The Beauty of Darkness (14 page)

I sat on her bed and thumbed through one of the books from her bag. It was one she had told me about, the Song of Venda. The one that mentioned the name Jezelia. I lay back and sank into the soft mattress, looking at words that made no sense to me. How could she be certain of what they said? She wasn't a scholar. I remembered her expression back in the Sanctum when she tried to explain the importance of it to me.

Maybe it isn't chance that I'm here.

A chill had crept up my neck when she said those words. I'd hated the way Venda—woman or kingdom—was playing on her fears, but I remembered the crowds too, and the way they grew each day. There was something unnatural about it, something that didn't feel right to me, something that even the Komizar couldn't control.

I laid the book aside. It was behind us now. The Sanctum, Venda, everything. Including Griz's ridiculous notion of her being his queen. We'd be on our way to Dalbreck soon. I cursed the fact that we couldn't leave right away. The colonel couldn't spare an escort large enough to please Sven, but he said he expected a rotation of troops to arrive in a few days and we could leave safely with the departing troops. In the meantime, he'd ordered the falconer to send a swift trio of Valsprey to Falworth with news of my safety and my imminent return.

He said that would also give him time to update me on matters at court.
Prepare me
—those were the warning words I saw in his eyes—even if he didn't say them. My return to court was not going to be easy. I knew that. I was still trying to absorb the knowledge that my worst fears had been realized. Both my mother and father were dead, and they had died not knowing the fate of their only son. Guilt riddled through me.
But they knew I loved them. They knew that much
.

We agreed to wait until tomorrow after I was rested to discuss the details of my parents' deaths and everything that had transpired since. The cabinet would be furious when they learned where I had been and the risks I had taken. It was going to take some work to regain their confidences.

But Lia was alive, and I would do it all again if I had to. Sven and the others understood. Once the cabinet met her, they would understand too.

 

CHAPTE
R
TWE
N
TY-O
N
E

KADEN

I followed the guards as if I didn't know where I was going, but I remembered every inch of the Marabella outpost—especially where the privies and showers were. As we walked past the gate that led to the paddocks, I saw they had added another watchtower to the back paddock wall. It had been their only blind spot. A very unlikely one because of the steep, rocky access and the river below, but a blind spot nonetheless, and it had allowed me to gain entrance.

Lia had asked me once how many people I had killed. Too many to remember them all, but this one I remembered.

There.

I eyed the privy on the end. A fitting place for him to die.

“Hold up,” Tavish said.

I stopped while the guards went into a supply hut.

I was sure they wouldn't be offering me a shower and fresh clothes if they knew I had slit the throat of one of their commanders. That was two years ago. I couldn't remember exactly what his sins had been, just that many Vendans had died under his command and that was reason enough for the Komizar to send me.

This is for Eben
, I had told him before I slashed the blade, though I didn't know if he had anything to do with killing Eben's parents. Now I wished I knew. I wished I could remember all the reasons.

That was a lifetime ago, Kaden. We were both different people then.

“Something wrong?” Tavish asked.

The soldiers had returned with supplies and were waiting for me to follow.

“No,” I answered. “Nothing's wrong.”

We continued on to the showers, and I was grateful that the water was warm. It wasn't like the vagabond hot springs that had practically boiled the grime away, but it was easier on sore muscles than the ice water of the Sanctum. It felt good to wash off the blood of men who had once been my comrades, those I had ridden with only months ago—yet today I had helped kill them.

“Looks like Griz is going to be all right.”

I kept my head under the water, pretending I didn't hear Tavish. Was he fishing for compliments? Just because he had stitched Griz up out in the wilderness?

When I turned to give him a cool reply, he was scrubbing under his arms and studying me. I didn't like Rafe or his deceptive friends, but the truth was, Tavish had saved Griz's life, and I did owe him thanks. Griz was still my comrade—maybe my only one.

“You're skilled with a needle,” I offered.

“Only out of necessity,” he answered, turning off the water. “No one else wants the job.” He toweled off and began to get dressed. “Funny, Rafe won't shove a tiny piece of steel into someone's cheek, but he can bring down three men with the single swing of his sword without even breaking a sweat. But you already know that, don't you?”

A not-so-subtle warning. I remembered him watching my exchange with Rafe back in the surgeon's barracks. He obviously didn't appreciate my lack of regal respect.

“He's not my king. I won't be bending my knee to him like the rest of you.”

“He's not a bad fellow if you give him a chance.”

“I'd expect you to say something like that, but I'm not here for chances or to be someone's friend. I'm here for Lia.”

“Then you're here for the wrong reason, Assassin.” He tightened his belt and adjusted his scabbard. His eyes were hot black pools. “One other word of advice—be cautious when you use the privies. Especially late at night. I've heard they can be dangerous. Surprising, isn't it?” He turned and left, ordering the guards outside to wait until I was done.

He had been studying me more closely than I thought. It was only a simple glance at the privy, but he'd seen it and put it together. No doubt he'd be keeping a diligent eye on me—or making sure someone else did. He was probably already telling Rafe about his suspicions.

Had any of them noted that I had fought on
their
side today?

I continued to shower, in no hurry to join back up with the guards who waited for me. I wondered when and if I would see Lia again. Rafe wouldn't make it easy, especially now that he was—

I shoved my head back under the water. I hadn't even gotten used to the idea of him being a prince, and now he was a blazing king. I sputtered water out and scrubbed my chest. Did Lia really think he would traipse behind her all the way to—

I turned off the water.

He won't go to Morrighan.

But that won't stop her.

Something warm slivered into me.

I felt hope again.

He didn't know her like I did.

There were a lot of things he didn't know.

There was even the possibility that Lia was using him the way she had used me.

That same thought tumbled into another.

There were also things she didn't know about him, and maybe it was time she found out.

 

CHAPTE
R
TWE
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TY-TWO

Night fell early, and I heard a distant hum. A song? Was it possible their eventide passed here with remembrances of the girl Morrighan too? It didn't seem likely, and yet we had all sprung from the same beginnings. How far had those beginnings diverged? The night tugged at me, a quiet pull I wanted to give in to, yet the golden lit windows of the officer's dining room lay ahead.

I followed Madam Rathbone up the steps of a large wooden structure with a wide veranda all the way around it.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her arm. “I need a moment.”

A furrow lined her brow. “There's nothing to be afraid of.”

“I know,” I said, slightly breathless. “I'll be right in. Please.”

She left and I turned, bracing myself against the railing.

I had always faced others' expectations, usually with little patience, snapping at the cabinet who pressured me in one way or another, but now I had to deal with another kind of expectation that I didn't fully understand. It was mired in complications, and I wasn't sure how to navigate them.
Your future queen.
When I walked through the door of the dining room, that was what they would see. I had told Kaden that I would somehow make it all work, but I knew I couldn't. It was impossible. Someone always came out on the losing end. I didn't want it to be me and Rafe.

I looked to the western sky and its constellations: Aster's Diamonds, God's Goblet, and Dragon's Tail. The stars that hovered over Morrighan. I kissed my fingers and lifted them to the heavens, to home, to those I had left behind, to everyone I loved, including the dead. “
Enade meunter ijotande,
” I whispered, then turned and pushed open the door of the dining room.

Rafe was the first person I saw, and I secretly thanked the gods, because it made my heart weightless, soaring somewhere high and free. He stood when he saw me, and the look in his eyes made me grateful for Madam Rathbone's, Adeline's, and Vilah's efforts. They had chosen well. His gaze made my heart settle back down, now warm and full in my chest.

I looked past officers, wives, and whoever else was there, to where he stood at the end of the long dining room table, mesmerized. It was the first time I had ever seen Rafe dressed in his own kingdom's clothing. It was strangely unnerving, a confirmation of who he really was. He wore a deep blue officer's tunic over a loose black shirt, and a dark leather baldrick embossed with Dalbreck's crest crossed his chest. His hair had been trimmed, and his face gleamed with a close shave.

I sensed heads turning, but I kept my eyes locked on Rafe, and my feet glided over the floor to his side. This was it. I had no understanding of Dalbreck's formal customs. The Royal Scholar had tried to school me in the most basic of greetings, but I had skipped his lessons. Rafe held his hand out to me, and when I took it, I was shocked that he pulled me close and kissed me in front of everyone. A long, scandalous kiss. I felt color rush to my cheeks. If this was a custom, I liked it.

When I turned to face the rest of the guests, it was quite apparent this sort of greeting was not standard protocol. Some of the ladies had color on their cheeks too, and Sven's hand rested over his mouth as if he was trying to conceal a frown.

“My compliments and gratitude, Madam Rathbone,” Rafe said, “for taking such good care of the princess.” He unclasped the fur cape around my shoulders and handed it to a servant. I sat in a chair next to him, and that was when I took in exactly who was present. Sven, Tavish, and Orrin were all dressed in the deep Dalbretch blues as well, their appearances transformed with a razor, soap, and crisply pressed clothes—officers in the powerful army that Sven had told me the history of so proudly. Sven, like Colonel Bodeen, who sat at the opposite end, wore a gold braid on his shoulder too. There was nothing to distinguish Rafe and his position, but they certainly didn't keep the trimmings of a king on hand at an outpost.

Colonel Bodeen jumped in with introductions. Greetings were cordial but reserved, and then servants brought in the first of many courses served on small white porcelain plates—warm goat cheese balls rolled in herbs; finger-size rolls of chopped meat wrapped in thin strips of smoked pork; fried flat breads shaped into bite-size bowls and filled with warm spiced beans. Each course was served on a fresh plate, and we hadn't even gotten to the main course yet.
You'll see.

Yes, I saw, though I was sure Colonel Bodeen was setting a more extravagant table tonight, to honor not only their returned comrades, but the king they had thought was lost. Jeb's absence was due to the physician's orders for rest. No one else seemed to notice that Griz and Kaden weren't present, though I was certain they would both have been extremely uncomfortable at the table. At times I felt I was in a dreamlike fog. Only this morning we had been on the backs of horses fighting for our lives, and now I was navigating a sea of porcelain, silver, glowing candelabras, and a thousand tinkling glasses. Everything seemed brighter and louder than it was.

It was a celebratory evening and I noted the effort to keep conversation light. Colonel Bodeen brought out his revered red-eye and poured Sven a glass. He announced that another celebration was in the works that would include the entire outpost. It would give all the soldiers a chance to toast their new king and—Colonel Bodeen added hesitantly—their future queen.

“Marabella parties are unmatched,” Vilah said with excitement.

“It lifts spirits,” Bodeen added.

“And there's dancing,” Madam Rathbone said.

I assured them all I was eager to partake.

Between courses, toasts were offered, and as the wine and spirits flowed, caution was forgotten and more conversation was directed at me.

“Madam Rathbone told me you set a fine table,” I said to Colonel Bodeen, “and I must admit I am quite impressed.”

“The Marabella outpost is known for its exceptional food,” Fiona, Lieutenant Belmonte's wife, answered, her voice filled with pride.

“The better fed a soldier, the better they can serve,” Colonel Bodeen explained, as if the food wasn't an extravagance, but a battle strategy.

The memory of the Komizar's assured grin and tall shining silos shimmered behind my eyes.
Great armies march on their stomachs.

I stared down at the plate before me. A smear of orange sauce and a pheasant leg bone lay upon it. There had been no plates of bones to pass before the meal, no acknowledgment of sacrifice. Its absence left a strange hole in me that begged to be filled. I wasn't sure what had happened to my own tether of bones. It had probably been thrown away along with my bloody and torn clothes as something unclean and savage. I discreetly slipped the bone from the plate and hid it in my napkin before the servant could take it away.