The Silver Siren (24 page)

My knees felt weak and I had to grab
hold of the wall to steady myself.

It was too much. I felt dizzy, sick,
and weak. King Tieren opened his mouth to say something to me, but
I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He motioned for a guard who
came rushing toward me. I panicked and reached for a thread of
power to push the guard away, but nothing came. Strong hands seized
me.

~~~

I was expecting the dungeon again, but
instead they placed me in an extravagant suite. I lay upon the
oversized bed and stared at the stone walls. Someone had lit a
candle in my room, and it had been burning so long it began to
flicker, dying out.

When the candle finally gave up and my
room became dark, still I lay there, silent,
waiting…thinking.

All King Tieren had done was destroy
everything I thought I finally knew about my family and life. It
was like being thrown from a horse and having the wind knocked from
me. I stared in the direction of the candle and tried to get it to
light, which wasn’t my specialty. Still, I felt like I should have
felt something—some stirring of power. Instead, I felt empty, as if
a part of me were missing. My head still felt a bit fuzzy and I
wondered if there were a bit of drugs still running through my
system, blocking me from using my gifts. If that was so, then I was
going to have to continue to be a polite guest until use of my
gifts came back. Maybe by then I could blast my way out of the
castle.

Maybe I could even bring down the
castle with me in retaliation. I smiled at the thought and
continued to wait. I’d keep testing the limits and reaching for
power every few minutes.

After a quick knock on my door, an
older woman opened the door and entered. Her graying blonde hair
was pulled into a crown upon her head. Her skin was fair, and fine
wrinkles sprayed across her proud face. Her black dress, though
made of the finest velvet, had little adornment other than the cut
and the style of the dress. But all suggested someone of
importance.

She stopped within a few feet of me
and studied me carefully. I glared at her, refusing to look away.
Her mouth pinched in a worrisome frown and then she released a
loud, dejected sigh. “Well, you definitely have your father’s
coloring, but you can’t hide those eyes. Even if the shade is
off.”

The remark stung but I didn’t let it
show on my face.

“
Well stand up, dear.
Let’s take a look at you.”

“
No,” I said
firmly.

She looked tired and impatient. “Your
mother would have said the same thing. You, I hope, will be more
loyal to our cause.” The things this woman said made me want to
scratch her eyes out or push her out a window. She was
horrid.

She came forward and stared down her
long straight nose at me and I watched as her nostrils flared in
impatience. “You will have to do. Heaven knows I don’t have time or
the resources to play these kinds of games much longer. I’m too old
for such tricks.”

I let her ramble on and on as the door
opened again and two servants brought in a trunk. They began to lay
out a wardrobe befitting a queen—silk dresses, petticoats, shoes,
ribbons, stockings.

They measured me and stuffed me into
eight different dresses before they found one that complemented my
skin tones and my unpleasant eye color.

“
No, go with the silver.
She’s got the blood—we can’t hide it now,” the woman chuckled
softly.

Soon, a smaller servant girl began to
sew me into the dress and kept accidentally poking me with the
needle. As soon as she was finished, I stormed across the room and
right up to the cruel matriarch.

“
I don’t know what you’re
trying to do, but I am not a doll.”

“
Of course not, my dear.
You are my granddaughter, and I am trying to keep you alive. So
hold your tongue and your patience, and maybe we will both live
through the upcoming dinner,” she muttered something else under her
breath. I thought I caught the barely audible words, “…and the
war.”

“
Grandmother?”

Her words momentarily stunned me. I’d
never had a living grandmother before, so I was unprepared for what
to say or how to address the situation.

But the announcement hadn’t fazed her.
“You may call me Lady Portia, or Grandmother. Either one is
suitable.”

I bit back my impatience at her lack
of care and asked again, “Why am I here?”

“
Because if what I’m
hearing about you is true, and the seal around you is breaking,
then this is the best place for you, don’t you agree?

“
Seal? What seal? And I
was safe where I was,” I countered back.

“
Even your own clan
couldn’t save you from the Elite. Now this is the safest place for
you. Out of the out of the reach of the Denai.”

“
But I’m not safe from
you,” I glared at her.

“
True,” she cracked a
crooked smile. “I’ve been told that the truth hurts. And I hope
you’re not afraid of a little sting, because you are to learn that
everything you know is a lie. It was not just Tieren that wanted
you to come here. I’ve been pressuring him to bring you back here
for years.”

“
Why would you do
that?”

Portia went to the mirror in my room
and began to straighten her hair. “You don’t think our Thelonia
left the luxury of the castle to go live in the mountains on her
own accord did you? She left to find your father, to try and save
our kingdom.”

Her words hurt, and I could feel the
poison of them seeping into my very thoughts. If I let them, they’d
eventually destroy my childhood memories bit by bit. I didn’t have
many that included both my mother and father. But I couldn’t let
that get in the way. I needed to learn more. “Are you saying that
she never loved my father?”

Portia looked dismayed. “That was a
poor choice of words, dear.” Her tone softened and she turned to
grasp my hands. I wanted to rip them but I waited to hear what she
had to say. “I’m sure eventually she fell in love with
Boren.”

“
Bearen,” I corrected
curtly. This time, I did yank my hands away.

“
Yes, that’s right. I
remember now. But Thelonia was the one to come up with the idea of
finding your father and your clan. She had every intention of
bringing you back to Sinnendor when you were older. She hoped that
whatever curse affected our royal family would lose its strength if
you lived in Calandry.”

“
Curse? What curse? And
why share this with me now?”

“
All of the males are
mentally unstable and I fear that Sinnendor will soon fall,” she
whispered, her eyes searching the hallways for listeners. “After
your mother died, our only hope was to manipulate Tieren into
bringing you here. It was her desire that you one day come back and
rule as Queen of Sinnendor. Even if we had to start a war, and take
the throne from her own brother, what better family than the
original descendants of King Branncynall himself to retake
Sinnendor’s throne.”

“
A pawn. I was a pawn
before I was even born. A means to an end.” I felt disgusted at
Portia and—for once—even a little resentment toward my own mother.
But then I remembered her smile and how much she loved me. However
selfish or noble her intentions were at the beginning, I couldn’t
help but realize they weren’t the same at the end. My mother loved
me.

“
But it is a glorious end
that comes with a throne,” Portia added, interrupting my
thoughts.

“
I don’t want it. It has
been and always will be just a chair. Whether it’s padded or
covered in gold. Even if it comes with a country to rule. I’ve no
interest in attaining any furniture.”

Portia frowned at my cheekiness. “Now
you sound like your mother.”

I couldn’t help but smirk before
asking, “Who else knew about this?”

“
Neither Tieren nor his
sons know of our plan. Only your mother, Gideon, and I
did.”

“
Is the king so easily
influenced?” I asked, confused.

She shook her head, signaling silence
and opened my door and walked out. The thickening plot intrigued me
now more than ever. I simply couldn’t justify leaving without
getting answers about both Tieren and my mother. Clearly, Portia
knew how to bait the hook and keep my interest piqued, but whether
or not she could catch me in her nets was up me.

I had to stay one step ahead of
her.

I lifted the hem of my dress and
followed her down the stairs, across the hall, and into the largest
dining room I’d ever seen. The long table could easily seat thirty
guests. Only five tableware settings were placed near the head of
the table, which was filled with gold platters of food—boar, duck,
meat pies, fresh bread, soup, and a spread of delicate pastries and
desserts.

“
Be silent unless spoken
to. Watch and learn. Judge for yourself why we needed you here in
Sinnendor. You will see why our future depends on you,” she
whispered and sashayed to the table quickly.

Tieren sat in the large oak chair at
the head of the table. He focused more on his goblet of wine than
the plate filled with wonderful cuisine in front of him. Prince
Sevril sat stiff in his chair, his arms held out in front of him in
fists. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, his eyes
were ringed with shadows, and his clothes looked like he had been
sleeping in them for days. I identified Tomac because of his bright
red hair, a trait obviously passed down from his mother.

Portia motioned for me to take the
empty seat next to Prince Sevril, while she moved to sit next to
Tomac. I watched carefully as Portia started to serve herself some
soup and daintily sipped from her spoon.

Tomac had already had a huge boar leg
and was speaking with his mouth full, one leg thrown casually over
the arm of his chair. “So, Sev, where have you been disappearing to
the last few days? You look like horse manure and you are starting
to smell a fresh steaming pile.”

Sevril ignored his younger brother’s
taunts and buttered a roll. Actually, I wondered if he even heard
Tomac’s insults, because he barely blinked an eye as he ate. He
just chewed with small distinct bites and swallowed.

Tieren happened to look up from his
goblet of wine and glance over at me, blinking a few times in
confusion. His eyes brightened, and a smile lit up his face as if
he’d just noticed my appearance.

“
Thelonia, you’re here! I
was just telling Gideon how I couldn’t believe you won my best pony
from me in that hand of cards. I bet you cheated. You cheated,
didn’t you?” Tieren’s face was ruddy and his words were
slurring.

I looked between Portia and the king
for guidance, but she encouraged me to continue the discussion. I
faltered a bit, gathering my courage to play the part. “No, you
were just always bad at cards.”

Tieren slammed his golden goblet down
on the table and everyone turned to stare at him. The red liquid
dripped down the side of the gold rim and pooled around the base of
the goblet’s stem. Tieren’s eyes scrutinized the dribble before a
huge smile arose on his face.

“
Right you are. Right you
are.” He turned and looked at the tapestry hanging on the far wall
and began to have a full on discussion with the stag sewn into the
fabric.

My hands shook as I reached toward my
cup and tried to fill it with water from the pitcher. After I took
a drink, I turned to Portia who nodded in affirmation.

Feeling a little bit braver I decided
to press on. “King Tieren,” I spoke his name and waited for him to
come around to looking at me again. Finally, his eyes focused on
me. “Why do all of the Elite have white hair?”

Tieren’s eyes slid from my face down
to the table and then back up. “It’s a mark of honor, of respect to
be part of the Elite. They’re not as good as having a bonded
SwordBrother, but they are good at protecting us from the
Denai.”

“
But the Denai don’t come
here,” I answered. I briefly wondered if Tieren knew about Kael and
me. He couldn’t. Unless he knew more than he was letting
on.

“
That’s because we don’t
let them,” Tieren scoffed. I watched as he became more inebriated,
and I stood up and walked over to fill his cup with more wine. The
drunker he became, the freer his words flowed.

“
That’s a shame that there
are no SwordBrothers here to replace the Elite. I heard that they
are the fiercest warriors in the world.”

Sevril tilted his head slightly and
watched me out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t much, but I
could tell that he was suddenly interested in what I had to say.
His bites became slower, as if he were afraid to miss
something.

King Tieren bobbed his head. “If I had
a retinue of SwordBrothers, then I know I would have been able to
protect you, Thelonia. You wouldn’t have died in that horrible
land.”

“
Died…yep. Dead, dead,
gone,” Tomac sang in a singsong voice, then giggled and snorted
into his hand.

Sevril leaned back in his chair,
turning to watch me warily, under half-lidded eyes.