by Genia Avers
He settled her into a chair. Which was good, because she really needed to sit down. Ronan pulled out the adjoining seat, his nearness creating a sense of confusion.
Tam wrestled himself free from Queen Winsome’s arms and planted his little body in the chair. “I get to sit by Bena.” He grabbed Subena’s hand and kissed it. Then he pushed against Ronan’s arm. “Move.”
Ronan shrugged, but smiled as he took a seat near Barkley and Mettia. Subena thought he looked disappointed, but relief washed over her.
Everyone talked at once. Subena nodded, following very little of the conversation. She’d met Kamber’s second brother and his wife at the wedding party so fortunately she didn’t have to remember names. She couldn’t remember being so rattled. The birthmark unsettled her completely.
She sensed Ronan had the same sweet soul as the male in her vision. Had she married the wrong brother?
She assumed the vacant seat next to her belonged to her wayward husband. No big surprise he hadn’t shown. Rothart’s absence, however, did puzzle her.
She heard angry voices. Her dinner companions continued to chat, as if they’d heard nothing. Subena thought Winsome’s jaw looked pinched when she asked Barkley to pass the bread.
“Kamber’s in big trouble,” young Tam announced in a serious voice. Subena resisted the urge to giggle, but Barkley lost his composure and spat out his wine. Mettia chuckled. The tension evaporated.
King Rothart joined the group a short time later, his face an unnatural shade of red. “Pray forgive my tardiness.” He didn’t sound like he cared about forgiveness. He slumped into his chair. No one said a word.
A few tense seconds later, Kamber skulked into the room. He sat down without looking at anyone.
Tam yelled across the table, “Did you get put in time-out?”
Even Rothart smiled. Conversation resumed and dinner took a more congenial tone.
As apple dumplings were served, the king proposed a toast. “To Subena.” He smiled and everyone lifted their glasses. “I’m delighted you’re here, my dear. I applaud your wisdom in authoring the treaty.” He glanced at his eldest son. “I’m sure you could have gotten a better deal but we’ve gotten the bargain of a lifetime.”
“But she got me!” Tam stood in his chair and threw his arms around Subena.
She pulled the young boy into her lap as the king continued, “I’m off to see Lord Creshin tomorrow. I hope my offer of the Quokon Islands will appease his thirst for war and peace can reign once more. I believe Creshin wanted Mydrias for the spice, cilosange. Our kind has no use for the stuff, but Creshin loves the weed. Quokon has trace supplies of it and the island should appease his pride.”
Subena forgave Rothart for all his rumored flaws. Maybe she could talk the king into letting her attend the meeting with Lord Creshin. For all his notoriety, she’d never seen the warlord.
“Father,” Ronan interjected, “did you expect me to come with you?”
Rothart lifted his glass and stared at his wine. He didn’t reply for several seconds. “I thought you were keen on finding the escape tunnel. Until we’re assured of peace, I’d feel better knowing our enemies cannot slip into the palace.”
Subena sensed an underlying tension to Rothart’s words. What really spooked the king?
“As you wish.” Ronan seemed disproportionally disappointed. Subena tried to imagine how it must feel to actually yearn for adult responsibility. She’d worn her mantle of reliability for so many years, she only wished to be a child again. For all her mother’s faults, meals in Mydrias were pleasant affairs.
“There’s a legend that says a tunnel under the castle grounds leads to the outside wall,” Ronan explained for her benefit. “I’ve been looking for it for a long time.”
“If anyone can find it, son, it will be you.” The king seemed to change moods, smiling indulgently at his second youngest son. “Perhaps Kamber can spare an hour or two to search with you.” Rothart glared at his oldest son, making it clear that Kamber had better find time.
“I’m sure he has better things to do.” Ronan crossed his arms over his chest.
“Maybe I can help you.” Subena smiled, wondering what possessed her to speak. She hated tunnels.
“That’d be great.” Ronan’s smile made her feel suddenly flustered.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Kamber said, speaking for the first time since the meal started.
“I think it’s a great idea,” she countered. Personally, she didn’t think it was even close to being a good idea, but roaming around the countryside seemed infinitely better than letting her husband order her around. Maybe he could use the time to rendezvous with the Reck-ass female.
“It’s not safe,” Kamber said quietly.
Ronan snorted. “She won’t exactly be unprotected.”
“You were attacked, Subena.”
She swallowed hard, knowing she needed to contain her temper. “You mean your carriage was attacked. I’m sure Ronan can protect me.”
“That’s not—”
“Silence,” the king interrupted. Under normal circumstances, Subena might have felt sorry for her husband. Clearly no father-son bond existed between him and Rothart. But Rekita had destroyed normal for her. As well as sympathy.
“No one would dare harm her on Gatsle land, Kamber. Besides…” Rothart paused to smile at her. “Any female who can ride Pollo can clearly take care of herself. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Subena and Ronan are able to find the secret passageway, whereas you and Barkley have failed.”
“You rode Pollo?” Ronan stared, eyes wide. “I’m impressed.”
Subena nodded, not wanting to bask in the glow of his praise but basking all the same. Kamber had let her ride the steed twice during the trip. She suspected he’d only offered because he thought Pollo would dump her in the dirt.
“Father, why do you continue to encourage this folly?” Barkley wiped his mouth and threw down his napkin. “We’ve searched every inch of the castle grounds. If ever there was a tunnel, it has long since caved in. Or worse, will cave in. Someone’s going to get hurt.”
Why did Kamber and Barkley resent their father whereas Ronan and Tam clearly idolized the man?
“Subena, how about tomorrow?” Ronan asked. She sensed eagerness beneath his cool question. She hoped his eagerness to find the tunnels spurred his invitation and not some developing crush. If Ronan was the man in her vision, she’d met him too late.
“Sure.” On second thought, was a crush really so bad? Ronan appeared to have all of Kamber’s good traits and none of his bad. “I’ll help you look for the opening, but I’m not going in any tunnel.”
Ronan smiled triumphantly, but the tension intertwined between the king and his two oldest sons continued to hang over the table. Winsome fidgeted.
“Subena, I understand Duke Taslin is a friend of yours.” The queen’s voice surprised her. She hadn’t spoken during the entire meal. “This first supper was family only, but he is welcome to join us for future meals.”
“No.” Kamber growled. “He is not welcome.”
Winsome smiled at Subena. “Gatslian men are notoriously jealous.”
The king turned red-faced. “If Winsome says the duke is welcome, he’s welcome. Have you no manners, Kamber?” He glowered at his oldest son.
Kamber rose and left the room without answering.
Chapter Eighteen
Back in her suite, Subena opened the doors to an adjoining room. Given the size of the bed, she guessed the space belonged to Kamber. She slammed the door, relieved to find a lock. Her first night in Gatsle would be spent alone—not exactly how she’d planned it, but what choice did she have?
She rubbed her temples, trying to erase the vivid image of Rekita’s lips on Kamber. The fury she’d suppressed since her arrival came roaring back, giving her a massive headache. “How could he?”
And why did she care so much? She was leaving in a year, right?
She picked up one
of the delicate china cups she’d brought for Queen Winsome, intending to hurl it at the wall. What am I doing?
Controlling her temper hadn’t been a difficult task before Kamber, now she seemed to be angry all the time. She’d almost destroyed an intricate work of art in a fit of pique. Her rage cooled, but she refused to listen to the nagging voice on the edge of her subconscious.
Kamber did try to extract himself from her grasp.
“He didn’t try hard enough.” She reveled in her fury, not ready to admit that something about the scene she’d witnessed didn’t ring true. The doxy from Kamber’s past had latched onto him in front of everyone. There had to be a reason she thought her behavior would be acceptable.
The little voice bugged her again. You’re making plans to leave after one year? How could she begrudge Kamber’s lack of commitment?
And if she really wanted to go home, why didn’t she just go? After meeting Rothart, Subena felt certain that the king would give Mydrias enough quartz to support the populace—whether she stayed or not. Bockle, she could even save face after the attack, using safety as an excuse.
“No.” She would not admit defeat so easily. And her resolve had nothing to do with the chemistry drawing her to Kamber. She’d stay busy and forget the gigolo she’d married. There was much she wanted to accomplish. The mystery of the blood beckoned. The temptation to find a replacement for Mydrian crystals was too powerful to ignore. And she’d stay two years if it meant she might stumble across the ancestors’ texts.
A knock echoed on the other side of the bolted door. “Subena, open this.”
“Go away.”
“Unless you open the door, I’ll just keep yelling. If you don’t care if the entire palace hears our conversation, neither do I.”
“I don’t care what anyone hears. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Kamber pounded on the door again.
“Damn, him,” she whispered. She did care.
She unlocked the bolt. He almost fell into the room.
She backed away when he reached for her. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
“I did try to get away from her.”
“How did you…”
He grinned. “If you’re going to talk to yourself, you might want to remember that my hearing is very sensitive.”
She resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “What do you want?”
“I brought you a present.” He pulled the same flask she’d seen on their wedding night out of his pocket. She’d partaken of the blood two more times, but she wouldn’t do it again. Not until she knew where it came from. She also had a niggling suspicion she didn’t need it any more than she needed the crystals.
“Where did you get that?”
“It’s a secret, but if you agree to a truce, I’ll show you tomorrow.”
“A truce?” She snorted, torn between the need to smack him over the head with the flask and the urge to rip off the lid and slurp the warm, velvety liquid. “Keep your secrets, keep your flask. Keep Rekita for all I care. After the way you humiliated me, I want nothing to do with you. Nothing.”
Maybe she’d reacted too quickly. She might not need the creamy nectar, but it could possibly save her people. Her response also reeked of a tantrum.
“I thought you said you’d forgive my past.” Kamber said.
Subena turned away, not wanting to look at the hurt reflected in his expression. “We’re not talking about the past, we’re talking about your present. I do believe you said you wouldn’t cheat on your wife.”
“You silly wench,” he snapped. “I didn’t cheat on you. The she-devil accosted me. If you’d bothered to look, you’d know I didn’t do anything.”
“Really. You didn’t exactly push her away. No decent female would create a scene like that unless a man had made her promises he hadn’t kept.” She lowered her voice. “And don’t ever call me a silly wench again. The only silly thing I’ve ever done is agree to marry you.” She stormed from her sitting room into her bedchamber.
He blocked her path before she’d time to blink. “Stop doing that.” She shoved at him but he didn’t budge.
“Rekita isn’t a decent sort, Bena. And flirting with Ronan isn’t smart. He’s far too impressionable.”
“Flirting with…” She closed her mouth, not wanting the entire castle to hear her screech, not wanting to admit Kamber’s warning had some merit. “Please leave. Now.”
He studied her for several seconds, and then disappeared in a flash. She sped to the adjoining door, her speed almost equal to his, and slammed the door.
When her anger abated, she sat down and waited for him to knock again, seeking her forgiveness. She waited. He didn’t come.
Subena awoke to the sound of a bolt sliding into a lock. “Kamber?”
“Miss, perhaps you should get into your night clothes.” The maid in the brown dress hovered.
“The prince. Where is he?”
“Last I see him, he was riding toward the village. I locked the door because I…perhaps ’tis none of my concern.”
“You’re right.”
The maid smiled.
“I meant it’s none of your concern,” Subena concluded.
* * * *
In a noble house near the palace, a lonely man hunched lower into his chair and rubbed his brow with his fingers. He was thoroughly sick of females, thoroughly sick of plotting.
“This is not over.” She laughed, her beautiful voice transformed with evil intentions. The man wished he’d never gotten involved with her. She frightened him.
Chapter Nineteen
After breakfast, Subena hurried for the stables. She worried briefly about giving Ronan the wrong impression, but dismissed the idea. The attraction between them concerned her, but she could handle that. Right?
“Good morning, princess,” the stable-master greeted her. “I’m Arkton, at your service. Prince Kamber suggested you might like to ride Amnesia. She’s a spirited little mare and I think you’ll like her.” Typical of Kamber to think he could appease her with an equestor.
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but how did she get her name?” Subena had visions of the animal forgetting to obey commands.
Arkton laughed. “The mare once belonged to Prince Barkley. He could never remember the animal’s name.”
She laughed and pulled a lump of sugar from her pocket. The equestor didn’t have the magnificence of the Pollo, but the little mare pranced, eager to run. She was much finer than anything in Mydrian stables. When the sugar disappeared, she inspected the equestor’s hooves and legs. “How is it that you have such a fine stable?”
Arkton grinned. “There’ve been animals here as long as I can remember. Legend has it Rothart’s grandfather bred one of the local mares with a real horse, brought from earth to this planet.”
Subena suppressed a smile. Gatslians had a legend for everything—there was no such thing as a horse.
As she habitually did, even with her little pony in Mydrias, she examined the saddle and bridle. In her haste to mount, she almost overlooked the saddle girth. The mare began to step and skitter when she tightened it around her belly. She petted the animal and used “shushing” noises to calm her, but the equestor continued to snort. She unbuckled the belt and took a closer look.
“Arkton, when did you saddle Amnesia?”
The stable-master stopped preparing Ronan’s mount and looked at her. “About an hour ago. The prince told me you’d be anxious to ride so I made sure she was ready.”
“Was anyone else in her stall?”
The old man’s head bobbed. She had his full attention. “Not that I can recall. After I saddled Amnesia, several guards needed equestors so I just left her tethered here. Is something wrong?”
“Maybe.” She continued to study the strap of leather, trying to make sense of the powdery substance. “Take a look.”
Arkton scrutinized the belt. “God of the Mountain.” He tugged at his collar. “Mistress, I’m certain this…” He looked p
uzzled. “I keep my equipment clean. There was nothing on this girth.”
“I think it’s just dust. Maybe something got laid on top of the saddle. You can replace it, can’t you?”
“Of course, princess.” Arkton scratched his head. “But that doesn’t explain this. Take a look.”
Subena leaned over and ran a finger along the belt to gather the dust. It created a burning sensation when it touched her skin. Remba dust. The vile substance coated the girth.
“Poor Amnesia. No wonder you’re so jumpy.” She patted the animal on her flank. “I’ll just wipe her down while you replace the strap. Or get another saddle?”
Arkton stepped back and looked at her, his eyes wide. “I must report this to the prince, mistress.”
“Can’t your report wait?” She smiled widely at Arkton, feeling guilty about using flummery to get her way. She desperately wanted to ride. No, needed to ride. Rekita had tampered with the saddle, no doubt about it. The vile temptress wanted to frighten her and Subena refused to be frightened.
She agreed the prank must be reported, but only after the details were known. Otherwise she wouldn’t be allowed to ride with Ronan. Especially after the attack on the caravan.
She looked at the stable-master, consciously raising and lowering her lashes. “Arkton, our peoples have misunderstood each other too long and we’ve made great strides during the last weeks. Our countries are friendly now. Let’s not let a prank played by one of Kamber’s old flames spoil the progress we’ve made.”
“I don’t know.” Arkton hesitated.
“If you tell the prince now, he won’t let me ride and after that long carriage trip, I really need a good gallop. You can tell Kamber, just don’t say anything until we’re gone. Please?”
“I don’t like this. You could’ve been hurt.”
“Not likely. Any experienced rider always checks the gear before a ride.”
The stable-master looked skeptical. “Please,” she implored.