Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (47 page)

I sent him on ahead of me and then crossed over shortly thereafter. Nia as usual fell all over herself, but I had to politely dismiss her in my eagerness to find Rurik. He was sitting with Shaya in the parlor adjacent to her room, deep in conversation. Both sprang up when they saw me.

“Your majesty,” intoned Shaya politely.

“Where is she?” I exclaimed. “The girl. I want to talk to her and get this settled.”

Rurik grimaced. “Ah. About that.”

“What's wrong? Volusian said you found her.”

“Well, we did, in a manner of speaking. It was the girl from Westoria—the one whose parents spoke to you. She surfaced last night in the village, hysterical and going on and on about how she escaped and how horrible it all was.”

“There really was a monster?” I said, surprised. “Or did she escape from the bandits?” I still hadn't ruled out their involvement.

He shook his head. “Nobody knows. She wasn't making any sense, and mostly, her parents wanted to calm her down. In the meantime, they sent word to us because they knew you'd want to talk to her, and…well, that's when the problem started.”

“Like the rest of this isn't already a problem?”

“When the girl heard you were coming, she became even more hysterical.”

“More hysterical over me than a monster or whatever?”

Rurik shrugged. “As we've learned, your reputation is a bit…alarming to some.”

“Good God. Didn't she hear I got my ass kicked by fire demons?” I sighed. “What happened?”

“She ran away. For real this time.”

I groaned and sank back into a chair.

“We sent out a search party as soon as we heard,” he added somewhat hopefully.

“Well, that's something, I guess. It's one girl…she can't be that hard to find, right?”

Rurik and Shaya exchanged doubtful looks. I groaned again. With the way the land was around here, it was likely anyone who wanted to disappear could. I'd had parties out looking for Jasmine for the last three months and found no clue to her whereabouts.

“We need to start putting faces on milk cartons,” I muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” asked Shaya.

“Never mind. Anything else I should know about? Any word from Leith?” I figured I'd go do my meditation and connection with the land and then head back to Tucson.

“Nothing yet,” said Shaya. “However…we did hear from Dorian.”

Right. Another of my problems. She seemed a little nervous about going on.

“He sent a message wondering why you hadn't contacted him yet about trade. And…”

I rolled my eyes. “Go on. I expect the worst.”

She looked embarrassed. “He said if you can't be troubled to come in a timely manner, then he's going to rescind his offer.”

“That might not be horrible,” I pointed out. “I mean, you've told other people, right? We've got other kingdoms wanting to buy the copper, don't we?”

Her look of discomfort grew. “Well, not so many.”

“How many is not so many?”

“Aside from the Rowan Land? None.”

“Son of a bitch.” Honestly? I wouldn't have put it past Dorian to influence others
not
to trade with me just so he could play these games. I steeled myself and met Shaya's pleading gaze. “I don't suppose he specified what a ‘timely manner' is?”

“He did, actually,” said Shaya. Rurik was smiling, which I took as a bad sign. “Today.”

I set out to Dorian with a sense of foreboding, made worse by the fact that I wore a skirt with a slit all the way up to my hip. Both Shaya and Nia had wanted me to go see him in a dress, arguing it befitted my station
and
would endear me to Dorian. I'd argued that I wouldn't be able to ride in a dress, and this slit thing had been their solution. And like always, I had a handful of guards in tow. Their constant presence still continued to make me feel like a child. In this case, a kind of slutty child.

In keeping with the Otherworld's bizarre geography, we passed through another village. My visit was brief, just long enough to see how they were doing. Their situation wasn't too different from Westoria's, though they had a woman who was pretty adept at finding water sources. Her technique, the way she wove magic, was more skilled than mine, though she didn't possess my strength. After observing her, I mimicked what she did and managed to find a spot ripe for well-digging. The dress kept me from getting out there and shoveling along with them, but it didn't matter. I left regarded as a savior yet again.

Reaching Dorian's took less time than it had taken to get to Maiwenn's. Unlike that journey, much of our trip today passed primarily through my own land, with no respite in one of the more temperate kingdoms. The heat beat down on us, and I sweated profusely into the violet silk of my dress. I would have given anything for a breeze, anything to stir that stagnant air. My own Tucson was often windy; I didn't get why the Otherworldly version wasn't.

My father had been able to control all things connected with storms: water, air, charged particles, temperature, et cetera. So far, I only had a hold of water, but every once in a while I could
feel
the air with the same senses that could touch and control water. Reaching out now, I had that same experience: I could sense the air. It hummed to me. It called. But when I called back, nothing happened. Over and over I tried, attempting the same technique I used with water, urging it to bend and stir and cool me off. Nothing. I finally gave up when Dorian's castle came into sight. It was stone like mine and somehow managed to be both imposing and graceful.

Where once I had been greeted with hostility and suspicion, I was now welcomed with respect and a fair amount of groveling. And, yeah, some wariness too. My guards were led away, and Dorian's servants fell all over me, offering me any refreshment I wanted. I declined. I simply wanted to get these negotiations done with.

A servant led me to an opulently decorated chamber and announced me, titles and all. Dorian sat there, casual in a long-sleeved, cream-colored shirt, leaning over a chess board. An old man with a beard that went all the way to the floor sat opposite him. Dorian's green-gold eyes lifted at my name, and he broke out into a dazzling smile. Honestly. The man was too good-looking sometimes, and he knew it. A moment later, Dorian turned a disapproving glance toward his chess partner.

“By the gods, Kasper. Have you no manners at all? The Thorn Queen is here. Show some respect before I have you flogged.”

I started to protest as the old man rose. The hunched-over posture he'd held in the chair appeared to be permanent, and it took him forever to actually get up. He managed something that passed for a bow—really, it was hard to tell the difference between that and his normal stance—and gave me a grave “Your majesty.”

And as the old man's back was to the board, Dorian leaned over and moved some of the pieces around.

I opened my mouth, more in shock than to make any sort of protest. Dorian raised one finger to his lips in a shushing motion. I swallowed my comments and smiled at Kasper. “Thank you. Please sit down again.”

“And you, my dear,” said Dorian. “Come join us.”

The servant who'd led me in hastily pulled a velvet-cushioned chair over to the chess table. I thanked him and sat down, crossing my legs out of habit. When I saw half the skirt spill over and reveal nearly the whole length of my leg, I hastily uncrossed them. Dorian saw the leg, of course. He always saw everything.

Kasper's eyes, underneath his bushy gray brows, were fixed on the board. He made a play, capturing one of Dorian's pieces. Dorian frowned briefly, then put his smile back on as he turned to me.

“You are radiant as always,” he said. “That dress is particularly lovely. Kasper, look at her. Do you see the way that shade matches her eyes?”

Kasper looked like he wanted to study the board, but he turned to me obediently and gave a quick bob of the head. “Yes, your majesty. Most becoming.” Dorian quickly swapped a few more pieces and then put on a look of deep pondering when Kasper turned back around.

With a sigh, Dorian moved his bishop. “Not my greatest play, but it'll have to do.” He seized one of Kasper's pieces.

The move clearly took Kasper by surprise, not all that astonishing considering the pieces weren't where they'd been the last time he looked. He studied the board for almost a minute and then moved a knight, though it didn't yield a capture.

“Eugenie, you look as though you've been stranded in a desert,” mused Dorian. “But then, I suppose that's the case, isn't it? Such a shame, all those towns suffering and starving, towns like Songwood.”

The old man looked up sharply, eyes wide as he stared at me. “Songwood?”

“Songwood?” I asked in equal confusion. Dorian covertly moved more pieces.

“I was born in Songwood,” said Kasper. “People are starving there?”

“Oh, wait,” said Dorian. “Songwood's in the Willow Land, isn't it? Sorry for the scare. I was thinking it had been part of Aeson's kingdom. I'm sure Songwood's perfectly fine.” He studied the board for a moment and then deftly moved his queen. “Checkmate.”

Kasper gaped. “That's not…” His eyes roved over the board, no doubt looking for any possible way to counter Dorian's move.

“You can't fight against the queen,” said Dorian glibly. “Once she's decided to take the king, you might as well give in and enjoy it.” I rolled my eyes. Kasper sighed.

“Excellent game, your majesty.”

Dorian gave him a comforting pat as the old man stood up. “Don't take it so hard. You played pretty decently yourself. Sloppy here and there, but who knows? There's always next time.”

Kasper gave another wizened bow and then left us alone. I gave Dorian a censuring look.

“You're a bad man. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Hardly,” he said. “That man's the grand chess champion of seven kingdoms. A little humbling will do him good. And speaking of humbling, shall we get on to our business?”

He stood up and extended a hand to me. I didn't take it and simply followed as he walked over to the far side of the room. He sank down onto an ivory satin couch while I chose a velvet loveseat the same color as my dress. I felt adrift in a sea of purple. Dorian produced a stack of parchment from a nearby table.

“There you are. Just sign, and we can get this out of the way.”

I flipped through the papers, astonished. I didn't understand most of it. It detailed amounts and shipments of assorted goods, listed interest rates, and laid out some sort of schedule. I gave Dorian an incredulous look.

“What happened to negotiating?”

He poured two glasses of white wine from a carafe that sat on the table to his other side. “Oh, come now. You don't want to actually do that.
I
don't want to do that. So why waste our time? I assure you, the terms are very, very generous. Probably more generous than you deserve, considering the way you toy with my affections. Your people will be getting a lot of goods on faith for copper that has yet to materialize.”

“Then why did you make me come here?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“No,” I grumbled, signing my name with a quill. A quill. Honestly. “You're a bad man.”

“I try. Wine?” He gestured to the glass he'd poured for me.

I shook my head. “Wouldn't want you to run out. So, I guess me sitting here is part of the price I pay for my kingdom's food. What do you want to do now?”

His eyes held mine over the top of his wineglass. “I could make up a list of things to do longer than that contract.”

Yeah. I'd set myself up for that one. “Okay, then. What would you like to talk about?”

“You,” he said. “And why you never come see me.”

“You know why. Because you used me and stuck me with that kingdom.”

“You sure do hold a grudge. Is that a human trait?”

“It's a Eugenie trait.”

He smiled. “Of course. You know, Rurik tried to rape you, yet now you welcome him with open arms.”

“That's not exactly how I'd put it.”

“You know what I mean. How can you forgive him and not me?”

I looked down at my lap and played with the dress's fabric. I didn't have a good answer for that. Rurik had really been a total asshole when we'd met, yet now I took him as a normal fixture around my household. Why did I hold such animosity for Dorian? Because things hadn't started as hostile between us, I realized. Sure, I hadn't trusted him initially, but he'd never done me any true harm.

I had grown to like him—care about him, even—which made what he'd done hurt that much more. Dorian was the one who'd guided me through claiming the Thorn Land after we'd killed Aeson in a pretty horrific battle. I'd simply followed Dorian's direction, having no clue what I was doing until it was too late. Once I realized what I'd been stuck with, I'd felt like every interaction with Dorian had been one big setup. It had seemed like his endgame the whole time had been to oust Aeson and give me that land so that Dorian could eventually control it. That was why I resented him.

Are you sure that's it?
a sneaky voice inside me wanted to know. No, there might be more. Even I could admit that to myself. The truth was I'd developed physical and emotional attachments to Dorian, and I didn't want them. I didn't want to be bound to someone like him, someone who was full-blooded gentry—and had the annoying tendency to make me lose control. Slamming up walls of animosity between us was a way to protect myself.

“What are you thinking?” Dorian asked, sparing me from his other question.

“I was wondering if I just blindly signed my name to sexual favors in that contract.”

“Damn,” he said. “I wish I'd considered that.” From the tone of his voice, I think he meant it. “Oh, well. Perhaps next time since I'm sure this will be the first of many dealings between our kingdoms.”

“I hope not.”

For a moment, he almost looked hurt. “Is it that painful coming here?”

I felt bad. “No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I mean…I hope I don't need any more help. I hope things will just work themselves out in the Thorn Land.”

His easy smile returned as he finished off his wine. He reached for my untouched glass. “Well, according to rumor, things are on the mend, thanks to the omnibenevolent Thorn Queen. Why, I heard the other day that you were out digging ditches and feeding orphans. It's a wonder you have the time for that, what with your hypocritical job of battling your own subjects in the human world.”

“My subjects don't cross into the human world,” I said loftily. Of course, the irony was that might not be true, not if the evidence surrounding those girls was any indication. “And I never did any of that other stuff. I just found water.”

He tsked, eyes sparkling with delight. “Yes, which is a hundred times more than most monarchs do. You're out with your people, maybe not working beside them exactly, but it's close enough. They think you're some kind of messiah. I guess that sets a good precedent for your son, hmm?”

I made a face. “Don't even go down that road. And anyway, I'm not trying to be a messiah. I'm just trying to help.”

“Good gods,” he said, downing the glass in one gulp. “The frightening thing is that you're actually serious. Were you helping them before you arrived here today?”

“Er, well, a little. We stopped in a village and helped find some water.”

“I can tell. When you use your magic, it wreaths you like some sort of afterglow. It's very…becoming.”

Something about the way he spoke and looked at me made me want to cross my arms and legs protectively—until I remembered crossing my legs wouldn't do me any favors. Fucking dress.

“I daresay your control of water is becoming very useful,” he added. “Too bad you didn't continue your lessons with it.”

“I don't need your help anymore. I've practiced on my own—I've gotten a lot stronger.”

“Hmm. I see. And what about the rest of your inherited powers? Have you been practicing with, say, air?”

For half a second, I thought he'd been spying on me. No, that wasn't his style. He'd guessed I would attempt air magic because…well, he knew me. And because he was Dorian and canny about such things.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” I said loftily. There. Take that.