The Fiery Crown

by Jeffe Kennedy

  He laughed, a harsh bark without music or humor. “Now you sound like the wizard. Tell me the truth, Lia. Remember? No lies.”

  Ugh. That agreement had been easier when I’d been thinking of it in terms of how to dance around the secrets I needed to keep, rather than my own feelings. You’re not entitled to personal emotions, my father’s voice whispered. Everything You feel is about the throne.

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” I replied coolly. “I’m pleased to accommodate you in this, if only in this.” I arched my brows to make a joke of it, but he didn’t bite.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said echoing my accent and phrasing with uncanny mimicry. He leaned forward. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you, Lia, how it feels when we’re together?”

  It did, and I didn’t want it to. It unsettled me deeply that I’d unraveled in his embrace so far that my eyes had reverted to their natural state. I’d missed him the night before with such a physical ache that I’d nearly gone back on my resolve—and I never do that. It also made me terribly uncomfortable that we’d somehow ended up in this particular conversation. I glanced behind me to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

  “Just us,” Con said, somewhat grimly, when I turned back. “And no easy escape.”

  I gave him a hard look for that one. He’d deliberately pinned me with this conversation when he knew I’d normally endeavor to brush him off. Sighing, I gazed off over his shoulder. The branches of the trees formed a lacy arch above us, making a tunnel of green, the wood as artistically twisted as if carved that way. Orchids trailed their way all along the trunks and branches, blooming in the cooler shadows, dependent on the strength of those trees, unable to survive on their own. “I didn’t marry you to indulge my feelings. I did it for Calanthe.”

  “The only thing that matters to you,” he filled in.

  “Yes.” I met his gaze unflinchingly. “As your vengeance is the only thing that matters to you.”

  “True enough.” The wolf stared back at me. “You’re still ducking the question.”

  “I enjoy sex with you,” I replied evenly, “but I think it would be unwise to allow Myself to become emotionally involved with you.” There. That amounted to ripping my heart out and throwing it as his feet, didn’t it?

  “Because you don’t trust me.”

  “Conrí.” I said his name with considerable exasperation. “We both just agreed that for each of us, our highest priorities could well be in conflict at some point in time.”

  “Is that what we agreed? I don’t follow you.”

  “Oh, don’t play the dumb oaf. I know better. If your vengeance requires sacrificing Calanthe, you’d do it in a heartbeat. I know you well enough to see you think that’s a likely outcome of this battle you plan at Cradysica.”

  He didn’t deny that, only watched me, expression stern. “And you’d deprive me of my vengeance, you’d sacrifice your own life and happiness, if it meant protecting Calanthe.”

  “In a heartbeat,” I replied crisply. “I tried once already and nearly succeeded. Then I failed. I’m now on My backup plan.”

  “What all is entailed in your backup plan?” he asked, almost conversationally, for him, anyway.

  “At the moment? You’ve successfully convinced Me that if we have a slim chance of winning, it’s because of what you plan. That, at least this far, our objectives align. I’m waiting to see if that continues to be true.”

  “And if you come to believe our objectives don’t align?”

  I didn’t allow myself to hesitate. “I’ll do what I have to in order to protect Calanthe.”

  “Even if it means going against me, your husband and lover.”

  “Yes.”

  “So cold.”

  “Yes,” I said again. And I felt cold inside. Better that, though, than the melting need for him that steadily grew in me.

  To my surprise, he actually smiled. “You fascinate me, Lia. That’s saying something, since not much has occupied my thoughts except destroying Anure.”

  For Con, that amounted to an impassioned declaration of affection of his own. What a pair we were.

  I allowed myself to unbend enough to reply. “I find you compelling also, Con. Which is saying something as I’ve always known I only cared about Calanthe.”

  “I have an idea.” His smile faded and he regarded me with smoldering intensity. “Perhaps we could each agree to giving the other second place.”

  My lonely heart tripped like I was that ninny I’d told Dearsley I wasn’t. Because I couldn’t entirely disguise that reaction, I did the next best thing and used it. Fluttering my elaborate lashes and pursing my lips into a bow—an expression the jewels perfectly accommodated—I blew him a kiss. “Why, Conrí, what a saucy offer. I don’t know what to say.”

  He gave me an impatient scowl, not at all amused. “It’s a sincere suggestion, Lia. We’re married. I’m trying to tell you that means something where I come from. It means something to me.”

  I sobered. “Good Ejarat, you’re serious.”

  “Of course I am. We already made the vows. We shouldn’t even need to have this conversation.”

  “What about your loyalty to your friends?”

  He cocked his head frowning. “You’re my wife. That makes you the most important person in my life.”

  Such a strange perspective he came from—but my foolish, surprisingly idealistic heart wanted that, leaping at the idea of mattering to him. And if we only had a few days left to live … well, I could hardly refuse the offer. “All right, I can agree to being second place only to your need for vengeance.”

  He nodded. “Can you say the same—or do you need to think about it?”

  I laughed, hearing the bitter edge in it. “Oh, Con, there’s nothing for Me to think about. I have no one else in My life. You have second place by default, and all the places below, as well.”

  An odd look crossed his face, and I thought I glimpsed pity in his eyes. Fortunately I also sensed people ahead. “Look sharp, Conrí. A new village of admirers awaits their first sight of you.”

  “Oh joy,” he commented wryly.

  11

  We didn’t get to talk much after that, as there always seemed to be people lining the road, crowding onto rooftops—even hanging from the trees, like more of Lia’s exotic orchids. I tried to wave now and again, especially when Lia gave me a pointed stare and I realized I’d sunk into my thoughts again. So many questions she hadn’t answered fully. Though even if we had a lifetime together—not likely, the way things looked—I’d probably never fully understand her.

  At least trying to be nice to the crowds gave me something to focus on, so I didn’t fall into staring at Lia’s temptingly displayed figure—and imagining the parts that didn’t show. Did other men’s wives do that teasing shit, like lifting their dress and showing them all the naked bits beneath? I doubted it, because I was sure I’d have heard guys brag about it. Lia wasn’t quite naked under there—she’d had on some kind of pink ribbons holding up her stockings and a scrap of lacy silk that showed off her sex instead of hiding it—and she’d been clearly as aroused as I was.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about that vision, or about having her. Probably one of the crafty little games she played to amuse herself. Teasing me seemed to be her new favorite pastime, and she no doubt enjoyed making me stew in my thwarted desires the whole way. To pass the time, I plotted a bit of retaliation of my own. I’d already gone over and over in my head what I needed to see at Cradysica, in what order—and it would have to wait for morning light, regardless. We’d have time tonight and I didn’t intend to waste another with her.

  Calanthe was big as islands went, but that wasn’t saying a lot, so we arrived at the “village” just before sunset. More like a city. As I’d figured from the depiction on the map, the settlement was quite a bit bigger than Lia had made it out to be. A temple crowned the hill—its dome reflecting the light with near-blinding gold that had to be real—a narrow road winding up to it.
Little houses bordered most of the road, except at the last third or so, which looked too steep for building on. Mostly moss-covered rock up there, by the look of the terrain where we came in along the coastal road. From the lower two-thirds down, the village spread out along a hilly ravine, then cupped the harbor below.

  Squinting against the angled light of the setting sun, I saw no rocks or reefs, only deceptively calm water between two arms of the island, the high and narrow ridges spurring out into the water above and below this reach of coast.

  Perfect.

  “Is this the only road in and out?” I asked Lia, just to be sure, though I’d seen that on the map.

  “Yes.” She raised a brow at me. “Planning your escape already?”

  Sondra, who’d ridden up beside us now that the road allowed for it, made a snorting sound. “We plan for all possibilities, Your Highness. You’ve clearly never had to think about exit strategies.”

  “No, indeed.” Lia made a show of yawning into her pink, sparkly nails, demonstrating a boredom I knew she didn’t feel. “That’s why I married this one.” She flicked a careless gesture at me. “My father taught Me early on to delegate mundane tasks to others.”

  “To your inferiors, you mean?” Sondra’s anger flared as she took Lia’s bait, swallowed it whole, and fought the line. I shook my head. Sondra still underestimated Lia. She looked at the Queen of Flowers and saw a younger woman, of similar station—but who hadn’t been tested by the same fires of hell—and made the critical mistake of thinking Lia wasn’t a warrior, too. Sondra never even saw the blade coming. “Conrí exceeds you in every way. Your Highness.”

  Lia had turned her lazy gaze onto me, making a show of assessing me with a dubious quirk of one elegant brow. “Yes, but thickness of skull only counts for so much. Now, there is the matter of his masculine endow—”

  “Sondra,” I interrupted. “Why don’t you go see if General Kara has sent any messages ahead?”

  She flashed me a wounded look. “Conrí, I—”

  “That’s an order.”

  Pressing her lips into a hard line and leveling a glare worthy of a fistful of daggers at Lia, she galloped off. “Protecting your lieutenant from Me?” Lia asked, greatly amused.

  “The bite you had of her was enough—I didn’t want you to spoil your supper.”

  She laughed, a real one that made her eyes sparkle. “The Lady Sondra has a point that your wit is unexpected.”

  “Sondra is also making a potentially fatal error by falling for your tricks. She doesn’t understand who you are.”

  “And you do?”

  “I’m getting there.” I paused, thinking how to ask it. Then decided there was no good way. “I’m wondering if you would make an effort to befriend her, as a favor to me.”

  Lia made an O of her mouth that didn’t quite conceal her very real surprise. Yeah, I was getting better at reading her. The exaggerated expressions showed how she truly felt, but stretched to the point of comedy so the observer would think she was being sarcastic. The one that bore watching was the perfectly calm face she could put on like a blank mask. Then she had complete control, her poisonous thorns at the ready.

  “Are you claiming I’ve been unkind to the Lady Sondra?” she asked archly, a hint of that venom beneath.

  “No, you’ve been nicer than I’d have expected. Giving her a place at court, clothes that makes her happy, introducing her to like minds. I’m saying Sondra could … use a friend.”

  “I believe she’s become friends with the Lady Brenda. Perhaps lovers.”

  I shook my head sharply enough to have Lia raising a brow at the abruptness. “That won’t happen. The lovers thing. Friends maybe, but … Sondra could use someone with your insight. You understand how people tick. She needs that.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Lia replied after a significant pause. “I think I’m flattered by your good opinion.”

  “Not flattery. I know something about people, too. You could help Sondra.”

  “And why would I bother?” She drawled the question, lazy and bored queen again.

  “Because I’m asking it.”

  “Hmm.” The look she gave me wasn’t persuaded.

  “You never gave me a wedding gift.”

  “And here I thought I gave you an island paradise and a free pass to fuck the most beautiful woman in the known world,” she shot back.

  I laughed and, though her disdainful expression didn’t alter, her eyes sparkled with that wicked humor. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Save your gratitude. I may not grant your petition,” she replied airily.

  “True.” I grinned at her, thinking of what I planned to do to her. Soon, very soon. “But you’ll do it, for me.”

  She sniffed. “Maybe.”

  “You will,” I insisted. “Because you can’t resist my masculine endowments.”

  Rolling her eyes, she managed not to smile. “Such arrogance.”

  “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  We pulled up in the circular drive of the leading family’s “bungalow” not long after that. It was, of course, a palace by most standards, with a cheering crowd of people turned out to receive their queen. Anure likely had no idea how much Lia’s people loved her. I doubted Anure could get to her, all things being equal, which of course they weren’t. Anure always had the advantage, Lia was right about that much. And Lia’s people could only protect her if she let them die for her, which she wouldn’t. She didn’t know it, but that’s why she had me.

  She might worry about blood shed in violence, but I’d seen so much of that it barely registered anymore. Lia needed me to be ruthless where she couldn’t be. If I could extract Lia from this doomed enterprise without destroying her, I would. Calanthe and its people were another matter—and not my responsibility.

  The head family of Cradysica greeted us lavishly—including me in their rituals, offering the intricately woven wreaths of flowers, as Lia’s people had done when I’d first landed with Sondra and Ambrose—and this time I accepted them, though I felt like an idiot. I was doing my best to be a decent consort for Lia. If that meant being draped in flowers, fine. The sideways speculative glances she slid me provided some reward. She wasn’t sure what I was up to, which I figured worked to my benefit.

  If I kept her guessing, she couldn’t outmaneuver me. Not as easily, anyway.

  Ambrose and Merle were received with delight, especially when Merle apparently laid an egg in the hands of one of the leading family’s daughters, which then hatched into a small fluffy birdling. He repeated the trick for each child present. Lia kept a polite smile pasted to her perfectly painted lips, but the glimmer in her eye revealed her disapproval. She worried about Ambrose being noticed.

  That discussion about Anure having wizards of his own—which went against what I’d always been told and what the world believed—would explain a great deal about the Imperial Toad’s uncanny luck in war. Would Ambrose be a match for four wizards, if Agatha was accurate on that number? The wizard had seemed unconcerned, but I needed to talk with him about it, no matter how frustrating that conversation might be.

  The lady of the house personally led us to the rooms set aside for the queen. We formed another parade, leading while Lia’s ladies followed, and servants brought up the rear with the many trunks Lia couldn’t travel without. I would’ve preferred to do a security sweep first, but I didn’t even suggest it, easily able to predict her reaction on that one. Who said I was a slow learner?

  Besides, I figured I could rely on our move to travel to Cradysica being fast enough that Anure wouldn’t have been able to anticipate it. Even if the false emperor had been close enough to attack—and according to the letter from Lia’s spy he wasn’t yet, assuming the information really wasn’t compromised—then it would take Anure at least a full day to adjust. And even if the spies he had in Lia’s court sent a bird as soon as we left, we should have until the next day for him to change his own plans. I doubted Agatha and Za
riah could have spread the news any faster than that, either. I calculated that that gave us all of the following day and night, at a minimum, to set our trap. I wouldn’t hope for more than that.

  I was also counting on Lia’s arcane abilities to suss out any local danger. At least, I assumed she’d be alert for that. So far everyone treated this excursion like a big party, so I’d go along with it. I had to admit, Lia’s strategy for that had worked well enough so far. No one seemed to suspect our real motives for being there.

  Still, I couldn’t help scanning the shadows—so many open windows that anything could come in—though I made myself take my hand off the bagiroca at my belt at Lia’s sideways glare. Ambrose elected to stay outside to play with the kids, saying he didn’t need to change for dinner. Neither did I, for that matter—though Lia might have other ideas—but I knew she would want to, and that fit well with what I had in mind.

  The hostess showed Lia through the extensive spread of rooms, the ladies-in-waiting marshaling the servants to deposit trunks and goods in various places. Would Her Highness like to bathe and change clothes before supper? Oh yes, she certainly would.

  I smiled to myself—and checked all the alcoves and balconies under the guise of appreciating the fine curtains and balmy night air. It had grown full dark—Calanthe sat near the equator, which made the days as stable as the weather, the sun always rising and setting at the same times—but the exterior of the house was well lit with torches and bonfires. No one could sneak by in shadows anyway.

  No apparent danger, so I relaxed a little, finding Lia in conversation with her ladies on the dress she planned to wear, the hostess and servants having left.

  “Dare we relax our guard now?” Lia asked with an arched eyebrow.

  Of course I hadn’t fooled her. I gave her an easy grin, letting her see the wolf in it. “I can, but you might keep your guard up.” I flicked a glance at the ladies. “Leave us.”