by N M Zoltack
Vowing to see about helping her with that, Edmund hurried over to the hotel. It was just as rowdy and loud as ever. The drinks were flowing, most everyone was drunk, and the fight wasn’t even supposed to start for another two hours.
Edmund spied Tatum. She stood behind the bar with the other ladies, his view of her belly blocked by the counter she stood behind. The alchemist was working too hard to notice him, and he couldn’t quite make his way over. The place was too packed, and it most certainly was not the place for Tatum.
“Edmund!” Dudley wrapped his arm around his shoulders and shoved an ale into his hand. “Drink! On me!”
Dudley rushed off, talking to a pair of men. One walked off, motioning for one of the serving girls to follow him upstairs.
Feeling a bit uneasy about how the other man was eyeing the serving girls, Edmund forced his way closer to the pair.
“You owe me some money,” the man was saying.
“You’ll get it. After tonight. Before you leave. The fight—”
“There’s going to be a fight all right tonight if you don’t,” the man groused.
“You do not have to worry, my friend.”
“Tell you what. You know how you can knock off a bit of what you owe.”
Dudley hesitated. “Fine.” He turned toward the bar. “Tatum! Get over here!”
Edmund winced. He hated that he was talking to his wife in that tone.
Tatum handed out a few more drinks before making her way over. She grinned at her husband but then beamed at Edmund, or so Edmund wanted to believe, which only sickened the knight all the more. He hated himself for caring for her as deeply as he did.
“Tatum, honey,” Dudley said, hugging her with one arm. “This man is going to spend some time with you.”
“Time with me?” Tatum repeated dully. A hand dropped to her belly.
“Upstairs.”
Edmund’s jaw dropped. Dudley could not be serious.
Tatum nodded a few times despite her wide eyes, and then she began to laugh. “I almost believed you.”
“He wasn’t joking,” the man growled. He reached for Tatum.
Before Edmund could get close enough to react, Tatum did. She grabbed the mug from Edmund’s hand and smashed it on the man’s head.
The man growled and launched himself at her, but Tatum sidestepped, coming closer to Edmund instead of her husband, and the man whirled around, swinging. His fist connected with Dudley sloppily.
“Fight!” someone called out.
Edmund barely had time to register what was happening. Tatum was screaming. Everyone was. Worse, punches and kicks were flying. Dudley actually seemed to have the upper hand until Edmund spied a flash of silver that promptly winked out as the blade was embedded into Dudley's stomach.
The man backed away, eyed Edmund, and dropped the dagger. “He doesn’t owe me a coin.”
The man shoved his way out of the hotel, and Edmund dropped down to check on Dudley. His brother was breathing far too quickly, and then, he just stopped breathing altogether.
In a near panic, Edmund glanced up to stare at Tatum. She wasn't looking at her dead husband. She was staring at the bloodied knife, and then her gaze fixated on him.
69
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
The hot water from the bath did not help. A long rest did not help, not that she could actually sleep any. Food did not help either.
The crushing agony in Rosalynne’s head would not abate no matter what she did. Light only made things worse, and she was so very nauseous she thought she might be sick.
Despite this, she planned on moving ahead with allowing her people to petition her once she finally received word that the occupation of Rapid Falls had ended, but neither Ulric nor Edmund had come to see her, and Rosalynne’s health might very well be suffering as a result of her worries and aggravation.
A knock at her bedchamber door had her crossing over to the door. Her maid, who had been with her all day, had moved toward it, but Rosalynne would not appear weak if she could help it.
Which meant that she pinched her cheeks to give herself some color before she opened the door.
Sabine waltzed in. “Oh, this room is rather dark. Do you mind?” And the elder queen approached the windows and opened the curtains to allow in a flood of light.
Rosalynne flinched but did not complain. “Can I help you?”
"I had a most wonderful conversation earlier, a truly wondrous one. It's a shame I did not know where you were, or else you could have partaken in it, but…" Sabine shrugged. She crossed over to Rosalynne's vanity, her fingers brushing along it, but she did not speak more.
Rosalynne waited. Sabine wanted attention, and Rosalynne would not play that game. Not now with how poorly she was feeling, not ever.
“Ulric,” Sabine purred. “He’s such a strong man, isn’t he? I do think I will knight him. He deserves that, don’t you think? Who knows? I do not have many guards now. I need someone I can trust, and he is definitely one to trust, don’t you think?”
Irrational or not, a surge of jealousy washed over Rosalynne. "What did you two talk… You spoke with him today? What of Rapid Falls?"
"He and the others saved the town. No more vile Vincanans there. Isn't that wonderful? Just wonderful."
“Yes,” Rosalynne said softly. Why had Ulric spoken with Sabine and not her?
“If the Vincanans cannot hold even a small town like Rapid Falls, how can they possibly think that they can hold all of Tenoch? This war should be over and now, and I think that maybe Ulric can wait to be my guard until after the war. Once the dust all settles.”
“There are the dragons—”
“The dragons. Bah.” Sabine waved her hand as she sat at Rosalynne’s vanity. She even gazed at herself in the mirror, brushing back her blond hair from her face. “I do wonder how the war will end,” Sabine continued. “Will the Vincanans retreat to their continent? Should we set Vincana ablaze to teach them a lesson?”
“Of course not!” Rosalynne sputtered. Her head ached even worse for her outburst.
“Or maybe once the Vincanans realize they have lost, they will reconsider, and Marcellus will come crawling back to the castle with a proposal on his lips. He’ll wish to marry me, of course. I am the ruling queen of Tenoch, after all.”
“You do not deserve to have that crown on your head,” Rosalynne fumed.
“Is that so? Because the subjects of Tenoch bow as easily for me as they do you. They appreciate all I have done for them—”
“You raised the taxes.”
“I found and executed the one who murdered your brother.”
“For all I know, you helped.”
“I did not.”
“But maybe you were there. Maybe you allowed it to happen—”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You have no proof.”
“The alchemy—”
“Must we go over this again?” Sabine clasped her hands together and dropped them to her lap. “I’ve done everything for Tenoch—”
“You killed the king. You killed your husband.”
“Again, maybe. Maybe not.”
“How can you live with yourself?” Rosalynne asked.
“Quite easily, actually.”
“You are just like your mother,” Rosalynne snapped. Somehow, her anger was helping her to recover from whatever had caused her head to ache so terribly.
“At least my mother raised me.”
Rosalynne crossed over to Sabine, her hand raised. Without thinking, she went to strike the other woman, but Sabine caught her wrist.
“I will be Queen of Tenoch Proper,” Sabine said, standing, crushing Rosalynne’s wrist. “I will marry Marcellus or maybe Ulric? Is that what you think about? Or do you fancy that knight Edmund? Your head is turned about so much that you do not know up from down. You may have been groomed to be queen, supposedly, but your father taught you nothing, didn’t he? He was lazy. He ruled lazy, and so do you. You are just like him, and his laziness c
ost him his life. All he did was eat, eat and mourn the dead. He loved a ghost, not his children. How did that feel?”
“Your mother did not love you.” Rosalynne yanked her hand free.
“That is all you can say?” Sabine laughed. “How goes your harpoons, by the way?”
“If you are working on potions…”
“If I am, then what? You will have me arrested? If the people learn I am seeking to help protect them against the dragons and you arrest me for it, they will turn against you.”
“You think you have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Rosalynne cried.
“No, my dear.” Sabine gripped her chin forcefully and then released it. “I don’t think I have an answer for everything. I do have an answer. You can have your silly crushes on the men you can never have, but then, what does it matter? Once the war is over, Tenoch will need one queen, and that queen is me.”
The pain returned to debilitating levels as Sabine’s heels clacked against the stone floor. The other queen slammed the door shut behind her, and Rosalynne stumbled, nearly falling down from the agony. Her maid helped her to the bed, and Rosalynne smiled wanly. Whatever this was, she would get through it, and she would become stronger for it. If she had to fight her own body as well as Sabine, Marcellus, the dragons, and whoever else, so be it. She would fight until her dying breath.
She was a Rivera, and Riveras did not go down without a fight.
70
Rase Ainsley
The moment Rase returned to the house, fear almost overwhelmed him, but Leanne was there. She was sewing, but once she spied him, she dropped her needlepoint, rushing over to him. She did not pepper him with questions but helped to wash his wounds and rebandaged them far better than he had been able to struggle and do earlier.
Once that was done, he sat with her on the settee. “Leanne…”
“Yes?”
“We need to pack. We have to leave.”
Leanne nodded, but she did not stop her work, having returned to her needlepoint.
“Leanne?”
“I heard you,” she said calmly.
For a moment, he just sat there, watching her do one stitch and then another and another. Nice, even, tight, it looked good to him, but then she ripped out a stitch and redid it. His eyes were growing cross.
For so long, Leanne had been the creature of fear, afraid of her own shadow, or so it seemed, but now, she was the strong one. How had that happened? But she had patience, clearly, and he did not like this feeling growing inside of him, this worry, this doubt, this self-loathing. He refused to feel fear.
“Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to,” Leanne said suddenly.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked suspiciously.
“Trust me,” she said. “We have each other.”
“We used to have our parents too,” he grumbled.
Leanne lowered her needlepoint. “I miss them. I do, but Ma, Pa… they made mistakes. We won’t.”
“I already have.”
“Then stop making them.” Leanne laughed. “And you have. Those men you brought over. Honestly, did you meet any of them before you suggested them to me?”
“No, but—”
“No! Of course you didn’t. They were all horrid.”
“They could have taken care of you.”
“Or maybe I can take care of myself.”
“Leanne…”
“I know you think I can’t, that I’m just a silly girl, but I’m older than you are, Rase. I can handle myself. I know how to now.”
“You know how to now,” he repeated. “What do you mean by that?”
“The dragons,” she said simply, as if that answered every question in the universe.
“What about them?” he asked, trying not to sound incredulous.
“Oh, it’s quite simple,” she said. “They’re a sign of hope.”
He just shook his head. He truly didn’t understand why she was clinging to the dragons so much, but this hope of hers? That he was truly envious of.
“If we have to leave this house, that’s fine,” Leanne continued. “I don’t mind. This house… it never really felt like home to me.”
“Do not tell me you miss that shack,” Rase grumbled.
“No, no, of course not! And I did like this house. Don’t get me wrong. I just… It’s not exactly us, is it?”
“What is us? Another shack? How about we find a cave. Maybe that would feel more like home. Honestly, we might have to do exactly that. I… We don’t have any money again, Leanne. I lost it. All of it. I don’t… I don’t think I can get back what I had before, and I don’t know if I can sell this place, and we have to… We have to move.”
“You want us to hide away.”
He gaped at her. When had she become so perceptive? How had she gone from being hardly able to talk and running away all of the time and being traumatized to being almost smarter than she had been before she’d suffered so very much?
Maybe it was the potion Tatum had given him to give to her. Maybe it had worked after all, and it had just needed more time to work, like the alchemist said.
The alchemist… Maybe he could work for her. Or Leanne could. Or Leanne had some skill with needlepoint clearly. If she could work at a modist shop…
Maybe they could get back on their feet again. Working for Tatum would require living in Atlan still, but there were places where they could maybe relocate to without anyone knowing, and if he were to cut his hair, maybe dye it a different color, it was possible he could change his name. Start over. A new life. They could do it right this time. No stealing. No cashing in on secrets. Nothing to do with men who sought their own pockets above all else.
Maybe they could start fresh. This could work. Yes, it really could.
“What do you want?” he asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you want more than anything in the world?”
“Oh, that’s easy, Rase.”
He waited, expecting her to say a home, a hot meal, to never be hungry again, a dress, a husband, something like that.
Her answer shocked him.
“I want to see you smile, Rase.”
“You want me to what?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“I want you to smile.”
He smiled.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “A real one. I want you to be happy.”
“Is that all you want?” he asked suspiciously.
She nodded.
Rase smiled then. “That’s all I want.”
“For you to be happy?” Leanne reached over and embraced him.
“No, you Looney Leanne. I want you to be happy.”
“You swore you would never call me that again!” She playfully slapped him.
Rase laughed, and he smiled again, another genuine one. If the dragons gave her hope, maybe he could find some hope too.
71
Prince Marcellus Gallus
The prince could hardly sleep. He was still disgruntled and dismayed over the events that had transpired at Rapid Falls. How had they lost the village so easily? But Flavius had been seriously injured, a fact that was now well known to all. Sometimes during a battle, one could fight as if uninjured, but the moment the battle was over, they could fall over, and some might even die from the extent of their injuries. Flavius was stronger and hardier than most, but even he was only human.
As dawn approached, however, Marcellus’s thoughts turned to what Valeria Bellius had said.
“You must find a way to seek peace with those from Tenoch.”
He eyed those injured from Rapid Falls and was pleased to see that Paulus Falto was not among them. Once he spied the brown-haired young man, Marcellus waved him over.
“Are you still the fastest runner?” Marcellus asked.
“I might be pigeon-toed, but I’m swifter than most,” Paulus bragged.
“If you wish for a horse, I will lend you one. I have a mission for you, if y
ou will accept it.”
“Of course,” Paulus said automatically.
“You do not even know what it is that I ask of you.”
“You’re my prince. You only have to tell me what to do, and I will do it.”
While Marcellus appreciated the loyalty, he still grimaced. “You can decide for yourself if you will or not.”
“What is it you need of me?”
“I need a spy to go to Atlan Castle. I wish to have a meeting arranged—a secret meeting—with Vivian.”
“Vivian Rivera?” Paulus asked.
Marcellus nodded. She was the only one he could think of who might be willing to speak with him reasonably, although he would not be surprised if she refused to now, though, because she had attempted for peace before, but he had been unwilling to.
“How will I know who she is?” Paulus asked.
“She is the princess. Dark hair, dark blue eyes…” Marcellus was at a loss for words. “She is strong, capable. A fighter. Like our ladies.”
Paulus nodded slowly. “I will go and return, maybe with her.”
“Thank you.”
And the spy rushed off.
The Vast Waters should have a calming effect on Marcellus, but they did not. He felt anxious, worried, pulled in various directions. Without a doubt, his father would be disappointed in him and his lack of progress, but what would his father have him do? What would his father have done differently?
As Marcellus waited for Paulus to return, the Vincanans healed. Some had been handed seeds from the villagers before they had left Rapid Falls, but the beach was no place to grow crops, and having a garden meant being tethered to one spot, something they could ill afford to do why they were at war.
Almost two days after he departed, Paulus returned, alone.
Marcellus scowled, hurrying over to the messenger. “She refused.”