The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (50 page)

“Then you should be prepared.”

“Prepared?” I let out a short, scornful laugh and Jarryd’s silent call for caution hit me from the other side of the room. “If you charge across the water and try to take Kabri, one army against the other, you will be calling Draken husband in less than a week. But go ahead,” I gestured at her. “Maybe you like wearing Langorian Red.”

“That was not a very rousing speech, Shinree. Before you address my army, I suggest you make your words a bit more inspiring. And,” her eyes
wandered over me in disgust, “cover yourself the next time you appear before me. I am not some shameless Arullan Warrior anxious to bare herself at the sight of your scars. I am Queen. I hold the key to your freedom. And I am not my mother.”

I was close to saying something inappropriate when Jarryd came back with the tea. Two cups in his hand, he offered one to Neela, but she shook her head at it. “Attend me, Shinree,” she commanded, rising from her chair. “We have much to discuss.”

“Neela,” Jarryd said persuasively. “Give him some time. He nearly died.”

“Silence, Messenger,” she chided sternly. “You have lost the right to address me so informally.”

Jarryd’s confusion inundated the link. “I don’t understand.”

Her chin lifted higher. “Your services are no longer required. When this campaign is done you will be relieved of your duty to the realm.”

“What?” Jarryd balked. “Have I done something to offend you?”

“There was no offense,” she replied. “It is simply a matter of loyalty.”

Anger joined his confusion. “You can’t be serious. I would give my life for Rella. For you.”

“Would you?” Grabbing Jarryd’s hand, Neela turned it over, exposing the marks on his palm. “You are not the same man that pledged his life to my kingdom.”

“I’m still
me
, Neela.” Jarryd yanked free of her. “I would never betray you.”

“Then tell me,” she demanded, “who comes first? Who would you listen to? Which of us would you save? Me? Or him?”

“Stop it,” I butted in. “You can’t ask him that.”

“How can I not?” she shot back. “Just look at what you’ve done to him. He is different, Troy, inside and out. In time, you will change him into someone I barely recognize. Someone who chooses you over me.” Her head shook in an anxious, helpless way. “Don’t you see? Jarryd is as much a slave to you now as your people are to mine.”

“That is not true,” I argued.

“You had no right!” she cried out.

I countered, with a loud, “Would you rather I left him to die?” and the room went instantly quiet. A handful of Rellan guards drew their swords and rushed to flank me.

“Ian, Neela
—
please.” Jarryd wedged in between us. “Liberating Rella is what’s important now. Not this.”

Swallowing, Neela looked at him. “You understand my position?”

“I do,” he said respectfully. “I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision.”

“It wasn’t,” she admitted. “But of late, there have been no easy decisions.”

“Then I won’t make this one any harder.” Jarryd bowed. “I will abide by your command, Your Grace.” He came up and met her gaze. “As I always have.”

Neela looked a little stunned. Tenderness invaded her round, dark eyes and she more resembled the girl I dreamt of. But the semblance was heartbreakingly fleeing. Tightening her face, her body, even her hands as they clasped securely in front of her, Neela clamped off the emotion like binding a bleeding wound. Then she took her guards and retreated back to the table. Her request for my company was seemingly forgotten.

“She can’t do this to you,” I said. “It isn’t right.”

Jarryd gave me one of the cups he was holding. “She’s scared.”

“Scared of what? Me?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. No one talks to Neela the way you just did. Only her father. And he’s gone now.”

“So, I remind her of her father?” I grunted. “That’s just great.”

Jarryd’s grin was short-lived. “Aylagar was a strong woman. Neela doesn’t show it, but she’s always been afraid of not measuring up. She’s scared of appearing weak, doing the wrong thing, making the wrong choice.”

“Like she did just now?”

“She had her reasons.”

“Bullshit reasons,” I muttered.

Jarryd took a long drink. It definitely wasn’t tea in his cup. “I’ve watched Neela shut people out for years.” He gave his half shrug. “It was only a matter of time until it was me.” Jarryd tipped his mug again, vigorously, drowning the resentment and the disappointment. The longing for something he once had.

Deciding to join him, I threw my tea into the fire and went to find some wine.

FORTY EIGHT

W
hat I was doing was wrong in so many ways. Lurking in the shadows, afraid to move for fear of being discovered; the moment was not at all as I imagined hours ago, when I spied Neela retreating to one of the back bedrooms to rest.

Then, I envisioned her undressing. I pictured her lying in bed, braids undone and clothes off. I imagined I would walk in and find her waiting. She would hold out her arms, pull me down on top of her, and there I would stay until morning.

Now, standing in her room, uninvited and unannounced, deliberately and stupidly invading the Queens’ privacy, I realized not only was I despicable (and possibly asking for a death sentence) she wasn’t anywhere near naked. She wasn’t even on the bed. Fast asleep, sitting on the floor, facing the open window, her back was pressed against the wooden bed frame, hear head was bowed, and her shoulders slumped.

It was an oddly casual position. It made the Queen seem downright approachable, and the idea of crossing the room, dropping to the floor and pressing my lips against hers, rational. She might even welcome it.

I took a step, then another. I took a few more. On step number six, the floor creaked and Neela jumped. Her head shot up. She spun around on her knees, and even with nothing more than moonlight, the accusation was plain in her eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” she demanded.

“I knocked,” I offered. I thought the lie might make me sound less guilty.

It didn’t, if her tone was any indication.

Livid, she asked, “How did you get past my men?”

“They might have a bit of headache when they wake, but nothing permanent.”

“I’m glad you restrained yourself.” She stood. “I will require time to deliberate on a proper punishment for your impertinence. For now, I will settle for reminding you that I have a title, and I expect you to use it.” Neela looked down her small nose at me. “Do not assume that because of who your mother was, or because you slept with mine, that you are above showing respect to your Queen.”

Her coarseness quickened my pulse. “You are not my Queen. Shinree have no sovereign rulers, only masters. Would you like me to address you as such?”

“I have trouble believing that you, Troy, would willingly call anyone Master.”

“There isn’t much a Shinree does willingly, Your Grace. The
Kayn’l
doesn’t allow it. Neither do the chains.”

“I wasn’t aware you had developed rebel tendencies.”

“Rebel tendencies?” I laughed. “Because I speak my mind?”

“Because you speak out of turn. My Shinree know their place.”

“And where’s that? Locked in a cage, or tied to the foot of your bed?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

I had another snappy reply ready to go, but I held back. The resentment flowing through me was irrational and unfamiliar. It didn’t even feel like mine.
Because it isn’t.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” I said with sincerity. “This is not me.”

Nothing moved but a single brow. “Explain.”

“The spell Sienn used to heal my wound is complicated. It left us…” I searched for the word, “tangled. It should wear off in few days.”

“I suggest, until it does, you do better to control it.” She drew an impatient breath. “Is there some reason you decided against requesting a proper audience?”

“I didn’t think you would see me. First impressions aren’t one of my strong points.”

“Agreed. I suppose this is about Jarryd then?”

“Jarryd? No.”

A touch of disappointment alighted on her face. “He didn’t send you?”

Now I was disappointed. “Jarryd’s been asleep for hours.”

“I see.” Her expression was thoughtful. “Do you really think me too hard on him? That I was unfair and quick to judge? You may answer freely.”

“Does my opinion matter?”

“I suppose not.”

“If I say you were wrong, will you change your mind about dismissing him?”

“The decision is made.”

“Then you’re just looking for validation. Or a fight.”

She sniffed. “I’m sure I have no idea what that means.”

“It means, Your Grace, you spend all day hiding behind your forced apathy and your cold formalities. You use them like a barricade. And when it gets so tight inside that you can’t breathe, you look for an argument. You debate with someone, anyone that disagrees with you, so you can let it out. So you have an excuse to feel.”

“Watch your tongue, Shinree.”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind if you use me.” I edged closer. “I’ll be your excuse. Your release.” The curve of her mouth pulled at me. I moved in.

And Neela’s eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates. “Troy!” she exclaimed.

“I’m sorry.” I stepped back. “I meant no disrespect. I’m not myself.”

“I fail to see how a healing can rob you of common sense and decorum.”

“That’s not it. There are other things going on with me. Things I’ve been trying to deal with, to make sense of and control, but…I can’t.” With that admission, my shoulders suddenly felt heavy, my stomach sick. “I don’t know who I am anymore. My whole life feels like a lie. My choices orchestrated. My desires fabricated.”

“Is this about Reth?”

It wasn’t when I came in
, I thought. But it certainly all came back to him; my lineage, my connection to the crown, my attraction to her. “Yes,” I said decisively. “Whatever you can tell me about him. About how all this started. How I came to be.”

“Can this not wait, at least until morning?”

“No. I need something real. Something true,” I said tightly. “Now. Tonight.”

Hesitating, Neela regarded me a moment. “Perhaps you should not prize the truth so highly, Shinree. It may not be to your liking.”

“I pretty much assumed that already.”

“As you wish, then.” she said, and jumped right into it. “For the last five hundred years, since the fall of your empire, Rella has furthered the Reth bloodline for our own use. Generations of soldiers have been produced, born in captivity, kept in secret with their magic suppressed. Many lived and died without ever having cast a spell. Others were weaned off the
Kayn’l
, put to use, and drugged again.”

“You kept us as what…weapons?”

“Essentially. But you are concerned only with one Reth, are you not?” She waited for me to nod. “When King Raynan, my father, was a young Prince it was questionable whether or not he was meant for kingship. He paid no attention to propriety. He spent considerable time drinking and brawling in unseemly establishments, and generally cared little what anyone thought, most of all his family or the royal court.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed Raynan Arcana had a wild side.”

“Very. His open affair with his father’s pretty, young, healer, V’loria, earned him the reputation of a Shinree sympathizer. That label was made worse when Reth was weaned off the
Kayn’l
and they became unlikely companions. Swordsmanship, horses, gambling, all the follies that young men engage in, my father enjoyed, and yours had been denied. So they indulged together. After a while though, Reth began to resent the inequality of their friendship. He found his own free will difficult to accept while surrounded by slaves of his own kind. Living in comfort at the castle caused him great guilt and he started petitioning for better conditions and increased rations at the labor camps. He demanded new laws be enacted against the mistreatment of slaves. Your father tried hard to improve the Shinree way of life, to change things—the right way.”

Relief was heavy in my throat. “Then he wasn’t always like this.”

“No. Nevertheless, Jem Reth was in a battle he couldn’t win. And as that became apparent, he grew bitter. His public outspokenness put a great strain
on his friendship with my father. It fell apart completely when Reth’s affair with V’loria came to light.”

“My mother said I came from an arranged breeding.”

“She lied. Whether she loved either of them, I have no idea. But V’loria Troy had an allure that neither of our fathers could resist.”

“If Reth was causing so much trouble, why wasn’t he put back on the drug?”

“By the time the order was given Reth had fled Kabri. Shortly after, slaves started going missing. Camps were attacked. Sellers robbed. He eventually freed enough Shinree to have a small following and, for a time, Rella had quite an uprising on her hands. It was after Reth’s capture that the resistance fell flat. It was like they didn’t know what to do without him.”

“He was their inspiration, their hero.” Sadly, I shook my head. “Gods, I wish I could have seen him like that, before Draken and the crown. Before—”

“Before he became desperate enough to kill your mother?”

“Yeah.” I gave her a hostile glare. “Before that.”

“Jem Reth betrayed my family,” she said, getting her back up. “He initiated an unsanctioned pairing that left the King’s personal healer with child. A very dangerous child I might add. My grandfather’s advisors recommended the pregnancy be terminated, but he decided the benefits outweighed the risks and V’loria was allowed to keep the child. For a time though, Troy, you were nearly never born.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

“An indication of gratitude might be appropriate, yes.” Eyes narrowing, she resumed her story. “After the debacle with Reth, it was decided a new approach was needed and you would be born free. Without
Kayn’l,
no time would be wasted on recovery and your youth could be spent in training. All that was needed was a way to keep you loyal.”

“The spell,” I nodded.