Siege: A Borrowed Magic Novella (2 page)

“Mostly?”

She shrugged. “I might be a
little
pleased that I know the famous Captain Philip.”

He laughed. “Now who’s conceited? And I’m no
captain.”

“Yet.”

He sat up, tilting her chin until she looked
up at him. “You always believe in me. You’ve never doubted. Not
once. I think it’s part of why I love you.”

Then his arms were around her waist, pulling
her against him and pressing his lips to hers. A minute later he
pulled away, ear turned to the music filtering through the open
windows.

“Would you like to dance?” He smiled, a
teasing lift to his lips that made her heart beat faster. “It’s
your favorite.”

“Well,” she couldn’t resist teasing in
return, “since no one else has asked…”

He grinned and led her back inside and to the
center of the room.

The music began, blanketing the room in
promises yet to be fulfilled, and Philip’s arm went around her
waist and her hand was in his. Then they were gliding over the
dance floor with everyone else, but somehow it felt as if it was
theirs and everyone else was intruding.

And then it was over. Too quickly. Maren was
left with a dreadful sense of impending loss. Even though they’d
still be in the same room, they’d had their two dances. For the
rest of the evening Philip would be dancing and being flirted with,
and she would have to watch.

They stepped away from each other, but he
kept her hand in his and squeezed it, reassuring her. Then he gave
her a quick bow, after which his mouth twitched up on one side and
he winked. “Lady Maren, it was a pleas—”

Something metal crashed against the marble
floor, sending a terrible echo through the room. And then the
screaming started.

Philip spun around, pulling her behind
him.

At first, she couldn’t see anything through
the chaos. And then a voice rose above everything. It was evil and
cruel and sounded wrong, grating against her ears in a way she
couldn’t understand. As if it wasn’t completely natural.

“I demand the return of my son.”

Silence, the kind brought on by fear, crushed
the room.

A man stepped through the crowd, tall,
handsome, with dark hair and even darker eyes. “I
demand
the
return of my son.”

The silence pressed in harder, and then, one
by one, harsh whispers cut through the air. “
Kern
.”

Maren grabbed Philip’s arm and felt him
trembling as much as she was. Kern was here. Not in a tomb. Here.
In Daric’s castle. Daric, whom he’d sworn revenge on.

She immediately searched for the king, only
to find him trying to push Adare through a door. But she wouldn’t
go. She held onto him as if her life depended on it.

But Kern didn’t seem to care about Daric. His
eyes darted over the room, examining the young men one by one,
until they alighted on Philip.

“What is your name?”

Philip tensed, but he didn’t flinch. “Lord
Philip.”

“
Lord
Philip.” A satisfied smile
twitched at Kern’s lips. “Not the name you were born with, but at
least the Lord part is correct.”

“What are you talking about?” Philip stood up
straighter. “I am not your son.”

“You don’t
think
you’re my son,” Kern
corrected. “And no one would have told you the truth, would they?
Lord Kern’s son. The last person anyone would want around their
children. But you are my son. Look at me and tell me you don’t see
the resemblance.”

Maren shivered. There was something…in the
bone structure, the coloring, even the eyes – except that Kern’s
were evil.

“Resemblance doesn’t mean anything,” Philip
said, his voice shaking only a little.

“No,” Kern admitted. “But this does.”

He began muttering words Maren couldn’t
understand. But she could feel them. Something dark wove its way
through the room, permeating every corner, every shadow, and she
was afraid. More afraid than she’d ever been. She heard cries of
fear, saw people cover their eyes against something they couldn’t
see, and heard Philip gasp in pain.

Then it was over.

And Philip wasn’t standing as straight as
before. She reached for his hand, only to have him draw it away,
towards his face, where he stared in horror as one single drop of
blood etched its way down his arm.

“Blood calls to blood,” Kern said.

“No!” Philip yelled, wiping his hand on his
tunic. “This is a trick.”

“No trick,” Kern said. “In fact...” His eyes
moved to Philip’s hand, to the ring she’d given him on his twelfth
birthday – the ring he never took off.

“Ah. My ring. I’m so glad you found it –
somehow. Did you know it protects against magic? More specifically,
it protects someone of my bloodline from magic.”

Maren sucked in a sharp breath and felt
Philip stiffen. Her father had given her the ring, told her that it
protected against magic, and insisted she give it to Philip since
he didn’t have any magical protections in place. Her father must
have known all along who Philip really was. And he’d never said
anything.

“If you weren’t my son,” Kern continued, “and
my magic hadn’t been focused specifically on you, you’d be standing
there with much more than a single drop of blood to worry you.”

Philip staggered backwards, his eyes wide
with horror.

Kern only laughed. “It’s not so bad. With me
as a father, no one will ever hurt you. You can leave behind this
farce of ‘society’ and join me. We’ll repay those who have tried to
hurt and separate us and build something we can rule together.”

Philip set his shoulders. “The only one who
has tried to hurt me is you. You, who tried to destroy the kingdom
I call home and all the people I love who are in it. I’ve lived
most of my life in fear of you. Hating you.”

Kern frowned. “Hate. Love. Such complicated
words. Would your friends have loved you knowing who you are?”

Philip went perfectly still, and Maren was
even more afraid – if that was possible. She put a hand on his
back, trying to reassure him, but he stepped away from her. No, he
pulled away, as if he couldn’t bear her touch.

“They know who I am,” he said to Kern.

He sounded sure, but Maren wasn’t fooled.

Kern only smiled. “Do they? Then by all means
stay. I hope your confidence in your friends isn’t misplaced.” He
wrapped his cloak around him. “When you discover it is, come find
me.” Then with a wisp of gray smoke, he disappeared, leaving the
room in perfect, dead silence.

Maren moved first, stepping to Philip’s side
and throwing her arms around him.

He caught her wrists, staring at her with
suspicion and disbelief.

Then he scanned the room. Every eye was on
him, most not even bothering to hide their horror as they backed
away, leaving Philip and herself alone in the center of the
room.

Maren felt his hands tighten, saw the
determination settle in his eyes, and then he shoved her away and
fled, leaving her staring after him.

Two

Her father sat at his desk, a book propped against
his knees, while Maren paced erratically across the small space.
She didn’t understand his ability to remain calm.

No one had seen Philip since he’d left the
ballroom. Maren squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to remember the
look in his eyes as he’d turned from her. As if she’d somehow
betrayed him.

“We have to find him. Something’s wrong.”

“No,” her father said. “When he’s ready,
he’ll come.”

Which wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Philip
was avoiding her. She just didn’t know why.

“Maren,” her father sighed. “He’ll come.”

She had to believe that. Otherwise, she’d go
mad with worry.

“Why didn’t Kern kill Daric?” she asked,
doing anything to distract her from thoughts of Philip – and where
he might be, or who he might be with. “He vowed revenge, and then
he has the perfect opportunity, and he doesn’t take it?”

Her father frowned. “I don’t think Kern was
strong enough. He’d been in that tomb a long time, and it drained
his power. What little he had left, he used to escape.”

Maren scowled. “It didn’t look drained to me.
You weren’t there. You didn’t see the blood or feel Philip’s pain
or hear him gasp.”

“No,” he said, his eyes full of sympathy.
“But it’s the only thing that makes sense. I think he was looking
for Philip and that’s
all
he was doing.”

“Then he’ll come back. He hasn’t
forgotten.”

“No,” he said. “He hasn’t forgotten.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who Philip was?” she
demanded next. “How did you even know? And more importantly, how
could you possibly believe he’d be anything like Kern? That’s why
you wouldn’t consent to our engagement. You were afraid.”

“Yes. I was afraid.”

“Why?” she cried. “He’s like a son.”

“But you
are
my daughter. I have to
protect you.”

She almost laughed. “From Philip? That’s
ridiculous. He’s not Kern.”

Her father looked down at his hands and then
back up, intense sorrow blanketing his face. “He could be. Kern
wasn’t always…” He shook his head. “That’s why I had to keep Philip
hidden, keep his true identity secret. That’s why I—”

The door banged open behind her, and she spun
around to see Philip. She wanted to run to him and tell him
everything would be all right, but he wasn’t even looking at her.
His eyes were glued to her father.

“You knew? You knew my ‘parents’ weren’t that
at all, that Kern was my true father.”

Her father hesitated and then his shoulders
slumped. “How much did you hear?”

“Only that you helped hide me from Kern. That
was enough.” Philip’s voice was harsh, his words thrown at her
father as if they alone could injure him.

And yet her father still managed to remain
calm. “I did.”

Philip clenched his fists, his knuckles white
with tension. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I promised your mother I wouldn’t.”

Philip paled at the mention of his mother. He
probably hadn’t had time to consider all that being Kern’s son
meant. That his mother was dead, murdered by his father.

If her father noticed Philip’s reaction, he
didn’t show it, just continued his explanation. “She came to me for
help, before she was killed, to save you from Kern’s
influence.”

Maren realized she was holding her breath.
How had her father known Kern and Philip’s mother? Why would she
come to him for help?

“You still should have told me,” Philip spat.
“I could have handled it.”

“Maybe,” her father remarked. “It wasn’t my
decision to make.”

Philip scowled but then it faded. “How could
you?” he whispered. “You were like a second father to me.”

“And you
are
like a son.” Her father
paused. “But even without the promise to your mother, I wouldn’t
have wanted you to know. I was afraid Kern would find you.”

“Or that I’d turn out to be just like him?”
Philip said, his voice so cold it was unrecognizable. “Well, he did
find me, despite your best efforts. I’ll never forgive you for
this.”

Her father’s face fell, and she wanted to run
between them, to make everything right again.

“I’m sorry, Philip.” Her father stood and
walked to the door. “I truly am. I never wanted to hurt you. I only
wanted what was best for you…and Maren.”

Even after he was gone, Philip didn’t move,
and she didn’t know what to say. Part of her was furious with him
for how he’d treated her father. Part of her understood what he
must be going through.

“Philip?”

He flinched, almost in surprise, like he
hadn’t even remembered she was there.

She took a step towards him, but he held out
his hand. “Don’t.” He just stared at her for a long time, as if he
didn’t know who she was and was trying to figure it out.

“Philip, please tell me what’s wrong,” she
begged.

“What’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh. “How
dare you ask me that?”

“Because I don’t know,” she cried. “You’re
like a stranger right now.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He strode across the
room and grabbed her hard by the shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me
the truth? I loved you. How could you have kept something like this
from me?”

“I…I didn’t know,” she whispered.

He all but threw her away from him. “At least
have the courtesy of not lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted. “I didn’t
know, not until last night.”

“You expect me to believe that?” He scowled
and crossed his arms over his chest. “You were the one who gave me
the ring, Maren. Kern’s ring. Your father told you it would protect
me.”

Her stomach twisted into a painful knot. “My
father only told me it would guard you against magic, not that it
only protected someone who shared Kern’s blood.”

Philip threw his hands up. “And I’m his
son!”

He set his mouth in a firm line, and she felt
her heart drop.

“You said you loved me,” he continued. “I
believed you.” He took a deep breath. “I still believe you. But
love isn’t enough, is it? Fear is stronger. And you’re afraid of
what I could become, of who I am, of whether I’ll turn out like
him, like Kern. That’s why you didn’t press your father harder for
his consent to our engagement.”

“No!” Her cry felt as if was ripped from her.
“You’re not thinking clearly. You’re in shock. Kern’s words are
poisoning your mind. You’re angry and—”

“Yes, I’m angry. But I am thinking clearly –
for the first time.”

The strength of his misplaced feelings
overwhelmed her, but she couldn’t give up. “I don’t care who your
father is. And knowing the truth doesn’t change the way I feel
about you. I love you. You need to believe me. You need to trust
me.”

“I wish I could.” He closed his eyes and let
out a long breath.