Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

TRESSYA

"Stupid, stupid girl. You've ruined everything."

I sat at my bureau, watching Radnisa's reflection through the mirror as she strode toward me. Her expression matched the fiery hatred of Juel's spirit as Bloodwyn had carried me to my horse.

She stood over me, staring down at my reflection. "You know I had a word with the Mother the day of our departure. I told her I would do my utmost to ensure you fulfilled your duty, but that I felt sure you would fail."

She leaned close to my ear. "All you had to do was spread your legs." She straightened. "But you couldn't even do that. Instead, you went and killed him."

Our eyes remained fixed upon each other. "You've lost your chance now. You've destroyed the Mother's plans. She'll cut you off. The Mother has no use for disciples who can't uphold their duty. Especially disciples who can't even command soul voice."

She arched a brow. "You've always been a disappointment to her. I believe it was because of your mother she kept you, trained you, though you showed no promise, even when you were little. And now, it's amounted to nothing."

"The king wants his alliance. There's still Andriet."

She laughed. "With you?" Then rapidly dropped her false amusement. "The king didn't even want you. Gossip below the stairs says he was bitterly disappointed on seeing you and was half tempted to send you back. Well, he'll send you back for sure now." She sighed. "Back to your father's court. And without the Mother's protection, where will your fate land? Nowhere good, I can assure you."

Once she was no longer glaring down at me, instead pacing away while she continued to whip me with her malevolent words, I dipped my head, closed my eyes, and exhaled long and slow. As much as I raged to refute every word, she was right, unless I could persuade the king to marry Andriet and I.

I lifted my head to stare at my reflection. My skin looked as pale as Juel's shortly before he died. I placed my elbows on my bureau and covered my mouth with my hands, staring at my reflection and seeing only defeat. I couldn't go back, not to the hostility of father's court. But I would rather endure an eternity of barbs from his court than face the Mother and the disappointment in her eyes.

Mother, you can't abandon me.

A knock at the door silenced Radnisa.

"What is it?" snapped Radnisa as she strode for the door.

The young maid flinched as the door swept wide. "What do you want?" Radnisa barked.

The young maid dipped her gaze and curtsied. She slunk past Radnisa and into the room. "Your Highness. The king has summoned you."

It seemed the king needed only one day to decide. That did not bode well for me.

Radnisa folded her arms and paced into the middle of the room, running her tongue inside her cheek. "That didn't take long," she mused.

"Thank you," I said to the young girl and rose from my stool.

She fled from the room, avoiding Radnisa's arrow sharp eyes. Once she'd closed the door, Radnisa strolled across to my bed and perched herself on the edge. "I hadn't thought he would move so quick." She ran her hand over the covers, as if smoothing away any wrinkles. "Don't worry. I'll pack your things while you're with the king."

"Do as you please," I said as I strode for the door.

In the corridor, I took a moment to steady myself. I knew there would be repercussions upon Juel's death, but I'd been disconnected from my feelings and couldn't think straight. How could I not feel triumphant in his death? The feeling, however, was sour, interlocked with doubt, and I'd sat at my bureau for hours trying to work out what it meant for my future.

Radnisa had spoken the words I feared. I released a sob, then muffled the noise with my hand and gritted my teeth, exhaling a shaky breath. I could make this work; I could save myself. I just had to be smart. The king had no reason to hold his end of the alliance when there was no prince to marry, but there was Andriet: my only hope.

I ran a hand down my skirts to straighten them when a young woman appeared in my path. "You gotta be 'er."

I glanced over my shoulder, checking for living servants in the hall, then back to the spirit servant girl with hair so thin in places I saw her pale scalp underneath. That wasn't the only thing about her that was thin. Her cheeks were hollow, wrists and collar bones were jutting angles, and her eyes were bulging as if about to pop from their sockets.

"I'm sorry. I have no time to talk. The king's waiting." I felt I couldn't dismiss the little waif without at least acknowledging her.

"Yeah, I know 'bout that."

"I suppose you do. What's your name?"

"Deliah."

"I'm sure you know mine."

She nodded, then did nothing else but stare at me.

"Can you tell me what the king wishes to say to me?"

"His son's dead, and he ain't shed a tear. Yeah, and he's gonna send you back."

"I thought as much." I sighed, as I stared ahead, already thinking of ways to make him change his mind.

"You got to change his mind 'cause you're the only one we can talk to. It ain't no good 'round here when all you got is the same pricks you been talkin' to for a century."

I ignored her plea, instead concentrated on making my plans. "What can you tell me about the Creed wizards?" Did they know of the treasonous plot between Lord Dowel and others. If so, perhaps they'd already told the king, and I would lose my leverage.

She made to spit on the ground. "Don't trust 'em. Wicked lot. They only care 'bout another Tannard sittin' on the throne."

"How many are there?"

"Too many. I ain't know for sure since their home is Emberforge. Rumor has it they hope to claim the Bone Throne."

"What's so important about the Bone Throne?"

"Powerful it was. As was he. It's the reason the Levenians invaded. Greedy lot. They wanted to steal the power for 'em elves."

"Wait. Who held the power, the king or the throne?"

"Both."

"I don't understand you."

"The king had a mighty power. But he needed the Bone Throne to…I don't know. I'm only repeating what I 'eard. It's confusin'. You'll 'ave to ask one of 'em pricks if you want to understand."

She had to mean Truett, Borrat and Albert. "So this Bone Throne is no longer powerful?"

"You gotta ask 'em lot. I'm dead. What do I care about anythin' anymore?"

"That explains why they've claimed Emberforge as their temple," I mused to myself.

Hurrying footsteps distracted me. Through Deliah's translucent body, I saw a maid reaching the top of the stairs.

"Oh, curses, the king," I said. Only at the last did I stop myself from accidentally passing through Deliah in my haste to get to the throne room. I skittered on my feet, then ducked around her, which must have looked queer to the maid, for she gave me a quizzical look.

"I know. The king's waiting," I said as I dashed past her and raced down the stairs.

I was almost at the throne room doors when a hooded figure emerged from the same shadowy alcove as he did on my arrival in Tolum. I yelped to a stop as he glided across the stone floor toward me. Half a head taller than me, he kept his neck angled in such a way as to keep his face in the shadow of his hood, giving me the slimmest glimpse of the ruddy color on the tip of his nose. "Princess," came that similar slimy voice.

Orphus.

Covered entirely in those thick woven gray robes, height was their only distinguishing feature; and now I had the tip of Orphus's nose I could use to discern him from his hooded Creed. As he neared, I called on all my resolve to stay where I was and not shrink away in revulsion.

In the few days I'd been at Emberfell, I'd spent little time in the presence of the Salmun. Andriet said they were the real strength behind Tarragona's wealth and power and yet they seemed content to float in the shadows, playing little part in the day to day running of the kingdom.

"Orphus, isn't it," I said.

At our first meeting, he smelt of rituals. Now I thought perhaps he'd been interrupted from cooking his dinner as the smokey smell of burned hopweed and fat overwhelmed me.

"Indeed, young princess." Like a snake, he trailed the word with a long hiss. "Shall we?" He gestured toward the doors with a bow.

Curses. I didn't want him present but was in no position to demand he stay outside the throne room. For a foolish moment, I lost my composure and slipped my mental barrier, probing outward, looking for a crack in that hard wall I'd encountered on our first meeting.

The hard wall was gone. My mind pierced inside without restraint, down, down, deep inside, down, down as a syrupy ooze bound to my mind and pulled me under, like my heavy wet skirts around my feet when I fell into the ocean. I floundered, unable to penetrate to the heart of his essence, unable to force my focus on my purpose. Instead, I drowned. This time, there was no one to save me.

Interesting. The ferocity of my beating heart was the only thing to mute the sinister voice as it echoed through my head. I flailed inside an ocean of shadows without a grip or a saving hand to help me heave myself free. I had to save myself. I tried to withdraw my awareness, but the syrupy feeling coating my mind hardened like dried sap.

I haven't finished with you yet .

No surprise, his mental strength was much greater than mine. I had no hope of wrenching free. Blessed Mother, my fate was not to be brought down by a ruddy-nosed, hooded creep.

I dragged in a sharp breath. Discipline. No one caged my mind. Then exhaled. At some point, fear had leaked into my veins. I yanked it close, wrapped it around my mind to use as spikes. Fear harnessed became a weapon, summoning my focus, sparking my awareness, amplifying my determination.

My jaw ached under the strain of my concentration, and my nails dug into my palm. The fine pain was my anchor, the place I pulled against to heave my mind free.

Discipline. This was a fight of wills, and I had to win. I focused on building my barrier, the void I buried my mind behind, but already, I felt a lethargy seeping into my mind, the exertion from the war between our wills as the binds of his mind towed me under. I thought of the ocean, what it had felt like to flail yet to find nothing, grasping for a hold that wasn't there. I clawed in a breath. The Mother had taught me to be better than this. I won't lose this fight. I couldn't lose this fight. Orphus would not master my mind.

You will not win . That was my solemn promise. I tunneled all my focus on the amorphous mass of my darkness, the emptiness that was my pit for all who dared to cross. I could feel the hollow expanse building around me, my body growing weightless. Unlike floundering in the ocean, I was floating, despite the weight of Orphus's hold. And it was freedom. It was empowerment. Then, out of that void, something grew, a feeling that tugged at a place deep inside of me, something so familiar yet ancient and comforting.

Aetherius . The illusionary, the indescribable, the true essence of myself. My soul word, the very thing that came to me from the depths of the void I'd created. Aetherius . The word resonated through my mind, like a volcano to blow the binds of Orphus's mental chains free.

I gasped, swaying for balance as I sprang forth from deep within my mind and into the corridor. I panted breaths as my heart raced. Aetherius was my savior. Our soul words as protective barriers against the mind control of soul voice was not something the Sistern taught in training. It was up to us as disciples to learn the truth. Neither was it logical to think the word that bound me when uttered by another was the same word to set me free when uttered by me. My soul word was my power.

The first prickle at the back of my neck rose in time with the soft shush of his cloak across the floor. He moved closer. The heat of his presence scorched along my side like a raging fire.

"The princess is not as we expected." His voice slithered across my shoulder like an unwelcome hand.

"I'm nothing more than a woman with a little mind trick, which would win her some coin at a town fair."

"Those who stay out of the light have the most to hide."

"I'm hardly hiding."

He was standing at my side now. "I fear the House of Whelin has played King Henricus for a fool."

This close, I could see underneath his hood to a face steeped in shadows. There was nothing distinguishable about his features except his hooded eyes, white as snow, and the dark smudges underneath. He had tattooed over his left eye two black ink-like lines forming a cross. The thicker line ran from brow to cheek, and the second, smaller line, started close to the base of his nose and ran across his cheek to slash through the other line close to its end.

"Father fulfilled the treaty under difficult circumstances. What happened to my sister was out of his control."

"Juel was an excellent rider."

The prickles were no longer confined to the places on my body closest to where he stood. They invaded my entire being, itching and crawling like beetles. "If you're searching for a killer, then you need look no further than his pride. I, too, am an excellent rider. He simply wouldn't let me win."

It was hard to say where his gaze landed on me, until he lifted one hand, pointing a long, yellowed nail at my chest. "What is that?" It was as though his voice glided through the air and across my chest.

I looked down, unsure what he meant, and saw the carved bone necklace. I covered it with my palm. "A trinket from a friend." It was strange Carlin's necklace should gain so much attention. I liked Orphus's attention on the necklace even less than the Razohan's.

"Bone." It wasn't a question.

"He worked with whatever he could."

Orphus tapped his two fingers together, so the long nails clicked against each other.

"Most interesting."

"The king is waiting." I had to flee from him and his serpentine voice.

"Indeed." Orphus inclined his head one more time. "The king does not like to be kept waiting."

I continued to the doors, conscious of Orphus following behind. He moved silently if not for the shushing of his cloak across the floor, but I couldn't shake the feeling of his essence, the binding of my body until I felt I couldn't breathe. My heart beat wild again, forcing me to take calming breaths as the sentinels swung open the large doors.

The king sat on his throne, half turned in his seat and staring out the vast stretch of window. Everything about today reflected the solemn mood that seemed to crush the atmosphere in the room, from the king's clothes to the deep gray clouds outside, to the weight laying heavy in my stomach.

Standing at the bottom of the dais and to the left of the king stood three men, one I had seen at the ball, Lord Arobet, but the others I didn't know. Each wore velvet and silk doublets adorned with embroidery and fine jewels and cuffs to cover their hands. They belonged to the king's council for sure, which meant any or all could be involved in the treasonous plot.

I shifted my gaze from them to the king, who'd yet to turn his attention from the window.

"Your Majesty." I bowed, for once trying to find the grace I lacked. There was only one man who I'd ever bothered to please, yet today was the day I would attempt to please the one man who could save me.

King Henricus stayed like stone, staring out the window as if I was a spirit.

Orphus glided past me, leaving me awash in tingling chills, and glided up the dais. He leaned over and murmured in the king's ear.

The king grunted, then turned to face me. I stayed in his hard gaze for a long time, averting my eyes to the floor so as not to antagonize him.

He huffed, then rearranged himself on his throne. "I'll be direct." He slouched into his seat. "Your presence in Emberfell is no longer needed. Your purpose was to give me an heir. And now my son is dead. You no longer have a purpose."

The king couldn't send me back to Aldorr, not to my father's court. While I adored the idea of seeing Carlin again, I couldn't face the Mother having failed her. I just couldn't. Was Radnisa right in saying the Mother would reject me if I returned?

"Your Majesty, if?—"

"The weather is against us, but come the first change in the winds, you'll be on that ship. You may stay at Emberfell until then, but I shall restrict your movements to the castle and its grounds."

"Your Majesty," Orphus said. "Perhaps it would be wise to rethink?—"

"My eldest is dead," the king shouted. "There is nothing to rethink. We no longer need her."

"Andriet…Your…Majesty," I stammered, which was met with huffs of derision from the three councilmen. Desperation had made me raise my voice, so I dropped into a low curtsey, keeping my head bowed. "I'm sorry for speaking out, Your Majesty, but your younger son?—"

"Is already betrothed. The bride is on her way."

I couldn't breathe as I jerked my head up to look at the king.

"We agreed upon the alliance. There is no going back," the king finished.

"Your Majesty, there are?—"

"Silence, Orphus. Stop sniveling in my ear."

Orphus was trying to undermine the king's determination. I wasn't grateful for his help. I had foolishly opened my mind to him—a terrible mistake any of my sisters would never have made—and now he possibly knew my secrets. Curiously, he spoke for me, not against me to the king. What could this mean for me? "Please, Your Majesty, I would like to ask for a word in private."

The sudden silence blew in like winds drawn by a storm, to be disturbed by a councilman, who stepped forward before the king and bowed. "The request is preposterous."

"Quiet," Henricus replied to the pompous man, then he looked at me. "These are members of my trusted council. What would you have to say that none present can't hear?"

I didn't want Orphus present but could think of no way of getting rid of him.

"Sire, I beg you to excuse my silence to your request. I assure you what I have to say in private will benefit you and Tarragona immensely."

"You can't possibly?—"

"Thank you, Lord Arobet, but it's a matter I shall deliberate on without the guidance of the council." He returned his gaze to me. "I'm intrigued. First she wants to marry Andriet, and now she gives me secrets."

"The princess is not to be trusted, Sire." The nobleman continued with his fight.

"It's not a trick, Sire. You shall hear for yourself."

"And why is one so shy as to request a private audience is my question?"

"I can only say you'll be glad for the privacy when you hear what I have to say."

"By being mysterious, she is deliberately trying to seduce you to her will. Sire, please, do not?—"

"Clear the room," the king announced with a wave of his hand.

"Sire—"

"That means you, Arobet."

The three lords glanced at each other, then reluctantly left the room, but Orphus stayed standing beside the king. It surprised me the king had agreed, but I doubted I could push Orphus from the room as well. While I loathed remaining in his presence, I knew he wasn't part of the treasonous plot, given the wizards' sole duty was to keep the Tannard line on the throne.

"It is as you wanted. I've cleared the room. Tell me, what secrets are so important that you would be so rude as to kick my council out?"

"Sire, I believe some of your trusted are plotting against you."

Moments passed, but the king's expression remained as if seized in stone. Then, slowly, his shrewd gaze cut deep inside of me as he gripped the armrests of his throne. "That is a treasonous claim."

"I have names."

"How has a stranger, who has not even spent a week within Emberfell, uncovered this plot?" Orphus asked, gliding forward on the dais.

The king didn't reprimand Orphus for speaking above him, instead, he glanced at Orphus as one would a superior. Here now, I was witnessing the true power of the wizards. Though they slunk in the shadows, Henricus knew they were the real power that kept him on his throne. He sat there like a servant awaiting his master's command.

"There is little that is hidden from those who remain in the shadows," I said.

The king looked to his wizard, seeking Orphus's judgement.

"Give us names?" Orphus said.

"There will be many more, but the people you want to question are The Duke of Eerlie, Earl of Vaelorin, and Lord Dowel."

The king's face drained pale.

Orphus took another step closer and stopped at the edge of the dais. "Do you understand what you're doing? These men are on the king's council. Very prominent and influential men. If it's proven you have lied, they will ask for your head."

"And if it's proven to be true, then I ask the king for a favor."

"And what may that be?" Orphus continued to speak for the king.

I focused on the king. "Allow me to think on my answer."

Orphus held his head at an angle, so I couldn't see his face, but I felt the probing of his mind, cautiously running across the surface of mine like a lutist's fingers light across the strings. In the king's presence, I tried to ignore his intrusion, hoping it was a subtle warning and nothing more, until the spear of his attack felt like a lance through my skull.

I groaned, pressing my hands to my temples.

"What is wrong with her?" the king demanded.

Eyes squeezed close, I tried to dredge up my soul word, but Orpheus's attack muddled my concentration.

"Is the woman mad?" The king's cry sounded faint.

This was a threat, or perhaps a lesson.

Discipline. A lesson I refused to heed. I abandoned trying to fight him, and instead focused on harnessing the wild thrash of my heart, the dizzying fear of being defeated and allowed my soul word to come to me.

Aetherius . It consumed my mind and poured into my veins like blood. Aetherius! My mental shout released the terrible force on my mind. I grunted with the shear effort it had taken to win free as Orphus staggered backward, clutching his head.

"Orphus," the king shouted.

"All is right, Your Majesty," Orphus intoned, holding up his hand to silence any more the king may say.

"Go," Henricus barked at me. "You there. Fetch my?—"

"The king need not concern himself with me," Orphus said, keeping his eyes on me.

I curtsied and turned to flee.

"I won't spare your life if you have lied," the king shouted behind me, but I didn't stop.