Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

TRESSYA

It was a miserable day, but the king insisted on a procession through the streets of Tolum as part of his grand festivities for the impending marriage of the crown prince. We were to travel in an open-top carriage, regardless of the weather, so the people of Tolum could see their prince and his future bride.

For this occasion, they had dragged Queen Gusselan from her bed. She was a refined woman, tall with a long slender neck, graceful in everything she did. Her beauty was the silent kind— becoming apparent the longer you looked.

I sat across from her in the carriage, noting her sallow complexion and pale lips. Her chambermaid had attempted to put life into her face by adding a little color, failing to hide the ashen hue of her skin. She avoided my eyes and said little. I wondered if she needed to harness what little energy remained in her frail body just to stay upright.

I had nothing to do but look pleasant and occasionally wave, so I dared to shift my vision and gazed at the queen. Darkness hugged her body, discoloring to a dull hue of silver. Death was already clawing for her, but she wouldn't die yet.

Judging by the distance between the king and queen, I felt sure Henricus wouldn't mourn her for long. The steps it took to place her on the throne were likely similar to mine; men of power making alliances through the women in their lives.

Andriet shared our side of the carriage, forcing Juel and me closer together. We kept our hands in our laps to avoid accidentally touching each other. Andriet sprawled in his seat, playing the enthusiastic prince, waving at the crowds, laughing, pointing, and clapping through the cheers.

Juel sighed and paid no attention to the crowd. Radnisa informed me they'd forced Juel from Lady Astaria's bed, grouching he would rather ride beside his mistress in the carriage than beside the ugly sow he was supposed to call wife. Radnisa filled me in on the things Juel said behind my back, even though I showed no emotion. I couldn't care less for Juel's opinion; savage words can't affect a heart that never opened, and for Juel, my heart was bolted closed.

"Juel. Smile," the queen said, the only words she'd managed to say. Once uttered, she collapsed back into her seat and closed her eyes. No one seemed to notice her struggles. Andriet was busy adoring the crowds. Juel stayed in his world, slouched in his seat with eyes hooded as if he was about to fall asleep, and the king stared blankly at the road we'd traveled, lost in his thoughts. No one except Andriet paid any attention to the people.

Behind and in front of us rode the royal guard. Flanking us either side on large gray stallions rode two wizards, their faces obscured by their hoods. The procession was a test of endurance, so I focused on seeing more of Tolum. Half the crowd seemed happy to see us. The other half were the reason we traveled with guards.

In pockets where the bustling crowds dissipated, I caught glances of the streets and noticed tiny stone shrines nestled amidst market stalls or at street corners. Despite their lovingly adorned exteriors graced with fresh flowers and meticulous care, these shrines exuded an ancient aura, seemingly on the brink of crumbling from their stone pedestals into dust.

I nudged Andriet to get his attention. "Whose small shrines are those?"

"That's the old religion. It's surprising they've survived so long. The Levenians freed us from enslavement to a complicated pantheon of gods and goddesses and showed us the truth."

"Which is?"

"That we control our own destinies and that no supreme ethereal powers are responsible for our failed crops or lack of rain. There are those who still hold to the old beliefs, though only a few. These small shrines are what's left in Tolum of their religion. They cause no harm, so Father is tolerant of them and allows them to continue their worship."

"Who worships at that temple?" I nodded toward the towering monstrosity I'd seen on first arriving in Tolum.

"Emberforge, the stronghold of the tyrants from millennium past. After the war, the victors abandoned Emberforge to build Emberfell and shifted their seat of power to the north of Tolum. The Salmun are the only ones now to regularly walk its silenced corridors. Within sits the Bone Throne, an artifact of their time, and the seat of their power. Only now it's nothing more than a relic built on death."

"It sounds like an impressive tale."

"Prophecies proclaim the resurgence of the Bone Throne's power. But that's a long and tedious tale to tell. It goes hand in hand with vengeance and war, but with a happy ending."

"What happy ending comes from a tale of vengeance and war?"

"It's said an heir from the House of Tannard is destined to win and claim the throne."

"It sounds like a narrative woven by someone with ancestral ties to the House of Tannard," I joked.

"Indeed. Are you bored yet?"

"Not with Tarragona's history."

Andriet arched an eyebrow. "What a peculiar woman you are. No one cares about those old stuffy tales, except maybe the Salmun and the king's council, and father, I suppose. As a child, I was brought up on these loathsome tales, but as the second-born, it's not my concern. I keep my mind free of them. They bore me senseless, but I was never a diligent pupil, and now prefer to squander my life in idle repose, which makes me the most agreeable and exciting of the two of us." He leaned in. "Personally, I would say you've lucked out on your betrothal. I would've ensured you spent your days in recline and your nights drinking, dancing and, well…whoring's not quite the word I'm looking for, but we all like to keep a few scandalous secrets, don't we?"

"Some people more than others."

Andriet leaned over, so I could hear his lowered voice. "She'll likely stay in his bed once the ceremony's over, but I sense that wouldn't displease you. Then, you can revel in satisfaction when he eventually dismisses her because of waning beauty or his fleeting interest. There'll be more after that, but it's only you that counts. After all, the sole enduring female legacy lies in the queen."

"As the second-born, what's your destiny beyond drinking, whoring, and idleness?"

"Nothing. I'll bow to my brother upon his throne and hope never to find myself in his place. An heir is all that father and the Salmun desire. Once that's settled, the spare can fade contentedly into the shadows."

Our heads close together, we muttered as though no one else was in the carriage. "That's not true. You have an astute mind and are keen to protect your heritage. I learned that listening to you the other night at the ball. I suspect Juel will rely on your counsel more than on those who sit at the king's table."

"You're dangerous, my queen," he winked at me. "I believe Juel will need you more than me." He settled back into the carriage. I joined him, our heads leaning against the seat, turned toward each other. "I'm joking, of course. You've caught me out. I could recite the prophecies and legends in my sleep. They filled me with many vivid dreams in my youth. I was always the victor.

"I'm not a boy anymore. And while I struggle to maintain any form of serious fa?ade, I'm dedicated to Juel's destiny. I'll gladly step into the role of knight, advisor, confidant, brother—whatever he needs from me. But never king. I have my limits."

"I hope that role also includes being a close friend and confidant to his queen."

He took my hand and placed it in his lap. "I promise you this, my queen: you'll be the only lady in my heart." He squeezed my hand before returning to look out at the crowds.

I stared at his profile, grateful I had found another man like Carlin. Though, it was my cruel fate he would never be my husband. But I was accustomed to knowing I would never have the life I chose. At least Andriet would always be by my side, even if never as a lover.

There was no better time than now to reveal the Razohan to the Tannards, but for some strange reason, I kept him a secret. He was here to destroy the House of Tannard, which made him my enemy.

Tell Andriet . I could still remember his smell. Fresh, wild, and free, it reminded me a little of Carlin.

And why should his smell make me abandon my duty to the Mother by allowing a threat this close to the House of Tannard?

"Andriet."

"Hmm." He drew his gaze from the crowd, bathing me in his generous smile, the smile he gave me on our first greeting.

I couldn't let the Razohan take him from me. "There's a threat to your family."

He chuckled. "There's always a threat to the royal family. One treasonous plot or another. I'm alert to most of what goes on amongst the courtiers. The Salmun take care of the rest." He patted my hand. "Don't be afraid. You're in the Tannard household now. Nothing will happen to you."

I remembered how silently the Razohan came upon me on the balcony, the power in his body when he pressed me into the pillar that night, the agility and grace with which he moved. His sword skills were hypnotizing. He was the perfect predator.

"I'm not afraid for myself." Perhaps I should be, but if he wanted to kill me, I would already be dead.

To hunt you. I was furious to learn that. Better it be poison than to force a bind around my neck; a love bind. I couldn't fathom his motivation. It wasn't much of a love bind as it gave me nothing; I felt nothing when he claimed he could now hunt me. Typical of a man to gain all the advantages in such a joining.

"Neither should you be." And he turned back to the crowd.

The words had haunted me through the night, but not as much as the traitorous spark of desire that had risen unbidden on first hearing the words. As a disciple, I should be infuriated, not… tantalized by the promise they offered, and that I wanted him to keep; I couldn't lie to myself. But only so I could keep my promise to cut out his heart.

Striking amber eyes stared down at me.

I blinked to clear the plaguing vision. The Razohan had cursed me.

Tell him.

My confession wouldn't come. I was keeping the Razohan my secret when he needed to be revealed, set before the Salmun. What foolish mistake was I making? I would give myself time to find out more about him, then deal with him myself. If it proved beyond me, I would confess what I knew.

I gazed across the carriage to find the queen's gray eyes narrowed into a steely glare. Andriet still held my hand, resting it on his thigh. Her eyes, however, stayed on me.

Etiquette dictated that I look away, but rather, I held her eyes with curiosity more than malice. Growing up in a royal court, I knew women rarely found allies amongst each other, and I knew little about Queen Gusselan. As an accomplished liar and manipulator, I wouldn't take Radnisa's word for the queen's character, but there was no question about the thoughts behind her glare. I was familiar with the expression of distrust.

Just as I was wondering who would look away first, the clattering of hooves on the cobbles, echoing louder than the carriage wheels and drowning out the cheering crowds, drew the queen's gaze over my shoulder.

Andriet and I sat straight in our seats. The king craned his neck to see the source of the commotion. "Halt," commanded the king. Beside me, Juel stirred and sat up.

I glanced around to see what had attracted everyone's attention to find some of the king's guards rushing up behind us. Between them rode a man dressed in the smart clothes of a nobleman.

Their sudden appearance stirred the crowd, but they soon settled when the king stood in the carriage. "What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed.

The two Salmun blocked their path to the king. After a brief discussion, they allowed the party to ride toward our carriage. It was only when they moved closer did I notice another man, whose hands were tied behind his back, running along behind the nobleman's horse, a thick rope ensuring he kept pace.

"Forgive this intrusion," shouted the nobleman.

I didn't recognize him from the ball.

"I've apprehended this treasonous wretch to present, so you might determine his punishment," the nobleman stated, bowing his head.

A heavy silence enveloped us. The king's glare settled on the nobleman, and I half-expected a command to bind the nobleman's hands and join him with the man sprawled behind the horse. The queen seemed engrossed in her hands. Juel appeared disinterested, and Andriet shifted beside me.

As the king prepared to speak, I found myself more attuned to Andriet's murmured words. "Lord Rudolph—the very example of how far one can fall from the king's grace. Penniless, dishonored, and despised. His survival depends on his sister's generosity. With her wealth dwindling, he's desperate to mend his reputation and regain the king's favor."

"Bring this traitor forth," commanded the king.

The guards jerked the man to his feet. He struggled to find his balance and collapsed to his knees, where they dragged him to the side of the carriage.

I turned slightly toward Andriet. "Do you know of his supposed treason?"

Perhaps he was in alliance with the nobleman I overheard in the library. Did the king already know about the plot? There went my potential leverage if ever I needed it.

"No treason," he murmured.

I dragged my eyes from the man, lying on his stomach beside the carriage, to face Andriet, ignoring the nobleman as he spoke.

Andriet's expression stayed solemn. With a finger on my cheek, he gently turned my face away so he could speak in my ear. "Not all men need to be desperate to do wicked things. This is one exception. Lord Rudolph is desperate. His enemies, and they are many, now circle him like wolves, hungry for his demise."

"He's made everything up?"

"It takes little to incite the poison of paranoia in every king's veins."

I caught the last of Lord Rudolph's conversation. "I beg the king's pardon, but I had to act with haste before any further damage was done. Shall I deliver the rest of the traitors' heads to you before sundown, so you may see for yourself the terrible canker growing beneath your feet."

I turned to the king. He looked pensive as he slowly nodded. "Very well. You have paid your blood debt to the crown."

"Sire, you are most generous."

The king shifted his attention to the guard. "Take the traitor to the dungeons. The Salmun will learn all he has to say before his head is staked on the gates outside Emberforge, alongside the other traitors."

Henricus motioned for the nobleman to move his horse closer to the carriage. "And if you ever think to disturb my official duties again, it will be your head staked outside Emberforge."

The nobleman's eyes flared, but he ducked his head. "Understood, Your Majesty."

"Blood debt?" I raised my eyebrows as I whispered.

"After one too many ales, Lord Rudolph gets loose with his dagger. He's left a few bloody corpses in his wake. Murder done outside the king's command is not warmly welcomed. His title has saved his head thus far, but Father's patience with him has run dry. He knows that. Hence the supposed traitorous plot."

"Does your father truly believe him?"

"Probably not. But he'd rather deal with a dead traitor, even if falsely accused, than face a live coup."

Henricus dismissed Lord Rudolph by turning his back on him and arching his head to gaze up the face of Emberforge. The nobleman quickly faded away with the guards, dragging the poor wretch behind him, and seeming keen to disappear from the king's presence. There was nothing I could do for this poor man's plight. I could only hope when Juel was king, I would have some sway over whose heads he took.

I drew my gaze from the sorry sight and turned my attention to Emberforge. This close to the temple, I could understand why they included forge in its name. The temple of black stone looked as though it had been forged from a giant's furnace and fashioned on an anvil into a mighty weapon.

"It's not part of my plan for today, but since we have stopped, I would like to step inside," announced the king.

On hearing that, a footman dismounted and rushed for the carriage door. Juel rose next. I was about to follow him, but Andriet squeezed my hand, sharing an apologetic smile with a small shake of his head. "Only the royal male bloodline." He looked embarrassed to say the words.

Juel smirked down at me as he straightened his dress cloak and swaggered as he dismounted the steps of the carriage. For the first time, Andriet didn't bother with a quip.

"The guards will keep you safe," was all he said, avoiding my eyes, before he dashed from the carriage to join his father and brother, now led by the two Salmun as they made their way toward the massive iron doors of Emberforge.

Alone together, the distance between the queen and me shrank. I watched the king and his sons disappear inside the temple doors, then turned to look ahead, casting a fleeting glance in the queen's direction. Her eyes were closed, her head leaning back against the seat rest. It surprised me little that the king would leave his sick wife exposed to the crowds under the weak sun while he visited the temple. The guards maneuvered their horses, which acted as a curtain between us and the crowd.

Waiting on the king was a primary lesson for any member of the royal court, so I settled back in my seat and stared up at the face of Emberforge.

"You've fooled many," came the strained voice of the queen. Soft and fragile, I almost mistook it for a comment from the few milling people beyond the wall of horses.

I glanced across at her to find her looking at me. Her breaths seemed heavy. Dark smudges, like shadows, hung under her eyes. After a few moments, her eyelids fluttered closed, as if breathing caused her strain. The first words she had spoken to me were accusatory, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for her predicament and hating the king's loathsome disregard for her condition.

"I'm sorry," I said.

She opened one eyelid. "Why would you care?"

"You're dying."

She nodded, as if I'd told her tomorrow would rain. Then she sighed and arched her head back on the seat. "It doesn't take a genius to see that."

With her eyes now closed, I took the time to stare at her, noting her smooth complexion despite having grown children. How old had she been when she married Henricus?

"Your Mother's plans are doomed. I've seen to that."

I was caught off guard this time, my eyebrows shooting up and my mouth hanging open in disbelief.

She flashed a smirk, but even that seemed too much for her to hold. It vanished within seconds, leaving her complexion blank and sallow.

"No link to the Sistern will sit on the Tannard throne." It was the longest sentence she'd made so far and left her inhaling heavy breaths.

I exhaled, gathering my composure. "I think there is little you can do if the Salmun want it." I didn't want to antagonize a dying woman, but the shock of her confrontation left me with no smart defense.

The queen snorted, a faint sound of disagreement. "You think that?"

Who was this woman? Why had the Mother not warned me of her? Had the Mother even known? The Sistern liked to move in the shadows. I'm sure there were other orders who did the same.

"How do you?—"

"Know," she interjected with surprising force. She closed her eyes, gathering her strength with deep breaths before speaking again. "Your naivety is appalling." She took another slow inhale. I waited, rigid with tension. "Your Mother knows less than she believes." I could tell she would say more, and the wait had me climbing out of my skin. "The Nazeen to the north. The Salmun in the south." She paused for another breath. "Tarragona is a void in their knowledge. Until you."

Instead of replying, I focused my attention, gathering the threads of my mind. Since leaving Merania, I'd not dedicated enough time to my practice in developing soul voice. Now was the perfect time.

"Don't think to control me."

It was like a punch to my face. My eyes snapped open to catch another smirk sliding from her lips. She rolled her head, looking beyond the carriage as if dismissing me. "I'm simply saving you the bother." Her lips twitched with a faint smile. "It wouldn't work anyway. I'm well trained in countering your pathetic mind games."

"Tell me who you are?"

"Is that a command?"

"No. But you're dying. Does your anonymity really matter now?"

She rolled her head away.

"I know about the treasonous plot."

She slowly rolled her head to face me again. "What plot is this?"

Her surprise sounded genuine. Maybe the conniving plot to kidnap Juel and me was not part of her plan to keep the Sistern from the throne. "It wasn't hard to find out."

"What plot?" she demanded. In her weak state, the demand was little more than a quiet plea.

"Perhaps it's connected with the dastardly treason Lord Rudolph uncovered. The king needn't worry now, I suppose." I mirrored her by turning away to glance up at Emberforge. What had she done to ensure no blood link to the Sistern would sit on the Tannard throne?

"I see through all your lies," she whispered just loud enough for me to hear. The queen was tiring.

"I truly am sorry for your condition, but you're the fool to think me blind. You were better off staying quiet, but now you have my attention." It wasn't a threat. In fact, I was grateful for the warning.

I sat forward and snatched her wrist before she could react, then turned it over and pushed up the flimsy lace sleeve of her gown. She was too weak to fight me, even though she tried.

"If I were you, I would have those I trusted prepare my food and drink." I ran my thumb over the mark I found on her inner right wrist, the one I'd thought was a bruise made by Henricus from grabbing her with uncaring, rough hands. It wasn't a bruise.

When I let her hand go, she dropped it into her lap, seeming to sag further into her seat as if she was about to fade into the leather and disappear.

"That gives me questions. But you're not willing to provide me with answers. But I'll get them."

The queen simply closed her eyes and rolled her head away as if in defeat.