude’s heel was still tapping on the ground, his knee shaking and vibrating the rest of the carriage. “I suppose they want to see honesty. I don’t know if I can give them that.”

Dagmara reached toward him, placing her hand on his knee. She wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted him to stop shaking or because she felt for him.

He stilled against her touch, his expression shifting into something more calm.

“We can still be our genuine selves without revealing all our secrets,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “We will keep the visit short, just in case.”

In case they both were accosted by the blackbird. It wasn’t only plaguing Claude’s mind, making him a Mad King, but now it was in Dagmara’s head too. They couldn’t let the people see that.

There was a knock on the carriage door before it opened, revealing Sabien. “We’re ready for you both. Lionel came to greet us.”

Claude nodded and glanced at Dagmara. “For the betterment of our kingdoms.”

A warmth spread through Dagmara once more. “And the safety of our people,” she added, before they stepped out of the carriage to face the citizens of Sailonne.

Lionel Floquet stood at the entrance to Sailonne, his short, white beard seemed brighter in the sunlight, contrasting against his tan skin. His hands were interlaced against his stomach, waiting patiently.

Claude held out his hand for Dagmara, helping her step down out of the carriage. By the way Lionel’s bushy eyebrows raised high on his forehead, it was evident he was surprised to see them both, despite the coordinated delivery.

The crowd that had gathered around the carriage suddenly fell silent, their eyes filled with anticipation and disbelief. Some of the children bounced excitedly in front of their parents and were scolded in a hushed tone. However, not all of them seemed happy to see the king and his new fianceé. A few teenagers and young adults bore grimaces on their face, their hands either folded against their chest or planted on their hips. The older generation was more happy to see the king than the younger. Was it because they remembered when Claude’s father was around?

Past the archway, a stamped, stone road led into the city. The structures were similar to Nouchenne, but it appeared wealthier, and of a more grandiose size. The two-story houses were crafted of the similar gray stone materials with wooden, tudor-styles roofs. These houses were larger and more well-kempt than the ones in the other villages, giving the indication that they were for higher-class citizens. In addition, many administrative buildings, shops, and other structures were interspersed throughout the streets beyond. The entire city was built on a hill, and in the distance, a steeple with a large bell marked the top.

Stepping fully out of the carriage, Dagmara felt exposed to the onlookers. She expected Claude to release her hand after she was safely on two feet, so she was surprised when he only shifted his grasp, taking her hand so that his was in front as they approached the governor.

“Welcome to Sailonne,” Lionel said, “It has been a long time, Your Majesty.” Though the statement could have been a jab, there was no hostility in his voice. He approached the king while two people followed close behind.

Martine, Sabien, Claude’s two guards, and the dozen others from the palace that made the trip seemed to spread out, their eyes on the crowd, blocking anyone from getting too close.

“I’m happy we were able to visit,” Claude called. His voice had transformed, now boisterous and authoritative.

“We are honored to be the first province you are visiting,” Lionel stated. “To be honest, I wasn’t certain you would personally deliver the shipment,” he added a laugh to lighten the air, “but we are blessed to see you here.”

“It is my privilege,” Claude replied, his voice loud enough to carry across the entire crowd, “but we have to thank Princess Magdalena. It is because of the alliance with her kingdom that we are able to be so generous.”

Hushed whispers rang through the surrounding citizens.

“Yes, I understand,” said Lionel. His attention shifted to Dagmara, glancing at their interlaced hands so briefly, that she nearly missed it. “Might I say, you are a wonderful influence on our king, and so generous, especially after your tremendous loss.”

“I’m only so generous because of Claude.” Dagmara added a smile. “Trust me, Ilusauri is benefiting Azurem plenty with the reopening of the trade routes, it is the least our kingdom could do.”

She knew her Azuremi accent was thick as she tried to speak in Ilusaurian. She prayed that everything she said was grammatically accurate.

She felt Claude squeeze her hand slightly. Was he thanking her or telling her to stop speaking?

“But the personal delivery…we are beside ourselves that you brought His Majesty to visit when dropping off the shipment,” Lionel continued. “Might I invite you back to my manor for a glass?”

This was perfect. It was exactly what Dagmara needed to snoop through his manor for information on the assassins.

“I would love to, but I’m uncertain what else Claude has planned for today,” she said before glancing up at him, hoping he would agree.

Claude met her gaze. “I think we have an hour or two.” His eyebrow raised at her as if he was wondering for himself how long he had in such a new environment with so many people around. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe whatever was after his mind couldn’t reach him here.

“Wonderful!” Lionel exclaimed. “My head of resources will be handling the rationing and distribution,” Lionel gestured toward a woman on his right before gesturing to a man past her, “and my deputy will schedule the shipments to the surrounding towns.”

“Our hope is to bring another shipment by the end of the month,” Claude replied. “Captain Sabien Renaud can help coordinate with your leaders. He is familiar with everything we were able to provide.”

Sabien bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Martine, Pierre, and Sacha, accompany us, will you?” he said. All three nodded—and Dagmara finally knew the name of his other head guard.

The citizens seemed to keep their eye on the king as he walked with Lionel through the city and to the manor. Many who hadn’t come to the gates now lined the street, and others were leaning out of their windows to get a better look. Dagmara tried to acknowledge them, not paying any attention to what Lionel and Claude were discussing. She even waved at a little girl who bashfully hid her face against her mother’s leg. However, the mother seemed pleasantly surprised that Dagmara had paid her daughter any attention.

By the time they reached the top of the hill and the steeple at the center of the city, Dagmara could feel her heart pounding in her chest and sweat collecting on her lower back. She was grateful Lionel hadn’t asked her any questions so that she could save her energy and breath rather than trying to speak.

Inside the manor was a large staircase that caused Dagmara to slow her pace.

Claude caught her eye, curiosity edging his expression. She flashed him an uneasy smile and forced herself up the stairs. They reached the second floor hallway, passing an open door with a large desk—most likely Lionel’s study. Soon they rounded out of the hallway and into the main room at the end of the corridor, and a bright parlor came into view.

Lionel’s tea parlor was extravagant, with giant windows to overlook the city square. The steeple was directly across from them, the bell glistening in the sunlight. Martine stood near the table, Sacha by the entrance, and Pierre was making small talk with one of Lionel’s servants.

Dagmara only had to find the perfect moment to slip away.

The conversation that proceeded was remarkably boring. Dagmara was forced to feign interest the entire time, but luckily, Lionel and Claude seemed to tumble into a variety of conversations about the province that Dagmara had no input on. Anytime she was involved in discussions with King Bogdan, it was about assassinations she was responsible for or conspiracy theories surrounding the castle. She found that exceptionally more exciting than taxes.

She didn’t envy Magda. Certainly as a guardian, the silky skin, perfect health, and magical prowess were perks, but if she never had to discuss taxes another day in her life, Dagmara would be content. It must’ve been nice for Guardian Sora, the Celesta guardian. She was a Spirit Guardian, and didn’t have a single political responsibility, for political duties were taken care of by the tower. Besides, the guardians didn’t have much to guard for the last few centuries—according to the legend of the First Prince.

The First Prince will rise.

The haunting sentence carved into the cavern in Nouchenne caused Dagmara to shudder. Brushing aside the memory, she returned to the conversation at hand. Dagmara didn’t know how she would be able to sit through these conversations for the rest of her life.

That’s when she remembered—she was simply a placeholder. She was an imposter. She didn’t have to think about the rest of her life. What would happen if Claude wasn’t responsible for the murders? That meant, they would really go through with this marriage. What would happen when Magda returned from Flaustra and took Dagmara’s place?

Dagmara was so convinced that Claude was the monster, that the wedding would be annulled, and that Ilusauri and Azurem would go to war with one another. She had never thought about the opposing possibility.

When the conversation turned to shipyards, Dagmara decided she had remained present for long enough. It was time to search the manor and find out if Lionel had anything to do with the aliases of the assassins.

“Pardon me, I must use the powder room,” Dagmara said during a lull in the conversation.

“Down the hall, third door on your left,” Lionel said with a smile.

She rose from the table and went straight to the hallway. As she rounded the corner, she immediately sensed Martine trailing her.

Glancing over her shoulder, trying not to sound suspicious, Dagmara said, “I don’t need assistance in the powder room.”

“I plan to wait in the hall. I don’t know who is around here.”

Trying to rack her brain for a decent excuse to get rid of Martine, she returned her attention to the hallway in front of her and slammed against someone. Looking up, she met the gaze of the Ilusaurian Captain.

“Hello, Princess,” he said. “I’ll take it from here, Martine, remain by the king.”

“Yes, Captain,” Martine replied without any objection and retraced her steps.

“This is familiar,” Sabien said, his voice melodic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Dagmara. She bumped him on the shoulder as she passed, continuing out of the parlor and heading toward the powder room. When she reached the powder room, it was unlocked. Before entering, she eyed the door at the end of the hall, the woodwork more intricate than the other doors surrounding her. It was slightly ajar, revealing the desk inside. There had to be something in there. How could she get rid of Sabien?

Sabien spoke behind her, “I’m referring to how close we were in the library, when your chest was against mine right before we—”

Dagmara whirled around and lunged for the captain. She clamped her hand over his mouth, stopping him mid sentence. “Shh! What is wrong with you?”

She couldn’t see Claude and Lionel from their position in the hall, but their faded voices alerted her that they might be able to hear them.

She felt Sabien smile behind her palm, and he reached to grip her hip.

A sudden warmth surged through her body. She batted his hand away before grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him into the powder room.

She closed the door behind them before glaring at him. “No one can know about what happened in the library.”

“No one?” Sabien mused. “Or Claude?”

“No one includes Claude,” Dagmara snapped. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell him that I loved the way his betrothed tasted on my lips? No, I did not.”

Goosebumps ran down Dagmara’s arms, and her stomach flipped. She calmed her nerves enough to say, “You told him I received a letter from Teos. How do I know you’re not lying?”

Sabien let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “I only warned him in case your knight in shining armor showed up to win you back.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Teos is not a romantic interest.”

“I appreciate the clarification, but I wasn’t concerned,” said Sabien. “The kiss was barely a sample of what I can do.”

“Stop mentioning the kiss.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t tell my king everything. Including the secret you are hiding from him,” he said.

“I don’t have any secrets, you’re just trying to get a reaction out of me,” replied Dagmara.

“Oh, Princess,” Sabien said as he took a step closer, running a single finger along her jaw until his knuckles reached her chin. “There are many things I would do to get a reaction out of you, but none require a single word.” His hand found her hip again, slowly tracing the curves of her body. His lips inched closer to hers until she could feel his breath inches from her lips, causing her to tremble.

Then he withdrew, stepping away from her and lacing his hands behind his back like a soldier.

She felt his absence in a wave of emotion, her mind reeling.

A laugh rumbled deep in Sabien’s chest. “I’ll wait until you’re able to admit you feel something for me.”

“I’m marrying Claude.”

“As you keep reminding yourself,” Sabien replied.

“Even if I wasn’t, you certainly would not be my second choice.”

“I’m never a second choice. I’m always the first.”

“Claude is the first,” she snapped. “I mean, have you seen him?” She wanted to smash Sabien’s ego for good.

“If only you knew the truth about him.”

Dagmara’s breath hitched. “What truth?”

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Sabien said, his voice laced with pity. “And as soon as you find out, you’ll be mine.”

Dagmara scoffed before throwing the door open and storming into the hall. Her anger dissipated as she saw Martine waiting at the end of the corridor. Martine’s eyebrows raised as the captain stepped out of the powder room behind Dagmara.

Exiting the powder room with the captain was worse than being caught snooping. She couldn’t try anything now with them both nearby. Her attempt to search the manor without being caught was over.

She glared at Sabien over her shoulder, and by the smirk on his face, it was as if preventing her from snooping was the plan all along.