Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (53 page)

“I am a being of considerable power. I cannot die. If you insist on enslaving me, you should use my abilities to bring nations to their knees.” Volusian's red eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Instead, my mistress dispatches me to supervise children and deliver love notes.”

“It's not a love note! Just ask him, okay?”

Volusian blinked once and then vanished.

While he couldn't teleport, exactly, he could travel much faster than human or gentry. After Jasmine's capture and Moria implicating Art, I wanted nothing more than to sit down with Kiyo. I needed to talk this out. I wasn't used to this sort of turmoil and indecision in my life. I longed for the days when my job had simply been to go out, find the monster, and get rid of it. It had been a lot easier than this sort of deliberation.

Kiyo, to my knowledge, was with Maiwenn, and I'd dispatched Volusian to see if Kiyo would come to me later. It was the closest I could get to making a phone call in the Otherworld—but still far from it, seeing that it took Volusian about twenty minutes to get back to me.

“You see?” I said when he appeared in my bedroom. “That wasn't so bad.”

“The kitsune says he will come to you in two hours,” Volusian said in his flat voice, not deigning to acknowledge my comment.

Two hours. Well, it was better than nothing. I sighed. “Okay. Thanks.”

Volusian simply stared. My gratitude meant nothing to him.

“Alright. Go watch Jasmine then. Don't let her escape, and for God's sake, don't let her get pregnant.”

“For how long?”

“Until I say so,” I snapped.

The malice radiated off Volusian, but my mastery of him would not let him disobey. Demeaning task or not, he had no choice. He vanished.

Once alone, I lay back on my bed, hoping two hours would go by quickly. Like everything else among gentry royalty, the bed I'd inherited was plush and luxurious, with a thick down mattress. The covers were heavy brocade and almost never needed in this weather—but they felt great to lie against. It wasn't quite sunset outside, but the light was fading, casting long shadows onto the room's heavy stone walls. I'd need to light torches soon.

A knock at the door forced me upright. “Yeah?”

It was Nia. She gave a polite curtsey. “Your majesty, you have a guest.”

For a glorious moment, I thought it was Kiyo. Then: no. It was too soon. And Nia wouldn't have announced him. Everyone around here knew enough to let him in by now. “Who?”

“Prince Leith of the Rowan Land.”

“Leith?” I said, certain I'd misheard. “I just saw him, like, six hours ago.”

Nia shook her head helplessly. “He's here, that's all I know.”

I swung my legs over the bed's edge and stood up, slipping my socked feet into short leather boots. Leith? What was he doing here? A flash of panic went through me. Had something gone wrong in Westoria? If so, wouldn't my own people have told me?

They'd taken him to my parlor, where he sat on the edge of one of the satin-lined chairs. He sprang up at my approach, hurrying over to catch my hands in his. He leaned down and kissed them.

“Your majesty. Thank you for seeing me so unexpectedly. I'm sure I'm interrupting all sorts of important things.”

“Not so much,” I said, withdrawing my hands. “And you should really just call me Eugenie now. What's up? Is there a problem?” Around here, who knew what could go wrong? Famine, flood, locusts…

“A problem with—oh, no. Everything in Westoria is great. We made amazing progress today.”

I relaxed. “Good. I was worried.”

Leith shook his head, eager to reassure me. “No, no problems there. I just…well, I know this is strange, but I just had to come see you. That is, I had to ask you something. I feel like an idiot, though.”

I frowned. “You can ask me anything. What's going on? Are
you
okay?”

“Oh, yes.” His embarrassment grew. “But after today…I just had to hear something from you.”

“Okay, ask.”

“Are you involved with the Oak King?”

“Involved with…what, you mean romantically? With Dorian? No!”

Leith's face shone like the sun. “You mean it? When I saw you together today. The way he spoke…and the way you two interacted…well, I thought for sure the rumors were true.”

“What rumors?” I asked warily.

“That you were still lovers.”

“Where are you hearing these rumors?”

“Pretty much everywhere.”

“Well, the answer is no. Absolutely not.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Leith exhaled with palpable relief. He reached for my hand, and I stepped back, putting space between us. The rapture on his face made me uneasy. “Then there's still a chance.”

“A chance for what?” I asked.

“You and me.”

“You and—oh, Leith, no.” It was just like everyone had said. “I like you—you're really great—but there isn't going to be anything happening with you and me.”

“But…” He moved forward again, and again, I moved away. “But you keep wanting to see me and have asked me to be a part of your kingdom. I just assumed…”

“No, no…Leith, I'm involved with someone already…you know, Kiyo? The kitsune? We're together.”

He frowned and was still too close to my personal space. “I didn't think it was a serious romance. I thought he was just a…”

“Fling?” I suggested.

“Yes. I mean, someone like you couldn't take him as a true consort.”

I sighed. “Why does everyone say that? I love Kiyo. We're together. We're going to be together for a very long time.”

Leith's earlier joy was rapidly giving way to distress. “But…I mean, with my background and the way we get along, we're a perfect match. Admit it: you
are
usually happy to see me.”

“Of course I am. But that's because I want to be your friend, not encourage you romantically. I like you—like hanging out with you. But that's it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I led you on.”

“It has to be more than friendship. I know it is for me.” He sighed. “I've never been able to talk to someone so easily. It feels natural.”

“That's because you guys always make everything so…exaggerated. There are probably a dozen girls you could sit down with and have great conversations with if you just got rid of the formality.”

“No.” The grief on his face was killing me. “It's something about
you.
I just can't help it. I'm falling more and more in love with you every day.”

“You barely know me! You can't love me.”

“I do,” he said in a low voice, and some of that glowing passion returned. “From the moment I saw you. Mother had said you'd be a suitable match politically, but even if that weren't true, I'd still love you. I've never met anyone like you, Eugenie. So brave and beautiful…I'd want to be with you even if we weren't ruling a kingdom together.”

“Leith,” I said, trying hard to make my voice stern. God-dammit. Why couldn't he have been an annoying jerk like most of my other would-be suitors? Why did he have to be a nice guy? With great effort, I tried to let him down easy instead of in my usual harsh way. “I meant it: I like you. But that's it. I value your help and your friendship, but I'm not leaving Kiyo.”

“But I love you.” It was weak and plaintive.

I shook my head. “I'm sorry.”

His face fell, and he turned away, wrapped in despair. He started to walk toward the door and then abruptly turned, eyes alight once more. “If things end between you and the kitsune…then I'd be next in line, right?”

“Next in line? Er, well…” Why couldn't I just lie and say yes? Or why not use a “I don't want to ruin our friendship” kind of crap line? “I don't think so, Leith. I just don't think I could ever feel that way about you.”

Leith stared at me wide-eyed for several moments, and then at last, his features tightened. “I see. I'm sorry to have taken your time, your majesty. Your workers in Westoria understand my task and should no longer require my help.” He gave a small, polite bow and then hurried out the door.

“Leith…” I took a few steps forward, my stomach sinking. I felt horrible. I knew he'd had a crush on me, but I hadn't thought it was much more than the usual Otherworldly attractions I experienced. His face at the end there had broken my heart. I hadn't wanted to hurt him, particularly after all he'd done for me.

Dejected, I returned to my bedroom and ordered wine sent up. It arrived in a jewel-encrusted pitcher, complete with a heavy golden goblet. Had to love gentry room service. I declined any requests to see anyone until Kiyo arrived. I sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed and wondering how much of the wine I could get through before he arrived.

To my surprise, all of it.

I had no clock there but was pretty sure more than two hours had passed. I'd drunk goblet after goblet, thinking about Jasmine, Leith, and Art—and finding no resolution for any of them. I was staring at the bottom of the empty pitcher, pondering the time, when I heard a soft knock at my door. Finally!

I stood up and felt the world sway around me. I gripped the bed for support. “Kiyo?” But it wasn't him. It was Shaya.

Like Rurik, she'd dropped a lot of formalities and didn't bother with a curtsey. Her face was troubled, and I saw her clever eyes assess me and my drunkenness in a matter of seconds. “I'm sorry to bother you…but a messenger just arrived from the Willow Land.”

The anger I'd been kindling against Kiyo's tardiness ran cold. “Oh my God. Is he okay?”

Shaya hesitated and then gave a swift nod. “As far as I know, he's fine. It's Queen Maiwenn everyone's concerned about…she's gone into labor.”

I stood there for several long seconds, staring at Shaya but not really seeing her.

“Thank you,” I said at last, my voice unnaturally flat even to me.

She hesitated, eyes worried. “Is there…is there anything I can get for you?”

More wine
, I thought. But I shook my head. Wine suddenly didn't seem strong enough. I wanted to go home just then and raid my liquor cabinet, seeking solace in my own home and its bed, not this godforsaken Dark Ages fortress. The wine was going to make transitioning between the worlds harder, though. It wasn't impossible but would hardly be as smooth as usual. No, it seemed I might be stuck here for a while.

“I need to see Volusian,” I said.

She stepped aside for me, and though I didn't ask for it, she followed me solicitously as I headed downstairs, down to the keep's dungeon. It seemed darker and drearier than it had last time, but maybe that was the wine. Jasmine's cell was easy to spot because four guards stood in the hall outside it. I reached it, and through the bars, I saw Volusian standing in one corner, perfectly still, with his arms crossed over his chest. Jasmine sat as absolutely far from him as she could, her face equal parts fear and sullenness.

“What do you want now?” she snapped. I didn't even look at her.

“Volusian,” I said. “I have an errand for you. I'll watch Jasmine while you're gone.”

Volusian walked forward, passing through the bars and coming to stand in front of me. “No doubt my mistress has a more urgent task.”

“Moderately. I want you to go back to Tucson and bring me the bottle of tequila I keep in my liquor cabinet. And
don't
scare Tim.”

Volusian remained motionless in that way of his. “My mistress grows increasingly creative in her ways to torment me.”

“I thought you'd appreciate it.”

“Only in so much as it inspires me to equally creative means to rip you apart when I am able to break free of these bonds and finally destroy you.”

“You see? There's a silver lining to everything. Now hurry up.”

Volusian vanished. With him gone, Jasmine grew bolder. She hurried to the front of the cell, holding the bronze bars as best she could with her bound hands. “When are you going to let me go?”

I sat down against the hall's wall, opposite her. I wondered if she'd try any of her stunted magic with me around. “When are you going to stop asking?”

“You're a real bitch, you know that?”

“Look, little girl,” I growled. “You do
not
want to mess with me tonight. I'm not in a good mood.”

Jasmine was undeterred. “I can't believe you're keeping me in here with that…that thing! That's just cruel and sadistic.”

“Wow, sadistic's kind of a big word. I didn't think you'd stayed in school long enough to learn that kind of vocabulary.”

Her glower darkened. “When I get out, I'm going to kill you.”

“Then you and ‘that thing' should get along beautifully, seeing as he spends all his time plotting my grisly death too.”

She nodded down to her bound hands. “I can barely feed myself, you know.”

“Barely isn't the same as can't.” But I did feel a little bad about that. Was I really going to keep her in cuffs forever? Yet, how could I not? Maybe I should investigate that potion Rurik had told me about. No…that wasn't right either. I sighed, and spent the next half-hour listening to her alternate between insults and whining. It was better than thinking about Kiyo, though. All the while, I was sobering up, so when Volusian finally appeared and handed me over a full bottle of Jose Cuervo, I gave silent thanks that I'd purchased an extra-large bottle.

“Thanks,” I said, rising to my feet. I pointed to Jasmine's cell. “Now—back to guard duty.”

I turned around without a second glance, Jasmine's cries of outrage echoing behind me. Shaya, who had waited silently the whole time, fell in step with me as I walked back upstairs.

“Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you?”

I eyed the bottle. “See if you can find some little glasses about this big.” I held my fingers out to the size of a shot glass. “And bring enough for…I don't know. You, Rurik…hell, anyone who wants to get drunk with me. Even Ysabel.” I was feeling magnanimous tonight. Or, well, at least in a misery-loves-company mood.

Shaya's face looked more troubled than ever, but I paid it little concern as I walked outside to a small circular courtyard in the castle's center. This seemed to be a fixture in most gentry holdings. Dorian had a couple. I'd been told that this one had been green in Aeson's time, filled with lilies and lilacs. Now, it was sandy and gravelly, lined with cacti, mesquite, and even some of the thorn trees that had given the land its name. At least the mesquite scented the air, and I decided one perk of the Otherworld was that those trees always seemed to be in bloom.

I sat down cross-legged in the middle of the courtyard, noticing that someone had started to set stone tiles into it to create a kind of patio area. It hadn't been there last time, and I wondered if it was Shaya's doing, just like the patches of grass she kept trying to grow around here. Not waiting for shot glasses, I uncapped the tequila and took a long swig, the strong liquor burning my throat.

Shaya returned shortly, Rurik following. His face was uncharacteristically serious. After a brief moment of exchanged looks, they joined me on the tiled ground. Shaya set down some tiny cups made of engraved silver. Not quite shot glasses, but they would do. I took the bottle and filled three of them up.

“To the Willow Queen and her child,” I said, holding my cup in the air. I downed it one gulp. “Damn. Wish I had some salt and lime.”

Shaya and Rurik exchanged glances once more—did they honestly think I didn't notice each time?—and then followed my lead with the tequila. Rurik took his down stoically, but Shaya choked on hers.

“What…what is this?” she asked, once she was able to speak.

“God's favorite liquor. I should have had Volusian run to the grocery store and get some margarita mix while he was out.” I paused, laughing at the thought. I poured another shot. “It's made from a kind of cactus, you know.”

Shaya eyed the bottle askance. “Truly?”

“Yup. Huh. I wonder if we could manufacture this stuff. I've seen agave around. I bet we could set up some serious trade with it.”

“I'm not so certain,” she said.

Rurik was pouring another glass. “I don't know. It might appeal to some.”

“Ah, Rurik. I knew we were kindred spirits.” I held up my empty shot glass, studying the way the half-moon's light shone on it. My head was regaining its pleasant buzz again. “Do you think Maiwenn's going to have a boy or a girl?”

“I don't know,” said Shaya after several moments of silence. “There are those who can magically determine such things. But I haven't heard of the Willow Queen doing that.”

“Probably not.” Kiyo would have told me. Or would he have? Maybe he would have held on to that news, keeping it as a special secret between him and Maiwenn. I poured another shot but didn't drink it yet. Shitfaced was one thing; sick was another. “Back in my world, they would have known its gender a long time ago. They also would have been able to tell all sorts of things—its size, if it had any diseases, even if it was twins or triplets. There's this machine we've got. You run a paddle over the mother's stomach, and then you can see the baby up on this screen. Or, sometimes, even earlier, they can take a needle and suck up amniotic fluid to find out the same things.”

Rurik and Shaya were staring at me wide-eyed. It was a common expression amongst Otherworldly denizens whenever I began talking about human technology.

“I wonder sometimes if there's any mystery or wonder left in your world at all.”

I glanced over and saw Ysabel's form silhouetted in the doorway to the castle.

“Oh, sure. Plenty of it.” I gestured her over. “Come have a drink. I'm pretty sure I'm too drunk to kill anyone tonight.”

Ysabel hesitated a few seconds and then slowly walked over, sitting near Rurik and Shaya, as far from me as she could respectfully go. She grimaced slightly at the tiles as she tucked her flowing silk skirts underneath her. No doubt being on the ground went against her fastidious nature. Rurik cheerfully handed her a tequila shot. She sniffed it, and her scowl returned.

My mind was still on babies. “Seems like ultrasounds would be useful to you guys. I mean, what with the trouble you have having kids.”

There was a good chance, I knew, that Maiwenn might not even survive the delivery. Or that her child wouldn't. It was common among the gentry, sort of the cost for their long and healthy lives. I didn't know how I felt about that. I didn't wish death on either of them…and yet, how much simpler would things be if there was no Maiwenn and no baby? Even now, I could picture Kiyo by her side, holding her hand. His handsome face would be lined with worry as he spoke words of encouragement. Surely, with his human blood, their baby would be healthy and strong. And Maiwenn was a healer…. would that be useful to herself? Maybe. Everything would go well, I was certain, and they'd undoubtedly have a beautiful baby, one that would create a bond between them forever, a bond I could never be a part of….

I drank my next shot and noticed that Ysabel had manfully downed hers. “Nice work,” I said. “You want another?”

She shook her head. “I don't consider it ladylike to drown oneself in excess, losing hold of inhibitions and all sense of decorum.”

“Of course you don't,” I said.

“I believe,” she added primly, “that the Willow Queen shares my views.”

I smiled, spinning my cup on the ground, watching in fascination as it turned in smaller and smaller circles before coming to a stop. With Maiwenn's baby consuming my thoughts, Ysabel's baiting seemed insignificant tonight.

We continued on for a while, Rurik keeping up with me in shots, with Shaya only occasionally indulging. Ysabel seemed to have lost her fear of me and continued her running commentary of barbed remarks. I think knowing I was in a fragile state over Maiwenn's labor had emboldened her. In fact, she was in the middle of some anecdote about how Kiyo and Maiwenn had first gotten involved when her words came to a halt, and her features lit up with surprise.

“My lord!” she cried, springing up just as one of my servants began announcing, “His royal majesty, King Dorian, of the House of Arkady, caller of earth—”

Dorian strode forward into the courtyard without waiting for his titles to finish. Ysabel fell to her knees before him, face radiant. “My lord!”

He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment and then swept on past her toward me. I don't think anyone except me saw the devastation that filled her face over the slight. Shaya and Rurik began to rise out of courtesy, but Dorian quickly motioned them down. Unfastening his cloak—it appeared to be navy in the moonlight—he spread it on the ground and sat beside me.

“Well, well, a party, and no one invited me.”

“It was kind of impromptu,” I said, reaching over to pour him a shot. My hand trembled as I held the bottle.

Dorian took it from me and finished pouring. He eyed me carefully. “And yet, it appears to have been going on for some time.”

“Yes. We're toasting the birth of the next king or queen of the Willow Land.”

“So I've heard, which is why I came to see how the news was received here.” Dorian tossed back the tequila. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the taste, but it didn't stop him from pouring another. “And don't presume her child will inherit. It all depends on strength and power.”

His words reminded me distantly of Leith's own inheritance problems, which then reminded me of Leith's declaration of love. Ugh. I'd probably killed our one chance at engineering help. Well, that was a concern for another day. “How'd you get here so fast?” I asked Dorian.

“Not that fast. I heard hours ago.”

Hours ago.
Dorian had found out before I had. Probably everyone had. Who was I, after all? Certainly no one who was connected to this birth. I was just another monarch who'd be expected to send jewels or tapestries when the baby was born. I poured another shot, but Shaya reached for it.

“May I have another?” She wasn't a fan of this stuff, but I had a feeling she wanted to stop me from drinking any more. Oh, well. There appeared to be about one more shot in the bottle—though Dorian beat me to that one too.

“You'll make yourself sick,” I warned, reaching for the bottle. Only a few drops poured into my cup.

“I'll take my chances. This is a fascinating substance.”

“It comes from cacti,” I said helpfully, hoping it might deter him from that last shot. It didn't.

“Intriguing,” he said after downing it. “You should try producing it here. I'm certain a number of people would trade for it.”