by Amber Jaeger
Prince Christopher waved a pair of richly dressed men over. “Get him cleaned up and take him home,” he said, his voice low.
When Olaf began to object from the floor he turned on him, his own face an ugly shade of red. “Shut it, Father. You are drunk. Pray that I can repair the damage you have done here, and to our own kingdom. Take him,” he snapped at the men.
Olaf was dragged away and slowly the music began to play again. The servants remembered themselves and lifted up their trays, offering champagne and distractions to the many guests.
Lian finally turned to Katiyana who still stood frozen. His eyes were scary dark again but she did not flinch. “Might I speak to you?” she murmured, slipping her arm through his again. Through the soft fabric, she felt him relax and led him out through open doors to the garden.
The air was frigid but she walked until she was certain no one could hear and then turned on him. “You have to learn to control your temper!” she yelled.
His eyes shot wide open in surprise but she did not stop her assault, stepping up to poke a finger in his chest. “You just made an enemy, you made me an enemy, because you still cannot control it!”
Lian growled and snatched her hand, trapping it in his. “I am not going to let some piggish man speak to you like that.”
Katiyana scowled. “Are you going to punch out everyone who does not like me? I can tell you now that will gain me no believers, only frightened followers.”
“That is better than nothing,” he snarled.
She wretched her hand out of his. “Because that is what you think I will have without intimidation? Nothing?”
His anger did not fade but had to instead fight with confusion. “No, that is not what I said.”
“It is what you said,” she snapped. “Without you, I am nothing. You think I should be on the throne because you say so, because you wish it to be so? Because it serves you?” All the events and emotions of the day were converging into an ugly storm she could not stop and suddenly she wanted to run. Or climb a tree and hide.
Sensing her dismay, Lian grabbed her just as she took a step back. She raised her knee to fight back but then he dropped to his and bowed his head, releasing her arms only to gently capture her hands. “I cannot bear to hear someone speak of you so. It made me angry and I let my temper take control. I apologize.”
The wind picked up as he spoke, bringing his scent to her nose and she turned her head, trying to be logical. “Lian, please stand,” she said quietly.
He stood but would not meet her eye. Finally she had to tip his chin up with her finger. “I do not want your apology. I want your faith and your friendship and support.”
He gave a rueful grin. “You always have that, even when I am acting like an ass.”
Katiyana snorted, then looked around to make sure no one had heard. “Well that was easy. Is it too much to ask that you stop acting like an ass?”
Lian laughed and pulled her to him. “Yes, but I am trying.”
They were interrupted by an exaggerated rustling. Alma stood at the edge of a rosebush, her brows raised nearly to her hairline. “I would suggest you both get back to the party. Lain, you have some smoothing over to do. Katiyana, you need to freshen up.” With that, she took off back down the path with one glance to make sure Katiyana was following.
She rushed to keep up and followed Alma in through a different door where she promptly whirled on her, her face tight. “You must control him better than this,” Alma hissed.
Katiyana took a step back, confused by the girl’s vehemence. “Me? I cannot control him!”
Alma shook her head and wiped her brow. “Perhaps that is not the best word. But you must not let his temper get the best of him. He hit that man for you. They all know of his temper, and while that was deserved, he cannot gain a reputation of a man out of control.”
Katiyana stood, shocked. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”
“I do not know,” a male voice said behind her. “But you need to figure it out, and quickly.”
She turned to find Bennet behind her, his face drawn. “Why me?”
He shrugged. “Why you and not any of the others? I have no idea. But it is you. He is on a precipice, I have never seen him in such a way.”
“Precipice? What are you talking about?”
Alma moved to stand next to Bennet. “In some ways, he is so like he used to be. And in others, he is becoming even worse. I know you look to the Cold King and see his curse as broken. Calia did that. Now you must do it for our king.”
“But Lian is not cursed,” Katiyana argued, struggling to make sense of things.
“His anger, his temper, it poisons everything he touches. Only now, that you are with him, does it seem to fade. At times.” Alma’s face seemed to melt and Katiyana was horrified to see tears rolling down her cheeks. Bennet wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “I want my king back. And if there is any chance of you bringing out the man that is truly inside him…” she trailed off and buried her face in Bennet’s chest. He smoothed her hair down before leaning a cheek on it.
Finally he spoke words that seemed to make sense. “He could be happy with you, do you not see that? He cannot continue on in broken anger, it will consume him, burn him from the inside out. Please, just help him.” His own chin was quivering and Katiyana hastily nodded, not wanting to see the strong man cry.
They gave weak smiles at her mute reassurance and Bennet led Alma away, leaving Katiyana with only her whirling thoughts. Could it be possible Lian felt for her what she was beginning to suspect she felt for him? Did he need her for something more than the destruction of Sula?
The party was still in full force when she returned with a freshly washed face and combed hair. She scanned the crowd for Lian but was soon inundated by friendly royals wishing her the best and pledging their support.
She smiled and answered questions, explaining her ideas to make things right, all while trying to learn names and connect them to kingdoms. It was exhausting but exhilarating. Queen Mae and Queen Tamere hovered, adding their support and smoothing out the conversation when Katiyana stalled. Lian was always just a few steps away, laughing and talking, but she just could not get to him.
As the evening wound down, the royals began to slip away, either on their own or assisted by their servants. Katiyana found her way to Lian’s side as he spoke with Valanka and leaned her head against his arm.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Exhausted.”
“Still angry?”
“I am… tired.”
Valanka smiled as Calia wound an arm through his. “You two do not mind if we excuse ourselves?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Lian replied before he led Katiyana from the room and back up the stairs. He hesitated at her door.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked hesitantly.
She blinked blurrily, looking up and down the hall. “Fine, I am sure.”
“No,” he said gently. “I meant the nightmares.”
Her eyes popped open and suddenly she was awake again. “Fine,” she said quickly. He did not move away from her. “But if you want to check on me, I will try not to throttle you.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair before leaving her at the door.
Her hand shook as she opened it and blamed it on an overburdened mind. The nightgown she hated was folded primly at the edge of the bed and she ignored it, reaching under the pillow for Lian’s.
Encased in darkness and warmth and the familiar smell of her king, she was sure she would not have nightmares.
“Father?” she cried, as he bent over, heaving thick red spew out of his body.
Her feet moved but she did not reach him. “Father!” she shrieked. Her father choked and gasped as thick strings of blood and mucus swung from his lips. Darkness converged in the corner of his opulent sleeping quarters and for a moment she could make out her stepmothers sneering face.
“Pl
ease stop,” she begged, knowing neither one could hear her.
Her father wretched again and she heard bones crack as his back seized in a futile attempt to expel the poison.
The bed shifted under her and a heavy, warm arm kept her from shooting straight from it.
“Another nightmare,” Lian murmured next to her.
Her surroundings slowly came into focus. The low fire, the soft bed, the mound in it that was her king. She reached a shaky hand up to her face and was surprised there were no tears.
“Your throat will be sore in the morning,” Lian said softly. “I will send for some tea and honey.”
She said nothing, horrified everyone would know of her childish fears.
“They do not know,” his voice came again softly. “I was here before you really started screaming.”
She cringed away from him, embarrassed and still frightened. But he merely clamped his arm down tighter, dragging her into his chest. “Go back to sleep, you do not cry out when I am near you.” His voice was calm and soothing and tinged with weariness.
Not wanting to disturb him any further, or embarrass herself even more, she pressed her cheek to her pillow and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Morning came with a fierce joyfulness. The sun filled Katiyana’s eyes even before she opened them and there was part of her that mourned that her back was cold. Lian was not there. Had she dreamed it?
“It does not matter,” she told herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Then she let her head sink into the pillow. It did matter. To her. To her heart.
But nothing mattered more than her father’s people and she still had a long way to go before she could even hope to secure the throne and help them.
A cold bath cleared her mind and she dressed in the gown Gace had made for her. She smiled as she put all her gear into the pockets. Though she was sure she would not need to catch a fish or build a fire today, she felt better knowing that she was prepared.
Lian met her at the door as she left for breakfast, his face somber. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.
“Perfect,” she responded, trying to ignore the emotions of the day and night before.
When he offered his arm, she did not refuse.
Breakfast was quiet and small, most of the royals preferring to eat in their rooms. Valanka and Calia were of course nowhere to be seen but their trusted friends milled about, their faces filled with happiness.
When Iago stopped at Katiyana’s elbow with a steaming mug of tea, she smiled herself and accepted it. Lian cleared his throat and she looked up, the question on her face.
“Congratulations,” he said, not looking at her. It took her a moment to trace his eyes back to Iago’s face. The healer seemed… amused.
When he spoke, Katiyana was even more confused. “I am no threat to you,” he said, his voice gentle but stern. “You know I cared for Calia while our king was… conflicted. No matter my position here, it is always my task in life to care for those that are in need.”
“I will see to what she needs,” Liam said fiercely.
Appearing out of nowhere, Alma flashed her alarmed eyes at Katiyana. Katiyana shrugged, which brought her into closer contact with the king. He seemed to melt under her arm, even though she accepted the tea from Iago. Annoyed but intrigued, she thanked the man and led her king away from the very small crowd.
“How can you not like Iago?” she questioned as soon as they were out of hearing from anyone else.
Lian sputtered for a moment before responding. “It is not that I do not like him. I just do not trust him. I do not trust anyone.”
Katiyana rolled her eyes and took a sip of the soothing tea. “Truly? You do not trust Alma? Bennet? Me?”
He scowled and turned his eyes on the small gathering. “You are not royalty yet. Wait until that day, then tell me who you trust.”
Katiyana jerked her arm from his. “That is your answer? It may as well be a ‘no’. You do not trust me? Alma? Bennet?”
“You are all family,” he said roughly, taking up her arm again. “Of course I trust you.”
“Then stop acting like an ass,” she seethed. “The only enemy you have is Sula and she is not here.”
At that moment Marchello appeared, and asked with his perfect manners that all guests would find better entertainment in the library while they set up for the wedding.
Katiyana let herself be led through the castle, down bright halls and perfect sitting areas.
‘This is not me,’ she thought. ‘I am somewhere catching fish for lunch and dreading another lesson from Adora.’
That thought shook her from her memories. Adora. The girl with no name. Cidra. Especially Cidra. She was in a position to help them all and she would not squander it by getting sucked into anything.
A light lunch was served before all the guest were seated for the wedding. Katiyana gasped as they entered the great hall. It had transformed from open, bleak, whiteness to intimate color. Every last surface had been covered with roses.
Red roses, yellow roses, white ones and even deep purple. Soft pink flowers made an arch before the largest window.
“They are so beautiful,” she whispered as Lian led her to her seat. “I have seen pictures but never a real one. The smell is…”
Lian smiled and took her hand in his. “In Valanka’s kingdom, it is custom to offer a rose when proposing. For many years, he was the only one able to grow them and hid them away in his garden. The town’s people had to resort to paper flowers until Calia changed his mind. He no longer hides them, or even sells them. They are free to whoever has need of one.”
The crowd quieted as Valanka entered and made his way to the front. When Calia came, they all stood in awe. Her pale blue gown flattered every inch of her and Katiyana wondered for a moment if Mr. Gace had made it.
The ceremony was short but beautiful and she tucked in close to Lian, cherishing each moment of it. She did not know she had wished for something like that, but the want was suddenly there and it was so sharp it hurt.
Before she knew it, her new friends were kissing and everyone rose to cheer. She must have been a little slow, because Lian took her elbow to help her rise.
“Overcome with emotion?” he teased, his eyes on the new couple.
She nodded, hiding her face in his side. But he was not to be deceived, and dipped his fingers down to raise her chin. “You will have this all. Some day.”
Katiyana gave a faint smile and stepped away, suddenly aware of eyes on them.
The reception was just as lovely as the ceremony. Again, roses decorated everything and warmed the room. There was food and drink and music. They feasted and danced and mingled and celebrated. Lian stayed with her the entire time, only releasing her when another man asked to dance.
Prince Christopher eventually made his way to ask. Lian’s hand at her waist tightened and she turned, taking in the young man. “Would you care to dance?”
“She would not,” Lian said sharply.
Katiyana stepped away, arching an eyebrow. “Yes, she would.”
The young prince led her out onto the floor and she glanced back once to take in Lian’s smoldering gaze. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Your… friend is not pleased with me,” he finally said, his hands lightly resting on her waist.
“He is exceedingly overprotective,” she said, concentrating on her feet.
“I must apologize for my father. He is an incredible ass.”
The insult made her look up and she snorted. “Yes, he is. But you do not have to apologize for him.”
“No, I do. It is my fault he is still on the throne. He promised to vacate it as soon as I married.”
She raised a brow. “How… generous?”
“No, it is selfish. He wishes to spend more time with his vineyards and wine.” His mouth twisted sourly and she could not tell if he was angry or sad.
“And you have not married yet? Surely you have your pick of
women.”
His face fell, creating lines that spoke of his sadness, aging him by years. “I have already chosen her. But then she met my father and wanted nothing to do with me or my family. I have searched high and low for her. I know if I could just speak to her, show her…”
Katiyana took in his handsome features and soft eyes. Surely he could not be what Cidra was running from?
A polite cough interrupted both of their thoughts and Lian held a hand out.
To Christopher she said, “I hope you find her. And thank you for your support.”
Evening was slowly coming upon them and candles were lit as the sun’s descent was cut short by the height of the mountains. Some people had already wandered off, in search of their own rooms but many remained, speaking in small groups or sipping the last of their drinks at their tables.
Katiyana sat sleepily, seated next to Lian as he talked quietly with Bennet. It had not escaped her notice that he had asked Alma to dance several times and she smiled to herself.
A servant came around with a silver platter held high. He bowed to Lian before presenting the platter with a creamy letter centered on it.
“My lord, a message for you.”
Lian took the letter and something deep in the pit of her stomach clenched with fear. Beads of sweat sprung up on her brow as he cracked the plain seal and folded the parchment open.
As he read, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed, leaving only slits of darkness beneath his furrowed brows. Angry red came up on his cheeks and the letter trembled with the shaking of his hand.
She held her breath, watching him read the letter. Finally, he gave it to her without saying a word.
Lian,
I hear you have found a new thing to love. I shall enjoy taking it from you. Tell my dear child I am so disappointed to hear she is alive.