Cherished

by Christina Bauer

  Shujaa pointed his gauntleted hand in my direction. “Wren, take care of this!”

  Wren rounded on me. Tears streamed down her filthy face. She raised her right arm; the veins in her hand glowed red. My mind raced through all the waspy Caster counter spells she might try.

  Instead, there were no wasps involved at all. Red smoke curled around my feet. Wren was casting a transporter spell. I didn’t know where she was sending me, but I didn’t want to visit. I thought the word to activate my own totem ring from Tristan.

  “Transport.”

  A moment later, I found myself back in my chambers at Rowan’s castle. I wanted to race and find Rowan. Was he all right? I took a step toward the door, but my legs turned wobbly beneath me. My vision blurred as the intense need for sleep overwhelmed me. This wasn’t an effect of Shujaa’s this time. All the casting and transport had simply taken its toll.

  It was all I could do to collapse onto the bed and pass out.

  I awoke to the sound of Jicho calling my name. “Elea? Elea?” Sunlight streamed through the open windows. Long shadows crept across the floor. It must be late afternoon.

  The door rattled as Jicho knocked on it again. “Are you all right?”

  Sitting up, I yawned and rubbed my eyes. “I’m fine, Jicho. I was just very tired and slept in today.” I slid out of bed and adjusted my robe. There was no sign of dirt on the garment. It was like I hadn’t been at the Caster village last night. “You can come in, if you like.”

  The door swung open. Jicho stood on the threshold in his red robes. “Do you want a tour of the castle?”

  “I’d like to see Rowan.”

  “He’s not here today. Another village was attacked by Changed Ones last night. They killed all the guards and everything.” Jicho shivered. “Rowan went to check things out and look for any survivors.”

  “Is he safe and well?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. I saw him myself before he left.”

  “I can help him.” I strode over to one of the bureaus and pulled open the doors, hoping to find a pair of fresh Caster leathers. No matter what, I would never wear that yellow dress again.

  Jicho leaned against the doorframe and grinned his gap-toothed smile. “He said you’d say that.”

  I stopped. “Let me guess. He wants me to stay here where it’s safe. I should rest up and prepare for the engagement ceremony tonight.”

  Jicho let out a low whistle. “Are you a Seer?”

  “No, I just know your brother.”

  Jicho’s grin widened. “So, what do you say to that tour?”

  Now that I knew Rowan was safe and nowhere I could see him, my legs felt wobbly again. It had been a rough past few days. Still, I couldn’t pass up the chance to talk some more with Jicho. He gave me all sorts of information before without meaning to. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Jicho narrowed his eyes. “You look tired.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Rowan said that if you looked tired and still wanted to follow me around, then I should tell you something.”

  Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. “What?” Rowan was far too sneaky for his own good.

  “He’s cast an aegis on me. I can’t talk about things that give away secrets, even if I don’t mean to.”

  “Oh.”

  Jicho wagged his finger at me. “I told him every word of our talk yesterday. Rowan said you were playing Necromancer mind games. So I told him to cast an aegis on me. Now I can’t tell you anything, even by mistake. I can’t even—” The words stopped in his throat. A soft red light glowed on his tongue. He pointed at his mouth. “See? Isn’t it wonderful? Rowan’s the most powerful Caster in all our history.”

  My shoulders slumped. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “So, do you still want that tour? Remember, you can’t trick me today. It has to be a real tour.” Jicho bobbed a little on the balls of his feet. “And you look awfully sleepy. There are these big old bags around your eyes and everything.”

  I’d been found out and we both knew it.

  “Come to think of it, I am rather tired. I think I’ll rest today and go to the ceremony later. Will you accompany me there?”

  “I’m not old enough yet, and people might think we’re… You know.”

  “We’re what?”

  A little blush lightened his cheeks. “They might think we’re courting.”

  “Ah, I see.” He was so cute I wanted to pinch his cheeks.

  “But Philippe can take you there. And I’ll see you when you arrive and all. Rowan says you can be seen with Philippe since no one will believe he’s serious about courting anyone. Rowan would take you, but you don’t have…” Jicho screwed up his face like he was trying very hard to remember something. “An official standing in the Imperial family yet.”

  “I understand. Philippe will be fine to walk me to the engagement ceremony.”

  “Did you notice he said ‘yet?’ Because I noticed that he said ‘yet,’ and I also noticed that I can tell you he said ‘yet,’ which means that’s not affected by the aegis and he really wants you to know that.”

  In this moment, it was impossible not to smile at Jicho. “I noticed.”

  “Good news. Bye then.” Jicho slammed the door shut, and I heard the drumroll of his light footsteps racing down the hallway. I’m sure he had many things that he’d rather do today than give me tours of the castle.

  I stared down at my hand. My ring from Petra was still there. It still had a transport or two left in it, and you never knew when those would come in handy, so I kept it on. The ring from Tristan remained as well. I decided to stow that somewhere safe. It was used up, so when I had time, I could look into reloading it with more painless transfer spells. The magick would be easier to replicate than build from scratch. I might even try loading some other spells on there, too.

  I had a feeling that I’d need a lot more spells before this adventure was over. Shujaa didn’t strike me as the type to get punched in the face and forget about it.

  Chapter Twelve

  I stood inside my chamber, staring into a shiny stone that acted as my full-length mirror. For the last hour, I’d been sending away servants. All of them wanted to help me wash, dress, or otherwise get ready for tonight’s ceremony. As a Necromancer, I’d never needed anyone else’s help to dress, so I’d gotten ready solo. Any minute now, Philippe would stop by and escort me to the engagement event.

  If I were wise, I’d use this time to plan what questions I’d ask Philippe. I still needed more information. Unfortunately, I couldn’t focus on anything but my own reflection. I was dressed in the so-called gown that Rowan’s mother had chosen for me. Unfortunately, I’d had bathing togs that covered more skin.

  In fact, this outfit was so awful, I now felt guilty for all the terrible things I’d said about my banana dress. At least, that thing was an actual garment with seams and stitching. This Caster gown was nothing but two leather scraps tied around my chest and waist. That was it. No undergarments. No jewelry. And there was nowhere to hide my mating band, so I kept it hidden under my pillow. Not wearing that band really bothered me, and it bothered me that it bothered me, if that made sense.

  I worried my lower lip with my teeth. Why had Rowan’s mother chosen this particular gown? Did she want me to leave the mating band behind? If so, how could she have possibly known about it in the first place? I’d never told anyone about the specifics of our ceremony, not even Petra.

  I frowned. There was also the distinct possibility that Rowan’s mother was trying to embarrass me. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Be kind, Elea. Why was I ruling out the option that this dress was appropriate and Rowan’s mother was simply being thoughtful?

  Oh, yes. That’s right. Rowan’s mother was mean as a snake. She’d selected this gown with a motive. I just needed to figure out her scheme.

  A knock sounded. I pulled a light blanket off the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Who is it?”

  “Philippe.”
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  Exhaling with relief, I pulled the wooden door open. Philippe stood in the outer hallway, wearing his finest black velvet longcoat, breeches, and high boots. I waggled my finger at him. “Not fair! Why do you get to wear actual clothing?”

  He gave me a roguish grin. “What an odd way to start a conversation. May I enter?”

  “Please.” I stepped back and gripped the fuzzy blanket even more tightly. “Explain yourself. Why are you in a jacket?”

  Philippe shot me a pointed look. “I’m fine, Elea. Thank you so much for asking. I’ve been spending quality time with my sister and her evil harpy of a friend, Veronique.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to organize my thoughts. Philippe had a point. He hadn’t been getting letters from Amelia, which was why he’d crossed the continents to see her. All sorts of awful things could be at work here. I needed to set my wardrobe worries aside. “You’re quite right. How is Amelia?”

  “She’s in one of her more belligerent frames of mind. Veronique has been brainwashing her.”

  “Veronique? Really?”

  “She can be very convincing when she chooses.” An intense look flickered in Philippe’s eyes. I’d seen that same glimmer in Rowan’s gaze before. The look was somewhere between love and desire, but it was gone so quickly, I couldn’t know for certain. Philippe was once again his suave self. “Thanks to Veronique, my sister is now convinced that she needs a protector.”

  “Meaning Rowan.” I hated how that thought made my insides churn with jealousy.

  “Quite right. Amelia believes that she needs this marriage in order to be safe.” He raked his hand though his blond hair. “Honestly, it’s Veronique who wants the protector, and she’s barraging Amelia with lies in order to get one.”

  My eyes widened. “Veronique is trying to seduce Rowan?”

  “Heavens, no. The man’s far too noble for anything like that. On the contrary, Veronique is merely wise enough to realize that being the best friend of a Queen is a rather fine spot in society. Far better than a dungeon, for example. She’s just telling my sister what she needs to hear in order to become a belligerent and somewhat crazed brat on the subject.”

  I pictured how Veronique looked when I’d rescued her from the Vicomte’s dungeon. She was skeletally thin and covered in blood. People had gone through far less and done much worse to get a crown. “So what exactly has Veronique been telling your sister?”

  “That you knew who Rowan was all along, and by employing your womanly wiles, you seduced him away from his true love, Amelia.” Philippe frowned. “I’m afraid my sister is rather angry with you for betraying her.”

  “What? I have no womanly wiles.”

  Philippe rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it was a logical story. Did I mention that the two of them are rather insane and spending far too much time together?”

  “Even so, Amelia can’t be that crazy, can she?”

  Philippe winced. That wasn’t a good sign.

  My voice raised an octave. “Doesn’t she remember how I saved her life? Amelia was almost squashed by ta falling beam in the battle with Viktor. I pushed her out of the way and took the hit myself. If I hadn’t gotten magically healed, I could have died.”

  “Be that as it may, you and Rowan have genuine feelings for each other.”

  That was the truth, and it quieted my anger quickly. “So Amelia is convinced that I’m still trying to steal away Rowan’s heart and her safety net.”

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  I shook my head. “I still find that hard to believe. That’s not my Amelia.” She was one of the most independent people I knew.

  “But she’s been through a lot. And don’t forget, the Vicomte is dead.”

  “I remember.” I was the one who killed him.

  “Quite right. And although the man was a monster, the Vicomte spent an inordinate amount of time building up Amelia’s self-image only to squash it in the dust, over and over. His death is having a massive impact on her. She’s like a drowning woman grabbing on to anything to stay afloat.”

  A weight of sadness settled into my limbs. It was one thing to suspect that your dear friend hated you and was miserable to boot. It was quite another to have her brother confirm it. “Will either of them be at this ceremony tonight? I’d like a chance to explain myself face-to-face.”

  “No, that would necessitate them leaving their sanctuary of a tower. They’re both locking themselves in there until they achieve their aim.”

  “What are they doing? Planning the wedding?”

  “Not exactly. It seems that lover boy is stalling on setting a date.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but I was able to stop myself in time. After all, it was none of my business when Rowan and Amelia got married. I needed to change the subject. “In any case, thank you for accompanying me tonight.”

  “I was looking forward to it. However, I’m starting to wonder if the event is a costume party. How are you dressed under that blanket?”

  “It’s not a costume party. They merely gave me some…Odd things as garments.”

  “I’ve seen the things the ladies around here wear. Or don’t wear, as the case may be.”

  I peeped under my blanket. “So this is normal for Caster culture?”

  “Let me ask you one question.”

  “All right.”

  “Is your chest bare?”

  “No!”

  “Then whatever it is, it’s extremely conservative for Caster culture.”

  “You’re lying to me.”

  Philippe chuckled. “Would I lie about fashion?”

  I kicked at the floor with my sandal. “I suppose not.”

  Philippe stepped closer and tugged on the edge of the blanket. “May I please see this dress of yours? You know I’ll be honest.”

  “And if I look awful, what will we do then?”

  “I’ll say you’re sick and can’t attend.”

  “But I promised Rowan.”

  Philippe rolled his eyes once more. “Drop the blanket, Elea.”

  It took a force of will, but I let go of my grip on the fuzzy fabric. The blanket fell into a pool around my feet. Philippe’s face became unreadable.

  “So I look awful, don’t I?”

  “By the gods.” He stepped up and set his hands on my bare shoulders. The touch was warm and centering. “You’re even more lovely than before.”

  At that moment, the door flew open, and Veronique stomped into the room. To my surprise, she looked much recovered from the last time I’d seen her. In fact, she was almost perfectly back to the girl I’d first met on the wagon ride over to the Midnight Cloister: tall, willowy, and loud-mouthed. From her time in the Vicomte’s dungeons, only the barest hints of silver scars could be made out on her skin.

  Philippe tugged me against his side. “Why, hello, Vee. How shocking of you to leave your tower.”

  Veronique wore a blue gown that contrasted nicely with the red splotches that had just appeared on her cheeks. “I…You…Elea.”

  I debated stepping away from Philippe. After all, this was a lot of touching for a Necromancer. However, it seemed to be upsetting Veronique, so I stayed put and remained calm. “Greetings, Veronique. So nice to see you.”

  She rounded on Philippe. “You cad.”

  Philippe merely arched his brows. “Harpy.”

  I waved at her. “Remember me? The one who saved you from having your soul sucked out by the evil Vicomte? You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

  Veronique kept right on ignoring me and yelling at Philippe. “I see your evil plan. Amelia and I are going after the Caster King, so you’re pursuing the Tsarina.”

  I lifted my chin. “He’s not pursuing me.” Not really, anyway.

  “Ha!” Veronique turned to me, her voice rising to a screech. “Are you two betrothed?”

  Now, I’d seen Veronique throw her share of screaming fits over all sorts of things: the lack of silk sheets at the Cloister, the poor quality of me
als…The list went on and on. But I must admit, I did not see that question coming.

  “I’ll answer that.” Philippe pulled me even more tightly against his side. “Yes. We’re engaged.”

  Veronique’s eyes narrowed. “Betrothed or engaged? I know the difference, you liar.”

  The hair on my neck stood on end. Betrothed versus engaged?

  “What’s the difference?” I asked.

  Veronique glared at me. “Don’t play games.” She focused on Philippe. “If you’re betrothed, then where’s her ring?”

  “She lost it.” Philippe looked down on me indulgently. “Didn’t you, love?”

  Veronique’s pretty mouth thinned to an angry line. “You’re lying.”

  “And you’d know a lie,” retorted Philippe.

  In all the drama, I’d almost forgotten the question I needed to ask. Now, it came back to me with clarity. “You two said something about the difference between betrothed versus engaged. I’d like you to explain it to me. Now.”

  “You didn’t tell her?” Veronique grinned. “Philippe stayed with you for months, and yet, he didn’t tell you?” She tilted back her head and laughed. It took everything in me not to cast a bone melter spell on her right then and there. Veronique refocused on Philippe. “This is just like how you didn’t tell me about Mimi Sue La Fonte.”

  “Mimi Sue was a woman of loose morals. I was young and stupid. Can you blame a fellow?”

  Things were getting out of control again. I’d forgotten how tricky it was to manage Veronique when she was in a snit. “Enough, you two. What’s this betrothed versus engaged?”

  “Ask Amelia,” said Veronique. “She’s going to the engagement ceremony.”

  Philippe’s eyes lit with rage. “You allowed that?”

  “I tried to stop her. So did Kade. That’s why I came here to find you, so you could help us hold her in the tower. Your sister’s not stable, you know. And if she goes to that ceremony? I don’t know what will happen.” Veronique chewed her thumbnail. “She could snap.”

  Amelia having a breakdown? It was serious indeed. “Maybe I should go with you.”

  “Please, no!” Veronique gasped. “If she sees you now, she’ll crack for certain.”