Legacy (4 page)

Cannan was striding down the steps of the dais, jaw clenched. He halted next to London and yanked Nantilam to her feet. My bodyguard rose, and I barely registered, above the wild beating of my heart, the clatter as the small dagger the prisoner had been clutching landed on the floor.

London reached out with one hand and jerked the silver chain from the prisoner's neck, examining it thoroughly, for the pendant looked broken. Picking up the dagger, he carefully
fitted it into the portion of the pendant that dangled from the chain.

My father had risen to his feet and was now twisting the royal ring in agitation, his expression a mixture of disgust and fear.

“Take her away,” he ordered. “Bring her before us again at the end of the week with a looser tongue.”

Kade signaled to his guards, who grabbed the prisoner by her arms and pulled her away from London and Cannan. She did not resist, but her cool gaze never wavered from my father's face.

The men conferred in the aftermath of the incident while I pondered the question the King had repeatedly posed.

“Father,” I asked, when I finally had an opportunity to approach him. “Why did you demand her name when we already know who she is?”

My father's brow creased.

“We do not know who she is, or what she is doing in Hytanica. All we know is that she is a Cokyrian intruding upon our home, and we intend to discover the reason.” He considered me, his frown deepening. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“I'm sorry,” I mumbled. “I just assumed.”

I left the Hall of Kings in a muddled state, wanting to talk to London, who had stayed behind in discussion with Cannan. I knew, however, that he would soon return to duty as my bodyguard, providing ample opportunity for me to satisfy my curiosity and clear up my confusion.

THOUGH THE INTERROGATION HAD NOT yielded any information about Nantilam, the next few days did indeed prove to be notable. Cannan had organized a search of the entire kingdom for other Cokyrians who might have been aiding our prisoner in her as yet undetermined scheme; he also had put additional security measures in place within the palace. No member of the royal family was to be left unguarded at any time for any reason, which meant that London was now on duty twenty-four hours a day. In addition, Kade, at Cannan's direction, had posted Palace Guards around every corner, and areas that were already under guard were reinforced so that it was impossible to be alone under any circumstance.

As the initial flurry of activity subsided, my father tried several times to talk to me, no doubt about choosing a suitor, and how that suitor should be Steldor. While I was confident he would never
force
me to marry Cannan's willful and arrogant son, I also knew he would not understand my resistance to the match. Most people agreed with my father's assessment of Steldor, and it pained me to witness the adoration that was heaped upon him; it seemed every young man wanted to be
like him and every young woman wanted to be in his arms. Giggling girls were the worst—from their point of view, he was status and wealth wrapped in a very enticing package, and they did not seem to mind that he toyed with them for his own amusement. But I needed neither status nor wealth, and had no interest in being used for entertainment.

Ultimately, my father did manage to confront me about my marriage prospects. I was lounging on the sofa in my parlor in the early evening when there was a knock on the door.

“Should I get that, or do you want to pretend you're not here?” London asked from where he was placidly leaning against the wall in the back of the room.

“You can answer it, if
you
wish to do so,” I replied with a shrug.

I tried to disregard his last comment. It was true that I used that ruse on occasion when I was trying to avoid someone, and London knew I was not looking forward to a conversation with the King. In any case, he went to the door and granted entrance to my father, who swept across the threshold before I had time to mentally prepare.

“Alera,” he said cheerfully. “With all that's been going on, I feel as though we've been dodging each other!” He chortled at what he considered to be a joke. “It's good to finally have some time when we can talk.”

“Shall I step outside?” London offered from his position by the open door.

“No, no. That's not necessary at all. I'll only be a moment. Besides, you'd probably run afoul of one of your captain's rules if you did. I wouldn't want to be responsible for getting you in trouble with Cannan!”

London closed the door and rested against the wall, arms
crossed in his usual manner, while my father came to sit beside me on the sofa, spurring me to straighten my posture.

“As I was saying, Alera. I had intended to speak to you on the night of your birthday, but things got a bit chaotic. Thank goodness for Cannan's clear head. If it weren't for him, I don't know what sort of mess we'd be in right now.”

London bristled in an uncommon show of annoyance that my father was giving Cannan credit for dealing with the intruder. All the same, he held his tongue.

“What I would like to discuss with you is the selection of your husband,” my father continued, his brown eyes warm and affectionate. “I was delighted to hear from Lord Steldor that he greatly enjoyed the evening he spent with you. Tell me, has any other young man caught your eye?”

While almost any young man might have been better than Steldor, I could think of no one whom my father would be willing to seriously evaluate. Steldor was clearly the heir apparent; he had been groomed his entire life to be successor to the King.

“I'm afraid not, Father.”

“I will not conceal my thoughts from you,” he responded, a satisfied air settling over him. “I am content that Steldor is the only young man under consideration, and I am quite heartened that he has shown an interest in you.”

I suppressed a grimace, having noticed that my father was far more concerned about Steldor's opinion of me than he was about my opinion of Steldor.

“Lord Steldor is…a remarkable person. But I am not convinced he is the man I should marry.”

“What can you possibly mean, Alera?”

“I simply mean…” I was scrambling for a rationale other than the truth, which he would not find sufficient. “I see
Steldor only as a friend. Perhaps it would be better if he were to marry Mira.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “If he married Miranna, he wouldn't become King.”

“But she is better suited to his…personality.”

“And he is better suited to rule than anyone else in this kingdom.” My father's rising level of frustration was evidenced by the increasing animation of his hands. “And ability to rule is the primary basis upon which this decision is to be made.”

“I understand that, Father,” I acknowledged, looking toward the floor.

He cupped my chin to raise my face to his, and his countenance softened.

“It is surely not a big step from friend to husband. I insist you envision Steldor in that capacity.”

“Yes, Father,” I murmured, deciding it was best at this time to go along with his desires.

“Very good!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, his cheerful mood restored. “Then I shall inform him that you are receptive to his advances.”

Before I had a chance to protest, my father stood and whooshed out the door.

“No,” I whispered, the color draining from my cheeks. “What have I done?”

I caught the smirk forming on London's lips and sprang to my feet.

“Don't you dare laugh,” I said indignantly.

“I wasn't going to,” London insisted, though the smile did not fade from his eyes.

Feeling tense, I sent for Sahdienne to draw a bath for me. My bath chamber met its practical purposes with a washbasin on a stand and a garderobe built into the side wall of the castle.
What made it unique, however, was the large tub that was sunk into the tiled floor. Water was supplied to the room by pipes that ran within the walls to one of several wells serving the palace and was heated by virtue of the double-sided fireplace that served both my bedroom and parlor.

While I bathed and continued my preparations for bed, London waited in the parlor. Until Cannan's recent orders, his assignment as a bodyguard had not required him to be within my quarters while I attended to such personal tasks, and I could imagine his discomfort now. Finally ready to retire, I dismissed Sahdienne and opened my bedroom door a crack to murmur good-night to him.

Slumber eluded me, for I couldn't stop wondering what the morning would bring. I knew the Cokyrian prisoner would be dragged before the King and the captain once more, and I was even more determined than before to be in attendance. Yet it seemed likely that my father would forbid it.

I had at last begun to doze when something from the previous interrogation came rushing back, and I hastened into the parlor where London was reclining on the sofa. Before I could speak, he was on his feet, causing me to jump in alarm. His practiced eyes scanned the room for an enemy before settling on me.

“And why are you not in bed?” he asked, irritated at having been disturbed for no good reason.

“How did you know?”

He stared at me, baffled. “How did I know what?”

“How did you know she was the High Priestess and that her name was Nantilam?”

“I was mistaken,” he said, his expression clouding over. “It was speculation that I unwisely made known to you. Now,
can I get some peace or do you want me to read you a bedtime story?”

I rolled my eyes—London's sarcasm a clear indication he was not in a talkative mood—and withdrew to my bed to fall into a fitful slumber. I woke while it was still dark and, after much tossing and turning, sat up to get a drink of water. I poured myself a glass from the pitcher on my nightstand and took a sip, knowing I would not get back to sleep unless I was able to walk around and mull things over. But I also knew I would never be able to get past London and that he would not embrace the idea of a late-night stroll.

I decided to chance it. Maybe the Elite Guard had dozed off and would not wake to the sound of quiet footfalls. I slowly opened my bedroom door and tiptoed into the parlor. I was about to go into the corridor, amazed at my luck, when I glanced back to the sofa on which London had been resting. He was not there.

I stepped closer to where he should have been, thinking my vision was distorted by the darkness, but there was no sign of him. “London?”

Only silence filled the room. I opened the door to the corridor and peered down its dimly lit length, but he was not in sight.

Suddenly losing the will to wander, I opted to curl up in bed, worried about where London had gone. Why would he have left me unprotected, against his orders? Had there been some problem that had caused him to run off in the middle of the night? I lay quietly for what felt like hours, at long last falling into a troubled sleep, my dreams haunted by images of the terrible fates that might have befallen my bodyguard.

The following morning, I awoke and went straight to the
bath chamber, not wanting to check on London for fear he had not returned. I dressed with Sahdienne's help, electing to wear my silver-and-diamond tiara so that I would have an air of authority for this second interrogation.

After Sahdienne had curtseyed and left, I walked into the parlor where, to my relief, London was waiting next to the door in his characteristic stance, back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. We surveyed each other for a short while before either of us spoke.

“What?” London smirked. “Did I put my shirt on backward or something?”

“No!” I blurted, realizing I had been staring at him wordlessly for an inordinate length of time. “I was just wondering where you were last night.”

London's smile disappeared and he shifted his position.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I got up in the dark and you weren't here.”

“I didn't go anywhere. I might have stepped into the corridor for a moment, but other than that, I was here all night. Perhaps you were dreaming.”

“Pretty vivid dream, I'd say.” I bit my lower lip in agitation. “Why are you lying to me, London?”

“I'm not lying to you!” he snapped, pushing away from the wall, his eyes flashing. “Are you accusing me of abandoning my charge?”

“No, of course not,” I said, taken aback by his anger.

Abandoning his charge would mean disregarding everything he stood for, all the oaths he had taken as a soldier of Hytanica and a member of the King's Elite Guard. It would mean forfeiting his career, perhaps even his life.

“I didn't mean to imply any such thing. I'm sorry if I offended you. I was just…curious.”

“If you still want to witness that interrogation, we'd better be going.” His manner was brusque and his voice still simmered with indignation.

We walked in silence toward the spiral staircase, a sense of shame resounding within my chest at how I had spoken to London, and at how he had reacted, though I knew he would pardon me. As we descended the stairs to the first floor, loud and disgruntled voices drifted to us from down the corridor, and my father, the captain and four Elite Guards came into view.

“How can this be?” My father's voice was frantic, and he was almost spinning the royal ring upon his finger.

“She must have escaped during the night. When Kade went to retrieve her this morning, she was gone.” Cannan's response was calm, but worry lines creased his forehead.

“Is there a problem?” London queried, attracting the attention of the others.

My father cut in before Cannan could speak. “Our prisoner broke out sometime during the night and has fled.”

“Has the area been searched? She may still be on the palace grounds.”

“Yes, the search of the palace and of the grounds has turned up nothing,” Cannan replied, seeming rankled by London's tendency to usurp his authority. “I've expanded the search throughout the city and have alerted our border patrols, but so far, we have found no trace of her.”

“How could she have escaped?” I blurted, unable to stop myself, though I knew I was not the one who should be asking questions.

Cannan gave me a stern glance but responded nonetheless.

“That is yet to be determined. According to Kade, her cell
was locked, exactly as it should have been, except she wasn't in it.”

“None of this makes sense!” my father exclaimed, emphasizing his words with gestures so sweeping that the rest of us took a step away from him. “It's impossible to escape from our dungeon, with or without the surveillance of the guards!”

“I have asked Kade to summon for questioning any guard who was on dungeon duty last night,” Cannan replied. “Unless the Cokyrians really are as clever and cunning as myth suggests, the men should be able to provide some answers.”

“Blame the traitor!” one of the Elite Guards who had accompanied the captain and the King cried out.

“Tadark!” Cannan reprimanded the young lieutenant harshly. “Enough!”

“There is a traitor among us, make no mistake,” Tadark defiantly repeated. “The prisoner could not have escaped without help, and only someone who was already in the palace would have been able to gain entry to the dungeon.”

Tadark then dramatically addressed my father. “My only request is that you sleep lightly, Your Highness, and be wary even in the presence of your most trusted guards.”

“Enough!”
Cannan thundered, his voice so severe that I momentarily felt sorry for Steldor if he'd ever had to endure the wrath his father expressed in that one word.