The Heart of the Lost Star (Tales of the High Court Book 3)

by Megan Derr

  Murmurs rose and fell as he passed by the other tables, but Kamir ignored them. He settled at the table, and thanked the servant who came up with a plate of food. Refusing the wine and beer on offer, he requested a cup of tea instead.

  "I think Lord Lesto would have been the easier option."

  Kamir swallowed the bite of rice he'd just eaten. "I think it would be presumptuous of me to arrive uninvited and unannounced to His Grace's office and demand answers to which I'm not entitled." He paused in taking a second bite of rice, startled by the look on Charlaine's face. "What?"

  "You do recognize my tunic right?" Charlaine asked.

  "Of course—" Kamir stopped at the way Charlaine's face closed off, his eyes going cold and hard as he stared at something over Kamir's shoulder.

  A familiar, heavy hand landed on Kamir's shoulder in the same moment Charlaine stood, his chair scraping loudly on the marble floor, sword belt rattling. "Remove your hand."

  Kamir's mother gave a sharp, offended huff. "I beg your pardon."

  "Lady Tesly, remove your hand at once. I will not say it a third time."

  She kept her hand where it was. "I do not take orders from you, even if you are Fathoms Deep. I am entitled to speak with my son."

  Kamir tried to pull away, but his mother held firm—and before he could try harder, Charlaine closed the distance between them, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her hand away.

  "You should care I am Fathoms Deep," Charlaine said, still holding fast to her hand, staring at her with those hard eyes. "Only four people in all of Harken command me. I would think very hard, my lady, about who those four people are and the orders they might have given me that grant me the authority to tell you to remove yourself. My job is to keep Kamir safe from those who threaten him and his family—"

  "I am his family!" She snapped, struggling futilely to pull her hand free.

  "No, you're not," Charlaine said, and finally let her go. "You filed for disownment. That means you don't consider him family, that means I consider you a threat, and that means you will keep your distance. Disobey me again and I will see you jailed and fined by order of His Majesty the High King."

  Kamir was going to throw up. He braced one elbow on the table and rested his forehead in it, focusing on keeping his breathing slow and even.

  Unfortunately, when his mother wanted to say or do something, very little stopped her. "He just left court so quickly, I didn't have a chance to ask him if he'd heard from Lord Jader since that awful attack everyone has been talking about." She paused the way she always did right before striking the final blow. "They say he might yet succumb to his wounds."

  Kamir shoved back his chair, and fled the banquet hall. Pushing through the crowded hallway, he raced for the nearest wash room, where he promptly heaved up what little food he'd managed to eat before his mother's interruption.

  When his stomach finally ceased tormenting him, he washed out his mouth and wiped his eyes—then almost stayed right where he was, too mortified and sick to return to the stares and whispers of the palace after that horrible debacle.

  Had Jader really been badly injured? Why would someone attack him? He'd gone to Benta as a civilian, on a peaceful mission that was barely more than 'spend time with family.'

  Why hadn't anyone told him? Tears threatened again, but Kamir forced them back. He needed answers, and he wouldn't get them hiding in a wash room crying.

  A sudden rapping on the door made him jump. "Lord Kamir?"

  Giving a shaky laugh, Kamir opened the door. "I think after all you have endured from me and done for me, Sergeant, you can abandon formality."

  "Only if you do the same," Charlaine replied.

  Kamir nodded. "Thank you for defending me—for everything. I did not expect to enjoy having a bodyguard."

  "It's not usually a job I enjoy so much." Charlaine smiled. "Would you like to go speak with Lord Lesto now? I was trying to tell you, before your mother interrupted, that the fact you were given a Fathoms Deep soldier as your bodyguard is all the permission you need to speak with him whenever you want."

  "Was she telling the truth? About Jader being hurt? How could we not know something like that had happened?"

  Charlaine's mouth flattened. "I am fairly certain it's not common knowledge, and I'm interested to learn how she came by it. That is something I intend to discuss with His Grace. Shall we go see him?"

  Kamir nodded, and finally left the wash room entirely, some of his calm returning as he walked alongside Charlaine. He probably took more pleasure than he should in the way some people were careful to give them a wide berth, a practice swiftly echoed along the hallways as no one was willing to risk offending anyone in the company of Fathoms Deep.

  His nerves returned full measure, however, when they finally reached Lesto's office. His head secretary saw them and immediately rose and vanished into Lesto's office. Charlaine squeezed Kamir's arm reassuringly, and before Kamir could speak, the secretary returned. Bowing, she said, "Lord Lesto will see you."

  "Thank you," Kamir replied, and with a slight nudge from Charlaine, headed into Lesto's office.

  "Charlaine, close the door. Lord Kamir, have a seat. Would you like some tea? You look like you could use something stronger, but I doubt you'd accept it."

  "The tea would be most appreciated, thank you, Your Grace."

  Lesto poured him a cup of fragrant green tea flavored with ressberries, then resumed his seat behind the enormous desk that took up much of his office. "I was actually about to send for you, my lord. I am truly sorry I did not get to you before court gossip did. I would have sent for you much sooner, but I did not want to tell you anything until I had firm news, be it good or bad—and it is good."

  Kamir nodded, tried to still his shaking hands. "T-thank you, Your Grace. May I know what's happened?"

  "Of course." Pouring himself and Charlaine cups of wine, Lesto explained the attack in Benta, finishing with, "But we did not receive word until early this morning that Jader was alive and likely to stay that way. We received word just an hour ago that Captain tel Mendi is awake and likely to recover as well. Five of his men are dead, unfortunately, as well as Jader's secretaries."

  "I'm so sorry about Lady Krista and the rest of Jader's family," Kamir said quietly. "What is going to happen now?"

  "We are sending someone to discuss the matter with King Desmond. Who, I cannot say. That matter is being kept private for as long as possible."

  "Of course. Jader truly is recovering? He's not likely to relapse? What if they are attacked again?"

  "King Desmond has sent his personal force, Bitter Frost, to ensure that doesn't happen."

  "They can be trusted?"

  Lesto's smile was sharp and full of teeth. "Benta is one more mistake away from dragging us back into war. You can be assured that every soldier sent to protect Jader will do so if they want to live to see their homes ever again. Desmond does not want another war—Benta does not want another war, minus these fool outliers who do not know when to quit or even really understand what they're doing. Bitter Frost is not a force to be reckoned with; they can be trusted enough. Again, I apologize it took so long to bring you up to date, and that the matter was handled so poorly. I will do better going forward."

  "I am grateful to be told anything at all."

  "Jader would serve me my own balls if I dared not to keep you apprised, and I would never think to keep you unaware anyway. How are you doing, this rotten day aside?"

  "Well enough," Kamir replied, bewildered. He rested one hand on his stomach, finding that comforting where nothing else was. "I'll be glad when the trials are over."

  Lesto lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I understand some measure of your pain, having only recently finished all the legal hassle that goes with adopting two children—two Islander children. Even for someone as powerful and spoiled as me, the courts are a slow torture. Is there anything you need, my lord?"

  "What? No, thank you, Your Grace."

  He felt ho
pelessly stupid and selfish of a sudden, so focused on himself and convinced Jader hadn't wanted him anymore when this whole time Jader had been close to dead. Kamir swallowed. A thousand questions danced through his mind, but he could not voice any of them, afraid each would sound more selfish than the last and give too much away.

  "Letters right now are a tricky matter, as Jader and his retinue are traveling and the weather makes that difficult. But our diplomat is leaving in a couple of days; if you wanted to send a letter, or anything else, with them, bring it to me and I'll see it reaches him."

  Kamir looked up, but immediately looked away again at the understanding and sympathy in Lesto's eyes. "I appreciate the generosity, Your Grace. I know His Majesty would prefer I not communicate with the High Commander at all."

  "You've been calling him Jader all this time, you may as well continue to do so," Lesto said with a soft chuckle. "As to His Majesty, what he prefers is his friends and family happy, no matter how stupidly he occasionally goes about trying to ensure that. If he did not want you writing letters to Jader, you would not be writing them—and if he thought ill of you, it would not be one of the highest-ranking soldiers in Fathoms Deep serving as your bodyguard."

  "What—" Kamir jerked his head to look at Charlaine, who stared at Lesto's desk and rubbed a finger along the bridge of his nose. Kamir huffed. "You said you were a sergeant."

  Lesto laughed before Charlaine could reply. "Sergeant? Is that the ruse you went with, Charlaine?" He looked at Kamir. "This is Second Lieutenant Astor, third in command of Fathoms Deep."

  Kamir opened his mouth, closed it again, then said faintly, "I don't understand."

  Levity fading, Lesto leaned forward and held Kamir's gaze as he said, "A promise was made to Jader that you would be looked after and protected. We are keeping that promise, though I know we failed in many ways and I apologize for that. Even if that promise had not been made, none of us would stand by and ignore it as your family and ex-husband tried to take your children. I would have interfered a long time ago if I had thought that's what you'd wanted. But my impression has always been that you can take care of yourself."

  "Thank you," Kamir replied, still numb with shock. "And thank you again for letting me know about Jader. I will write a letter tonight and have it delivered to you tomorrow. Would a small gift be acceptable?"

  "Anything you want. There is no limit. If you want Jader to have it, he will have it."

  Kamir stood and bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace. As always, you are kind and generous to a fault."

  Charlaine laughed—and laughed harder at the quelling look Lesto cast him. He stood and led Kamir out, but lingered in the doorway. "I need to have a word with His Grace and then we can leave." He closed the door, and Kamir moved to sit in one of the chairs in the reception area, pulling out the book he'd brought along in case court dragged on longer than expected—which thankfully it hadn't.

  Several minutes later, Charlaine came out of Lesto's office, calling a cheerful, "Have a good day, Your Grace," over his shoulder. Kamir stood and they departed, Charlaine falling into place beside him as they headed through the halls and out of the palace.

  "Why did you lie?" Kamir asked as they walked along the road between the palace and the city.

  Charlaine shrugged. "You already looked pretty close to throwing me out, and I wasn't certain admitting I was high ranking would convince you to keep me. Lord Lesto trusted the duty to me and I was determined to see it through. I should have since admitted it, but there were already so many people lying to and using you, I hated to be one more. I am sorry. It wasn't done out of anything but an earnest desire to help, whatever that is worth."

  "I understand," Kamir said faintly. "I feel a bit like a fool not realizing. You seem like someone I should have recognized if you are the third most powerful person in Fathoms Deep."

  Laughing, Charlaine said, "No, it's the Captain and First Lieutenant everyone knows. I'm always off in the background doing the shit they don't have time for, which is usually unpleasant, thankless work." He smiled at Kamir. "This time proved an exception."

  "I'm glad," Kamir replied softly. "I have been grateful for your presence. It feels like you're wasting your time, but I suspect if you weren't here then Theoren or my parents would have tried something."

  "Like your mother did today?" Charlaine's mouth flattened, eyes going hard. "Hopefully she has been dealt with by now. I spoke with His Grace at length about the matter, and he said it would be made clear to her that she'd be wise to keep her distance."

  Kamir shook his head, still too bemused and overwhelmed by everything to know how to react or what to say.

  Thankfully it didn't take too long to get into and through the city. As ever, warmth and excitement spread through him at the sight of his home. His. He'd bought it, his name was on the papers, no one could take it from him without more trouble than doing so would be worth.

  As they drew closer he could hear Chiri and Chara playing in the courtyard, giggling and shrieking as they played one of their unfathomable games.

  They came to a halt as they saw him, bolting over to hug him.

  "How is the baby?" Chiri asked, as she did at least ten times a day ever since he'd told them the news shortly before his trip to Kyrmine.

  "Doing very well." Kamir bent to kiss the tops of their heads. "Did you behave for Bremm and Velina today?"

  They huffed in offense that he would even have to ask, and Chiri rambled off their whole day as they took his hands and walked across the courtyard into the house. Chara, as had become his habit, stole frequent glances at Charlaine.

  "Go wash up and we'll have a snack," Kamir said as they stepped inside the house. "I'm going to put my bag away and I'll meet you in the kitchen. No dawdling!"

  They would dawdle, likely get distracted playing in their room, forget what they were supposed to be doing and go back to the courtyard or into the garden.

  After they'd vanished from sight, he went down the opposite hall to his bedroom. It was big and beautiful, with a patio to the garden and plenty of light. Almost too much for one person, but he was enjoying the luxury of having so much space to himself.

  Setting his satchel on the trunk at the foot of the bed, he stripped off his coat, jacket, and wrap and went to wash off the city dust. Then he went into his dressing room and sat at the vanity, pulling down his elaborately arranged hair and weaving it into a simple braid. Shrugging into a plainer house jacket, he threaded through the house to the pair of rooms that had become his office and workshop. Ignoring the office for the moment, he stepped through to the workshop.

  He'd finished Jader's present only a couple of nights ago, after weeks of slowly working on it in his limited free time and between other projects. He was gifting it sooner than he'd planned, but with all that had happened… well, it was only a matter of days now before Jader learned about the baby and the imperial decree. Once that happened, Kamir doubted Jader would be interested in any gifts from him.

  So this was his only chance to bestow it. If Jader threw it away later… well, there was nothing he could do about that. At least the gift would have been given. Putting it back in its box and binding it with ribbon, then paper and twine for travel, he carried it into his office to compose a letter. Tomorrow he'd have a city runner take it to Lesto, and that would be that.

  At least Jader was alive and well—or at least, was healing and would be well.

  Looking out the window in the office, he smiled to see Chiri and Chara outside in the courtyard once more. Somehow, they'd managed to rope Charlaine into their favorite game—something involving stones and chalk circles. They'd tried to explain it to him a few times, but try as he might, the game remained incomprehensible. Charlaine appeared to be getting it though. If he wasn't careful, the children wouldn't permit him to return to his regular duties.

  Chuckling, Kamir sat at his desk, pulled out fresh paper and inked his pen… and then simply stared for several minutes, composing letters in his he
ad and immediately discarding them. What to say, what to say. Too much honesty would do as much harm as too much dishonesty… but Jader had almost died, and that thought would not stop drumming his heart and leaving him cold and afraid.

  Finally he started writing, slowly at first, and having to scrap his attempts and start over twice, but eventually the letter flowed and he ended with a sad, but pleased smile on his face.

  He rested both hands on his stomach, thinking about all the things he wished he could say—that somebody else would undoubtedly be saying very soon, but not remotely the way Kamir wanted to say them.

  At least the wondering and agonizing would finally be over.

  Reading the letter over one last time, he tucked it in the envelope and sealed it, then carried the package and letter to the front hall so he could have a runner take it away in the morning.

  "Come on you two," he called to his children. "I think there is still a snack wanting to be eaten."

  They abandoned their game and ran toward him, Chiri skipping ahead down the hall as they headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jader was really damned tired of sitting. The only thing keeping him in his chair was the fact that he would not risk his ankle further. He'd been assured by the healers his ankle would never be one hundred percent the same, but he could avoid a limp on all but the worst days if he coddled the damned thing now.

  At least the delegate from Harken would be arriving soon. No one had told him who the delegate was, which meant he probably wasn't going to like it, which meant it wasn't going to be Sarrica or Lesto, and he was terrified to think who it probably was.

  He wondered if they'd had to sedate Sarrica.

  Even rereading the letters from Kamir couldn't improve his mood anymore. The only bright spot, really, was spending lunch and occasionally dinner with King Desmond, who was surprisingly charming and pleasant—far, far removed from the rest of his deceased family.

  A knock came at the door and Jader called for them to enter. The Shattered Wind guard on duty bowed and said, "The ship has reached port, High Commander."