The Key (21 page)

Everyone
bowed or curtseyed when Prince Lennek and Rema passed by.

“Relax, darling. You’re squeezing my arm.”

Rema tried to loosen her grasp. “Everyone is staring,” she whispered.

“Of course
, we are the center of attention. And you, my sweetness, look delicious enough to eat.”

Rema s
hivered, feeling like a piece of meat before a hungry pack of wolves.

Stopping in the center of the room,
Lennek thanked everyone for coming to share in their happy celebration. Then he leaned down and whispered, “Ah, my brother is here. Good. I can’t wait to introduce you to Prince Darmik. There he is, next to my father.”

Rema
froze in place. Her eyes darted to the head table, seeking the familiar face. Her eyes locked with Darmik’s, and a prickling heat spread throughout her body, turning her cheeks as red as her dress. Her lips broke into a smile.

“Come on
, darling.” Lennek pulled her along, escorting her toward the table.

Rema couldn’t take her eyes off Darmik. He wore a black tunic and black pants
, the only sign of his position was the silver crown embroidered on the front. Walking toward him, Rema took the opportunity to examine his face. He was still as handsome as she remembered, but he had an ugly bruise on his left jaw and a cut above his right eyebrow—like he had been in a fistfight. It made him look dark and foreboding. But he was Commander of the King’s Army.

Darmik’s face remained impassive,
as if he didn’t recognize her. Rema’s smile vanished and her initial excitement was replaced with a feeling of dread. She couldn’t figure out what Darmik was thinking. She had an intense desire to go to him, but she knew that would only infuriate Lennek.

Reaching the table, Rema finally tore her eyes away from
him. The table consisted of four place settings, the king in the middle, Lennek and Darmik on either side of the king, and Rema at the end next to Lennek. Sitting down, Rema felt the scrutiny of everyone in the room.

Servants brought in plates of food
, helping to divert the attention away from her. There were two different kinds of fish, potatoes, vegetables, and wine. Even though her appetite was gone, Rema tried to eat anyway, not wanting to waste the food. Glancing around, most people were too busy talking to one another to eat. Rema wondered what was going to happen to all the food. Would it be thrown away or given to those in need? She’d have to look into that.

Getting up her nerve, Rema stole a
quick peek at Darmik. He sat with his arms crossed, not eating, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed furious. She wanted to scrutinize every detail about him, but she needed to focus on Lennek, so she wouldn’t get herself in trouble.

After the king finished eating,
one of the musicians announced dancing would begin in the adjacent room. The king asked Rema for the first dance and escorted her to the ballroom, everyone following behind them.

The musicians began playing
a simple, elegant melody. Rema danced the first set with King Barjon. Throughout the entire dance, the king kept Rema at arm’s length, not paying any attention to her. He didn’t even attempt conversation. Rema didn’t mind, and she used the opportunity to study him. King Barjon was someone Rema would never trust. It was his eyes, just like Lennek’s, that revealed a cruelty within. When the music ended, his arms dropped from her waist, and he moved to a group of guests next to them. Rema was relieved that the awkward moment was over.

She glanced around
for somewhere she could slip off to and hide, but Lennek hurried over to her side. “It’s time you met my brother.”

Lennek
guided Rema over to the other end of the room, where Darmik stood against a wall with his arms crossed. She must have hesitated because Lennek whispered, “He won’t hurt you.” There was a strange amusement to Lennek’s voice.

Prince
Darmik certainly looked the part, but she wasn’t afraid he was going to hurt her. There was something else fueling her resistance to talk to him, a feeling she neither recognized nor understood.

“Darmik,” Lennek addressed his brother informally. “I’d like you to meet Rema, my future wife.”

The music started up, and the next dance begun. Darmik’s eyes bore into Lennek’s. He didn’t even glance Rema’s way. Perhaps he didn’t recognize her, especially since she was dressed like a princess. Or he didn’t remember her—that was most likely the case. Rema wished she could run to the stables and find comfort in Snow.

“Go ahead, Darmik,” Lennek encouraged
, nudging Rema forward. “Dance with her. She’ll be your sister-in-law soon.”

Several expressions flickered across Darmik’s face.
A strange mixture of fury and regret. Rema tried to decipher his mood, but his face was blank again. Darmik didn’t respond to Lennek; instead, he shook his head ever so slightly and moved toward the dance floor. Lennek steered Rema after him, giving her a little push.

Darmik
spun around, his eyes narrowing. He almost seemed mad, and Rema wondered if she had done something wrong. Darmik studied Rema’s face a minute before gingerly putting one hand on her waist, the other on her shoulder, and gliding her around the dance floor. His hands were warm even though he barely touched her. It was comforting to be near this man, and strangely peaceful—like a warm fire on a brisk winter morning.

They danced in silence.

“So, does no one in your family talk?” Rema finally asked, confused that he hadn’t spoken a single word to her. She longed to hear his voice and one kind, sincere word. Darmik seemed startled by what she had said. Good, that at least was some reaction. “Your father,” Rema clarified, “he didn’t talk to me either. I assumed he thought I was too beneath him.” She waited for him to say something, anything.

Darmik closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them back up. “
Rema. From Jarko?”

“Unfortunately,” she
bitterly replied. Darmik didn’t respond. Rema assumed he didn’t want anything to do with her either, so she gave up and danced in silence. When this dance was over, she’d claim an illness and go to bed.

After dancing a
nother minute, Darmik leaned in and asked, “Can you please tell me how
you
became my brother’s fiancée? I thought you were already engaged to another man. Explain.” His voice was soft and close to her ear. It sent a shiver throughout her entire body. The nearness of him brought the familiar smell of horse.

“I
have no idea. I was hoping you could explain it to me.” Rema stared into his eyes. They were warm and gentle, pulling her in—the opposite of Lennek’s.

“A conversation for another
time, perhaps?” Darmik replied, his eyes roaming around the room.

Rema nodded i
n understanding. “I haven’t been into the city yet,” she said. Perhaps Darmik could escort her. It would give them the perfect opportunity to talk. Darmik twirled Rema around and pulled her back toward his body. They were only inches apart. She had the sudden urge to put her head on his chest and breathe in his familiar scent.

“
Prince Lennek has ordered the castle guards to accompany you at all times.”

Rema couldn’t help but laugh. “
So I need an escort?”

“An armed escort
,” he clarified.

Lennek was dancing with another girl not too far away.
His hands moved freely over her back as he whispered in her ear. The girl laughed; her face a rosy pink.

“One of Lennek’
s many flings,” Darmik said, following Rema’s line of sight. He stared at Rema, trying to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t sure what her face revealed, but Darmik chuckled. “Don’t look so relieved,” he said, still laughing.

She
liked the sound of his laugh. It was a real laugh, one from humor, unlike Lennek’s.

Rema
inspected the other dancers. “Why am I the only one in red?” she asked, wanting to shift to a generic topic, one that wouldn’t get them into trouble.

Darmi
k stopped laughing. For an instant, he looked like Lennek. “Because,” he said, “my brother knows it’s my favorite color. None of the court ladies are supposed to wear red unless I’ve asked them to.” There was a harshness to his voice that frightened her.

“Then why
—?” Rema started to ask.

B
efore she could finish her question, the music ended and Lennek was at her side. His hands slid around her waist, holding her tight. “This way,
my
love.” Lennek twirled her away.

“Perfect,” he said smugly. “Absolutely perfect.” He glanced back at Darmik and gave a little wave.

Darmik

Darmik wanted to punch that smug expression right off his brother’s face. If Darmik didn’t get far enough away from Lennek, he would. There were enough warning signs that Lennek was up to something. However, it never occurred to Darmik that it could’ve had anything to do with Rema. Hadn’t Lennek already proved he had the upper hand? Wasn’t what happened last time enough?

Storming out of the Grand Hall, Darmik waved his guards away. He didn’t want to be around anyone right now. But
in corridor after corridor, he encountered servants or courtiers who had already left the party. He needed to get out of this place.

Grabbing a torch
from the wall, Darmik slipped behind a closed door. He descended a set of stairs and traveled along the musty tunnel leading to the military compound. When he reached the wooden ladder, he climbed up, and entered a small room. Darmik extinguished the torch and exited, heading directly to the training yard.

A dozen men were about.
Darmik needed to fight somebody. He announced a challenge that was open to anyone, but only hand-to-hand combat—he didn’t want to accidentally kill any of his soldiers. Two men raised their hands. One was Darmik’s size, the other at least six inches taller with fifty pounds more muscle framing his body. Darmik pointed at the bigger soldier, and a circle formed around them. Everyone cheered.

S
liding his dominant foot back, Darmik turned his body sideways, and raised his hands, ready. His opponent crouched low and extended out his arms, trying to draw Darmik toward him. Darmik moved in fast and low, punching the soldier in his ribs. The man answered back by wrapping his arm around Darmik’s neck.

All
thoughts of Rema faded away as Darmik focused solely on his opponent and winning.

****

“Am I late?” Darmik asked, entering the castle’s private dining room.

“No, Your Highness. Prince Lennek and King Barjon are having their breakfast out on the terrace.” The servant bowed and moved to the door.

“Don’t open it,” Darmik ordered.

On the other side of the glass,
his father and brother were talking with their heads close together. Then Lennek leaned back in his chair and smiled. The king nodded, seeming pleased with whatever it was they were discussing. It made sense that Lennek would be happy. He had a lot to be happy about. He was going to marry Rema, keep a few mistresses close by, and eventually be king. Lennek was getting everything he ever wanted. Of course he was. He always did.

Shoving the door open, Darmik walked out onto the terrace.
He slid onto the chair across from Lennek, wanting the opportunity to scrutinize his brother’s behavior.

“Good morning,” Darmik said.
Neither the king nor Lennek acknowledged him.

Lennek
spooned a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

“Beautiful day out,” Darmik said.

“Umhum.” Lennek smiled, his eyes sparkling. That was all the evidence Darmik needed. His hands clutched into fists.

“I’m finished
eating,” the king announced. “Lennek, I’ll see you in my office later today.”

“Yes,
Father. I’ll come as soon as I’m back from...well,” Lennek glanced at Darmik, “I’ll be there this afternoon.”

The king
shook his head and left.

Now that it
was just the two of them, Lennek’s shoulders relaxed. He smiled arrogantly at Darmik.

It was time to level with him.
“That was a nice stunt you pulled last night,” Darmik said.

“Glad yo
u enjoyed it,” Lennek responded, interlocking his hands behind his head while leaning back in the chair.

Darmik wanted to
pound on him until he saw blood. His right foot was close enough to hook it around Lennek’s chair and pull, causing it to crash backwards. How he would love to see his brother fall.

“Why Rema?”
Darmik asked, trying to keep all emotion from his voice. He was sure Lennek wanted him to lose his composure.

“I have to marry.
” The front of Lennek’s chair came down with a bang. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Father wants it to be someone from the lower class. I saw Rema. Her appearance pleased me. She fits
all
the requirements.”

So this
was
about the two of them—Lennek against Darmik, again. He felt sorry for Rema. If only he hadn’t seen her that day at the governor’s stables, then Lennek wouldn’t have singled her out.

“Did you even give Rema a choice in the matter?” Darmik asked
, paying particular attention to Lennek’s body movements.

Lennek
gazed out in the distance, chuckling softly to himself. “I knew you had a thing for her,” he said. “And still do.” His eyes sliced back to Darmik. “Does it bother you to know that she chose me over you?”

It took an enormous amount of willpower to keep his face calm and not reveal the anger brewing inside.
Darmik wanted to ask why Rema was locked in a guarded room if she freely chose Lennek. What he said instead was, “It doesn’t bother me at all. You deserve happiness. Congratulations.”

Lennek raised his eyebrows. He was no idiot.

“I have work to do.” Darmik pushed away from the table and left the terrace.

There had to be something he could focus on in order to distract himself from thoughts about hurting his brother. He wasn’t used to spending this much time around Lennek.
Or being confined. The tattoos—Darmik still needed to verify the tattoo issue.

Since
he was stuck here until the wedding, his research was limited to the castle. The most obvious place to start was the library. The king’s library was large, but nowhere near as extravagant as some of the libraries in Emperion. But his father didn’t value knowledge like the emperor did.

Upon entering, Darmik scanned the
tall room. No one was about. He closed the door and shoved one of the chairs against it. Every wall was lined floor to ceiling with books. In the center of the library were two settees and a few cushioned chairs for reading. He folded the area rug between the settees in half. Dropping to his knees, he felt along the wood floor until one of the planks shifted. Darmik slid his dagger from his boot and lifted up the plank. He remembered the first time his father had showed him and Lennek this secret room. Lennek could have cared less, whereas Darmik wished the room was available for everyone to use. But the king had insisted that this room was for the royal family only, and no one was to know of its existence.

The planks came out
easily, revealing a door. Darmik unlocked and opened it up. Grabbing one of the oil lamps, he descended the ladder into the archive room. It was a small, musty room lined with books and records. Most of the material contained histories of Greenwood Island or life stories of prominent individuals. Since the island’s schools only taught history beginning with the reign of King Barjon, all books that dealt with the time before the king were either destroyed or here in this room.

For the next couple of hours, Darmik
combed through every single book on one of the four walls. Not a single one in this section dealt with the tattoo issue. His eyes were sore from the dim lighting and all the reading. He needed a break. 

****

The guard unlocked the door and pushed it open. Darmik entered and found Rema standing in the light of the window, her forehead against the glass.

He cleared his throat.
She jumped, spinning around to face him. Bloody hell she was beautiful.

“Want to get out of here?”
he asked.

Darmik
knew he shouldn’t be here. It would be best if Rema declined his offer, but he foolishly hoped she would agree to go with him. Since Lennek was gone for the day, it gave them the perfect opportunity to talk. He wanted to warn her about his brother, but more than that was his desire to be near her, to get to know her. Darmik had to remind himself to keep his face void of expression because he couldn’t afford for anyone to know how he really felt about her.

The corners of
Rema’s mouth turned up. “I could use a little fresh air.”

Although he was thrilled, Darmik tried to act casual a
s he ordered the two posted guards to accompany them. He didn’t want to create any unnecessary suspicion. They left her room and went to the castle’s side courtyard, where his private guard was mounted and waiting. Darmik had told everyone that the king wanted him to make nice with Lennek’s future wife.

He led her to
where Neco stood, holding the reins to two horses.

“Here
,” Darmik started to say but Rema had stopped a few feet behind him. She stared at the white mare Neco held for her. It was one of Darmik’s, though he rarely rode it. The mare wasn’t a warhorse, but it was spirited. 

“Is something the matter?” Darmik asked.

Rema’s eyes were glossy, her eyebrows bent inward. Was she going to cry?

“No,” she
said. “I’m fine.” Rema walked over to the white mare and held up her hand for it to smell. Then she stroked its muzzled and spoke softly. The horse sniffed Rema’s hair and nudged her shoulder.

“
What’s her name?” Rema asked as she mounted.

“Treasure.”

Rema smiled. “She’s beautiful.” That was one of the reasons Darmik had chosen Treasure for her to ride.

Darmik
rode the black stallion he had bought from Rema’s uncle while in Jarko. The horse was exceptionally bright, loyal, and best of all—fast.

Once mounted, Darmik raised his hand, giving the signal to
move out.

T
hey left the courtyard and trotted through the grounds surrounding the castle until they came to the exit. Rema gazed out at the city. Darmik wished he could take her into it, but parading around with such a large entourage wasn’t a good idea. Darmik decided they would stick to the land outside the city wall instead.

Not wanting
to ride down the main street to the exit, Darmik led the party toward the military compound. On the outskirts, next to the compound’s perimeter, a small, wooden structure stood guarded by two soldiers.

“We’ll be traveling through,” Darmik said
to the men. “Expect us back later today. No one else besides this group is granted access.”

“Yes
, Commander,” the soldiers answered. They opened the door to the small shack.

“Torches, please,” Darmik instructed. The soldiers reached down
inside the building and pulled out several torches. They lit and distributed them throughout the guard.

“Stay close by,” he
instructed Rema. She nodded and guided her horse closer to him.

“Where exactly are we riding?” she asked, looking confused.

Unable to suppress a smirk, Darmik simply answered, “You’ll see.”

He
rode his horse into the dark shack, the torch providing enough light to reveal the downward slope into a secret tunnel. Rema followed, now appearing fascinated. They traveled down through the narrow passageway, which leveled out after twenty-five feet. The tunnel was rarely used because of its small size, and hardly anyone knew of its existence. When they exited, they were outside of King’s City. Sunshine and open land greeted them.

The soldiers formed a loose circle around Darmik and Rema
.

“
Now where are we going?” Rema asked.

“There,” Darmik pointed straight ahead. “Greenwood Forest.” She stared at him.
Perhaps she was too afraid to travel into the trees.

“Looks to be about t
hree miles away,” Rema commented.

“Roughly.”
Maybe they could just skirt the perimeter instead.

“And do you expect to travel at this speed
for the entire trip?” A slow smile spread across her face as her eyebrows rose.

He was about to say something when she
leaned forward, grabbing onto the horse’s mane. “Race you!” The heels of her boots nudged the mare, and Treasure took off into a gallop.