“Trust me, Rasad’s behind it,” Lucy cut him off grimly. She turned to Matheus, realizing he’d been asleep when Rasad told her about his plot against the newly married couple. As concisely as she could, she recounted the little she knew. She could feel Eamon’s growing fury beside her, but she was fully focused on the problem now, no space in her mind for anger about the advisor’s villainy.
“Tell Joss all of that,” she finished. Matheus looked slightly ill at the suggestion that he raise the topic of Jocelyn’s marriage with the princess, and Lucy’s eyes flicked to Cody. He gave a curt nod, and she was satisfied. Cody wouldn’t dodge the delicate conversation.
Eamon nodded too, his eyes fixed unseeingly on the sandy peaks before him. “It won’t have occurred to her to look for magic,” he mused. “But I have a feeling that once it’s named, it will lift the veil from her eyes. She’ll be much more able to fight it when she sees it for what it is.”
“Let’s hope so,” Lucy said shortly. She gripped her brother’s good arm. “Be careful, Matheus. Don’t get yourself killed.” She glanced up at Cody. “You either.”
“Likewise,” he said, with his usual lack of emotion. “If I can, I’ll follow you to Nohl. It just depends what we find in Thirl.”
Lucy nodded, already turning away. If only Cody was likely to be the only one chasing them toward Nohl. She would like to think Lady Yasmin would be successful in influencing her sovereign, but she had a feeling King Abner’s troops would be at the border by nightfall.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I think I hear the river ahead.”
Lucy nodded, the anxiety within her mirroring that in Eamon’s voice. They had ridden hard for hours, stopping only briefly to make use of the water skins and basic rations conveniently stashed in the saddlebags of their borrowed horses.
The growing moisture in the air alerted her to their progress as much as the changing landscape. They would be at the border soon, and they still hadn’t seen any sign of Lord Yosef. Lady Yasmin hadn’t even attempted to describe the location of the ford to them, and they had no hope of finding it without the Thoranian nobleman’s help.
“I’m trying not to think about what might have delayed him,” she said grimly, her thoughts on their own people still in Thirl. But before Eamon could answer, Lucy’s ears pricked up at the sound they’d been listening for. Hoof beats, approaching from the south.
“Sounds like more than one horse,” said Eamon. “We should take cover, just in case.”
They’d been riding through slowly thickening jungle for some time, and they retreated hastily deeper into the trees. The foliage wasn’t yet dense, like the jungle surrounding Nohl, but they still couldn’t see the riders until they were almost alongside them. When they came into sight at last, Lucy started forward with a cry.
“Cody!”
The two horsemen pulled up sharply, and Lucy and Eamon urged their mounts forward.
“What are you doing here?”
“I said I would try to follow you,” said Cody with a shrug.
“I didn’t think you meant so soon!”
Cody exchanged a glance with his companion. “Neither did I, but when I reached Thirl to find that Yosef still hadn’t left, I changed plan.”
“Where’s Matheus?” asked Lucy.
“With Princess Jocelyn and Prince Kincaid.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow, and Cody grimaced. “They’re all being more or less held captive by Lord and Lady Rodanthe. You were right that they weren’t happy when they heard what was happening. I had to…be creative about getting away to join Yosef.”
“What delayed you?” Eamon asked the Thoranian.
Lord Yosef grimaced. “It wasn’t easy to get out of the capital and across the main highway unobserved. Not with the troops marching out.”
It was exactly what she’d expected, but Lucy’s heart seemed to drop into her stomach nonetheless. “So King Abner gave the order?”
The young nobleman nodded. “When we left, my sister was still determined to talk him down, but I don’t think there’s much hope. His mind is set. I still can hardly understand it. He’s not angry, and he doesn’t seem unreasonable, until you hear what he’s saying. I think he genuinely believes he’s making a wise decision, although his reasons make no sense. It’s like he’s still himself, but his opinions have been…”
“Commandeered,” said Eamon grimly. He and Lucy exchanged a glance.
“We’ve seen it before,” she said. “And no amount of reasonable argument is going to change his mind. How long until the army reaches the border?”
“They’ll be there before dark,” said Lord Yosef.
Lucy steeled herself, hoping desperately that the man Rasad had sent on ahead hadn’t already done anything permanent.
“Then there’s no time to waste.”
Lucy stared up at the walls of Nohl, relief warring with exhaustion inside her. She only hoped they weren’t already too late. She still wished they could have ridden through the night, but it was simply not possible in such thick jungle. It was a good thing Cody was with them, as even Lord Yosef didn’t have any experience with spending a night in the open in that kind of terrain.
The few hours of uneasy sleep hadn’t done much to make the day of hard travel easier, and the time had felt endless as they pushed through the jungle. They emerged back onto the main road only when they were confident they were well ahead of the scouts Rasad would surely have sent in advance of his force.
But they were here at last, and Lucy could barely restrain her impatience as the guard on duty grilled Eamon suspiciously about their unexpected return. She made no attempt to intervene, well aware that in spite of her connection to the Balenan royal family, her status in Nohl was questionable. As a foreign prince, Eamon at least had some credibility.
It probably helped that he was dressed in costly clothes that he’d only been wearing for a couple of days. Lucy was still in the training gear she’d donned when she and Matheus went to practice their archery at Rasad’s Bastion, a lifetime ago.
Finally the man let them through, and they crossed the city within minutes, pushing their weary horses for one final stretch.
Lucy didn’t wait for an invitation, falling from the saddle the moment they reached the castle courtyard and racing through the entryway. She ignored the scandalized looks she received as she ran toward the royal family’s private wing, the others close behind her.
“Halt!”
She drew up in frustration as she was hailed by one of the guards outside the dowager queen’s private suite.
“I need to see Her Majesty,” Lucy demanded. “Urgently.”
“That’s not going to happen,” the guard said flatly.
Lucy opened her mouth to argue, but she was interrupted by an astonished voice.
“Luciana?”
She turned with relief to see the dowager queen approaching down the corridor, a lady-in-waiting at her side.
“Heavens, child!” Lucy’s great aunt looked from one disheveled traveler to the other, her eyes wide. “Are you all right? How did you come to be back in Nohl?”
“Aunt Mariska,” said Lucy, hurrying forward. “We’ve come to warn King Giles of a plot against him, and there’s no time to waste. Where is he?”
“A plot against my son?” the older woman repeated, a sharp edge replacing her bewilderment. “Another one?”
Lucy barely restrained a grimace at the way the dowager queen’s eyes flicked to Eamon as she spoke. She had forgotten when bringing Eamon on this mission that it had been his guard who had almost taken King Giles’s life last time.
“Not exactly,” she said, conscious of the listening guards, and the lady-in-waiting. “It’s part of the same one, and I can explain it all, but we can’t afford to delay.”
To her relief, her great aunt nodded briskly, gesturing for the travelers to follow her as she turned away from her rooms. She led them swiftly through the corridors, not saying a word until they reached
an elaborately carved wooden door. She paused outside it, frowning at the two guards standing sentry.
“I thought he was here, meeting with some of his advisors, but there aren’t enough guards.” She directed her question to one of the men flanking the doorway. “Is the king still inside?”
“No, Your Majesty,” said the guard, standing to attention. “King Giles left a short time ago.”
Lucy’s heart picked up speed, some sense warning her that the guard didn’t mean King Giles was simply elsewhere in the castle.
“Where is he?” she demanded. “Did he ride out into the jungle?”
The guard gave her a disapproving look, but didn’t dare ignore her question altogether, not with the dowager queen looking at him expectantly.
“I don’t know where he went, Your Majesty,” he said, directing his answer to the older woman. “But the advisors are still inside.”
“We will ask them,” said Lucy’s great aunt, and the guards hastened to open the doors for her.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Eamon into Lucy’s ear. She gave a tight nod, but didn’t respond, hurrying to follow Aunt Mariska into the room.
They were greeted by the sight of half a dozen men, grouped around a polished table. They hastened to their feet at the sight of the visitors, bowing to the dowager queen.
“Your Majesty,” one of them exclaimed, his eyes traveling to Eamon. “Your Highness.” The man’s expression turned from bewildered to scandalized as it passed to Lucy, attired in her training gear. He clearly recognized both her and Cody from their previous visit, but apparently they didn’t merit a personal greeting. Lord Yosef he regarded with evident confusion before turning back to the dowager queen. “Is anything amiss, Your Majesty? Can we be of assistance?”
“My Lords.” Lucy’s great aunt nodded to everyone present. “We need to speak with the king urgently. Where is my son?”
“He left the castle a short time ago,” said the spokesman. “He was called away by urgent business.”
“What business?” Lucy demanded, exchanging a look of alarm with Eamon.
The nobleman remained silent, his expression slightly sour. Looking between him and her great niece, the dowager queen interjected impatiently.
“You can speak freely in front of our guests. Where has my son gone?”
“To the logging camp. A messenger came, reporting a disturbance.”
Cody let out an audible breath. “We’re too late, then,” he said grimly.
But Lucy wasn’t giving up so easily. “Maybe not.” She turned to the local nobleman. “How long ago did he leave?” The man simply raised an eyebrow, and she made an impatient noise in her throat. “There isn’t a moment to waste—King Giles’s life is in danger!”
“I hardly think you’re qualified to make such a judgment,” said the man disdainfully, his gaze traveling up and down her person. “However much you might imagine yourself to be some kind of guard.”
Eamon shook his head in disbelief. “This woman has come to you at her own peril to warn you of a plot against your king, and all you can think about is her attire?”
“I mean no offense to the customs considered acceptable in your kingdom, Your Highness,” said the nobleman, in a tone that nevertheless managed to be offensive. “Of course any credible report of danger to our king would be taken seriously by every man in this room. In any event, His Majesty has his royal guards with him.”
“I don’t have the time or patience for this,” interrupted the dowager queen. “I have lost my husband—I will not take any risk, however small, of also losing my son. Everyone in this room is aware that an attempt was recently made on the king’s life.”
“By his guard,” cut in another nobleman, tilting his head toward Eamon. “If we seem unconcerned, Your Majesty, it’s because the most likely threats to the king are currently contained within this room.”
The Balenan nobleman may only have mentioned Eamon’s guard, but it was clear as his eyes flicked between Lucy—daughter of the treasonous resistance leader—and Cody—potentially embittered former slave—that the prince wasn’t the only one the advisors mistrusted.
Lucy tried to remind herself that after her mother’s secrets, the men had some reason to treat her with suspicion. “I tell you, we’re no threat to King Giles,” she said earnestly. “We’ve come to warn him,” she cast her eyes around the room, “and all of you, of an impending attack. There’s a plot to assassinate King Giles, to weaken the country for invasion. Even now Thoranian troops are massing at your border, waiting only for confirmation of the king’s death to march across. Someone needs to go after the king immediately, and in his absence, you need to give the order to close the city and prepare for attack.”
The advisors exchanged looks of amusement, and Lucy ground her teeth in frustration. She knew she was moving much too quickly, but there wasn’t time for diplomacy.
“She’s telling the truth,” said Eamon firmly, and the Balenans stilled, their expressions becoming more serious as they listened. “You’re all in danger, and there’s no time to waste.”
The men exchanged uneasy glances, and Lucy felt an equal mixture of relief and irritation. Eamon’s words rang with authority, and she felt the call to urgent action herself. But it was annoying that they had ignored her and listened to Eamon. Why was it so much more convincing when he said it, even to her own ears?
All of a sudden, she realized why, and she wanted to kick herself. Of course Eamon should use his power to convince them. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?
“I understand that in Kyona things work differently, Your Highness,” said the first nobleman, speaking more cautiously now. “But here, in order to give such drastic instructions in the king’s absence, we require more substantial evidence than accusations by some girl, who in addition to having no rank or formal role in your delegation, has shown by her behavior that she is not fit to—”
“Be careful how you finish that sentence,” interrupted Eamon, a dangerous edge to his voice. “If your king seeks friendly relations with Kyona, he won’t thank you for damaging any chance of an alliance by speaking disrespectfully of our kingdom’s future queen.”
Eamon’s words were met with a prolonged moment of silence as everyone, Lucy included, blinked in surprise. Lucy felt her cheeks heating, but a glance at Eamon soon brought her back to reality. He was glaring at the nobleman, distracted from the point when they had no time for distractions.
“I know our claim seems sudden and extreme,” she said quickly, returning to the original topic. “But this plot has been planned for a long time. The balcony collapse, the attack by the guard—”
“The attack by a Kyonan guard,” interrupted another advisor. “You say your claim is extreme? It’s preposterous. Balenol has been at peace with Thorania for centuries, and we have no reason to doubt King Abner. If anyone is plotting to weaken Balenol, it would be Kyona!”
“That’s right,” chimed in another man. “Your attempt to turn us against our neighbors is transparent and embarrassing. You really expect us to believe Thorania seeks war with us?”
“No,” interjected Lord Yosef quickly, speaking up for the first time. “My Lords,” he gave a quick bow, “I am Lord Yosef, of Thorania. My king does not wish for war with Balenol.”
“There,” said one of the local nobles, gesturing toward Lord Yosef and speaking as though he had himself made an irrefutable point. “You see?”
“But these Kyonans are telling the truth,” Lord Yosef hastened to add, at a glare from Lucy. “King Abner has never had any intention of aggression toward you, but there are treasonous forces at work in Thorania. The king has been manipulated by magic.”
There was another painful moment of silence after this declaration. “That’s even more absurd than the girl’s claim,” said a new nobleman gruffly. “Talk of magic does nothing to make your tale more credible. And even if there were some kind of magic at work, it would only further implicate the Kyonans. Drago
ns—if such creatures do exist—belong to Kyona, do they not? Not that I believe any such talk, of course.” He leveled his gaze at Eamon, a challenge in his eyes. “If there was truth to these tales that your royal house has access to dragon magic, Your Highness, would we not have seen some evidence of it in the alliance negotiations you commenced during your recent visit?”
“Quite right,” approved the first nobleman curtly. “We’re not interested in any trouble you may be looking to stir up.” He spoke to Lucy, but his gaze passed between Eamon and Lord Yosef, a hint of contempt in his eyes. “You may have your ways of convincing Kyona’s rulers—and the younger, more foolish members of Thorania’s court—of your wild claims. But you will not find us so persuadable.”
Eamon stiffened, but personal insults were the least of Lucy’s concerns. It was clear that even with Eamon’s power in play, convincing these men would not be the work of a moment. And they simply didn’t have the time.
She was surprised to hear one of these serious noblemen echo the rumor she had overheard one of the girls at the gala discussing, that Kyona, through its dragon allies, intended to offer magical protection to Balenol as a gesture of peace. It tickled something in her mind, but whatever it was, she didn’t have time for that either.
She looked at Eamon, but he was still glaring at the most recent speaker. Lucy turned to Cody, knowing he wouldn’t be distracted by his emotions. “We’re wasting time here,” she muttered. “We need to go after King Giles ourselves.”
Cody gave a curt nod, not sparing another glance for the nobles as he turned from the room. Lucy and Lord Yosef followed him. It took Eamon a moment to realize they’d left, but he soon caught up with them in the corridor.
“Luciana!”
Lucy turned in surprise—she hadn’t realized her great aunt had also followed them out of the room. The older woman looked between the four travelers, her expression grim.
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