The Princess Who Tamed Demons (5 page)

I let out a nearly hysterical giggle. "Wow, it
wasn't so long ago that your younger brothers tried to kill us on
our wedding night, and now this. Conspiracies and assassination
attempts seem to follow me wherever I go, don't they?" I couldn't
keep the bitterness out of my voice.

Drake's grim mouth softened, and he leaned
down to press his lips gently to mine. My mouth opened, inviting
him in, but he drew back before it could deepen, and I saw a
haunted look creep across his face.

"The Vizier conspired with Agwen? But I
thought the Great Amir favored cooperation between our Kingdoms.
Why would the grand councilor go against his own monarch?" I
couldn't keep the lost-sounding tone from my words.

"The Vizier admitted that he believed you were
too powerful. Word has spread of some of your deeds, Najika. You
are not like the Queens wedded to the other Knights, who have
limited power and never leave their own Kingdoms. The Vizier saw
you as my full-fledged partner—which is very true—and he worried
about the example it would set for Lady Caerra and the status quo.
He viewed powerful women as a threat."

"And Queen Agwen?" I said, my eyes burning as
I held back tears. "Why she wants me dead is obvious enough, but
how did she and the Vizier arrange to…?" What were the words I was
looking for…become 'bedfellows'?

"Queen Agwen won't talk, but we have a clear
picture after we interrogated the Vizier. They were allies of
convenience who needed to cooperate for a chance to succeed. The
Vizier knew how to smuggle the poison into the household, but he
lacked the finances to purchase and transport it without attracting
notice. Agwen apparently came to Tajma to personally oversee the
delivery of the shape-changing herb, which grows only in tiny
pockets of mountainous terrain in the far west.

"The Purple Kingdom to be exact," I said, a
sliver of my tutor's botany lectures emerging unbidden in my
brain.

"Yes. The Vizier knew where the wine was
brought into the household and stored, and had personal access to
the drinks and foodstuffs of the palace household. Vizier al-Sham
knew exactly which wine to taint with the herb and ensured that the
tainted wine would be brought to you and Caerra at just the right
moment."

That made sense to me. The Gold Kingdom was
known for its exotic plants, many of which could be used to make
all kinds of poisons. It didn't surprise me that they would adopt
poisons from elsewhere in order to kill in their time-honored
fashion. A ruler here had to be very careful or the wrong dish
would be his last. Even the Gold Knight's more trusted councilors
didn't operate without oversight, so I understood why the Vizier
had needed a conniving outsider's help. A shiver tore through me as
I imagined just how agreeable Lady Agwen must have been to the
idea. Our plan to visit the Gold Kingdom on this diplomatic mission
had been no secret. Things of that magnitude seldom were, no matter
how many precautions one took.

"Then…wait, are you saying that Caerra drank
the shape-changing poison too?"

Drake nodded. "Yes. She was found with her
limbs bound in a closet, in the form of an antelope just like you.
We were fortunate, though, because the dosage they gave you was low
enough that you changed back to human form sooner than they'd
intended. Even a few more moments…."

"Why didn't they just give me a massive amount
of it?" I asked, my mind trying to put all these pieces into
place.

"Because too much of it would've been
impossible to mask with wine, and the odor would have given it
away, alerting the servants that something was wrong. There was
also no way for them to do it without Lady Caerra also imbibing it,
and whatever the Vizier's motives, he didn't want to accidentally
kill the Gold Knight's wife. I can tell you that there's another
angle to it," Drake said bleakly. I abruptly saw that haunted look
return to take hold of him, and it was no mystery why. I remembered
the feel of the bolt plunging through my abdomen, things tearing
and ripping inside. Looking up at the hunter who'd done it and
seeing it was my own husband.

"Lady Agwen wanted me to be in the hunting
party that killed you. She wanted you to die a violent death and
know that I'd helped cause it. She wanted you not just to die, but
to die surrounded by pain as you felt betrayed."

"That almost sounds like a direct
quotation."

"It pretty much is, if the Vizier's confession
is to be believed," Drake admitted softly. "The Vizier concurred in
the plan because he liked the idea of disposing of your body as far
away from the royal compound as possible."

In the silence that now opened up this gulf
between us I felt my insides clench and I wanted to empty my
stomach. It surprised me to realize that the unending hatred Agwen
felt toward me had finally become completely mutual.

"I've already said more than I should have,
Najika. You need to be focused on getting better. Get some more
rest. Close your eyes and let me bring you something to eat." The
firmness in Drake's tone told me that although I hadn't fully won
the battle for information, I had to be content with my gains. But
of course I couldn't resist poking the beast, especially with
unhappy questions still somersaulting in my head.

"Where is she? I want to see her."

Drake's body went rigid at my
words.

"Who?" He knew exactly who I meant. The Red
Queen. Agwen. The woman who had done more to destroy my life than
any other person I could name. "I don't think that would be a good
idea.
Najika
,
please
—rest."

He only said my name in that passionate tone
when he was feeling especially endearing or cross, and right now I
knew which one was winning out.

"I can rest when I'm dead. Take me to
her."

Before Drake could react I had already turned
away from him, planted both feet on the floor and pushed myself
upright. I wobbled on my feet for a second, withstanding the wave
of pain that roiled through my insides. He heard my sharp intake of
breath, and before I knew it he'd rushed around to the other side
of the bed, one arm slipping around my waist to steady
me.

"Najika, stop this! Your wound is still not
fully healed. How many times do I have to say it? You need to rest
and gather your strength."

"Really, and why's that?" I exploded. "It's
not like the damage hasn't already been done." I said the words
without thinking, and Drake looked like he'd just taken a kick to
the gut. The unspoken accusation hung there although the last thing
I wanted to do was hurt him.
The damage is done. I'm barren now,
and you were the one who pulled the trigger.
How was that for
the Queen of all guilt trips?

Drake's jaw slackened with shock at my
outburst before he looked away, the emotion drummed up by my words
as raw as if I'd scratched claws down his face. I immediately
regretted it, but my mouth couldn't seem to summon up the right
words to make it better. I used his shock to my advantage, taking a
few halting steps forward toward the chest that carried my weapons,
light leather breastplate, and padded silver-edged leggings. My
riding tunic was folded neatly beside the chest, and I bent down to
put it on first.

A hiss escaped my lips as fresh agony
skittered along my core and sides. When Drake tried to reach for me
again I stubbornly sidestepped him and started walking for the
door.

"Najika,
stop
! What do you think you're
doing?"

I turned, not the most presentable in my
camisole and undergarments. "If you won't help me dress and see
Agwen, I'll go as I am."

I'd just thrown down the gauntlet—that was for
sure. He'd never seen me like this, probably because I'd never felt
this way. This woman had taken something intimate from me—something
that apparently not even the strongest magic could cure. I was
feeling violated at the most basic level. Maybe I hadn't wanted to
have a child when first getting married to Drake, but I had seen a
family as something on the horizon, part of my overall plan.
Whether I had a child or not didn't change who I was, yet an
intimate life choice had just been irreversibly taken from me.
Having that freedom ripped away felt devastating. Did that mean I
had to be a helpless victim in all this? Not for all the coins in
the Gold Kingdom, and I was determined to prove that to Agwen in a
way that involved specifics best left unsaid.

I didn't know what I would say or do when I
confronted her, but the thought of
showing
her that she'd
failed—that I was alive and very much kicking—that promised a
certain thrill of satisfaction. If I was being honest with myself,
too, there was another action my subconscious was contemplating in
some deepest, darkest recess of my mind.

"Bronwyn," Drake called, and suddenly my
longtime friend and confidante was right there, smartly dressed in
her splint-armored vest with two daggers at her belt. Their pommels
winked at me in the fading sunlight which filtered through the
stained glass windows.

Bronwyn's eyes narrowed at me, much like a
mother tiger seeing its cub about to try its hand at stalking a
full-grown stag. She folded her arms, gave me a cool look and
proceeded to cool my ardor about as firmly as a glacier dropped on
top of a campfire.

"I warned Drake you might not be yourself
after everything that's happened. Now we can do this the easy way
or the hard way." She produced a small vial of liquid from her vest
pocket. It was cloudy, its turquoise color streaked with opal. When
she saw my eyes go to it, she nodded. "It'll help you relax.
Najika, don't fight this. You need to let yourself heal—inside and
out. I can see you're spoiling for a fight with the Red Queen, and
I understand the urge, but right now that's the last thing you
need." Bronwyn cocked her head at me, her eyes filled with tough
love—also known as the
I'll tromp all over your ass if you make
me
kind of love.

"Perhaps you don't know my needs as well as
you think," I said icily. "What exactly is the 'easy' way?" My
mouth formed a hard line.

"The easy way is you get your butt back in
bed," Bronwyn growled. "The hard way is Drake and I put your butt
in that bed and I force some of this down your throat." She shook
the vial for emphasis. "Either way, your butt and that bed are
going to be best of buddies, at least until the court physician,
Drake, or I say otherwise. I won't be asking again."

I debated making a stumbling lurch for the
door, but I was emotionally unstable, not completely stupid. I
coldly turned my back to her before returning to bed, lying back
and angrily drawing the covers over me. The looks I sent Drake's
and Bronwyn's way should have matched the lethality of the crossbow
bolt that had so recently pierced my body.

As the two turned to leave I managed to toss
one more question at Drake.

"What will happen to her?"
What will happen
to the inhuman—starts-with-a-'b'-and-rhymes-with-witch—who did this
to me?
Harsh, perhaps, but I'd had something harsher done to
me.

Drake sighed. "She will be taken in chains to
the court's current seat in the White Kingdom and be judged by a
summoning of a quorum of the Knights. If found guilty of
interfering in the Gold Kingdom's affairs of state, she will be
executed for her crimes or have her eyes put out and thrown into
the Black Pit."

Both of those ideas sounded great to me, but I
tried not to stoke the fires of my hate.

"And the grand councilor?" I asked.

Drake looked at me with grim satisfaction.
"Sir Amir and I decided that Vizier al-Sham's head would make a
nice decoration mounted above the northeast gate. It's already been
done."

He was referring to the largest gate in the
city of Tajma, a place where all the citizens could see how justice
had been meted out, public spectacle at its finest. It sounded so
cruel, but the truth was that because the Vizier was not of royal
blood, his fate could be decided with that kind of perfunctory
finality.

Good riddance.
I tried to ignore the
bad taste in my mouth and let sleep return, but it eluded me. I
stayed awake long after Drake had fetched me food and water,
forcing me to eat and drink a little before leaving me to my
thoughts when matters of statecraft called him away.

~*****~

Chapter 5

Day Five - Part 1

As a little girl, there was this parable my
father used to read to me about a nobleman who was wronged. The
nobleman had many blessings in his life, and yet one day none of
them seemed to matter when the unthinkable happened. One day a
bandit killed his daughter and son-in-law and kidnapped their
child. He'd intended to sell the child into slavery but somehow
could never bring himself to do it, raising the child as his own.
Many years later, when the brigand returned a reformed man, he also
came with a young woman—that same grandchild, all grown up. He
pleaded for forgiveness, beat himself and wept, and even the
granddaughter spoke up in his favor, saying that she had forgiven
him and that he had been a good father to her all these
years.

The nobleman listened to everything they said
and then ordered the execution of not just the brigand but the
granddaughter too, for dishonoring her parents' memory.