Nightshade (32 page)

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t know?” Melora asked, then laughed with obvious delight. “Your father and Malcolm, they paid her family a tidy sum of gold to leave Lokey. No doubt to avoid the disgrace and shame of your affair going public. I should imagine, actually, quite a
lot
of gold was paid.”

Darry’s pulse quickened with a violent surge of blood.

“She didn’t want to leave at first, of course. After all, she
was
a backwards girl. Sharing her spirit with royalty was most likely something of a thrill. Someone of that ilk cannot find much better, I imagine. Marteen said that she wept terribly.” Melora tipped her head to the side a touch. “They had to threaten her father’s station in the end in order to make the poor girl see reason. It happened very quickly after that, as I’m sure you remember. As I said, I was surprised that you surrendered so easily to your father’s justice. No matter what I think of you, you’ve always had a spine, which is more than I can say for most.”

Darry swallowed and it seemed as if a dagger was lodged in her throat.

“I would’ve thought you’d chase after her, or some such romantic nonsense,” Melora went on. “But for once you did the respectable thing.”

“Who told you this?”

Melora recoiled at the tone. “What does it matter, Darrius?”

“Who told you this?” Darry demanded again.

“You cannot think that your father and Malcolm were just going to let you run
wild
, did you? Darrius, my sweet, you were sleeping with another
woman
. You were endangering your family’s reputation and your brother’s future. Best that you have a care for that sometime soon, for when Malcolm takes the throne no doubt things will change for you.”

“You said…you said, Marteen? Malcolm’s councilor?”

“You ran off to the sea.” Melora sighed. “I suppose that was a bit romantic in and of itself. How did you find a ship full men? Did you try your luck, Princess?”

Darry reached back through the years for some sort of memory that would secure the crumbling ground beneath her.

“You did, didn’t you,” Melora said in subtle taunt. “Did the rocking of the ship ease the pain of that first time? Was his cock gentle? Were you quiet while the others slept and he pushed inside of you?”

“
Melora
.” Darry was still trying to get her bearings.
That’s not what happened. It isn’t. Oh god, Aidan, tell me they didn’t.

Melora laughed quietly, a slight pout touching her features. “Poor Darry.” Her voice was mocking. “I suppose you should’ve just found a man who was willing to be your wife. Your handsome Arkady Winnows seems an accommodating fellow, at least on the dance floor. Perhaps something there can be nurtured, if you’re careful. Is a bastard more pliant? Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if you wore a phallus, do you think?”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Really?” Melora countered. “How would I know, then, that your gentle little Aidan gave your father back the necklace? It was your grandmother Lewellyn’s, wasn’t it? A nice gold linked chain with a sapphire the size of a bloody walnut?”

A small sound escaped Darry’s throat. “Your father told her it wasn’t necessary, of course, but the silly girl insisted. She said something about honor and saving some small measure of it, or some such foolish nonsense.”

“You
lie
.” Darry’s voice broke.

“No,” Melora returned almost kindly, and then she laughed, the quiet sound very close to mocking. “You’re making me feel almost guilty, Darrius. This is all too perfect.”

“You’re a liar.”

“No,” Melora repeated. “But if you think so then you should ask your mother, Princess. No doubt the Queen will have a prettier story for you, to soothe your heart and send you off to sleep. She’s had plenty of time to think of one.”

Darry stood unmoving as Melora pushed from the railing and walked toward her. She reached out and Darry flinched. Melora’s perfume filled Darry’s senses and she closed her eyes at the brush of Melora’s soft skin against her cheek.

“You’ll be lucky if your favorite courtesan doesn’t meet the same fate,” Melora whispered beside her ear. Darry jerked in reaction to her words. “Marin Corvinus, isn’t that her name? Did you sneak back that night, Darry, and take what she offered at Madam Salina’s? I believe that Malcolm is preparing a very swift horse for her even as we speak. Off into the night as little Aidan went.”

Melora’s lips brushed Darry’s ear with the merest hint of a kiss. “It’s too bad,” she said, her breasts pressing close as her left hand slid beneath Darry’s jacket. Her touch was suggestive at the small of Darry’s back. “I imagine your whore was a much livelier fuck than your little Aidan. A woman like you? Timid was never your style, Darry.”

Melora kissed Darry’s cheek tenderly, her lips lingering before she stepped back. “Perhaps I’ll have Garwyn bring the carriage around,” she said softly. “Thank you for a full afternoon, Princess. Your mother’s parties are always such fun.”

She walked back along the balcony and Darry watched her go, holding on to her composure with every measure of strength she possessed. Only after Melora lifted her skirt above her shoes and swept down the wide staircase did she let go.

Darry let out a choked cry of anguish and grabbed for the wall beside her. She gripped the bound red curtain instead and bent at the waist in a rush of physical pain. The drape pulled against its golden rings and popped them one at a time in response to the sudden force. The curtain fell in a cascade of fabric from high overhead and poured downward.

She stood slowly, her head filling with the sound of the heavy material as it pooled on the floor beside her. She stared down the length of the empty balcony, lost within the brutal rush of her
Cha-diah
blood and more than happy to let it come. Her body trembled as her entire world turned on a heartbeat.

*

Marteen Salish studied his sister upon one of the divans by the hearth, the lamp dusting her features in a pale glow. She still wore the dress she had that afternoon, though her shoes were off and he could see her bare feet, her right leg hooked casually over her left knee. Her eyes were closed and she rested the fingers of her right hand against her temple, looking for all the world as if she had dozed off.

“Is it done?”

Melora opened her eyes. “She hadn’t a clue, Marteen, not a bloody clue. I have to admire the timid Aidan McKenna for a job well done. She must’ve been particularly brutal to have thrown Darry so far off the scent.”

Marteen took off his jacket as he went to her. He tossed it on the couch opposite the one his sister occupied, then sat on the last cushion. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, Mel.”

“That’s really beside the point.” she answered. “I’ve just committed political suicide.”

“Do you think she’ll come after you?”

“Why should she? I’m not the one who betrayed her.”

“Betrayed?”

“It will come out,” she responded. “And I’ll be banned from court. Most likely by Cecelia herself, for revealing her nasty little secret.”

“Her circle is unimportant.”

“Yes. It is Malcolm’s that matters.”

“Yes, it is. His is the court of the future. And I promise you shall have an elevated place in the accounting of it.”

“He’s not the King yet. Keep that in mind.”

“Soon,” Marteen replied. “Even sooner than some have predicted, I’ll wager.”

“Is he really planning to marry her?” Melora asked. “A woman of foreign blood? I can’t see it. Owen will never allow it. He may be haggling now in order to buy time, trying to find out what Bharjah is thinking. But a child of Bharjah’s blood upon the Blackwood Throne?”

“She’s irrelevant, at least for now. It’s Joaquin who is important.”

“And in the meantime I’ll sit in this house and wait, yes? Made a pariah by the truth.” She laughed. “There’s a first for me.”

“No, Mel. Do you think I would let you be thrown to the wolves of the Queen without a care for your future?”

“I don’t know, Marteen. I just stood before a woman I used to hold very dear and ripped her heart out. Though I hold no feelings for her now but contempt and pity, I’m not foolish enough to think I won’t pay for that in some way. The deep repercussions for this may not be what Malcolm expects.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. Darry has always been an unknown. It’s why Malcolm hates her so, even more than her backwards bent. Malcolm has
never
known what she’ll do, and he has always underestimated her power.”

“Sweetling, she has no power.”

“She has a great deal of power, and for all that you and Malcolm scheme and plot, it amazes me that you can’t see it.”

“What sort of power does she have?”

“The power of a favored child.”

Marteen mulled over her words with a frown. “Perhaps, but that mea—”

“That means more than you think it does. And have you considered that she might go after Malcolm? Has
he
considered that?”

“Of course we have. We’re counting on it.”

Melora laughed, turning her attention to the empty hearth. “I’ve seen her fight and so have you. For all that it crushes etiquette and propriety under its boot heel, she’s damned good at it, and most certainly better than
he
is.”

“She would never challenge him in such a manner.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Owen would never allow it.”

“Owen has betrayed her!” Melora snapped. “Even though we hate each other now, I knew her well once upon a day. She has always been ruled by her heart. He can no more control her now than he could a dog that’s turned. If her dagger winds up at Malcolm’s feet, short of locking her in chains and stripping her of her rank and title, he can do nothing about it. And even then Malcolm must answer her challenge or be branded a coward, accused of using his station to avoid a reckoning for his actions.”

Marteen smiled at her.

“What?” Melora demanded.

“And should Owen be forced to do such a thing, how do you think he will look then upon the throne? Such a great burden as that, being the architect of his own child’s destruction. Forced to cast her out in order to protect the succession to his throne. Cast out like an orphan, poor little Darry. And Cecelia, our sad and noble Queen. Divided between her husband and her sweet little backwards girl? Their bed will be cold for months, maybe even years. It’s happened before.” He clicked his tongue. “So heavy is the burden of the crown.”

Melora stared in disbelief. “You can’t possibly be serious, though even if you
are
, Malcolm would still have to answer her challenge.”

“He may choose a champion in his stead. And it is the King’s right to step in if he feels so inclined, do not forget. What would you do, Mel, if your children went to war? Darrius would never raise her sword to her King, and Owen will know that, despite any bad blood. It is his right within the strictures of the Blooded Duel to usurp Malcolm’s place on the field of honor. Standing in the yards, a sword in her hand as she faces her own father?” he said. “No matter what he’s done to her she would forfeit and walk away. Even you cannot predict an outcome other than that. And then it’s off into the night with you, little backwards cunt. One problem solved.”

“So you hope.”

“It’s merely one scenario among many that play to our advantage.”

“And so why is
she
here, Bharjah’s little songbird?”

“She has a part to play, to be sure. But for now she buys us time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to sway Joaquin.”

*

Darry sat in the far corner of her old chambers with her knees drawn up. Her hands would occasionally tremble and she would pull at the dark material of her trousers and hold tight.

The panther pulsed thick in her blood and every so often she would catch her breath and tip her head back at the brutal rush of its power. She would smile as well, now and then, as the hours passed, watching as if from a distance as her senses adapted and absorbed the primal force of it all. She could smell human flesh beyond the walls that she had once called her own, and the scent was pungent and dark.

She had not slept there since Aidan. They had made love in the bed more than a few times and discovered the pleasures that passion can bring. Discovered the secrets of love and the joys of yielding up one’s body to the touch of another. After Aidan had spurned her she could find no peace in the familiar confines of her childhood rooms.

Darry could smell the smoke from the hearths in the kitchens, no matter that it was half a world away. She could smell the meat cooking. She could smell the blood and her stomach reacted. Her shoulders pulled inward against the onslaught of hunger.

She wanted to prowl. She wanted to move and strike and bend low upon the hunt, searching out her prey amidst the cold stones and dead timber.

But you will come to me, won’t you?

She heard voices, distant and unconcerned in their conversation. She could smell the change in the world and knew the sun was rising.