“We will of course prepare our port cities, but Ellaria has already proved herself quite resourceful,” Adar said.
“You want us to go to war? What’s in it for us?” Toran demanded.
“The survival of your Realm,” Jess said.
Toran opened his mouth, but his uncle gave him a placating look and he closed it, folding his arms over his chest and scowling at Jess. “We request that you grant us some time to consider your proposal,” Beland said. “We would like to discuss it with our councillors.”
“As would I,” Mahlia added.
“Very well,” Nishana said. “We will reconvene at this time tomorrow to open further negotiations. In the meantime, we propose an exchange of intelligence. Anything we learn of the goings on in Moritan will be made available to you, and we request you consider sharing information as well.”
“You will have it,” Mahlia said, rising from her seat.
“We will be glad to share as well,” Beland said.
“We thank you for your time and for honoring us with your presence here,” Adar told Mahlia, Beland, and Toran.
Mahlia sidled up to Jess as she left the chamber, pressing a small slip of parchment into Jess’s hand. Flashing her a brief smile, Mahlia slipped through the door. Jess palmed the note, wondering if she should share it with her parents and Dev’s, but she decided not to risk it. Mahlia clearly wanted to speak with Jess and Jess alone, so it would be best to wait until after she’d heard what Mahlia had to say.
Chapter 17
Boredom clawed at Dev, mingling with his frustration and driving him to the brink of madness. He’d never realized just how excruciating tedium could be. It was almost worse than the privation, than the extreme physical discomfort he suffered in his cold, damp cell. As he lay awake long into the night, dry, brittle straw poking every part of his body, his shivering never ceased, making it impossible to sleep. Apparently, Moritan hadn’t received notice that summer was approaching. He wondered if the weather had been this miserable the last time he had been to the Realm, but all he could remember was being with Jess, and it made his awareness of the ragged state of his emotions more acute. To distract himself, he took to harassing his guard.
“So, did you draw the short straw today?” Dev taunted, gripping the bars on his door and leering at his captor. He particularly enjoyed taunting this guard because he was so easy to annoy. The guard had a round, moon face that looked as if it belonged on a young child, and Dev never tired of reminding him of this.
“Quiet, you,” the guard growled, lobbing a heavy pewter mug Dev’s way. Dev stood unflinching and grinned as the mug hit the bottom part of the door, far off its mark.
“With beady little eyes like that, it hardly comes as a surprise that you can’t hit a simple target.”
“How about I come in there and teach you a lesson?” the guard threatened, rising from his seat.
Could he be that great an idiot?
Dev affected an expression of casual boredom, hoping the guard couldn’t tell that his heart was pounding. The man outweighed Dev by a good thirty pounds, but Dev had spent enough time observing him to know that the guard was thick and slow. Even without a weapon, Dev liked his odds.
And just where do you think you’ll go if you do manage to best the guard? Have you forgotten that you’re in a tower full of betrayers bent on overthrowing their king? Do you think they’ll treat you gently if you try to escape?
But Dev was beyond the point of caring. He’d had enough of his lack of control, enough of being Ellaria’s pawn. He doubted it would destroy her plans if he died but it would certainly put a crimp in them, and that was enough for Dev. Moreover, if she did kill him she’d no longer be able to use him as bait in her attempt to get at Jess. It wouldn’t stop Jess from trying to exact revenge, but it would keep her at a safer distance from Ellaria. Dev couldn’t bear to think of what Jess would risk if she believed there was even the slightest chance of rescuing him.
“What do ye think yer doin’?” a female guard asked as she strode through the archway. “I told Daryn yer unfit for guard duty.”
Dev’s guard turned his ire on the other guard. “Who you callin’ unfit?”
“You, ye half-wit,” she replied. Her hand a blur, she cuffed the other guard, making Dev snort. Neither of them seemed to notice, though.
“You’ll pay for that,” Dev’s guard hissed.
“Doubtful,” the woman said, glaring at him. “Ye didn’t even see it comin’. I’m not losin’ any sleep over ye.”
“What do you want?”
“Her Majesty is comin’. She’s a dose for the prisoner, and I’m meant to help ye restrain him.”
“Her Majesty? Are you referring to that traitor as if she’s a queen?” Dev called.
The female guard appeared in front of his window with alarming rapidity. “I’d suggest ye keep yer opinions to yerself,” she said, her voice soft as she smiled a horrible smile at him. “After all, I reckon ye can survive without all o’ yer limbs. Maybe I’ll start with one of them pretty eyes. I bet that would look nice floatin’ in a jar.”
“Now, now. Is that any way to treat our guest?” Ellaria asked. Despite her rough leathers, it was obvious she was a woman of power. She carried herself with a regal air that had a visible effect on her lackeys.
“Forgive me, Yer Majesty,” the female said, taking a knee before Ellaria, her head bowed. Ellaria gestured for her to rise, motioning that she should open the door, and the guard hastened to obey. Dev moved away from the door as Ellaria and her guards stepped inside. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms over his chest and draped his right ankle over his left, his expression bored.
“It’s quite all right, Maelyn,” Ellaria said, examining Dev as if he were a disobedient animal. “I know how very provoking this one can be. If you’re going to take any part of him, though, might I suggest his tongue? Then none of us would be forced to listen to him any longer.”
Maelyn grinned. “It’d be my pleasure. Ye need only say the word, Yer Majesty.”
Ellaria looked as if she were mulling the question over, and Dev pulled his arms tighter against his chest in an unconscious gesture of self-protection. He knew enough to take the threat seriously and, though he was determined not to let Ellaria terrorize him, he couldn’t prevent the shiver of fear that peppered his skin with gooseflesh.
“Tired of playing queen of this sorry piece of rock?” Dev asked, trying his best to sound bland, hoping she couldn’t hear the tremor in his voice. “You’d best get used to it. You’ll never be queen of anything more.”
A flash of anger went through Ellaria’s eyes before she smoothed her features. “I’ll take pleasure in emphatically proving you wrong.”
“I’ll see your head on a pike,” Dev hissed. “You can join your traitor father in an ignoble death.”
He felt a sharp, stinging pain as she flew across the cell, attacking him with her long, pointed nails. Gasping, he touched a hand to his cheek, feeling gouges where she’d torn the flesh from his face.
“Look at that. You made me get messy,” she said, studying her bloodied hand. “You know, you really are tiresome. I think now is a good time for you to take a little nap.”
Lifting his filthy sleeve to his face, Dev mopped away the blood pooling on his cheek. “Is that how you keep your lackeys in line too? By drugging them? It would explain a lot.”
“They follow me because they know I am their rightful queen,” she said, smiling like a cat. The worshipful expressions on her guards’ faces suggested she wasn’t just blowing smoke. Raising her hand, she make a quick gesture and the sweet-faced young maid who’d brought Dev’s blankets joined them, handing Ellaria a vial. “Time to sleep, sweet prince.”
Dev managed to get in a few good blows before the two guards slammed him to the floor, pinning him down. Their knees and elbows dug into him, but still he fought, thrashing his head around, refusing to swallow the contents of the vial. Impatiently Ellaria gestured to
the maid, who dropped to the floor above Dev’s head, clamping it between her knees. Ellaria yanked his mouth open so hard his jaw popped, and he gasped against the pain, choking as she poured the liquid down his throat. For a panicked moment he felt as if he were drowning, then he had no choice but to swallow, succumbing to the blackness almost immediately.
He was back in Fostan, dressed in a ridiculous costume of velvets and silks, the colors lurid. When he’d refused to see the tailor, his mother had commissioned the clothing herself, instructing the tailor to use a set of measurements for leathers Dev had ordered two months prior.
“Don’t you look handsome?” she cooed as she sailed into his chamber. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was delighted to have bested him in this battle of the wills.
“You can’t be serious, Mother. You want the crown prince of Estoria to appear dressed in this ridiculous fashion?” he growled at his mother as she examined him, clasping her hands with an expression of delight.
“If you cared about fashion, perhaps the court might pay attention to your preferences,” she offered in a dry voice.
“Come now, dearest Mother. Surely you don’t wish for a dandy of a son.” Dev planted a fist on his left hip, striking a pose.
She tried to maintain a straight face but failed quite spectacularly. “Better than a jester for a son.” Even though she was shorter than him, she somehow managed to give the impression of looking down at him, her nose wrinkled in disapproval.
“At least I’m good for a laugh. Oh, wait, so is most of the court.” He heaved a sigh. “There goes my one and only advantage.”
Nishana gave her son a severe look. “You should not say such things about the court.”
“I’m just saying what we all think,” Dev said, pacing the chamber restlessly.
“Life is not a joke, my dear. While I love that you make me smile, I do wish you would try to understand that some things are worthy of being taken seriously.”
“We both know Tanvir is the serious one.”
“Perhaps you should take a page from his book from time to time.”
“Now who’s the jester? If I were to take any pages from his book, he would have an apoplectic fit.”
The queen threw her hands up. “Devaran—”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, wanting to placate her before things spiraled into an actual argument. He wasn’t entirely serious, but there was enough seriousness to his words that he knew he’d soon earn himself a long lecture about his duty as the future king.
“Dev is sorry about something? What else is new?” Tanvir asked from the doorway, and Dev turned to look at his brother.
Well, at least one of us doesn’t look like an overstuffed peacock, Dev thought, trying not to scowl.
Despite that he was fifteen to Dev’s nineteen, his brother, who had once been small and scrawny in comparison, had begun to outpace his elder brother. Though Dev still had a height advantage, Tanvir had begun to fill out in a way Dev knew he never would. Dev was compact, his body well-muscled but lean, whereas Tanvir seemed to get broader in the shoulders and chest with each day that passed. Their daily sparring sessions proved that while Dev was faster and lighter on his feet, Tanvir was the stronger of the two brothers, and the force of his blows often made Dev’s arms ache for hours.
As if the physical disparity wasn’t enough to embarrass Dev, Tanvir was also exceedingly handsome, and the women of the court had taken note. Dev had seen their wistful expressions as the oblivious Tanvir walked about the castle, and he had heard them whispering about Tanvir’s thick, wavy black hair, his dark eyes, his chiseled features. He had even overheard one of his mother’s maids sighing over what she referred to as Tanvir’s seductive mouth. It wasn’t that Dev was hideous; he hadn’t failed to notice that his own boyish looks could sometimes turn heads. But there was no doubt who the ladies preferred, and it made Dev wish his tooth wasn’t chipped, that his nose didn’t have such a noticeable bump on the bridge.
And why does Tanvir look so good in his ridiculous costume while mine makes me look like a plucked chicken?
“You’re both so handsome,” Nishana said, beaming with pride at her two sons while pointedly ignoring Tanvir’s comment.
“And you’re stunning, Mother,” Tanvir said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
His compliment made her preen, and a petty part of Dev wished he’d been the one to deliver it. Unlike him, Tanvir always knew just what to say to earn their mother’s approval.
“Let’s get this hateful ball over with,” Dev sighed.
“You hate anything that reminds you of your obligations as heir to the throne,” she said irritably.
“Ah, obligation. Have you heard the latest ditty, Mother? It’s a wonderful song about obligation, and—”
“You wrote it yourself,” she interrupted, her forehead creasing as she frowned. “Were you so foolish as to think I wouldn’t recognize your handiwork?” He hadn’t thought she would, so he stared at her in astonishment. “Devaran,” she sighed. “I love you, but you try my patience.”
“It’s what I do best,” he said with a winning smile, rallying.
“Yes, that is quite true.” She sounded exasperated, and he smiled even more winningly at her. “Need I remind you that the king and queen of Lyrane will be here, and they’re bringing Princess Jessmyn? I expect you to—”
“I know, I know,” Dev sighed. “You want me to dance with her, and I will. I haven’t forgotten protocol, Mother.”
“Miracles are possible, it seems,” she replied, widening her eyes.
He let go of his bad mood and smiled at her. “See? I do listen to you—on occasion.”
Frowning, she tweaked his ear, not hard enough to cause him any real pain, but he howled in protest anyway and made a show of rubbing his ear.
“Come along, now. Your father is waiting for us,” the queen said, leveling a stern gaze at Dev, but not quite succeeding at concealing her smile.
Chapter 18
Safely back in her chambers, Jess opened the note Mahlia had passed her, her fingers clumsy with impatience as she fumbled with the tiny slip of parchment.
Meet me in the gardens in one hour.
Jess wondered again if she ought to talk to her parents about it, but once again she pushed it from her mind. While a cooler, more logical part of her knew that the pain of Dev’s disappearance wasn’t hers alone to hoard, another part of her rejected the notion. So few things belonged to Jess. It didn’t matter how many possessions she had, how large her palace. She knew she was fortunate to have those things, and she was grateful for them. But choosing to love Dev, promising to be his wife, had been one of the few truly selfish decisions she’d ever been able to make, and it gave her the sense that the two of them belonged to one another in a way that was private, special.
Dev’s company had always been enjoyable to her but she had thought of him as her fun, amusing friend and nothing more until, one day, she saw him in a completely different light. When she looked at her past behavior toward him, she acknowledged the truth that she, like most others, had once misjudged Dev. It wouldn’t have occurred to her younger self to think of him as someone with whom she’d want to spend the rest of her life because she’d thought him fickle, too fond of having a good time to deal with the serious issues of life.
What she hadn’t realized was she had been falling in love with him all along, she just hadn’t been able to see it. Trust was something that could not be lightly given when someone was in the position Jess was in, and Dev was one of the few people she trusted. She had always known she could depend on him to keep her secrets, to have her best interests at heart. There was nothing she couldn’t share with him, no need to maintain a façade of perfection when she was with him. She knew he loved her flaws and her quirks, the things that made her wince and want to better herself, and she felt the same about him. It was precisely because he excelled at finding the humor in life, at living life to the fullest, th
at she loved him, and it grieved her that she’d once mistakenly thought this meant Dev lacked substance.
They had been children together, had grown to be young adults together, and Jess wanted to grow old with him. She could go on without him, but it would be existing, not living. If something were to happen to him, all song would cease and she would be forced to live out her life in silence. So even if it was ill-advised to be making convert deals with Mahlia, Jess would make them if it meant she could be with Dev again.
Jess had plenty to keep her occupied during the hour before her meeting with Mahlia, and she threw herself into drawing up training schedules and making rosters of her troops. When it was finally time, she hurried outside. It shouldn’t strike anyone as unusual for Jess and Mahlia to run into one another in the gardens, and Jess had learned that the best way to keep a secret was to act as if there was no secret to be kept.
“Hello, Mahlia,” Jess said when her path and Mahlia’s crossed. “The gardens are lovely, aren’t they?”
“Indeed they are,” Mahlia replied. “Would you care to take a stroll with me?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
The two women walked a bit, waiting until they were a little farther away from the bustling manor. Several others were out in the gardens, so they would have to keep their voices low, but Jess felt confident that the presence of others would provide them with good cover. If it looked as though they were sneaking around, people would be far more likely to talk.
“I know time is of the essence, so I won’t play games with you,” Mahlia said.
“Do you have information for me?”
“Nothing you don’t already know. What I do have are troops—quite a few of them, in fact.”
“And what do you require in order to place them at my disposal?” Jess asked.
Mahlia smiled. “Straight to the heart of the matter. That is why I like you, Jess, why I wanted to speak with you directly. No doubt you’ve heard plenty about the tension between Deshira and Corland.”
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