Lord of the Shadows (38 page)

lenor rode alone in the carriage as they entered the grounds of the Lord of the Suns’ palace. Kirsh was riding in the van with Sergey and the significantly increased Senetian Guard he'd collected in Avacas. Her own guard had been reduced to riding in her wake, a clear insult to them. Kirsh's message was quite blunt and insulting. The Queen's Guard had harbored Alexin Seranov and many of them had known of his affair with the queen. They could no longer be trusted to protect her.

The closer they came to Bollow, the more frightened for Alexin she had become. Alenor did not fear for her own life. She had made her own decisions and was willing to bear the consequences, but Alexin should not be made to suffer. She was the one who had made the first move. Alexin would never have kissed her if she hadn't invited it and he would certainly never have made love to her without her making it quite clear she wanted him to. He was far too aware of his position in the guard to do anything so foolish.

It was her fault. She was the queen. It was her responsibility.

Kirsh had not physically mistreated Alexin. He didn't have to. The humiliation of riding in chains, surrounded by Senetians, as they rode first through Kalarada and then Senet was more than enough pain for him to bear. His shame was reflected in the eyes of every Guardsman, his dishonor a stain that would leave an indelible mark on them forever.

Assuming there was a forever. Antonov might well order the guard disbanded. Kirsh certainly wanted to be rid of them. His childhood dreams of honor and glory among the Queen's Guard were well and truly shattered. Alenor suspected his anger was as much about his broken dreams as it was about a captain in the guard having an affair with his wife. Had she taken a civilian lover, Kirsh might not have been nearly so angry. She almost
felt sorry for him. Kirsh had been betrayed by so many people. First by Marqel, then by Alenor and now the Queen's Guard. He could do nothing about Marqel and was limited to what he could do to Alenor because of her rank. But he could, and would, vent his wrath for all the ills that had befallen him on the Dhevynian Queen's Guard.

The carriage drew to a halt outside the front entrance to the palace. The door opened and an unfamiliar hand reached in to help her down. Alenor felt exhausted by the journey from Avacas, although she suspected it was because she had worn herself out worrying, rather than the strain of the trip. As she stepped down onto the gravel, the palace doors opened and a servant hurried out with a cape to protect her from the rain. She was climbing the steps, her head bowed against the downpour, when Dirk appeared beside her. He was soaked to the skin, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, and his boots were spattered with mud, as if he'd been riding.

“Hello, Alenor.”

The sight of him made her want to cry. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to make the world right again. But she had no idea what Dirk would do. No idea if he would even try to help her. As Lord of the Suns, it was his duty to condemn her adultery. But there was no hint of censure in his eyes, not trace of anger in his smile.

“Let's get you inside out of this rain,” he suggested.

They hurried through the door, followed by Kirsh, who shook a shower of raindrops from his cape as they stepped into the foyer.

“Where's my father?” Kirsh asked, not even bothering to greet Dirk.

“I'm not sure,” Dirk told him. “He went hunting this morning and I've only just gotten back from the city myself. I don't even know if he's here.”

“Where is the Lion of Senet?” Kirsh demanded of the nearest servant.

“In his room, I believe, your highness,” the man answered with a low bow. “He only just—”

“Fetch him. We'll be in there.” Kirsh pointed to the open doors of the morning room, where a rare fire had been lit against the cooler weather.

“Perhaps Alenor would like to get changed first,” Dirk suggested.

“Alenor is just fine as she is.” He turned to the servant im
patiently. “Are you deaf, man? Fetch my father!”

“Kirsh…”

Dirk's appeal had no effect. Kirsh pulled off his riding gloves as he strode across the black-and-white tiles toward the morning room.

“Where's Alexin?” Dirk asked her in a low voice, watching Kirsh with a frown.

“With Kirsh's men. We left him in the garrison in Bollow on the way here.”

Dirk frowned. “I must have just missed you.”

“Dirk,” she hissed urgently. “What's going to happen?”

“Alenor!”

She bit back the rest of her question and hurried to answer Kirsh's summons. She was afraid to do anything that might anger him further at the moment. Dirk hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Perhaps he would be able to delay the servant sent to fetch Antonov.
Perhaps
… Alenor's life had far too many uncertainties in it at present for her to be sure of anything.

Kirsh stood in front of the fire and waited, his hands clasped behind his back, deliberately not looking at her. Alenor perched on the edge of the settee, wishing a servant would come and offer them wine. She could do with a drink. She wanted to get drunk.

“Alenor!”

She almost sobbed with relief when Jacinta hurried into the room. Jumping to her feet she embraced her cousin, hoping to absorb some of Jacinta's strength for the coming ordeal.

“Look at you, Allie, you're all wet. Come on! Let's go get you changed into something dry.”

“Alenor is not going anywhere, my lady,” Kirsh informed her.

Jacinta turned to Kirsh impatiently. “Don't be ridiculous. There is nothing so important it can't wait until you're both clean and dry. You'll catch your death, too, if you don't get out of those wet clothes.”

“I'm touched by your concern, my lady.”

Before Jacinta could answer, Dirk came back. His hair was still damp but he had changed into dry clothes. A servant followed him carrying a tray of glasses and began to offer them around. Alenor snatched at the wine and downed most of it in a single gulp.

“Your father's on his way down,” he told Kirsh, waving away the servant who offered him a drink. “And the Lady Jacinta does have a point, Kirsh. Are you sure you and Alenor don't want to change first?”

“I'm sure.”

“As you wish,” he shrugged. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Good enough.”

“The weather's been awful,” Jacinta added.

“Hasn't it,” Alenor agreed, tonelessly.
I'm about to hear my lover condemned to die and we're talking about the weather.

“I hope it clears up by tomorrow,” Jacinta added. “It'll be such a pity if we miss the eclipse because of the clouds.”

“I'm sure if the Goddess has gone to the trouble of arranging an eclipse,” Antonov remarked as he strode into the room, “she'll make sure we are able to view her handiwork.”

They all turned to face the Lion of Senet. Alenor's worst fears were realized when she saw the look on Antonov's face. Kirsh had sent word on ahead of their arrival in Senet, and the reason they brought Alexin with them as a prisoner, so at least she would be spared having to listen to Kirsh deliver the news. But Antonov was furious.

“Father.”

“Kirsh.”

Antonov turned his leonine head toward Alenor and stared down at her. She had grown up terrified of the look he now wore, praying it would never be directed at her.

“I'm very disappointed in you, Alenor,” he said.

“I …” she began helplessly. She didn't know how to answer him. Her eyes fixed on Dirk, begging him silently for help, but he said nothing.

“It's not her fault,” Jacinta declared in the uncomfortable silence.

Antonov looked at her curiously. “Are you claiming a captain of the Queen's Guard forced himself on his queen?”

“No, your highness,” Jacinta replied. “I'm suggesting Alenor is very young and easily led. She was a ripe target for subversion by the people who oppose you.”

“What are you talking about?” Kirsh scoffed.

“I'm talking about Alexin Seranov, your highness. The cousin of Reithan Seranov. Alexin is a heretic, just as his cousin is. The seduction of Alenor D'Orlon was a deliberate and calculated attempt to turn her from the Goddess.”

“No!” Alenor cried in despair. “That's not true!”

“Be quiet!” Antonov ordered. “Your very words condemn you, Alenor.”

“I don't care! It wasn't like that!”

“How do you know Alexin is a heretic, my lady?” Antonov asked Jacinta.

Jacinta glanced at Alenor apologetically and then hung her head in shame. “Because I helped them, your highness. I was the one who arranged for them to be alone.”

“Then you are as culpable as Alenor is,” he told her angrily.

“I admit that, your highness,” Jacinta replied meekly. “But when I confessed my part in the affair to the Lord of the Suns, he said the Goddess would forgive me if I openly admitted my guilt.”

“The Goddess may forgive you, but I'll be damned if I will,” Kirsh growled. Then he turned to Alenor. “No wonder you were so keen to keep your cousin close to you. Who else was involved in this sordid little cover-up?”

Alenor barely heard Kirsh. She stared at Jacinta in despair and then turned to look at Dirk.
What is she doing?

“Leave us!” Antonov ordered Jacinta. “I'll decide what to do with you later.”

Jacinta curtsied and fled the room, refusing to look at Alenor.

How could you
? Alenor cried silently after her.
How could you say such things about Alexin? How could you betray me like that?

“So Jacinta D'Orlon is a Baenlander sympathizer,” Antonov remarked when she was gone.

“I don't think so, sire,” Dirk said, sounding rather amused by the idea. “A bit impetuous maybe, but I doubt she has any deep sympathies for their cause.”

“If I believe her confession, she arranged for one of them to seduce Alenor,” Antonov pointed out.

“That's probably because she's an incurable romantic, your highness. You must know of her reputation. Jacinta would have gotten involved just for the thrill of covering up the queen's affair.”

“Even if you overlook the charge of adultery, she actively aided a heretic in his attempt to subvert the Queen of Dhevyn,” Kirsh reminded him. “That's high treason.”

“I doubt that occurred to Lady Jacinta at the time.”

Why are you defending her?
Alenor cried silently.
Why are you letting her turn on me?

“You never told me Jacinta D'Orlon knew of the affair,” Antonov said to Dirk. “For that matter, you never said you knew about it, either.”

“I'd be a poor Lord of the Suns if I repeated things told to me in confidence as the Goddess's representative, your highness.”

“He's known about it since Alenor lost the baby,” Kirsh told his father with an angry glance in Dirk's direction.

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“And you said nothing?”

“My first loyalty is to the Goddess, your highness. Not to Senet. And not to Dhevyn.”

“If you're so damned loyal to the Goddess, why didn't
you do something to put an end to the affair?” Kirsh demanded.

“I prayed to her, Kirsh,” Dirk replied calmly. “And then you discovered them together, and my prayers were answered.”

Alenor wanted to cry. How could Dirk stand there and lie so sincerely about praying to a Goddess she knew he didn't believe in? How could he be so cruel, so ruthless? Had he fallen so far under the spell of his new position he could turn on her without a second thought?

Then Alenor looked at Antonov and thought she understood why Dirk had said such a thing. Antonov was nodding unconsciously in agreement. He often prayed to the Goddess and considered his prayers answered when things worked out the way he wanted. He could believe no less of the Lord of the Suns. Whatever his reasons for not helping her, Dirk knew exactly what to say to keep Antonov on his side.

“Where is Seranov now?” Antonov asked Kirsh.

“I left him at the garrison in town.”

“Then after the eclipse, we'll hang him,” Antonov announced.

“I'd rather you didn't,” Dirk said.

“Did you have something else in mind?” “He's a heretic, your highness. Alexin's crimes against the Goddess are far more heinous than simply seducing the Queen of Dhevyn.”