City in Ruins (22 page)

Arien froze, his face full of open horror and
confusion, a maelstrom of emotions he couldn’t seem to sort
through. “My son,” he whispered, his gaze flicking to
Isabella.

The queen laughed. “Do you really believe I’d
kill my own grandchildren?”

A loud hiss filled the room as swords were
drawn, angry eyes directed at the queen. Murmurs rose up from the
servants along the hall. Blue cloaked men weaved stealthily through
the room, their hard gazes on the queen. The king’s
guard.

Isabella took a step back. “You needed saving!”
she shouted. “All of you!” She sneered, her gaze finding me again.
“Even now there’s a bastard child growing within this room, a child
who could make a claim to the Sadeemian throne.”

Stares found me, but I didn’t cower. I also
didn’t refute. There was one thing I wasn’t. I was not a
liar.

Daegan and Maeve gasped.

“Stone,” Maeve hissed, “is it true?”

Rather than answer, I turned and walked out of
the hall. “There’s one way to discover the truth,” I called over
the shoulder. “Tell me where the king is.”

Surprisingly, it was Arien who rushed from the
room, his feet falling into step next to mine.

“My father?” he asked. “Do you think you can
save him?”

I glanced at him. “I can try.”

People followed us, a caravan of spectators
forming behind us. I ignored them. It was the way of things at
court. People only cared about the magnificent things they could
see rather than focusing on the magnificent things life had given
them.

Picking up his pace, Arien led me into a secure
room on the second floor. Guards flanked it, but they stepped aside
when they saw the prince.

Arien nodded at them. “Allow only my brother in
here,” he ordered.

Cadeyrn had his mother to deal with, and I knew
by the stark pain I’d seen in his eyes that knowing she’d killed
his family had almost been too much for him. They’d not only been
killed, they’d been mutilated.

Swallowing past the bile that rose up in my
throat, I concentrated on the chamber, on the high, four poster bed
holding a king.

Freemont looked peaceful lying among velvet and
silk, his body sprawled just beneath the blankets. A thick bandage
wrapped his head.

“Was it a blow to the head?” I
asked.

Arien glanced at me. “We don’t know. We heard
cries, and then discovered him this way. A man from New Hope was
standing over his prone figure. We’ve always assumed it was a
blow.”

Stepping to the side of the bed, I climbed onto
the comforter, my body causing a small dent next to the
king.

“Your Majesty,” I said respectfully, my head
bowing.

Lifting my hands, my palms burning, I laid them
against his head. Energy exploded along my skin, and I fell back,
my gaze widening.

Arien stared at me. “What?” he asked. “What is
it?”

My hands found the king’s head again. “He’s
been marked by enchantment. Even if I can heal him, I’m not sure I
could get past the magic to save him.”

The prince leaned close. “You have to try,” he
insisted.

Inhaling, I bore down with my hands, my fingers
slipping into the king’s coarse hair. Energy shot up my fingers,
burning me. The pain lanced into my arms, but I kept pressing
forward anyway, my teeth gritted. It wasn’t until an odd black fog
began forming behind my eyes that I recoiled.

“I can’t,” I told Arien, my voice full of
anguish. “I can’t risk it. Whatever she’s done to the king, the
same fate will visit whoever attempts to save him.”

Arien studied my face. “You
are
carrying my brother’s
child, aren’t you?” he asked. “That’s why you won’t risk
it.”

My chin rose. I didn’t lie. “Yes.”

Pushing his hand through his hair, Arien looked
at his father. “Do you think it was my mother? Do you think she did
this to him?”

I did, but I didn’t tell him that.

My head shook. “You and your brother have been
told enough lies. I don’t know who did it, Your Majesty. I won’t
make false accusations, but whatever was done, it was done with
magic.”

Arien’s face fell to his hands. “I’ve been
raised for this you know, and I’m still not sure I can do it.” He
glanced at me. “I mean, look at me. I let my mother convince me to
make a trade for my son, and he lost his life. My son.” His words
caught on a sob.

I reached for him, my fingers finding his
shoulder. “She was your mother, Your Majesty. People should be able
to trust their mothers. What you did was out of love. Your son,
wherever he is, knows that.”

“My wife,” he muttered. “She hasn’t been the
same since.”

I pictured the Yorbrook princess Arien was
married to, and I couldn’t help but think of SeeVan.

“Those who can survive the jungle, can survive
anything,” I said. They were SeeVan’s words, said in passionate
fervor during one of his stories. My fingers tightened on the
prince. “Maybe she hasn’t been the same because the two of you
haven’t been the same. Your mother has badly influenced you and
your brother’s relationships. Give your wife a chance,” I told him.
“Heal together. Don’t heal apart. If you heal together, then you
can grow together. If you heal apart, you may never find your way
back to each other again.”

Arien’s gaze moved up to mine. “For the longest
time, I blamed you and your country,” he said. “For the longest
time all I wanted to do was destroy you all.”

My heart hurt for the pain the prince was
enduring, for the pain that Isabella had put both her sons through.
Losing a loved one was devastating, but the thought of losing a
child … my hand flew to my stomach.

“Hatred breeds hatred,” I said
finally.

Arien sighed, his hand finding his father’s
face. “We have a lot of things to make up for in this family,” he
said.

He wasn’t talking to me anymore, and I stood. I
was just about to step free of the room when Arien said, “Thank
you.”

I’d not been able to save a king, but maybe,
just maybe, I’d been able to save his kingdom.

Chapter 32

It was sunny the day the Queen of Sadeemia was
dragged onto the practice fields behind the palace, her hands tied
behind her back, her eyes full of hatred. There were
representatives from each of the Nine Kingdoms present, including
two dragons from Medeisia. Accusing a royal of a crime wasn’t a
simple matter. To punish royalty in the eyes of the law required a
trial and the presence of ambassadors and kings.

Arien and Cadeyrn sat in judgement.

Queen Isabella’s crimes weren’t just against
Sadeemia. They were also against New Hope, Medeisia, and
Henderonia. In many ways, her hatred had brought three countries
together and united them. The irony was not lost on me.

The lawn was covered with spectators, the
murmuring crowd circling the field. I stood between Lochlen and
Reenah, close enough to hear the trial but far enough to protect my
heart. So many crimes. So many people lost.

One by one, people came forward, revealing
secrets about the queen. Some of them we knew, some we suspected,
and some we’d not been aware of at all. Queen Isabella had
connections all over the Nine Kingdoms. It had been Isabella who’d
been able to procure the Black Root from Dearn that Gabriella
attempted to kill me with. She’d been the mastermind behind her
father’s imprisonment, she’d been the one to formulate the plan to
take out Medeisia, and she’d been the one to send Gabriella to the
Isle of Marr to kill Cadeyrn’s unborn son and to destroy me.
Strangely, it was Blayne who had saved my life. He’d wanted to see
me suffer where Isabella only cared to see me dead. Had he not
asked Gabriella to bring me to New Hope, I would have died on Marr.
It also turned out that Isabella had mercenaries from Yorbrook on
retainer, her despair over her sons’ marriages making her
desperate. Had she not been found out, more people would have
died.

Cadeyrn was the last person to approach his
mother, his fists clenched.

His gaze searched her face. “I’m going to ask
you again,” he said. “Did you kill my wife and son?”

Deep down, we all knew she’d committed the
crime, but this was closure for Cadeyrn. He needed to hear the
words, as if hearing her confession would close that chapter in his
life somehow. Sometimes the hardest things to hear are the things
we need to hear the most.

Queen Isabella’s head lifted, her gaze swinging
to the crowd.

“Did you kill my wife and son?” he
repeated.

Her gaze swung back to his. She was going to
die, and she knew it. “Yes,” she spat.

Cadeyrn exhaled, and even from across the lawn,
I could feel the weight of his sigh.

After the trial, Queen Isabella was left
guarded on the lawn, her hands tied to a post on the training
field. She stood for a half a day before a verdict was passed
down.

In the end, it was decided that she was to die
of Black Root poisoning. It would be a painful and poetic death,
the toxic root seeping through her veins for all to see.

In the end, it was Cadeyrn who gave it to her.
And while Arien looked away at the end as frothing bubbles ran out
of the sides of the queen’s mouth, her black, bloated body
convulsing, Cadeyrn never did.

He watched, and truth be told, I watched with
him.

I didn’t rejoice in her death, but I was happy
to see the end of her reign of terror.

Chapter 33

It was the night before my return to Medeisia
when Prince Cadeyrn came to me. How I knew he stood on the other
side of my door, I’ll never know. But I knew, my palm pressing
against the wood before I pulled it open. He’d never even gotten a
chance to knock.

Stepping back, I let him enter.

Tonight, for the first time in our
relationship, we were switching places. Tonight, when his heart was
full of chaos, he was coming to me to calm it. There were no words
between us. He simply stood before me, his hand lifting to brush
the hair from my face, his gaze searching my eyes.

We were beyond words now. We’d traveled to a
place without words.

As powerful as it was to speak, as powerful as
it was to know things, it was just as powerful to listen. It was
just as powerful to love.

I touched his face, the shadowed whiskers on
his jaw burning my palm, before letting my fingers sink into his
hair.

I’d gone often to the prince to draw strength
from him in the past. Tonight, I wanted to return the favor. I’d
learned a lot about my powers over the past two years, and it had
strengthened me.

Grabbing Cadeyrn’s hand, I tugged him toward
the window in my room. It was open, as it usually was, the moon
shining over the city below, the light glinting off of the ocean in
the distance.

Stepping in front of the prince, I drew his
arms around me.

“Listen,” I whispered.

Clutching him, I called on my magic, the feel
of it rising inside of me, the power almost suffocating. I didn’t
stop. I kept pulling until I felt the weight of the forest
surrounding us both, the heavy taste of pine and berries on my
tongue, the smell of soil and flowers invading my
nostrils.

Beyond the castle, the trees spoke
softly.

“Good evening, Your Majesty,”
they called.

Cadeyrn’s arms tightened around me.

“Is that—?” he began.

Smiling, I nodded.

This world, the world of forests and the
creatures in it, was mine. I admit, I was selfish, their love
wrapping me in an embrace I never wanted to escape from. I didn’t
know if I’d ever be able to share it with the prince again, and so
I shared it with him now.

“Listen,” I told him.

Beyond the castle, the trees murmured, the
ocean sang, and creatures whispered. Somewhere over the sea, two
seagulls dove in a late night game.

“What did the dog say to the cat
when he didn’t get his way?”
the first
seagull asked.

“Dog gone it!”
the other seagull answered.

Behind me, the prince winced. “You’re right,”
he said. “They really do tell bad jokes.”

Together, we listened to the forest,
to the ocean, and to the world. Because that’s what the prince
needed to find himself. He needed to stop and listen. He needed to
be a
part
of the
world.

Sighing, Cadeyrn held me, his chin falling to
my shoulder, the breeze ruffling his hair. His hands fell to my
waist, one of his palms splaying across my stomach.

“You needn’t worry,” I told him.

My hand fell over his, and I called to the
potted plants sitting in my room. From the soil, vines suddenly
sprung upward before jumping to the floor. They crawled across the
space, inching their way slowly over to our feet. Climbing us, they
circled our bodies and built a crown over our hands.