Sins of Basilia (Shrouded Thrones Book 4)

by Jeanne Hardt

“Sleep well, Brother.” She stayed exactly where she was and watched them depart. Surely, he would share her news, though in the quiet of their chamber. The way in which he departed made her wonder if he suspected something more lay in her words.

  No matter. Whatever he might be thinking, she had planted the necessary seeds. By the time she revealed the ancient law, his wonderful thoughts would be sprouting. Talman reveled in power and she had offered him the means to attain what he had never deemed possible.

  It was growing late, and since she needed to prepare herself for her lover, she made her way to her bedchamber. Kendor would be disappointed when she turned him away, but she longed for more than he could give her, and she intended to prove her vow to Denali. Tonight, she would sleep in his arms, reveling in the reassurance of his love.

  Tomorrow was another issue.

  Chapter 11

  Tesher wound a knitted scarf around his neck, then donned the heavy cloak Carmela had given him. “Has it truly been five days since our arrival?”

  “Yes.” She smiled and readjusted his neckwear, placing a portion of it high to his mouth. “You slept solidly for nearly three days. It is no wonder you have no concept of the time that has passed.”

  “You tended me well.” He stared at her beautiful face. “Now that I am no longer feverish, may I kiss you?”

  She pursed her lips in a manner reminiscent of Angeline. “As a show of gratitude for my fine care, or is it something more?”

  “You know very well, it is both.”

  “Then, please, kiss me.” Her features softened, much to Tesher’s relief. Though he understood the playfulness in her former expression, he did not care for the resemblance to her sister in any way.

  He pushed the scarf down from his mouth and eagerly obliged her. Her lips were blessedly warm.

  Someone loudly cleared their throat.

  Tesher opened his eyes and separated from Carmela. Grinning, Perrin stood not far away with his hands casually folded in front of himself. “The sleigh is ready for your ride through the village. Have you finished your preparations?”

  A wonderful blush rose onto Carmela’s cheeks. “Yes, Perrin.” She lifted her cloth satchel. “I heated stones to place near our feet, and the extra blankets are there beside the front door.” She gestured to the exit.

  “Good.” He turned to Tesher. “Are you certain you are fully well, Highness?”

  “I feel exceptional, and I long to see more of Thanwine. I am weary of staring at the walls of my bedchamber.”

  “Then, we shall go.” Perrin bowed, moved to the main door, and opened it.

  Carmela crossed to where she had set the blankets and grabbed them. “Tesher, watch your footing on the stone steps. As is usual here, snow is falling and they can be quite slippery.”

  He pulled the hood of his cloak up onto his head, then took one of the blankets from her and followed her out the door. “Have you ever fallen?”

  “Not since I was very young.”

  “I remember that incident,” Perrin said. “Your father was heartsick. You twisted your leg so badly, you had to be carried around the castle for days.” He took her arm and helped her into the waiting sleigh.

  Tesher carefully followed them. “Who carried you?” With Perrin’s help, he climbed in beside her.

  “My brothers mostly, but more than once, even Father helped me to a meal.” She removed her gloves, carefully opened her satchel and placed the warm stones on the floorboards at their feet. After covering her hands again, she scooted against him, then situated the blankets atop them. She tucked the fabric in at their sides and over the stones. Even in the open sleigh, the rocks efficiently emanated heat that traveled upward and warmed their legs.

  Tesher held her gloved hand beneath the blankets. “The stones were a brilliant idea. I imagine you have learned many ways of managing the cold.”

  “If we had intended to be out for a greater length of time, I would have heated potatoes rather than rocks. We could have eaten them once they cooled. But Clarinda has promised a fantastic meal to celebrate your return to health. We will eat heartily upon our return, so the potatoes were unnecessary.”

  Perrin climbed into the driver’s seat and grabbed the reins, then looked back at Carmela and questioned with his eyes.

  “We are ready,” she said and squeezed Tesher’s hand.

  The sleigh jerked in a similar fashion to the carriage, then glided easily across the snowy ground. The horses somehow managed to keep their footing—a fact that should not surprise him. Animals were better suited for such climates.

  The castle sat high in the hills, and the ride into the village went steadily downward. A quiet hush fell over the land as if the snow muffled every sound. Being with Carmela and warm, he ably appreciated its beauty.

  They passed beneath tall pines with branches that hung low from the weighted snow. Now and then, large masses of white fell and thumped to the ground beside them. At times, it dropped within the sleigh, but it only made them laugh. They quickly tossed it aside before it had the opportunity to melt.

  When they reached the village, smoke billowed from the chimney tops of every cottage. Few people were outdoors. Those they passed vigorously waved, then humbly bowed when they recognized their princess. Tesher doubted they were aware of his identity. Carmela had done an exceptional job of covering his face, and the hood of his cloak hid his head. Honestly, he preferred anonymity.

  The exposed portion of his cheeks started to sting from the cold, but he chose to ignore the discomfort. “Are your people aware of King Frederick’s death?”

  “I have not spoken to anyone in the village, but I am sure my brother told them. He would have delivered a notice of such magnitude at the town square.” She pointed ahead. “Do you see the large bell suspended from the beams of that platform?”

  He craned his neck. “Yes.”

  “Whenever an announcement is made, the bell is rung, and the people gather. Otherwise, you will rarely see a Thanwinian wandering the village. They do what they must to gather food and firewood, then stay indoors whenever it snows heavily. Which happens most every day.”

  “It does not sound like an appealing life. I would feel terribly restricted if unable to freely roam the land.”

  “My people are accustomed to it. They can freely roam, yet choose not to, and find other ways to use their time. They are brilliant craftsmen and artisans, and they are musically inclined and love to perform. Even if it is simply to entertain one another. No other realm can boast of such talent.”

  He pulled her hand to his chest and held it over his heart. “Your love for them is apparent.”

  “They are exceptional people.” She pointed to a cottage with a blue-and-red-trimmed door and frowned. “The mask maker, Graden, lives there. Ever since my brother’s wedding and the tragedy of your sister’s death, he has not created a single item.”

  “Why? He was not at fault.”

  “He claims his work hid the identity of the wrongdoer, and he feels wretched for it.”

  “Can he not craft other items?”

  They passed the cottage and wound around a pathway that circled the town square. “Angeline compensated him well for the masks, and he has no need to continue working. Graden wallows and drowns his days in Issan wine.” She turned her head and looked directly into Tesher’s eyes. “I know you understand what that is like.”

  “Dreadfully, I do, and I am certainly not proud of it. I should try to help him.”

  “Others have tried and failed. If you wish to make the attempt—which I feel is honorable—today is not wise. For as long as we are able, I would like to keep your identity hidden.” She followed her words by readjusting his scarf. “I fear that rumors will rapidly spread soon. No one will understand why I am not in Basilia for the funeral, and they will be curious as to the stranger in my company.”

  “Then why did you risk bringing me to the village?”

  “You were restless and asked to see it. I chose t
o abide by your request.”

  He tipped his head, pondering her remark. “You confuse me, Carmela. It is almost as if you welcome scandal.”

  “No matter what I do, some things are unavoidable, yet I am attempting to boldly meet whatever comes. With every day that passes, I contemplate what might be happening to my brothers. While you lay ill, I stayed up many nights in turmoil over what Angeline could be plotting. I nearly landed myself in a sickbed beside you.” She took both of his hands in hers. “The day your fever broke, a sense of calm overcame me. I knew you would live, and I chose to stop fretting over what might come to pass and focus instead on what I want to see happen in my life.”

  “A future with me?”

  “Yes.” She swallowed hard, then leaned close. “If the worst were to happen,” she whispered, “and my brothers perished without heirs, I would become queen of Thanwine. Could you be content here?”

  He stared at her, utterly conflicted. “It is a bad omen to speak of your brothers that way.”

  She looked downward. “I realize that.” Sighing, she raised her eyes. “Even so, I must know. Regardless of whether or not something happens to them by Angeline’s hand, eventually, they will die. They are much older than I. If there is no king to reign, the people of Thanwine will require my leadership. So, I ask again, could you be happy here?”

  He sat taller in the seat and gazed around the village. So different than the hot sandy caverns of Oros. Yet, it had a pristine quaintness that deeply touched him. He had an unexplainable desire to learn more about every man, woman, and child who lived behind each closed door.

  He returned his full attention to Carmela. “I wish to remain by your side, wherever that might be.” His heart wrenched. “I only fear my father will demand my return to Oros.”

  “You must deny him. My instincts have screamed that trouble lays beyond our kingdom. You would not be safe in Oros.”

  “Am I safe here?” He splayed his arms wide. “Or anywhere, for that matter?”

  She nestled into him and rested against his chest. “If you are my husband, the people of Thanwine will stand behind you and offer their protection.” Tipping her head up, she looked him in the eyes. “They are not only gifted with needle and thread, they are also skilled with the sword.”

  “Then expedite my age, so I can marry you.” He grunted. “In all seriousness, by now, Frederick’s funeral rites will have surely been said, and soon—God willing—your brothers will make their way home. I imagine someone from Oros will accompany them here and insist I return to my own realm and cease shaming you.”

  “I am not shamed.” She shut her eyes and remained pressed against him.

  He loved having her so close, but could not dismiss the impossibility of their situation. He had finally allowed himself to feel worthy of her affections. Yet, until he was eighteen, regardless of how much he wanted to defy his father, he had no firm stance against him.

  Perrin glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and faced forward again. The man guided the horses the rest of the way through the village, then turned them around to journey home.

  As they passed Graden’s cottage, the need to help the man tugged at Tesher’s insides. Not only did he comprehend wanting to alleviate pain in drunkenness, he understood guilt. But how could Graden believe he had attributed to Marni’s death? That was a silly notion. Then again, perhaps the man was hiding a detail of which no one else was aware. Someday soon, Tesher would speak to him.

  It seemed wherever Tesher went, Angeline had her hands deep in everything. She had commissioned the masks to be made. That fact alone affirmed Tesher’s suspicions of her involvement in that horrible affair. Just as she had used him to rid herself of Frederick, she had used the skill of the mask maker to aid in ending Marni’s life.

  He wrapped his arms around Carmela and held her all the way back to the castle, drawing strength from her presence. Besides, the stones had cooled, and he wanted to do all he could to keep her warm.

  She seemed almost helpless, lying so peacefully in his arms. It touched his heart that she had feared for his life, but also saddened him. They were young and should be contemplating their future with positive thoughts, hopes, and dreams. And yet, because of Angeline, fear overshadowed everything.

  He and Carmela were both afraid of many things, but she had much greater resolve, and he respected her for it.

  “You are too good for me,” he whispered and wiped the falling snowflakes from her cheeks the moment they touched her skin.

  She hugged him. “Never say that again.”

  Her head remained pressed to his chest, along with her firm hold on him.

  They rode silently the rest of the way, and by the time they reached the castle, an unusual peace gripped him.

  Walking much taller than when they had departed, he exited the sleigh and ascended the snow-covered steps. Carmela stayed at his side, affectionately clutching onto his arm.

  He stopped in the main entryway and peered upward at the tall ceiling, then deeply inhaled and gazed around him. Yes, he could be content here. If only the rest of the world would leave them alone.

  Unfortunately, that was highly unlikely.

  Chan took slow, steady steps toward the front of the temple, and Angeline followed close behind, carefully holding a lit candle—the symbol of Frederick’s life. When the service came to a completion, she would snuff it out, just as she had her living, breathing husband.

  She smiled at the thought and kept walking.

  Every royal sat at the front of the temple, with two exceptions. Angeline saw no trace of Princess Pasha or Prince Yakar. As much as she wanted to contemplate where they might be and exactly what they were doing, she had more important things to consider.

  The sanctuary had filled to capacity, and many people pushed themselves into the doorways, trying to get close. It seemed more people had come for Frederick’s rites than had been here for the funeral of King Roland. Not only did Angeline feel their devotion, she felt every eye on her, increasing the excitement of the day. Though she would have to display her best grief, she would internally delight in her soon-to-come revelation.

  Four other priests gathered close to the altar, and stood two to each side of the giant moon orb. They droned a chanted prayer, then lifted their hands heavenward.

  Chan guided Angeline to the center of the room and positioned her between the priests, directly in front of the orb. Only the altar separated her from her people. She ritualistically placed Frederick’s brightly flickering candle in a waiting stand at the altar’s center.

  Chan bowed to her, then moved around the altar, faced the people, and held up a hand. “We have gathered together in grief to acknowledge the untimely passing of a king.”

  Numerous sobs erupted from the crowd.

  Angeline sniffled, reached under her veil, and dabbed at her face with a black handkerchief.

  “Not long ago,” Chan continued, “Prince Frederick was crowned king of Basilia, high king of the realms. Never could we have expected to come together again so soon to send him on to an even higher realm. Although we mourn his passing, we celebrate, knowing he will stand with God for all eternity!”

  Angeline knew better and held in a smirk. Frederick’s body might be lying entombed in the crypt beneath the castle, but his soul was far from God’s side.

  Chan took Frederick’s candle from the altar. “We cannot comprehend why some men are taken from this world, when it would seem they had much left to accomplish. Yet God’s plan is not to be questioned. Our hearts ache as we mourn King Frederick’s loss, yet he will not be forgotten.” He raised the candle high. “This taper stands as a representation of his soul. It flickers with life and casts radiant light. Remember your king as a vibrant being who was an example of God’s grace and endless love. Send him to the afterlife with shouts of praise!”

  “Praise be to God!” the people chanted together, as was customary. “May He now bring King Frederick into His presence!”

  Ang
eline forced down the bile that arose in her throat. She looked toward Denali, but doubted he knew her eyes were on him. Even so, his rested on her. He was probably thinking the very thoughts in her mind. Frederick had loved only himself and deserved to die.

  She shifted her gaze to Kendor—who stood rigid beside Talman—with his shoulders back and his chin high. Her dear lover’s loyalty exceeded that of many others who had come into her life. Soon, she would reward him for his service and make amends for sending him away the previous night.

  Ever-so-slowly, Chan lowered the candle to the level of his chest. “When night comes, our moon may not be full, yet I feel God’s presence. When his finest servants are honored, God does not sleep. He has opened His arms to receive Frederick into His care and casts down His blessings upon everyone gathered.” Chan walked around the altar and stood before Angeline. “I humbly pass Frederick’s light to his queen. May his memories never perish.”

  “May his memories never perish,” the crowd repeated.

  Angeline lifted her veil and solemnly took the candle, then crossed to the place Chan had stood and faced her people. “My grief is unfathomable,” she choked out, stone-faced. “I carry Frederick’s child, who will one day stand before you as his heir. Until that day, I take it upon myself to proudly rule Basilia with compassion and love, doing all I can to be the queen Frederick wanted me to become.”

  “We love you!” a woman cried out.

  Angeline held a hand to her bosom. “Bless you.” She grasped the candle again with both hands.

  The massive room grew utterly quiet.

  She looked back at Chan, who nodded for her to continue.

  Gladly.

  She took a pronounced breath and faced the gathering once again. “We have honored Frederick and he has been duly sent on his way into the afterlife.” For a brief moment, she stared at the dancing flame, then blew it out.

  Sniffles and soft cries surrounded her.

  She dabbed at her eyes, then squared her jaw and stood tall. “I will continue to mourn, and I know not when my heart will mend. However, the realms require a high king. That, I am not. According to the laws of old, being that Frederick has no current heir, the title of high king must be won.”