The Deceiver's Heart

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The Deceiver's Heart Page 3

by Jennifer A. Nielsen


  Only then did I really get my first look at the people who had come. They whispered to one another while smiling at me and nodding in approval. Everyone appeared just as they ought to at a pre-wedding party.

  Except for one guard at the back of the room. The visor of his helmet was pushed low and his head was down, so I couldn’t see his face, but that wasn’t necessary. Both hands were balled into fists and one was pounding against his thigh. He was angry. As soon as I had the chance, I’d speak to my father about removing him.

  With Basil a sudden fixture at my side, we began circling the room, greeting the guests and receiving their good wishes. I smiled at each of them, said the things it felt like I ought to say, and snuggled against Basil whenever he gave my side a squeeze.

  But I couldn’t get my mind off the guard in the back of the room. From different positions, I caught different parts of his face. The angle of his jaw, set forward. His lips pressed together in a tight frown. I even saw the corner of his eye, only for a brief second, but long enough to know he was glaring at me.

  At me? Why should he be focused on me? The weight of his half-hidden eyes upon me was tangible, and becoming heavier each minute, but I didn’t want to disrupt the party by having him hauled out. We only had a few minutes until the wedding began anyway.

  Indeed, as soon as we finished greeting the last of the guests, the herald said, “Loyalists of the Dominion, a wedding tent has been set up in the ward, on the north end of the property. Our betrothed couple will take their places.”

  “Come with me, my love.” Basil took my hand and led me from the ballroom into the gardens. “Are you cold?”

  A chill breeze was in the air, sweeping through the layers of my dress. My father had taught me that strength made one resistant to temperature. I didn’t see how that could possibly be true, but it compelled me to shake my head now.

  This area of the gardens had few lights tonight, most of the clearstones of Woodcourt being used to light the path the guests were taking toward the wedding arch. I suspected the dark evening worked in Basil’s favor. A mischievous, romantic look gleamed in his eyes.

  We stopped in a corner of the gardens, tall hedges behind us and thick bushes in front of us. For a moment, I thought I saw a shadow there, but then a sharper gust of wind caused the bushes to flutter in the wind. It was nothing, only my nerves.

  Basil pulled me to him, holding me close around my waist. He studied my face a moment before asking, “Kestra, do you want to marry me?”

  “Of course.” What else was I supposed to say, given that our wedding was minutes away? I could hardly tell him that my heart was pounding in my throat and that I’d already considered three escape routes from these gardens.

  “If this night goes differently than you expect, will you trust that it’s for your own good?”

  What an odd question. I grinned. “Is this a surprise, or a problem?”

  “Not a problem, just … a change of plans.”

  He continued staring at me, his hands sliding to my shoulders. I lifted my face and accepted his kiss. He clearly had strong feelings for me, and I wondered how it was that I had no strong feelings about anything at all, and certainly not for him.

  Something was definitely wrong with me. But if I couldn’t explain that to myself, how could I ever make him understand?

  So I kissed him back, with more passion than I felt. I doubted I could pretend my way through an entire marriage, but I could at least manage the next hour until we were wed.

  Basil returned for a second kiss, but we were interrupted by a cough, and then the words “Sir Basil, a message has come for you from Reddengrad. The rider is out front.”

  It was the guard who had been angry in the ballroom, and though his visor was still low, his emotions were obviously no calmer now. Basil barely looked at him to say, “The rider will have to wait.”

  But the guard stepped forward. “He says it is urgent, from your father. It involves a promise you made regarding this wedding.”

  Basil’s eyes widened and he released my hand like it stung him. “Forgive me, Kestra, but I must meet him.”

  “I’ll go with you,” I offered.

  “No!” His tone had changed. A sort of panic was inside Basil now, though I couldn’t understand why. What promise had he made regarding our wedding?

  Basil gestured to the guard. “Will you wait here with the lady until I return? It won’t be more than a few minutes, I’m sure.”

  “No—” Before I could finish protesting, Basil had hurried away.

  Leaving me with this guard. He immediately removed his helmet, and now I had a full view of his face. He was handsome enough, with hair as dark as mine but close-cropped and untidy, and an expression in his brown eyes so intense I could barely look away. New emotions seemed to rise above his anger as he studied me. What was it? Expectation? Hope?

  Hope for what?

  If he thought I should say something, he’d be disappointed. I turned away, with more interest in the nearby geraniums than in him.

  After a few seconds of silence, his head tilted. “Do you know me, Kes?”

  “Should I?”

  He blinked hard, then tried again. “Do you know me?”

  I put ice in my stare back at him, unwilling to repeat myself.

  He mumbled something under his breath, then said, “I’m the change of plans your beloved Basil mentioned.”

  “He’s not my beloved.” The guard arched an eyebrow, and I quickly added, “He’s my most beloved. Obviously.” Then, “What’s the change of plans?”

  “You’re to come with me.” When I hesitated, he added, “It’s all right, your … most beloved knows.”

  I waved him away. “Leave, or I’ll report you.”

  But he stepped closer. “My lady, I’m here as your protector. Please trust me.”

  I shook my head. “I saw you in the ballroom before. Why were you angry?” Not that it mattered, but I was stalling now, hoping Basil would hurry back.

  He offered me his hand, clearly eager to hurry us both away from the gardens. “My anger is only for those who would harm you.”

  But I wouldn’t take his hand. I wouldn’t go anywhere with this boy.

  “Kestra?” That was Basil’s voice.

  I started to call out, but the guard grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. Basil rounded the corner and froze as soon as he saw the guard, mumbling, “Simon?” He knew this boy? Basil raised his hands, showing he was no threat. “You’re early. The wedding is only a few minutes away.”

  Simon hesitated, only for a moment, but I noticed. “She must leave now.”

  My jaw clenched. “He’s telling me the truth?”

  Basil reached out for me, as if a pat on the arm would make everything better. “Go with him, my love. I’ll find you again soon.”

  “You won’t,” Simon countered.

  Now Basil hesitated. “Simon, are you working with the Coracks or not?”

  “The Coracks?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Basil had made plans with the group rebelling against my family? I tried to tug my arm away, but Simon tightened his grip and with his other hand pulled out a knife.

  Basil shook his head at Simon as we left. “You’re in over your head.”

  This rebel had a knife, and he had me. So I was fairly sure that of the three of us, I was the one most in over my head. But as Simon began leading me from the gardens, Basil called, “I’ll see you soon, my love!”

  Simon scowled and pushed me to walk faster, taking us on a route that an outsider to Woodcourt should not have known. There must be an explanation for that.

  Just outside a small gate was a sturdy horse with an old leather satchel tied to the saddle. My heart lurched into my throat.

  “I need a carriage. I don’t ride on the backs of animals”—I caught Simon’s eye—“or with animals.”

  He peeled off his guard’s uniform, revealing civilian clothes with tears in the fabric and frayed seams. If he had
two coins to his name, I’d be shocked.

  He faced me once more. “Kes, we’re alone now. Do you know who I am?”

  “I know that you’re a fool to have done this.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said, his voice as cold as the night air. “Now get on the horse or I’ll drag you behind it.”

  “You’re no protector.” I reached for the horse’s reins. “Not if you speak to me as an enemy.”

  He clicked his tongue, irritated. “My lady, right now, I am the only friend you’ve got.” With that, he swung into the saddle behind me, wrapped his filthy arms on either side of me, and rode us into the dark night.

  Rode me away from the only home I’d ever known, into an outside world I barely knew. Whatever this boy’s intentions, wherever we were going, I’d never been so terrified in my life.

  Fifteen minutes had passed since we left Woodcourt, and my mind was still trying to sort out what had happened.

  Basil had referenced that I was early for the plan. Was that the same plan Trina and Gabe had tried to tell me about? Were they working together now? How was such a thing possible?

  More concerning still was that Kestra did not seem to know me. This was obviously the work of Lord Endrick, though I didn’t yet know the extent of the damage he’d caused within her mind, her memories. I only knew that he’d separated me from anything she did remember and taken with it emotions that I thought had run as deeply within her as they did me.

  Erasing them.

  Erasing me.

  The way she’d kissed Basil back there, or allowed him to kiss her, had ripped me up. And I wasn’t sure how long I was supposed to pretend that I was only her indifferent protector, a nameless part of some Corack plan. I didn’t even know how to pretend such a thing, not when every instinct within me was to close my arms around her and tell her how I truly felt. Whatever Endrick had done to her mind, he had done far worse to my heart.

  “Can you loosen your arm around my waist?” Kestra asked. “I’d like to breathe.”

  “If you can speak, you can breathe.”

  She scoffed, then asked, “Your name is Simon?”

  “Simon Hatch. We’ve met before.”

  We’d met before. We’d fought before. We’d embraced each other, shared moments together where there was no one in the world but us. I remembered every detail of every kiss, every brush of her hand over mine, the softness of her cheek against my palm.

  And yet she looked at me as if I were a stranger. Or worse, as if I were an enemy.

  Slowing the horse to a canter, I said, “I need you to raise the skirt on your right thigh.”

  She twisted around, eyes blazing. “I will not!”

  “Do it, or I’ll search you. I know exactly how you’d feel about that, so I suggest you do as I ask.”

  She huffed, then raised the skirt, very briefly, but enough for me to verify there was no garter, no weapon. Then, without me having to ask, she did the same for her left thigh, with the same results. I wished I had found a knife on her. It would have been some glimmer of the Kestra I’d known, the one always ready for a fight. But it also brought up another question of far greater significance.

  Where was the Olden Blade?

  “If it’s a ransom you want, my father will pay what you ask,” she said, cutting into my thoughts.

  “I don’t want a ransom.” Yet I did note that these words were almost the very opposite of what she had told me the last time we were in this situation.

  “Then you must think you’re saving me from something,” she continued. “What is it?” When I didn’t answer, she added, “Maybe from the luxuries of being a Dallisor? Or the protection that comes from serving Lord Endrick? Maybe a lifetime of happiness with Basil? Is that what you’re saving me from, Simon?”

  I bit my tongue to keep from saying the truth. She couldn’t possibly believe the things she was saying, unless … unless she did. Unless Endrick had done more than erase certain memories from her. What if he had replaced them with a belief that her happiness began and ended with obedience to him?

  And if she truly believed that, how was I ever to convince her otherwise? To tell her that she had no Dallisor blood, but instead was half Endrean, just like Lord Endrick, and half Halderian, the enemy clan to the Dallisors. I’d never convince her that Lord Endrick had planned this marriage upon Basil’s promise to kill her on their wedding night. The lifetime of happiness she anticipated wasn’t even supposed to last until midnight.

  Kestra spent the next half hour of our ride warning me that Lord Endrick’s armies would already be on our trail, that his oropods would eat me alive, and that if I happened to survive, I would be hung where the crows could make mincemeat of my body. Eventually, I stopped listening.

  Despite her threats, I breathed easier once we passed the Sentries, the two enormous statues outside Highwyn, one that greeted visitors to the capital and the other that offered a farewell. From there, I planned to turn us east and stick to the coastline as much as possible. This route would offer us plenty of caves in which to hide until I figured out a way to restore her memories.

  If there was a way. I might sooner darken the sun than break through Lord Endrick’s magic.

  We were still within easy sight of the Sentries when I spotted our first sign of trouble, though it wasn’t what I’d expected.

  Captain Tenger was seated on horseback beside a girl I didn’t recognize. Her naturally red lips, skin a shade darker than mine, and nearly translucent white hair immediately gave away her origins. She was from Brill, the neighboring country to the east. Brillians generally kept to themselves and rarely left their own borders. The exception to that rule was directly in front of me with a disk bow ready to fire and a lever blade at her side. Beside her, Tenger looked furious.

  Good, because I was more than angry with him.

  I halted my horse, then tightened my arms around Kestra. Her breaths had become shallow, as if she was trying to figure out whether Tenger was rescuing her or whether he was the real threat.

  I knew the answer. He was a very real threat, absolutely, to both of us.

  “How’d you know I’d be on this road?” I asked.

  “We’ve got people stationed on every road out of Highwyn.” Tenger’s voice was usually stern, but that barely described the chill in his tone now. “You were told not to interfere tonight.”

  “Yes, but I don’t take orders from you anymore,” I countered.

  Kestra leaned forward. “Please, sir, if you are a man of honor, you will return me to my father.”

  Tenger smiled and slid off his horse. He walked over to Kestra and took her hand. “My sweet young lady, I am Captain Grey Tenger, commander of the Corack rebellion. I offer my deepest apologies for all you must have suffered tonight. If you’ll come with me, we’ll make everything right.”

  She started to leave, but my hand tightened again around her waist. “He’s no friend to you,” I warned.

  “And you are?” She punctuated her question with an elbow to my gut. “You threatened to drag me behind your horse!”

  Tenger chuckled, and this time it was genuine. “That’s the Simon I remember! Come back to the Coracks, give me your oath. I need you.”

  I shook my head, refusing to look directly at him. Instead, I kept my focus on the Brillian girl’s disk bow still aimed at my chest.

  “If you won’t join us, then we have a problem,” Tenger continued. “Obviously I can’t allow you to leave with Lady Dallisor. If you refuse to give her up, then I’ll have to kill you here.” His eyes darkened. “And I will, Simon. You know that I will.”

  I did know that. Nor could I start any fight with Tenger right now. Even if I dodged a disk, which was doubtful, I wouldn’t risk Kestra getting hit.

  Through gritted teeth, I said, “If you truly believe I’ve abandoned the mission, then you’ll never accept my oath.”

  “I’ll never trust you again as I did before, that’s true.” Tenger brushed his hand over his
close-cut beard. “You’ll pay an extra price for leaving us the first time.” His eyes dropped to my sword.

  “No.” My sword was not negotiable.

  “Very well.” Tenger raised two fingers, ready to signal to the girl beside him. “This is Wynnow, a recent volunteer. As she is a Brillian, you can be sure that her aim is excellent. But will she have to hit Kestra to get you?”

  I kept my arm tight around Kestra. Not to make her a target, but because I knew how much more danger she’d be in with Tenger.

  Tenger had already tried to kill Kestra once, before she was declared the Infidante. Now that she was, he had promised to support her, but I knew he’d still rather see Trina in that role. I suspected the only reason he hadn’t yet ordered Wynnow to shoot us was because no one knew what had happened to the Olden Blade. Possibly even Kestra didn’t know.

  “Make your choice,” Tenger said. “Enough stalling!” Wynnow raised her bow. All she needed was the order to fire.

  “Take my sword, and accept my oath.” I hated speaking the words, but there was no other choice. “I’ll return to the Coracks and follow your orders, like before. But Kestra stays with me.”

  Tenger held out his hand for my sword, and I gave it to him. I still had my knife, but the sword had a far greater significance. I wondered if Tenger knew that.

  “If you are following my orders, then this is your first test,” Tenger said. “Let Kestra go. She’ll ride with someone else, someone she won’t try to escape from.”

  My spine stiffened. “You? Because if she—”

  “Not me.” The sound of approaching horses caught my attention, and seconds later, Gabe and Trina rounded the bend in the road. Most unexpectedly, Basil was with them.

  Behind me, Kestra let out a gasp of relief. I wanted to hurl my knife in Basil’s direction and hope the sharp end hit him first. Tenger would probably consider that a violation of my oath. I really didn’t care.

 

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