by Cayla Kluver
Just as I put my utensils down upon my empty plate, there was a knock and Tadark opened the door. Destari entered and I could contain my curiosity no more.
“The last time I woke to find one of my bodyguards missing, the outcome was disastrous,” I said, guilt over London’s dismissal crushing the intended light tone of my voice. “I would like to know what’s going on.”
I stood and walked toward him, placing my tray back upon the table it had originally occupied.
“I am to inform you that I will no longer be your bodyguard,” Destari rumbled, giving me a slight bow.
“And are you to inform me of the reason you have been removed?”
I had grown tired of Cannan and my father making decisions that directly affected me without bothering to offer explanation.
“I was not instructed to tell you anything further, but the explanation is straightforward. I have been given a new assignment.”
An involuntary shudder rippled through my body as it came to me that with London gone and Destari reassigned, I might end up with a single bodyguard by the name of Tadark. “Couldn’t someone else—” I tipped my head toward Tadark “—be given this new task?”
Destari caught my meaning and shook his head. “I’m afraid this is much too important to be entrusted to someone else.”
I frowned in annoyance. “What is this new assignment?”
“Perhaps you should raise that question with the captain or the King.”
“I’m asking you,” I said pointedly. “I will learn what this is about one way or another. Why don’t you save me the trouble and tell me now.”
For a moment, he grappled with the decision, unwilling to relent yet knowing there was truth in my assertion. In the end, he acceded.
“Have you not wondered where we are holding the Cokyrian prisoner?”
I heard Tadark shuffling around by the door and saw his eyes shift to Destari’s face, his interest also captured by the deputy captain’s words.
“In the dungeon, I presume,” I said, already unsure of my statement based on Destari’s expression.
“Do you see your father as the type of man who would imprison in such a place a boy of the same age as his daughters?”
“No,” I said, considering his words carefully. “Is it safe then to assume he is being housed in the palace proper?”
“That would be a fair assumption.”
“And can I also assume that he will be guarded by someone with great experience?”
“That also is a reasonable conclusion.”
I nodded gratefully. “One last thing, then.”
Destari scowled at me, wondering what else I could possibly demand of him.
“Will I be assigned a new secondary bodyguard?”
“I’m afraid not,” Destari responded with a knowing smile. “The captain has decided that the measure of security we’ve been maintaining within the palace is no longer necessary, as the traitor has been identified. The members of the royal family will once again have only one bodyguard and he will return to a normal daily routine. Tadark will be your permanent guard.”
I contained my groan of misery with great effort. The only positive aspect of the situation was that Tadark would no longer be protecting me twenty-four hours a day—he was a bit more tolerable when taken in smaller doses.
“I appreciate that you took the time to tell me of your change in duty,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted.
Destari inclined his head and turned to leave.
“Wait!” Tadark cried. “Aren’t you going to tell us about your new assignment?”
Destari stared at him as though no expression he could form upon his face would quite convey what he was feeling and then walked out the door without another word.
I saw nothing of Destari or the Cokyrian prisoner over the next few days, which led me to believe the boy was being held in one of the guest rooms on the third floor, away from the areas the royal family frequented. My father and Cannan could often be seen in conversation, most likely about their young captive, though they never said anything in my presence about what they intended to do with him. If not for Destari, I would have believed him to be starving in the dungeon like our other prisoners, though it should have occurred to me that my father would not allow a child to be confined within those dank walls. The captive needed to be interrogated, but my father would not want him subjected to torture.
As I considered these things, I felt relieved that I, unlike my father, did not have to make judgments about the prisoner. He was young, yes, but also a Cokyrian, and though they would not treat him unkindly for the first reason, neither could they trust him. Hytanicans had only ever encountered Cokyrian adults and no one could imagine what this boy was doing here, if he had been sent as a spy or a messenger, or if he had for some reason fled his homeland. I was, of course, also frustrated by the lack of information I had been able to gather, but I supposed this situation was held in stricter confidence than even the investigation of the Elite Guard. It was unlikely Steldor would know about this, I had been thankful to deduce, for it saved me from having to suffer through another afternoon with him.
On the morning of the fourth day after Destari had been assigned to be the young Cokyrian’s guard, I headed to the library, desirous of a location to think, where Tadark might hold his tongue. I was brimming with questions, yet could not concentrate, for the lieutenant was still bent on talking about London’s incompetence. He was in the middle of a tirade when I pushed the library door open.
“Once in a while I would see a glint in his eyes almost as though he were taunting me….”
I fought the urge to tell Tadark outright that London had been taunting him, when I saw my sister. She was sitting on the padded window seat across the room with her best friend, Semari, whom I had not known was visiting us. They were clearly gossiping about something, because their voices were low and occasionally one of them would clap a hand over her mouth, aghast at what the other had said. Aware that someone had entered, they stopped talking and looked in my direction.
“Come here, Alera!” Miranna said delightedly, springing to her feet. “We were just discussing the latest scandals!”
I smiled and moved toward the window, ready to contribute heartily to their conversation. When Tadark followed, I waved him off, and he instead joined Halias by the fireplace.
“Miranna has just been telling me about the Cokyrian prisoner,” Semari said, her clear blue eyes glistening. “She says he is very handsome.”
She and Miranna giggled, and I readily concurred, sitting in a chair opposite them. The prisoner was undeniably attractive, though in a much different way than Steldor. The captain’s son had a polished style, with classic good looks and sophisticated taste. The Cokyrian was unique, with eyes that entranced in a moment and a young but worldly face. While I had only seen him once, I sensed a deepness within him that Steldor would never possess. Not wanting to share any of these thoughts, I attempted to redirect the discussion to something of greater appeal to me.
“What do you think he’s doing here?”
“I don’t care much about that,” Semari scoffed, not sharing my interest in the least. “But I do so want to meet him and ask him about his homeland. I’ve never been into the desert lands of the east or into the mountains, and can’t imagine what it must be like to live in such a forbidding place.”
“He can’t be as dangerous as the adults of his kind, so it would be safe to talk with him, wouldn’t it?” Miranna agreed. “He may well be our only chance to learn firsthand about the Cokyrians!”
Semari sat quietly, gnawing on a fingernail. Although she was almost a year and a half younger than my sister, her bubbly nature and love of all things feminine made them an ideal match.
“What are you thinking?” Miranna asked.
Semari sighed in frustration, having discovered a fault in whatever she had been working through in her mind.
“We could never get to him in the dungeon. Wi
th all the guards down there, it would be impossible!”
I laughed to myself, for I knew something they did not. I leaned closer, motioning them to do the same, and whispered in their ears.
“Are you certain?” Miranna asked when I had finished.
I gave a self-assured nod.
Semari was gleeful. “This is perfect! I know exactly what to do.”
We huddled together so that our foreheads almost touched and began to plot our strategy.
Semari spent the night with Miranna in her quarters, and the next morning we put our scheme into action. In order to discover where the prisoner was being kept, I chanced a visit to the Guest Wing, which comprised the eastern half of the palace’s third floor. I thought it probable that the Cokyrian was being housed in one of the rooms at the rear of the palace, and so avoided using my family’s stairway, instead using the stairwell located just off the Grand Staircase to gain access to the upper floor. Although there were generally no guards posted on the third floor unless guests were occupying the rooms, I did not want to emerge into the corridor and blunder into Destari.
My mission was to lurk in the Guest Wing as long as it took to locate the prisoner’s room, then return to the library, where Miranna and Semari would be passing the time. The only disquiet I felt about my task was Tadark’s constant and clinging company, but as it turned out he became a potential obstacle only once.
“I don’t understand what we’re doing here,” he said, bored with my chosen activity, or more precisely, the lack of activity.
“You don’t have to understand, Tadark. All that is required is that you leave me be.”
“Are you doing something you’re not supposed to be doing? Destari said something about guest rooms—”
“I implore you to be quiet…Tad,” I needled, remembering how much he despised the moniker.
“Don’t call me that.” Tadark’s brown eyes narrowed.
“If you stop talking right now, I’ll never call you Tad again.”
He nodded, then stood back from me, and no further sound escaped his lips.
The Guest Wing contained seven rooms, five of which were located along exterior walls, and two windowless interior rooms. A corridor led all the way through the wing so that I could start where I now stood and travel past all of the rooms, arriving back at my point of origin.
I walked to the west, then turned north into the corridor that divided the Guest Wing from the servants’ quarters. Coming to the end of the hall, I leaned around the corner to the right to peer down its length, looking for Destari. His enormous frame was disappearing into the nearest of the two interior rooms. Though there was no sign of his charge, I had to assume I had discovered where the Cokyrian was being held. I considered the location, realizing that it made sense to house our captive in one of the windowless rooms.
I retreated to the stairwell and descended the steps to return to the second floor, Tadark trotting behind. I hastened past the King’s Dining Hall, then continued toward the library at the rear of the palace, where I was to collect Miranna and Semari. They were seated together on the wide sill of the bay window when I entered, with Halias in front of them in an armchair, indulging their desire to braid pieces of his long, blond hair.
“Miranna, Semari, come with me,” I called. “I have something to show you!” They knew by my words that I had located Destari and the prisoner.
Semari and Halias stood, but Miranna remained seated for a moment longer, the brightness of her smile fading.
“Are you all right?” Halias asked as he moved his chair off to the side of the window.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she murmured. “Just a bit dizzy.”
She got to her feet and began to cross the room with her friend.
“Now, what is it you have to show…”
Without further warning, Miranna collapsed, falling like a doll in the middle of the large rug on the library floor, her sentence left unfinished. I rushed to her, dropping to my knees beside her.
“Mira!” I cried, panic in my voice.
She lay on her side and her limbs began to quake, violent shivers soon consuming her whole body. Nonsense tumbled from her lips in the same way it had when she had suffered similar attacks as a little girl. Semari was standing with her back to the library wall, her face stricken. Halias was at Miranna’s other side in an instant, his blue eyes darting between me and my sister, as this was not a danger from which he could provide protection. It had been twelve years since Miranna’s last attack, and none of us were any more prepared to handle the situation today than we had been over a decade ago.
“Tadark!” I called to my horrified bodyguard, who was frozen by the door. “Fetch Bhadran! Tell him it’s Miranna!”
Tadark raced from the room, off to find the doctor who attended the royal family.
“Quickly,” I said to Halias, my words catching in my throat. “Find my mother.”
Halias followed Tadark out the door without a backward glance, and Semari scurried after him to peek into the corridor.
“They’re gone!” she whispered, turning to face me.
Miranna stayed her spasms and sat up, whereupon I helped her to her feet.
“We don’t have long,” I reminded them. “We have to hurry.”
Semari rushed out the door, her face flushed with excitement. Miranna and I followed, having successfully eluded our bodyguards, and the three of us hastened south through the corridor toward the front of the palace, then up the stairs to the third floor. As I led our trio out of the stairwell, I turned east, then crept north until we could peer to our left around the far corner to observe the prisoner’s room.
Semari retreated to the southern end of the corridor and Miranna and I ducked into a vacant guest room. It wasn’t long before she let out an ear-piercing scream. A few seconds passed and then we heard another.
As we had intended, Destari came hurtling around the corner to investigate, going past the room in which my sister and I were hiding and giving us a chance to slip out undiscovered. While he searched for the source of the screams, I clasped Miranna’s hand and we went directly to the door Destari had been guarding. I turned the handle, stepping quickly inside, shadowed by my sister, who gave the door a push so it swung shut.
The Cokyrian was sitting cross-legged atop the bed in the sparsely furnished room, one of his hands shackled to the bedpost, but despite this, he looked more relaxed than the last time I had seen him. He had bathed and changed into different clothing—black trousers and a loose white shirt, both too big for him, the cumulative effect of which was to make him appear even younger. The only items on his person of his own were probably the belt about his hips and the well-worn boots on his feet.
He looked up when we entered, his deep blue eyes appraising us, the lift in his eyebrows his only reaction to our unorthodox arrival. In that instant, my tongue failed me. I had been concentrating so heavily on executing our plan that I had not given a single thought to what I would say should it prove successful.
For a long and agonizing moment, Miranna and I stared at him, and he stared back at us. Finally, I introduced myself the way I would have to anyone else.
“Excuse our intrusion,” I said, trying my best to sound confident. “I am Princess Alera of Hytanica, and this is my sister, Princess Miranna.” I motioned to Miranna, who was standing beside me. “We deemed it time to greet our guest.”
He continued to assess us. Just as I was beginning to wonder if he were mute, he spoke, voice smooth and polite.
“Forgive me for being forward, Your Highnesses, but I was under the impression that I am more a prisoner than a guest.” He raised his arm and shook his shackled wrist.
I fought back the blush that threatened my cheeks, for this was not the answer I had expected. Rallying my dignity, I tried again.
“Prisoner or otherwise, you cannot deny that you are being treated kindly. Since we have already introduced ourselves, common courtesy would dictate that you do the same.”
He continued to watch us warily, as if determining whether we represented some new interrogation technique.
“I am called Narian,” he finally answered, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“It’s nice to meet you, Narian.”
Miranna had not uttered a word, apparently too stupefied that our strategy had worked to enter the conversation. She was not to be given the chance to speak, for at that moment, the door forcefully opened, and she and I just managed to avoid being hit. Destari stood in the corridor, face livid, black eyes glittering like shards of glass, grasping Semari’s wrist in his left hand. He tugged her into the room with him, glaring fiercely at everyone present, excluding Narian, who had played no role in creating the present circumstances.
“What were you thinking?” Destari boomed. “I would never have expected such rash behavior from any of you—especially you two!” he said, aiming his tirade at Miranna and me. “Princesses! Whatever made you think to try something this brainless? And just how were you planning to slip back out once you were inside? Did you actually think you would get away with something as childish and irresponsible as this? You should be ashamed!”
He continued his rant for a moment longer, then stopped, realizing no one was listening to him. My sister and I were gaping at Semari and Narian, who were staring transfixed at each other. Though Semari’s blond hair was lighter and her skin fairer, their faces were strikingly similar, with full lips, straight noses and softly arching eyebrows. Their eyes, too, were a similar shade of blue, though Narian’s were cold and aloof, in contrast to Semari’s, which were bright and innocent. The resemblance was so strong, in fact, that once I saw them together, I couldn’t believe his looks had not immediately brought her to mind.
“Kyenn?” Semari said tentatively.
“I’m taking you to the Captain of the Guard,” Destari interjected, seizing control of the situation. “All of you.”
He unshackled Narian from the bedpost, then marched us out of the room and west through the corridor toward the spiral staircase, keeping a distrustful hand on Narian’s shoulder the entire way. As we approached the landing, we ran into Halias, who had caught on to part of our plan and was not the least bit amused, and Tadark, who was quite perplexed, not yet having figured out what was happening.