Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy (27 page)

“They’re fine. Kyan and Toren are keeping them close to base. They won’t be coming out to play until the wedding.”

“After the wedding,” I amend. Eamon glances toward me, obviously not the least bit happy with my correction. “If you bust in before I’m married, then I lose my title to the throne if… when Aloysius dies. You can’t attack until after the ceremony.”

“But that doesn’t give us enough time to rescue you,” Eamon protests.

“I’ve tried telling her that. You know Illyria. Stubborn as an old mule,” Bastien growls, his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Eamon glances at him and then back at me. “If we don’t make it to you in time, he could—”

I hold up my hand. “I know the risks. It still has to be this way. You know that better than anyone, Eamon.”

He grits his teeth and looks to Bastien for help, but he merely shrugs. “When have you ever been able to talk
her out of anything?”

Eamon’s lip curls into a scowl. “Good point. Fine, we do it your way, but… I want you to be the one to tell Kyan.”

Dipping low into the closet, I uncover my bag, ripping into it to pull out my
cammo pants and black tank top. “Heaven,” I whisper as I run my hands over the material.

In less than a minute, I have tossed my see-through dress aside and don my familiar clothes. It feels wonderful to be concealed for the first time since I arrived. Standing before the mirror, I pull the clips from my hair, watching as black waves fall over my shoulders, loosely tousled and curled at the ends.

“You look stunning,” Bastien whispers from behind as he emerges from his room.

I knew he wouldn’t sleep, not while Eamon remained in my room. We talked for over an hour, lying side by side in my bed. It felt oddly comforting, almost like it used to be between us.

I glance down at my tank top and grin. “At least it leaves a bit to the imagination.”

Bastien nods. “I like this better.”

“Me too.” I sink down onto my bed and begin lacing up my boots.

“And Eamon?”

I wince, knowing this was bound to happen. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened. We just talked.”

He lowers his gaze, turning so I can only see his profile. “I wasn’t trying to pry…”

I laugh. “Of course you were. I’ll bet you stayed propped up right next to the door, trying to listen.”

“A tempting thought,” he says dryly, “but it’s not my place to monitor you. Your relationship with him is none of my business.”

The heaviness in his voice hurts. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?” He moves closer in the dark. “You did nothing wrong.”

I stand and face him, unsure of what do with my arms. They feel awkward at my sides yet oddly placed if I cross them. I settle for stuffing my hands in my pockets, grateful to have them once more. “Then why does it feel like I did? I hate that I keep hurting you, that no matter what I do or say it’s never enough. It’s not fair.”

Bastien closes the gap between us and gently lifts my chin up toward him. “I’m here because I want to be. Don’t worry about the rest. I can handle it.”

My hands clench into fists within my pockets. “You always do this for me. Having you and Eamon so close isn’t a good idea.”

To this Bastien nods. “I agree. Things get… complicated, but that’s not something I want you to worry about. I’m fine. You need to focus on finding a way to break Aloysius’s mind control.”

I remove one hand from my pocket and brush my hair back from my face. “Will things ever be easy again?”

His gaze shifts beyond me, unseeing. “Someday it will.”

“But not today,” I mutter.

“No.” He looks back at me. I can see the hidden depths of his pain. “Not today.”

Staring at him now, I can’t imagine my life without him. He has always known my thoughts and emotions, been the backbone I needed when I was too weak. He roots me in reality, but that ability reminds me that I’m not free to love him.

“You’d best pretend to be sleeping when Alesta arrives. Otherwise, she’ll think you were in on my escape plan. You know she’ll be furious about messing with her wedding day schedule.” I move toward the window, turning back with one leg up on the sill. “Oh, and try not to look too gorgeous when you first wake. It’s really not fair to her.”

Bastien cracks a smile. “It’ll be tough, but I’ll see what I can manage.”

I grin and leap from the window and out into the night.

As I hurry along the path leading to the stables, glancing back over my shoulder from time to time, I can’t
help but think of one thought: today I’m getting married. I had hoped that when this day came, it would be filled with joyful nerves and butterflies of excitement, not dread and fear.

Dawn isn’t far off as I hurry down the steps and toward the stables. I can hear the whinnies of the Inara and grin. Bastien’s plan was brilliant. Of course the guards would allow me to breach the palace walls to go for a ride, even one so close to my wedding. My beach is private, secluded. No harm would come to me there.

We decided it best to leave Bastien behind or risk raising unnecessary warning flags should we be seen together. To this point we have given Aloysius no reason to doubt either of us and now is not the time to give him the chance.

Edana waits for me in her stall, her head bucking as I reach out to smooth my hand over her nose. She nuzzles against me and I laugh, stepping aside to grab a fruit for her. “You don’t want to eat too much or you’ll spoil your breakfast.”

It takes me a few moments to figure out how to attach the saddle. Watching one of the stable boys do it is hardly a good enough lesson to learn by. As the first droplets of color dot the sky, I steer Edana out of the stable and break into a run.

My hair whips behind me and I laugh as I leave the palace behind, feeling free for the first time in days. Edana eats away the distance in only a few scant minutes. Nervous tension roils in my belly at the thought of seeing my friends again.

Aminah is sure to crush me in a hug if she comes. Zahra might even be happy to see me. Although, if she tries to go for a hug, I’ll be shocked. And Kyan… I need him more than I realized. He’ll know what to do. He always does.

The gates loom before and I lean low over Edana’s back, waiting for the gates to open. As we draw near, I realize that two guards stand before them, hands outstretched. I pull back on the reins, my teeth rattling as Edana digs in her feet.

“What is the meaning of this?” I growl as we slide to a halt only a few feet back from the towering metal gate. “I order you to stand aside.”

The guards look at each other before answering. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, my lady.”

“By whose authority?”

“Mine,” a raspy voice calls from my right side.

Edana paws at the dirt as I shift uneasily in my saddle. Drakon emerges, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is battered and bruised, his upper lip split and laced with stitching. Apparently Malek had a good time teach Drakon his lesson.

His gaze sweeps over my attire and I can feel his smug grin hit like a punch to my ribs. “I should have known you would try to escape to your rebel friends.” He steps forward and grabs my reins, yanking them from my hand.

The guards rush forward and I scream as their hands clap upon me, unseating me. Drakon smiles as I buck in their arms. I can feel his touch as he prods at my mind and snarl as I mentally shove him back. “Don’t touch me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes glint black in the rising dawn. “However, I think the king will be
very
interested to hear where it is you were heading, don’t you?”

Twenty-Two

I strain against Drakon’s grasp, clawing my nails against his arms as he drags me across the slick palace floor.
 I grunt, digging in the soles of my boots, giving myself only a small amount of traction to resist.  “Let go of me.”

“And miss the chance to see Aloysius turn his rage on you?
 Not a chance.  I’ve been waiting far too long for this moment.”

I lash out at him, raking my nails across his face.
 He howls as thin red gashes appear and rears his hand back to strike.  

“Let her go,” a deep voice growls behind me.
 

“Bastien!”
 I strain to see over my shoulder, but Drakon yanks me around, crossing his arm over my chest, pinning me tightly against him.

“I tried to warn Aloysius about you two.” Drakon sneers.
 I feel something sharp jabbing into my side and realize he has pulled a knife on me, positioning it between my ribs.  “The fool’s arrogance and lust has blinded him to the truth.”

Bastien’s gaze narrows dangerously.
 “Illyria?”

“She can’t do anything,” Drakon laughs.
 I gasp as the knife pierces through my shirt.  A tiny droplet of blood seeps down my side.  “If she does, Aloysius will know that she isn’t under his control and she doesn’t want that, now does she!”

His hand tightens over my chest as he reads Bastien’s reaction.
 “Oh, yes.  I know all about you two.  Alesta may be a cunning girl but I’ve been playing this game far longer than she has.”

“What have you done with her?”
 I jerk in his grasp, ignoring the stab of pain as the knife digs in deeper.  

“Nothing...yet.”
 He shifts to look at the hall behind him, inching us backwards.  Despite the vast size of this building I am familiar with this part of the palace.  He is taking us to the throne room.

My gaze flickers to my right as I try to send a silent message to Bastien.
 He doesn’t nod, doesn’t show any reaction.  I can’t tell if he understands.

“So what now?” Bastien asks, following after us, his body positioned to attack when given the slightest chance.

“Aloysius will decide what to do with her.”  His breath smells off.  There is a sickening, overwhelming aroma to it, as if he has been drinking something foul.

I can see the double doors up ahead and begin to panic.
 The guard manning the door looks up.  I can see his surprise and confusion.  “Sir?”

“Get the King!”
 Drakon grunts as I slam my heel into his shin, running it down to his foot.  “Get him now!”

“Bastien,” I call, but he is already on the move.
 We both know what will happen the instant Aloysius is within sight of me.  We have to take Drakon down now.

In a blur of black, Bastien leaps.
 I slam my head back into Drakon’s face, shattering his nose.  His arm releases me and I fall to the floor just as Bastion lands beside me, his punch driving Drakon into the ground.

A loud crack echoes around the hall.
 I turn and see Drakon’s eyes roll back.  Blood begins to pool around his head as it rolls to the side.  Bastien snatches the front of Drakon’s uniform and draws his arm back to strike again.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a voice booms.

I feel the cold sensation slip over my mind as I slump to the floor.  I gasp as I clutch my side, feeling the reverberations of approaching footsteps.  When I look up, I see Aloysius’ livid face hovering over Bastien.  “You’ve killed him!”

“Aloysius,” I call, reaching out to him.
 He pales as he rushes to my side, taking my hand in his.  He turns it over and stares at the blood on my palm.

“Darling, you’re hurt.” A growl rumbles in his chest as he pulls me into his arms and turns on Bastien.
 “Did you do this?”

“No,” I whisper as I rest my head over his pounding heart.
 “Bastien saved me.”

The afternoon has grown unseasonably cool.  I wrap my arms about myself as I stare out over the palace grounds.  The main gates opened nearly an hour ago.  Streams of people arrive from the city below, each dressed in their best clothes.  I can see children running and playing, their laughter like music on the air.

I have lost count of their numbers as they pass out of sight and through the main doors of the palace.
 I sink down onto my bed, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall.  
I’m trying to be strong.  
I swipe at my eyes before I ruin my makeup.

Alesta has done a wonderful job making me beautiful.
 As I look at myself in the mirror I almost smile.  She made me look perfectly fierce.

A knock sounds at my door.
 “I want to be alone.”  There is a pause and then another knock.  “Alesta, please.”

“I am not Alesta.”

I turn to look at the door, struggling to place the gentle voice.  It sounds familiar somehow and yet I know that I have not heard it while staying in the palace.  Lifting my skirts, I turn to face the door.  “Come in.”

When the woman enters I am struck by her beauty.
 Her skin is fair and flawless.  Her golden hair is coiled about her face, trailing down her back.  Slender shoulders dip into the curve of a beautiful scarlet dress that cinches at the waist and flares back out at the hip.  Her delicate hands clasp before her.  Violet eyes search my face after she closes the door behind her.

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for visitors,” I say, rising slowly from the bed.
 My skirts are ridiculously large and heavy.  The bust of my dress is tight, crushing my ribs together.  I feel as if I will come popping out of it at any moment.  My purple dress sparkles like diamonds woven into each strand.  The rich color deepens as your eye trails from my chest to the floor.

The woman takes a step forward.
 “I have Alesta to thank for allowing me to see you.  I know you must be very busy so I won’t stay long.”

I glance around my empty room and laugh.
 “Not really.  I’m just waiting for the music to start.”

Her responding laughter sounds like wind chimes, soothing and pleasant.
 “Your friend came to see my yesterday.  They thought you might like to see me before…” she trails off as she lowers her gaze.  

I realize with a start that she is fumbling nervously with the beading along her skirts.
 “Alesta?”

“No,” she smiles and looks up at me.
 I watch as she takes a deep breath and presses her shoulders back.  “Kyan thought it only right that you have your...your mother with you on your wedding day.”

My mouth gapes open as I take a step back.
 I swiftly appraise her again, searching for any sign of myself in her.  Her nose is similar to mine and her lips are full, boasting a tiny dip in the middle that is identical to my own.  I press my hand to my stomach as I realize our eyes are the exact same shade of violet.

“Mother?” I whisper, needing to hear the word spoken aloud.
 “How did Kyan find you?”

“Sariana actually found me.
 She has a way of knowing exactly what needs to be done.”  Her smile is pure radiance as I stare at her, too numb to know exactly what I’m feeling.  She looks expectantly at me and I realize how awkward this must be for her too.  

“I, uh…” I smooth my hair, needing something to do with my free hand, “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Laeydria.  Most people just call me Dria.”

“Dria.”
 I roll her name over my tongue several times before I smile.  “I think I prefer Laeydria.”

She grins and I watch as her skirts sway from side to side, brushing along her calves.
 “So do I.”

“And my father?
 Is he alive?”

“Oh, yes.”
 She shuffles forward a few steps.  I can tell she is wary of upsetting me, no doubt thinking that I would prefer my space for now.  “Locan is here and waiting to meet you.  Alesta was only able to sneak me in.  You’ll be able to meet him after…”  My smiles fades as she trails off.  “I’m sorry.  I know this isn’t easy for you.”

I snort and wrap my hands about my waist.
 “There is little that I know about you and I have so many questions.  Who am I?  Why am I different?  Do I have any brothers and sisters?”

Laeydria laughs, holding up her hand.
 “That’s a lot of questions and I wish I had more time to answer them for you, but I can at least answer the first one.”

I hold my breath as she steps forward and reaches
for my hand.  Her hands are soft as I allow her to pull my hand into her own.  I don’t know what I was expecting when she touched me.  A spark?  A sense of familiarity?  

I feel nothing.

She squeezes my hand as she smiles down at me.  I realize even with my heels on she is still a couple of inches taller than me.  “You are exactly who you are meant to be.  I don’t know why you are special, only that you are.  Your father and I are commoners.  I’m a Healer and he is a Kinein. He can move matter with his mind.”

“I can too,” I whisper.
 “Both actually.”

Her smile grows fond.
 “I hear you have far more talents than that.”

I nod, biting my lip.
 
Is this how all of us will feel when we meet our real parents?  Misplaced and yet mingled with an odd sense of longing?  I can only hope all of us have parents as Laeydria seems to be.

“I wish that we could have-” her head jerks around as the door opens and Alesta enters.
 She is a vision in a pale pink dress that shimmers with each step.  Her hair flows down her back in silken waves.  Her cheeks are nearly the same color as her lovely dress.  

“I’m afraid this will have to wait,” she says, looking at me with sympathy.
 “It’s time.”

I have never been to a wedding before.  Where I come from a simple vow is spoken before friends and family to bind you together.  My parents spoke their vows when I was six.  I don’t know why they waited so long.  Everyone in our group knew they were meant for each other, both likeminded and of strong personality.  They chose me as their daughter after the invasion, but sometimes I like to think that I helped bind them together.

I can hear the din of murmurs on the other side of the doors leading into the throne room.
 A thousand or more people wait to catch their first glimpse of me.  I feel as if I can’t breathe as I pace back and forth.

Alesta watches silently beside me.
 From time to time she sends glares at the guards who stand outside the doors and they avert their gaze again.

I’m lost to my own world as I pace.
 Time seems to slow as my hands begin to tremble.  
I don’t know if I can do this.

The sound of approaching footsteps grasps my attention and I look up to see Bastien striding toward me.
 My breath catches at the sight of him in a fine coat of purple and silver.  His pants are black and trimmed with silver, trailing down the outsides of both pant legs.

“Wow,” Alesta whispers behind me, blushing as I turn to look at her.
 “Sorry, but wow.”

I nod in silent agreement.
 “Can you give us a moment?”

She hesitates, glancing back at the closed doors.
 “Be quick.  Use the side room.”

I grab Bastien by the arm and drag him through the open door.
 The curtains are drawn across the windows, dimming the sunlight that fights to stream in.  I push on the door, my heels slipping on the slick floor.  

“What are you thinking?”
 He hisses over my shoulder as he reaches to help me push the heavy door closed.  “This is hardly the proper behavior of a woman madly in love with her soon-to-be-husband.”

“I don’t care.”
 I turn under his arm and rise to crush my lips against his, my hands tugging urgently on his coat.  His eyes widen in surprise and for a moment seems unsure of what to do.  “Kiss me, you idiot.”

With a groan, he gives in, pressing the length of his body against mine.
 The doorknob jabs into my spine.  My hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time.  The feel of the velvety coat under my fingers is wrong but as his lips trail down my neck, pausing at the hollow to place a fiery kiss, I can’t bring myself to care.  I arch up into him as he grips my waist, needing to be closer.

My breath comes out in pants as I weave my hands through his short hair, realizing he has spiked it with some sort of gel that crunches when touched.
 He groans as I press up into him.  His lips dance dangerously close to the plunging neckline of my dress.

I feel flushed, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
 “Don’t stop,” I whisper, urging him on.  He smiles against my sensitive skin as he places soft kisses just along the top of my chest.  My leg curls around the back of his, forcing him to lean into me.

A loud knock at the door startles me.
 I cry out as Bastien lurches back and I lose my balance.  “Illyria, the music is starting,” Alesta calls through the door.