Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  I had expected Jyn’s temper—rage, fury, anger, those I could contend with. Caution and sadness? My chest swelled with emotions, regret and sorrow at the peak. I moved closer and dropped to the floor in front of him, crossing my legs. He glanced at me but quickly lowered his gaze back to the floor. His hands shook where they hung between his knees. I reached for one and laced my fingers between his.

  “Jyn.” I squeezed his hand. He looked up and finally met my eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought that if I took care of everything you’d see that I could handle this. That all of this would be easier for you. You’re right, this is all uncertain, but I can’t get Kathryn’s words out of my head, or Mother saying she’d tell me about all of this, only to have the unimaginable happen mere days later. Something about all this doesn’t sit right, the timing is too convenient.” I stared at our hands where they sat on his knee and sighed. “I don’t have any other leads as to what might have happened to my mother, Jyn. So I’m sorry. You know that I love you. I’m not trying to hurt you with this. I’m desperate. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I wish you’d let the Council do their jobs, Princess. Especially, if the Shadows really are involved.”

  “I know, and I know they’re going to do everything they can to find out who’s behind her murder and to find them before there’s another attack . . . but that doesn’t seem good enough. Thinking about this, planning this, and being productive has kept my mind occupied. Every other second my thoughts are filled with this void that I don’t know how to fill.”

  He slid to the floor beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I rested my head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand again.

  “I would never dismiss you,” I added softly. “And I really am sorry.”

  “You know, I am sorry that I made you feel like you’d be better off trying to conquer that forest without me, if need be. That I haven’t been more helpful. I don’t know that I’ve processed everything yet, and to be completely honest I struggle to see rumors as leads. But you’re right—they’re something. A place to start. They’re better than what we have without them.” Jyn sighed. “Did you even consider what you’ll do about Lucian while you’re off running around?”

  “No. He’s become a bit of a problem, I’ll admit.”

  “After this morning, he’s going to lose his mind if you and the people he knows you trust the most simply vanish.”

  “I know.”

  Jyn’s nose wrinkled but he considered. He picked at his belt when he said, “And Meryn? Where does she fit into this?”

  “Her magic will be useful, and she knows more of the forest’s lore than anyone else I know.”

  “Tomorrow, talk to Camion. We’re going fully armed, all three of us. I’ll pay. You’d be wise to ask him to join us, too. An extra trained weapon wouldn’t hurt.” I rolled my eyes but he ignored me. “We can leave after the funeral, I guess, but you need to be fully aware of the risks you’re taking. You could get hurt. One of us might not come back, if any of us do. Are you prepared for that? Is Annalea?”

  “She’ll have to be. If I don’t come back, Lucian can train her as he’s doing me. And if I don’t come back . . . If I don’t get out of there, take care of her, Jyn. Please?”

  He tightened the arm around my shoulders. “You’ll survive, Princess. If I survive, you’re coming back with me.”

  Chapter 20

  Lucian joined my morning lesson with Camion. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make up for his behavior the previous day or was trying to keep an eye on me. He had attempted to pair off with me, but I had refused. My lessons were with Camion. That wasn’t about to change simply because Lucian was in a mood.

  Jyn had offered to spar with him, negating his protests with a reminder that I would most certainly be safe with three well-trained men. In either case, I was absolutely certain Jyn took far too much joy in beating him down over and over. Granted, most of Lucian's attention was focused on eyeing Camion, which gave him no chance for advantage. Jyn disarmed and overtook him completely when Camion grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, after I demanded a break for water.

  “I can have the swords done by tomorrow and can visit the palace after the funeral, if you wish. Though—” Camion shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll admit, tomorrow does seem a strange day to be worried about such things.”

  “I know, but yes, tomorrow is perfect.” I hesitated and leaned closer to him. My shoulder grazed his arm. “Can you get more weapons done by then?”

  “More?” His brow rose. “I can make you anything you need, as long as you pay in advance so Fentyn is sated and I can work in peace. I have spares in the shop as well, so likely I won’t need to make everything.”

  “Before you leave for the afternoon, I’ll get you the gold and a list. Don’t take any from Jyn, even if he threatens you. He won’t actually hurt you. If you need more, let me know. You’ll get every bit you need.”

  His eyebrow crept a bit higher up his forehead. “You told him then? When do I get to know about this secret for which I’m arming my queen to the teeth?”

  “Tomorrow. When you meet me.” I shot a pointed glance at Lucian.

  Camion followed my eyes and inclined his head slightly. I shook my head, and nodded to the grass behind us. Without warning he grabbed my wrist and tugged me against his chest, pinning my arm at an angle between us. He slipped his free arm around my throat. My heart skipped.

  “Get free,” he whispered in my ear.

  I took a steadying breath. This was almost unfair. I refused to dwell on the soft breath on my neck or the annoying heat that spread across my body this close to his. Arm around my neck, my right arm pinned . . . I had options. With a quick twist, I slammed my free elbow toward his side. He curved around the hit with a loud snicker. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  Lucian and Jyn had paused their feigned training to watch my struggle. The prince’s face was drawn, arms crossed. Jyn laughed at my failed escape. Their watchful eyes fueled me, lit a fire in my gut. I jerked my hips to the side and slid my leg around Camion’s, using him as an anchor to pull myself free before I swept his legs from under him. He landed, hard, on his backside.

  “I’ve taught you too well,” Camion grumbled. I offered him a hand. He accepted and pulled himself onto his feet before he bumped my shoulder with his. “I’m going to have to stop going easy on you.”

  I straightened my back and stuck my chin out. “I could do it again.”

  He stepped closer. “Oh yeah?” A grin curved the side of his lips when I faltered. He leaned toward me, and I felt the soft brush of stubble against my cheek as he whispered into my ear, “Do your best.”

  I blinked, struck into a stupor. Jyn cleared his throat loudly, and I sighed. I had forgotten about our audience. Camion stepped back. He crossed his arms over his chest, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  “You have a visit with the high priestess soon,” Jyn said.

  My face fell. Concern flicked across Camion’s face but he didn’t speak, his eyes now locked onto Lucian. The prince’s expression was level, but he looked as though he was contemplating something. Calculating. Part of me felt the urge to shield Camion from his scrutiny. I frowned. Lucian caught my glance and flushed, turning his attention to the blade that had fallen at his feet.

  Before Camion left, I stopped him and slipped a heavy bag of gold into his hands. I had given him probably quadruple what he’d expected. His eyes widened. “I can’t take all of this. You’re vastly overpaying what we’d charge anyone else.”

  “Consider it compensation for the tight time-line.”

  “Tyli, I really don’t mind. This is far too much.” Camion pushed the bag back toward me, but I wrapped my hand around his fist, tightening his hold on the fabric.

  I looked up at him. “Please?”

  He stilled, eyes locked onto mine, before he said softly, “Tyli . . .”

  “Princess, I need to speak with Camion qui
ckly, and we need to go,” Jyn interrupted. His voice was gentle though, no teasing for once. I yanked my hand away from Camion’s, flushing and clamping my teeth down on my lower lip.

  “Be quick,” I said, stepping away.

  Lucian stood to one side fidgeting with his blade. When I stepped away from the others the prince made a beeline straight for me. When he was beside me, he nudged my arm and jerked his chin at the other two. “So, what’s going on with you three today? You’re as thick as thieves.”

  I glanced up to meet his golden eyes. He was smiling, but the nervous kind that didn’t quite reach his cheeks. “You know Camion’s a blacksmith, yes? I’m having him make a couple weapons for me. Jyn wants to pay, but I paid in advance. A gift for the stubborn man, if only he’d learn to accept them.” I nodded at where Jyn and Camion stood, Jyn trying to push a bag into the latter’s hands and Camion vigorously shaking his head no. I couldn’t make out the words Jyn was saying.

  “I see.” He paused. “How are you doing today? With everything?”

  “I’m alright. Trying not to think. Or feel.”

  Lucian shifted slightly, placing warm hands on my arms when he moved to stand in front of me. “If you need anything, let me know. I want to help you. Truly.”

  I patted the back of one of his hands gently. “Thank you. I’ll be okay. I appreciate your concern.”

  “Natylia, I’ll always worry about you. I think . . .” He paused, shooting a nervous glance at Camion and Jyn, who were now childishly shoving the coin purse back and forth between them. “I think I’ve cared for you—really cared—since we were younger. For as long as I’ve known you. I want the chance to know you again, like I did when we were small. When I knew that you would choose food over toys and when you made us flower crowns before we fought with the wooden swords we’d stolen from the training ring.”

  “Lucian, I don’t think we want the same—”

  “Later,” he interrupted. He grasped one of my hands and brushed his lips to the back of my fingers. “You have too much going on right now, but when I return . . . I have to start packing. I’ll see you at dinner?”

  He strolled away, and I stared at him, frozen in place. I almost missed that the other two had stiffened at Lucian’s actions. Both of them had noticed the exchange and the bickering between them had ceased completely.

  “What did I miss?” Jyn asked finally, as he hooked his thumb in a pocket. Camion rubbed at his neck before he turned to drain a waterskin. A poor attempt at hiding his interest, if I had to guess.

  “I think Lucian was . . . stating his intentions?” My mouth felt like cotton. The words stuck on my tongue.

  “What do you think of these intentions?” Jyn asked coyly. He wagged an eyebrow. Camion paused his motions, only slightly.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t expect that his interest in me could be genuine and not merely cultivated by our mothers.”

  Jyn froze, eyes searching my face. “Oh.”

  "I don't think Lucian and I want the same things."

  He clasped my arm when I pinched my eyebrows together. I looked to Camion, tried to gauge his reaction, but he vigorously avoided my eyes. I wasn’t sure why his opinion mattered, why I needed his approval. Or his disapproval. I had questions, and uncertainties, and for whatever reason I didn’t like the idea of trying to answer them without him. The thought was almost more bewildering than the words Lucian had actually spoken.

  I didn’t want to think about Camion right now.

  Did I?

  I shook my head. “I need to meet with Callithyia. I don’t have time for him right now. Camion, I hate to leave you like this. I’ll catch you up on everything tomorrow?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m fine. Take care of yourself and your sister, okay?”

  I nodded. Callithyia was to meet us in the main foyer of the palace. Preparations for the funeral were almost finalized, but I needed to approve the chosen prayers and select the final cloth for Mother to be wrapped in.

  My eyes pricked. I blinked hard, trying to focus on the materials before me. On one hand there was a royal purple silk, lined with cashmere. On the other there was a lavender-dyed wool blanket that had clearly been hand woven.

  “I know that this is a hard decision, my queen. I’m sorry this rests with you,” Callithyia said.

  “Thank you.” I glanced to where Jyn stood in a formal guard position. He winked, a quick gesture that barely shifted his stone expression, and I took a deep breath.

  “The purple silk.” The voice from behind startled me, soft as it was. Annalea moved closer, hesitant, but her eyes were locked onto the fabrics. “Please, Natylia? The silk reminds me more of Mother. Pretty and soft, but . . . regal.”

  “Of course.”

  I reached for my sister’s hand and nodded to the priestess before gently tightening my grip on her fingers. Annalea was still fairly young, but the stress from Mother’s death had turned her face thin. The effect left her looking much younger. Her chestnut locks were dull, her eyes lack-luster. Raul slid past her to stand beside Jyn, precisely mimicking my guard’s stance.

  “Really?” my sister asked, voice wavering.

  “Definitely. I wasn’t sure, and you should have an opinion too. Would you like to hear the prayers we’ve selected?”

  Annalea sniffed softly, inclining her head. Callithyia kindly went over each verse again. When she’d finished, tears streaked my sister’s cheeks. She wiped at them quietly before she said, “Thank you. Those are perfect, thank you.”

  Callithyia nodded and swept into a curtsy. She still had to attend the last rites, a series of small offerings and prayers that had to be made the night prior to burial. I turned to Annalea. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “No. Are you?”

  I paused. “No. I’m trying to focus on the horizon.”

  “Is that working?”

  “No,” I sighed. “Do you want some food?”

  “Maybe something small.”

  She followed me to the dining hall, her fingers still tightly wrapped around mine. I was surprised. Annalea wasn’t the affectionate type—another way she took after Mother—but I knew how she felt, losing the parent who mattered most. The loss carried in a new form of loneliness, and the worst kind. I tightened my hold on her hand.

  Chapter 21

  Sleep refused to claim me. Likely my dread over the funeral didn’t help. Tonight, the images were more vivid than the nights before. Every shadow made me jump, every groan from the trees outside the walls were someone stealing into the palace. I had sent Jyn to bed, but instead of resting, I tossed and turned for hours.

  I couldn’t take the stillness anymore. I lit the candle beside me and tried to read, to lose myself in the words that floated in front of me. There was safety in books, warmth and predictability in the character’s lives and worlds. I couldn’t find that tonight.

  With a sigh, I dropped the book onto my bed and lowered my feet to the floor. I debated going for a walk but blue eyes and the scent of hard liquor haunted my thoughts. Even with Camion’s lessons, I didn’t want to try my hand without Jyn if I didn’t have to.

  I fell into step and paced the floor as quietly as I could, my feet running over the soft rugs that lay under my bed and in front of the fireplace. I tried to step around the boards that I knew would creak or groan under my weight. My riding boots sat by one of the armchairs, and I picked a dress from my wardrobe to hang nearby. I polished the weighty silver tiara I was to wear and smoothed the lacy charcoal veil that would drape my face.

  Shortly after I had done all of this, Jyn’s door creaked open and he slipped through, a broad frown spread over his face. I paused where I sat, polishing my boots for the third time.

  “You should have woken me, Princess. How long have you been awake?” His voice was thick with sleep, the deep rich tone that only came out in the earliest of waking hours.

  I shrugged. “No sense in both of us losing sleep. I’m surprised I didn’
t wake you.”

  Jyn dropped onto the end of my bed and rubbed the haze from his eyes. I poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on my night table and offered the decanter to him. He drained the liquid before he said, “Me too. Did you sleep at all?” I shook my head. His shoulders drooped and he closed his eyes. “Would you sleep better if I stayed in here with you? If you’re determined to leave tonight, you have to sleep.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I didn’t tell him I had serious doubts that I would sleep, but I crawled into bed anyway and tugged the blankets up around my chin. Jyn slid up the bed to sit beside me and leaned back against the headboard. He closed his eyes again before he started to hum. The song was soft, hauntingly beautiful, and despite the odds, my eyelids started to feel heavy.

  ***

  I didn’t get to ask Jyn about the song in the morning. We sprang awake at Raye’s insistent knocks, and I’d raced into the bathing chamber. I tried to ignore the tugs of memory, the mental flashes that kept up their persistent attempts to remind me of the last time I’d prepared for an event like this.

  When I had dressed, I stepped in front of the mirror. I didn’t recognize myself. Raye had swept my hair back into a bun, with loose tendrils that fell and framed my cheeks. There were thin lines of kohl around my eyes and a soft pink gloss on my lips.

  “You look beautiful, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you. And, Natylia in private. Please,” I corrected gently.

  Raye dipped her head. “You look beautiful, Natylia.”

  My gown was long black chiffon held up by a matching whale-boned demi-corset. Instead of a traditional woolen cloak, Raye had give me one made of a sheer black material that flowed down around my feet, dusted lightly with shimmering diamond specks that glittered like stars in the night sky. The hood fell low enough over my face that the edges brushed the bridge of my nose, so I could discard the veil I’d chosen before. For the moment, the hood fell around my shoulders. I ran the silken ribbon that tied it between my shaking fingers.