“Is that why you introduced me first?” she asked bluntly. “Before the royal visitors, I mean. It seemed a little…pointed.”
Rasad raised an eyebrow. “Were they offended?”
“No,” said Lucy slowly. “I don’t think they were. But they’re very relaxed for royalty, all three of them. And as you are evidently aware, they know Matheus and me extremely well. Still, I imagine they thought it was strange. Truthfully, I thought it was strange. Whatever you say about my situation, you know that I have no title. Elevating me and my brother seemed…out of place.”
Rasad chuckled. “Rank isn’t everything, Luciana, at least not here in Thorania. I have no noble title, but I don’t think my influence suffers for it. You’ll find that I’m fairly well respected.” He spoke mildly, but something in his tone told Lucy that his words were an extreme understatement.
“What is your position?” she asked, no longer caring if she was being too forthright. She should have done more to find out who Rasad really was before accepting his invitation, but it was better to do so now than not at all.
“I’m His Majesty’s primary advisor,” said Rasad smoothly, no hint of arrogance in his voice. “His chief consultant, you could say.”
“Is that an official role?” Lucy asked, impressed in spite of herself.
“It is.”
“But you have no noble blood?”
Rasad smiled. “None at all.” He glanced over at her. “I come from a well-respected family, one which has held a position of influence for generations, but there is no title attached to my estate.”
Just excessive wealth, Lucy guessed. But of course she kept the thought to herself as she studied her companion curiously. Rasad seemed perfectly comfortable as he spoke about his role and his family’s standing. If he secretly wished for a court title, there was no sign of it. But it wasn’t so difficult to understand, after all. From Lucy’s observation, wealth could be just as powerful a tool as rank. And for all his talk of no titles, Rasad had gained the formal role of primary advisor to the king, and at quite a young age. No wonder he hadn’t hesitated to extend an invitation to Lucy and Matheus to join the delegation.
She had been so engrossed in their conversation, Lucy had barely taken in her surroundings as they rode. The sun was climbing higher in the cloudless sky, and Lucy felt uncomfortably hot. She couldn’t help but glance enviously at the more climate-appropriate garments of the local women who sauntered past, looking relaxed and far more fresh than should be possible in such heat.
The street they were riding down opened ahead of them, and Lucy caught a glimpse of a beautiful square, with a fountain rising from its center. It took her a moment to recognize it as a market, because the clamor of the marketplaces they had ridden past on their way into Thirl was entirely absent. They weren’t far from the palace, and everywhere she looked there was evidence of wealth. Everyone seemed to be well dressed and at ease, not a single beggar to be seen.
“Is this an exclusive market?” she asked Rasad. “Just for the nobility or something?”
He chuckled. “Not formally. But I know what you mean. It doesn’t quite have the flavor of some of the more general markets. It’s not that the less wealthy are kept out by design, merely by circumstance. Only precious gems are sold in this particular square. Most of the city’s inhabitants have little interest in these stalls.”
“I see,” said Lucy. She suspected that it was not their lack of interest that kept them away so much as their lack of resources. She supposed that Rasad was just trying to say the same thing, only more diplomatically.
“Shall we have a look?” Rasad spread his hand out invitingly, and Lucy nodded.
She couldn’t politely decline, but she wasn’t especially interested. It wasn’t that the people wandering through the market were unhappy, but the whole scene was muted and cultivated. She couldn’t help but think longingly of the vibrant chaos of the other markets she’d glimpsed, or even of the marketplaces in Kynton. She had always loved wandering amidst the hubbub, watching people haggle and argue. It was one of the things she found most exciting about leaving her peaceful forest community to visit the bustling capital.
Jocelyn and Kincaid dismounted behind them, leaving their horses in the care of the servant who had accompanied them. Lucy explained the nature of the market to them as they began to wander between the stalls. Being royals, they were well trained in how to show polite interest in everything they saw, but Lucy couldn’t detect any real enthusiasm in either of them. She could only imagine that Kincaid especially was wondering why in the kingdom he had been dragged from his rest for such a mundane outing.
“Beautiful lady!” called a merchant winningly, his eyes unmistakably fixed on Lucy. “Such beauty requires no embellishment, to be sure, but should you want to add that subtle hint of elegance…” He trailed off, tilting his head suggestively toward his wares.
“No thank you,” said Lucy quickly, eager to move on before the man drew attention to her.
“But my dear, it would honor me if you would take a look. These amethysts would grace your lovely self to perfection.”
Lucy took a step closer in spite of herself. She had no real interest in buying jewelry—not to mention she didn’t have the funds—but she couldn’t resist getting a better look at the necklace he was displaying. There was no denying that it was beautiful, the purple stones sparkling flawlessly in their intricately crafted settings, suspended from a slender silver chain. There was also a bracelet to match, delicate leaves of pressed silver curling around the stones, and a pair of simple but elegant earrings.
“They’re lovely,” she said, stepping back quickly so that she was once again alongside Jocelyn. “But I’m not buying today.”
“My dear,” protested the salesman, his voice as smooth as glass. “It would be a crime to let this set—my best, you know—go to a buyer who wouldn’t do it justice the way your exquisite coloring would. For the pleasure of seeing it go to such an appropriate recipient, I would let it go for an excellent price.”
Lucy opened her mouth to protest, but a soft voice cut her off before she could speak.
“He’s right, you know. Those amethysts truly would suit you to perfection.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” said Lucy, in what she hoped was a tone of finality. “But I’m not looking to buy today.”
“I would be delighted to give them to you,” said Rasad, as if it was a small matter. “Such a gift would be a small repayment for you accepting my invitation to join me here in Thorania.”
“You’re very kind,” said Lucy, feeling a hint of real panic as Rasad waved a casual hand in some silent instruction to the merchant. She was painfully aware of Jocelyn shifting beside her, as if she was struggling to keep her thoughts to herself. “But I couldn’t possibly accept such a gift.”
“My dear Luciana, it’s no great—”
“I couldn’t possibly accept,” Lucy repeated, more firmly. She hoped he couldn’t tell how quickly her heart was racing. The idea of being given such a token by this man she barely knew—and in such a public setting—was horrifying.
“As you wish,” said Rasad with his usual calm. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
The merchant opened his mouth, clearly ready to protest, but at a look from Rasad he subsided, disappointed.
Lucy turned away from the stall, her heart still racing uncomfortably quickly. The fact that they had clearly attracted some attention after all did nothing to help. She linked arms with Jocelyn, trying to put some visual distance between herself and their host.
“Let’s look over there,” she said loudly, drawing Jocelyn away from the others. The princess made no objection, allowing herself to be pulled along. One of the Valorian guards broke off from the group to trail behind them. He looked only minimally watchful. It was such a controlled setting—Lucy imagined he would be much more on edge if they had ventured into the parts of the city she had actually wanted to see.
/> “I’m glad you said no,” said Jocelyn abruptly, pulling Lucy from her thoughts. “I would have been uncomfortable if he’d given you jewelry.”
“Not as uncomfortable as I would have been,” said Lucy tartly. “Of course I said no. Do you really think I’d even consider accepting such a gift?”
“No,” said Jocelyn. “Of course not.” But the assurance was unconvincing, and Lucy felt rattled. She thought her friend knew her better than that. But apparently Lucy couldn’t count on anything being as she knew it anymore.
“That’s a lovely fountain,” she said with an effort. She pulled her arm out of Jocelyn’s on the pretext of moving closer to examine the elaborate water feature.
“Luce…” said Jocelyn, clearly not fooled by Lucy’s nonchalance.
“It’s fine,” said Lucy quickly, unwilling to enter into a more personal discussion with the Valorian guard hovering so close.
She cast her eyes around, finding nothing of great interest amongst the ordered jewelry stalls. Her eyes were drawn to a walkway leading off one side of the square. The path itself was narrow and dark, high buildings on either side blocking out the harsh sunlight. But at the other end, she thought she could see catches of color, reminding her of the gauzy fabric that seemed to be widely used in Thirl for decoration and clothing alike. Once she focused her attention in that direction, she heard the faint sounds of a crowd. Perhaps the more interesting marketplaces of the city weren’t so far away after all.
“I wonder what’s down there,” she said, inclining her head toward the start of the walkway. “Want to have a look?”
“Sure,” said Jocelyn, but she cast an uncertain look back toward her husband. Following her gaze, Lucy saw that although Kincaid was talking to Rasad, his eyes were on the two girls.
Lucy barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Will he really be so worried if you leave his sight for five minutes?”
Jocelyn grimaced. “I know it’s silly, but he’s been jumpy ever since the attack on King Giles. It bothers him that we still don’t have a clue as to the guard’s motives, or whether he was working alone.”
“Yes, well.” Lucy gave a mirthless laugh. “I suppose that’s not totally unreasonable.”
“But it’s fine,” said Jocelyn quickly. “I have a guard with me, he has no reason to—”
“No, no.” Lucy cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Kincaid’s just about the only one in our whole group who isn’t mad at me for some reason or another. I don’t want to get on his bad side, too. Go see if he wants to come.”
“He will,” said Jocelyn with the ghost of a grin. She checked that Rasad was out of earshot before continuing in a lowered voice. “If we’re both bored out of our minds with this least interesting of all marketplaces, imagine how much he’s hating it.”
Lucy chuckled, but couldn’t resist giving her friend a pointed look. “Especially since the poor man was on the point of taking a nap when you dragged him out here totally unnecessarily.”
Jocelyn made no attempt to deny it. “Well, someone had to keep an eye on you and your elderly admirer,” she said airily, traipsing off before her spluttering friend could protest.
Robbed of the opportunity to point out either that Rasad was far from elderly or that she wasn’t interested in his admiration—she couldn’t decide which point was more offensive—Lucy rolled her eyes at her friend’s retreating back.
She didn’t wait for Jocelyn to return, heading straight for the walkway and its promise of respite from the heat. The relief was instantaneous as soon as she stepped into the shadow of the high walls. Kyona was warm enough in the summer, but she wasn’t used to this fierce sun.
Lucy glanced back toward the jewelry market. There was no sign of the others yet, but she thought she might as well wander on while waiting for them to catch up. The Valorian guard had naturally followed the princess, but Lucy wasn’t in the least nervous about wandering around alone. She had her weapon on her, of course, but she couldn’t imagine needing it in such a prosperous and orderly corner of the city.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when she heard a swift footstep behind her. She had only half turned, expecting to see Jocelyn hurrying to join her, when she felt the sudden pressure of a strong arm around her middle, trapping her arms in place and yanking her whole body backward until she was crushed against someone’s chest. She had barely taken all this in when she felt herself being dragged backward toward an alleyway she hadn’t even noticed before. Her gasp of surprise was lost as a hand covered her mouth, and a smooth voice spoke quietly right beside her ear.
“You’ll be coming along with me now.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lucy’s first thought was shock at the unexpected attack. The next, following swiftly after, was relief that Cody had pushed her to get back into her training. She wasn’t conscious of any fear as instinct kicked in.
She went still for the briefest moment, letting the man pull her along without resistance. Then she executed a sudden twist. It wasn’t enough to break the assailant’s hold, but it was enough to get one of her arms free.
One arm was all she needed.
In a smooth movement, she plunged her elbow into the man’s stomach, retrieving her dagger before the grunt of pain had left his lips. She spun out of his slackened grip, her weapon raised in front of her as she got her first look at her attacker.
He was not at all what she had expected, but she didn’t allow her surprise to distract her. She slashed her dagger toward him, not aiming to do any real harm, just wanting to show that she was serious.
But he didn’t allow himself to be distracted either. He had a blade of his own up before she could blink, and he threw her thrust off with such force that it took all her strength to keep her arm from being flung back completely. Undeterred, Lucy dropped into a fighting stance, sparing the briefest moment to curse her inconvenient skirts. At least she’d worn a simple dress.
The man advanced toward her, his eyes narrowed as they flicked from her blade to her determined expression. She gave him no opening. Lunging forward, she spun her dagger around, aiming to incapacitate the arm holding his knife.
The man brought his blade up only just in time, but Lucy didn’t let up. She continued to press him, the clang of metal on metal seeming to echo off the high stone walls on either side of them. He met her each time, but it was clearly taking his whole attention to defend. It wasn’t long before his breath was coming in pants.
Lucy’s breath was short as well, but she barely noticed. She was filled with the same elation that had taken over when she was dueling with Cody, but so much more potent now, in a real fight. She tried to keep her focus on each twist and lunge, but it was impossible not to feel a thrill of satisfaction at the realization that she was more skilled than her opponent. Probably lucky for her he wasn’t carrying a sword.
The man’s eyes were growing rounder with every passing moment, and Lucy couldn’t help but feel smug at the knowledge of how much she had surprised him. All of a sudden he fumbled, and it was all the opening Lucy needed. With a final surge, she engaged his blade one last time, sending it spinning with an expert flick.
She pressed her advantage, placing her blade instantly against his throat, forcing him to retreat until his back was against a stone wall.
“What do you want?” she demanded curtly, her breath coming in gasps.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he panted.
Lucy raised an eyebrow, directing a pointed look toward the man’s weapon, lying on the ground nearby.
“You pulled your blade first!” he protested, sounding less menacing and more sulky by the second.
Lucy snorted. “After you grabbed me and tried to forcibly pull me down a dark alley.”
“It’s not dar—”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Lucy spat, although she didn’t feel much like laughing. “Now answer my question. What do you want with me?”
“I just wanted to talk to you,” he grumb
led. “Find out what you know.”
Lucy blinked, more confused than ever. “What makes you think I know anything of interest to you?”
It was her captive’s turn to snort, although he followed it with a wince as it caused his throat to tighten against Lucy’s blade.
“Well you’re with Rasad, aren’t you?” he said rudely.
Lucy bristled. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘with’. But either way, I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
“Who are you?” the man said suddenly. “You weren’t supposed to be part of the delegation. Is it true that you’re half-Balenan and half-Kyonan?”
“What’s it to you?” Lucy demanded. “You’re the one who owes me answers.” Her eyes skimmed over his person, taking note of the affluence clearly displayed in his clothes and general air. He was older than her, but not by as much as she had at first supposed. Her gaze returned to his face, and she tightened her blade arm menacingly. “What do you care if I’m traveling with Rasad? Why did you attack me?”
He hesitated for a moment, looking suddenly even younger. “There were rumors,” he said at last. “About the coronation in Nohl. That it almost didn’t happen. I thought—” He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing as he searched her face. “You do know something!”
Lucy hastily raised her slackened arm again, chastising herself internally for her lapse. She had been unable to hide her surprise at his words. But she was saved the necessity of replying by the voice issuing faintly from the direction of the side street where the unknown man had grabbed her.
“Lucy?”
“Over here,” she called to Jocelyn, keeping her eyes fixed on her prisoner. “I’ve made a new friend.”
“Please, just let me go,” the man pleaded, looking suddenly alarmed. “I didn’t do you any harm in the end.”
Lucy snorted. “Not likely.” She glanced down the alley. She could hear footsteps, but Jocelyn wasn’t yet in sight. “Now what rumors did you hear?”
But the man clamped his mouth shut, a defiant look coming into his eyes. Lucy sighed, but before she could press the point, Jocelyn rounded the corner, freezing in astonishment at the sight before her. Kincaid, close at her side, also came to an abrupt halt, his hand flying instinctively to the hilt of his sword.
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