by Katy Haye
My chest tightened. Right at the very end, as the prize slipped from my grasp, I understood how much I’d wanted it. Not just for mama’s sake, but for my own. I wanted a life bigger than the one I’d lived on the island. My jaw tightened. But it was not for me and I must accept that. Perhaps if I’d managed to gain evidence against Redmor...
Rannyl and I took our places at the foot of the table. Claresse was already seated, bandaged arm cradled to her chest, her gaze firm on the carved seat set at the head of the table, her lips upturned in a tiny, serene smile.
My heart lurched at her confidence. Claresse had played the game like a master. She had to know she was about to get her reward.
I stood between Rannyl and Claresse and looked straight ahead, forcing my gaze not to stray from the prince’s seat. Jaran wasn’t here yet, and I hoped he wouldn’t keep us waiting for long. I hoped he had already despatched a messenger to Senna to protect mama. My fists clenched.
Rannyl’s hand brushed mine. “Peace,” she murmured.
I lifted my chin and let my shoulders drop, but I didn’t attempt a reply. It was easy for her to counsel peace. I suspected I wouldn’t relax until I stepped back onto Senna island. Only there, away from the eyes of court, would I find peace.
The door banged. Jaran strode inside and my heart clenched painfully once more. He was handsome and kind and just; the best man I could have sought for a husband, and I’d thrown it away because I wasn’t strong enough to stand against my father.
He walked to his seat. My eyes followed him. The council members came into focus. Venner was the first I saw, hands clasped on the table before him, a smile like his sister’s playing around his lips.
On the prince’s other side as he reached his seat, Redmor turned his head to look straight at me. I jerked my gaze away. It was a good thing magic couldn’t be administered in a look, else I feared I would be dead on the spot.
Rather than sitting down, like his council, the prince flicked his hand and a servant moved the chair back. He stood at the head of the table and looked straight at us candidates for a long moment. Silence held. He glanced aside, meeting the gazes of each member of his council, his expression unreadable. Someone coughed and I twitched at the sudden noise.
Rannyl squeezed my hand again, hidden in the folds of our skirts.
Jaran cleared his throat. All attention was riveted on him. It was as though the rest of us forgot to breathe while we waited for him to announce his choice.
“Thank you for gathering, ladies and gentlemen.” He paused, taking a deep breath, but the silence held, tension in the room so thick I could almost feel it. “We have been together for a week now, and it feels as though we have travelled a long way in that time. I am, of course, disappointed that not all the candidates who arrived at the palace stand before me now.”
On my left, Lords Nayre and Firefort shifted uncomfortably. My own father stared straight ahead, his expression stony. I didn’t want my father disgraced, but it seemed to pile deceit on deceit to keep silent.
“However,” Jaran continued, “Although I have been disappointed by the actions of some of my subjects, that has been balanced by the deep pleasure I have taken in discovering the loyalty of others.”
On my right, Claresse sat up straighter, radiating satisfaction. I itched to slap her, although I knew my anger was as much at myself for my failure as her success.
“I am pleased,” Jaran said clearly, “To have complete faith in the candidate I have chosen. I know she will be loyal to me as my wife, and also to this great kingdom as Muirland’s princess.” His gaze swept the room. His sombre mood lifted. His eyes sparkled. “I hope you will all join me in putting any recent unpleasantness behind us and celebrating the future. My chosen bride – if she will have me – who I invite to become my wife and princess of Muirland, is ...” His gaze settled on me. I looked down, my throat full. “Lady Hanna Bal.”
Heat climbed through me. I had misheard. I must have done.
“No!” Claresse cried out, her skirts rustling as she turned to me. Oddly, it was the expression of fury on her face that persuaded me I hadn’t misheard. I looked up to meet Jaran’s calm gaze. He gave me a small nod of reassurance, but I couldn’t be reassured. This was wrong ... wasn’t it?
Rannyl squeezed my hand, pulling me back to myself. “You should thank him,” she hissed from the side of her mouth.
I sank into a curtsy. “I thank your highness, you do me great honour.” My heart beat hard, my thoughts whirling. I should turn him down. I couldn’t in good conscience accept. But when I met his warm gaze I couldn’t turn him down. This was everything I could have wished for.
“This is not right!” Claresse protested. She twisted, her gaze switching to Venner. “Brother?”
Venner rose from his seat. He cleared his throat. His expression was solemn, but I could see the eagerness sparkling in his eyes. “I regret to say, your highness, that my sister speaks the truth. I had hoped to keep the matter under wraps to ensure harmony in the council, but we have discovered that Lord Bal and his daughter planned to use magic to enchant you. Perhaps they have succeeded in influencing your decision today.”
Jaran stilled. “You suggest I am not in possession of my senses?”
Venner realised he had overreached himself. He coughed. “No, no, your highness. They were stopped before they could act.”
“And yet, you said nothing until now?”
The smug smile slid off Venner’s face. “I did not think it would be necessary to add to the ... unpleasantness, as you called it.”
I shivered at the expression on Jaran’s face. “You decided that I didn’t need to know about a plot against me?” His voice was low and cold and deadly. “Have you forgotten where your loyalties lie?”
“No, your highness. Forgive me. I should have spoken out.”
“Yes, you should.”
“It’s all lies!” My father rose, bracing his fists on the council table, leaning forward to glare at Venner. “Venner is desperate for his sister to be chosen, and so he attempts to besmirch me and my daughter. If he believes I have committed treason, then prove it!”
I couldn’t help it. My gaze darted to Redmor. He was sitting back in his seat, arms folded, watching the arguing men calmly.
Blood rushed in my ears. I had to speak out. If I were truly loyal to the prince and to Muirland, I had to own up to my part in matters to everyone – not just the prince. I opened my mouth.
And Rannyl shifted, her foot pressing carefully on mine. When I looked at her, she shook her head. “All will be well,” she murmured. “Trust the prince.”
My gaze flicked up to Jaran at the head of the table. He gave me another calm nod and turned to his council. “Do you have evidence, Venner?”
“Claresse confided that she saw Lord Bal with a bottle the same as that found on Jesca.” His gaze narrowed on Bal. “Search him. I am confident you will find it.”
“Outrageous!” Father roared, fists clenching as though he would fight Venner bodily over the matter. “I will not submit to a search like a common criminal. I have done nothing wrong.”
I wondered if he believed that in his heart. His words were both true and a lie. He had been prepared to commit treason – or to push me to do so. But the phial was missing. How could it have made its way from my drawer to him? I wondered why Venner and Claresse were so confident they knew what had happened.
“Come now. If you have nothing to hide, this matter can be resolved in a moment. Our only witnesses are your fellow council members, and I know they can be trusted to carry no tales beyond this room.” He cast a glance around the room, his expression firm, and gained a murmur of agreement from the lords.
Father folded his arms. “Very well.” He glared at Venner. “Your lies will soon be found out.”
My heart beat fast as the prince stepped forward. Rannyl slid her arm through mine, pressing close. Jaran plucked a pair of gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. Jaran – my husband
. Once more unreality rushed over me. He had chosen me. That couldn’t possibly be true. And perhaps he would change his mind if a phial of magic potion were found in father’s pockets.
Jaran reached into one pocket, then another. He stilled, and stepped back, turning to face the council. A tiny phial that I recognised far too well was held between his thumb and finger.
“No!” My father roared at the same moment the protest burst from my tongue.
30 – A Slippery Man
“Silence!”
My teeth snapped together when Jaran raised his voice above the outcry.
“I set a trap to test the candidates and their families. I was made aware of the phial before you were, Venner.” He glanced aside, “Lord Clofe?”
Rannyl’s father made his way from his place to the head of the table beside the prince, carrying something I couldn’t see from where I was.
“Rather than denounce the owner of the potion, I left it where it was, but coated it in a substance that would enable me to track who touched it.”
“What?” Venner didn’t look so confident now. “What magic is this?”
Jaran gave a tight smile. “A new magic, from Nordin. They call it science.” He accepted the thing Lord Clofe had been carrying and turned back to us. The thing was glass set in a frame, like the magnifying glass kept in the library of the house of compassion. “This contains special glass which will show up the tracking varnish. See.” He held the phial behind the glass. From its other side, I clearly saw bright red smears that hadn’t been visible a moment before. Murmurs around the room showed that it was clear for all to see. “Anyone who touched the phial once the varnish has been applied will have marks on their hands or their clothing. Lord Bal, show me your hands.”
Father stepped forward. He was frowning, but he accepted the prince’s orders. Tension gripped the room once more. The prince tilted the glass so father’s hands could be seen through it. There was no trace of red.
Father’s shoulders slumped. “There! I have nothing to do with this plot.”
“Lady Hanna?” Jaran turned to me. “Would you like to demonstrate your innocence in this matter?”
I felt all eyes on me as I made my way to Jaran’s side. His fingers were warm around my wrist as he lifted first one hand then the other for the council to observe my skin through the glass. I sighed with relief when my skin kept its usual, pale shade.
“How did the phial get into Lord Bal’s jacket?” Rannyl called.
My gaze snapped to her. Was she prompting me to confess my part in everything? But I hadn’t put the phial in father’s jacket.
“It must have been put there,” her father supplied. “But by whom?”
From my place by the prince, I saw Claresse clearly. Her shocked, pallid face was a sharp contrast to her appearance only moments earlier. For the first time, I felt sorry for her. My sympathy faded; it was her and her brother who had tried to trap my father, and I suspected they had trapped themselves instead.
“Venner?” Jaran gestured, a clear invitation for the lord to show his hands and be similarly absolved of blame – or not.
Venner took a step back. “You cannot suspect me, your highness. I acted in good faith on what Claresse told me.”
Claresse gasped as her brother tried to offload blame to her.
“I suspect everyone today, Venner,” Jaran stated calmly. “If you wish to retain your place on my council, you will allow your fellow council members to see your hands through the glass.” His gaze swept the room. “Everyone here will do so.”
Jaw clenched in resentment, Venner stepped forward. Smears were clear to see on his right hand. Clofe went next, his skin unchanged through the glass, as I’d expected. Claresse’s good hand was smudged with red. The rest of the council were found to be clear. Lords Nayre and Firefort were cleared of involvement in this matter, although their previous actions were already well known. Redmor was the last to go. His smug expression sent shivers up my spine. I took a step back so I wouldn’t get too close, and held my breath. This must be the trap the prince referred to. Destroying Redmor’s influence was the most important step for Jaran.
... And Redmor’s broad hands were clear of any trace of the tracking varnish.
Claresse gasped in alarm. She opened her mouth, then fell abruptly silent. I turned to Redmor in time to catch the look he’d sent to silence her before his expression blanked.
“Lady Claresse, do you have something to say?” Jaran asked.
She shook her head, lowering her gaze. “No, your highness.” Then she looked back up. “I regret my part in what has happened. It was foolish to think I could influence your decision – or that I had any right to attempt to do so. I beg your forgiveness.”
Jaran’s jaw tightened. I guessed he had hoped Claresse would say something else entirely.
Redmor was off the hook.
The prince looked up. “I am disappointed that I can trust so few members of my council. Bal and Venner, I will speak with you separately to get to the bottom of this matter.” He turned to Clofe, still standing at his shoulder. “Please will you escort your fellows to separate reception rooms?”
“As you wish, your highness.”
“Hanna, I would be grateful if you would stay for a few minutes. Everyone else, you are dismissed.”
Clofe was first to leave, with Venner and my father. Noises rang in my ears as the room cleared and the door shut behind Rannyl, the last to leave.
Jaran turned slowly to face me. His expression was unreadable. We were completely alone for the first time since the afternoon when I’d chosen not to use the potion. A small smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “I choose you, Hanna, but your answer was overshadowed. Will you have me?”
“I – I –” Tears thickened my throat, making it hard to speak. “You can’t truly want me,” I blurted.
A crease showed between his brows. “I truly do.” He sighed. “In truth, you are the only candidate left now that Claresse has dismissed herself.” His head tilted as he examined me. “But I will accept your rejection if the idea of marrying me is repellent to you.”
A laugh eclipsed my tears. “Repellent? That couldn’t ever be true! I don’t deserve this honour. I am no better than Claresse, or Venner.”
Jaran faced me. “You are working in league with Redmor?”
“Of course not!”
He took my hand. “I want you, Hanna. You are very different from Claresse. If you can’t see that, then I can. And I have to apologise.”
“Whatever for?”
“I didn’t tell you all the truth. When you confessed that you had lost the phial, I already knew where it was.”
“Yes. How did it get into my father’s possession? And what is that tracking stuff?”
“Your maid found it and brought it to me. I had it coated and returned. Under my instructions, the maid confided in Redmor what she’d found.” His fingers stroked my thumb. “I thought he might speak to your father. Instead, he must have told Venner.”
“I think he gave up on our family.” I couldn’t help the bitterness of my tone. “He has some hold over my father.”
“He has some hold on Venner and Claresse, too. Did you see that Claresse—”
“Yes! She looked as though she would speak out, and a single look from him silenced her.”
“He is a slippery man. I thought he would have touched the phial, but his hands were clear.”
“I will speak out, if you want me to.”
Jaran shook his head. “You have no evidence. He would destroy you, and weaken the crown in the process. I wouldn’t play into his hands, nor put you at risk.”
“So what happens now?”
“I will leave them to stew for a while, and then I will speak to Venner and your father. I hope fear for their positions might loosen their tongues and they will provide evidence against Redmor.”
“You can trust Clofe.” My voice was hollow. “Are you sure you don’t want to marry Rannyl?�
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“I would far sooner have you. If you will have me.” His fingers tightened on my hand. “You have been honest with me, Hanna. It is past time for me to do likewise.”
31 – With a Vengeance
He sounded so serious my heart misgave. “W-what do you mean?”
“My choice of bride wasn’t constrained only by the actions of my council. I need, above all else, a bride I can trust to keep my secrets. That is why I chose you.”
“I ... what secrets?” He had told me nothing of note during our afternoon together. I had no idea what he could mean.
“Can I trust you?”
Jaran’s tone changed, all his certainty vanished. The fingers of one hand flexed and released. He shifted jerkily, resting a hand on the top of the council table as though he needed support. Nervousness flowed off him like a river.
“Jaran, whatever is the matter? You can tell me, I promise.”
His gaze searched my face. He must have been reassured by what he found there, for he began to speak. “I need to tell you a little of my heritage. My mother has fae blood in her veins.”
That was ... unexpected, but hardly worth such agitation. I knew there was more Jaran needed to tell me. My heart beat slow and hard at watching the confident prince struggle to find the words to tell me. When the silence went on too long, I asked, “She has magic?” I could see how that might cause difficulties - but for herself, rather than Jaran.
“No. At least, if she does she has kept it hidden well. There is no sign in her, but fae magic has shown itself in both her children.” He looked up. “My sister Jurelle is a shifter, like the fae.”
I sucked in a breath. That was sensational news. “I see.”
He quirked a bitter smile.
“I would not tell anyone!” I assured him. Magic would put her in danger, princess or not; Redmor would ensure that. “But surely she is safe now she is in Surran?”