I had been a fool to trust a single word from Ceren’s lips.
“Is this why you stayed at New Castle?” I asked. “To try to stop Ceren from ascending the throne?”
She nodded. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, child. But promise me something.”
“Of course,” I said.
“If you have another opportunity to end this, don’t let it pass you by.”
25
Ceren might be a liar, but he kept his word to me: I was allowed to leave the castle for one day each week. He surprised me further by agreeing to let me take riding lessons. I knew now that it wasn’t enough to warn Sami about Ceren’s devices or even his plans to enslave the Varenians. Lady Hyacinth had called my people the enemy, and Ceren had to be stopped before he could become king. And if I ever had the opportunity to leave New Castle, my only hope of escape would be by horseback. Ceren had made no further mention of our market trip, but I would get there this time, with or without him.
My riding lessons were at Old Castle, an hour’s ride from New Castle. There were stables in the base of the mountain, but Old Castle was where the horses were bred and trained. Grig was my instructor, and by my third lesson, I could canter independently. I had trousers made so I could ride astride my horse, which felt far more secure than sidesaddle, even though Ebb found the entire thing inappropriate.
I had another secret motive for going to Old Castle once a week, though I barely admitted it to myself. Talin hadn’t been at the castle since I killed Salandrin, and I still hadn’t had a chance to thank him for saving my life. But he was never there when I came for lessons, or if he was, he didn’t come to see me.
I understood it to some extent. Ceren was obviously aware of the connection between us, and rubbing it in his face wouldn’t make things better for either Talin or myself. But even though the sun on my skin and the freedom I felt on horseback made me so happy I nearly wept with joy every time I stepped out of the castle, I yearned for something beyond fresh air.
I dreamed of Talin often, only to wake up with a hollow feeling in my chest. I remembered how he had looked at me before he handed me the knife, how I’d felt seen for who I really was.
I wanted that feeling again.
After a successful fourth lesson, I rode back to the barn with Grig, both of us laughing at how I’d nearly fallen off after my horse decided to let out a joyful buck for no apparent reason.
“Milady!” a voice shouted from across the fields. I turned to see a young squire galloping toward us. Grig and I shared a worried glance and rode to meet him.
The squire pulled his horse to a skidding stop in front of me. “It’s the king, milady. He’s very ill. The prince needs you to come at once. And I’m to fetch Prince Talin, as well.”
“He’s not here,” I said, but Grig was already digging his heels into his horse’s flanks.
“I’ll tell him,” he called over his shoulder. “Go!”
Ceren’s guards, who accompanied me on every outing, guided their horses to stand on either side of me. “We’ll ride back, milady,” one of them said. “It’s faster than the carriage.”
“Is that necessary?” I asked the squire.
He nodded. “The prince seemed very concerned. The doctor said the king may not make it through the night.”
I gaped at him over my shoulder as my mare took off with the guards’ horses. “What?”
“That’s right,” he called. “Prince Ceren told me to tell you. The king is dying!”
The king had been dying for years, I told myself as we galloped toward the castle. This didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.
It crossed my mind that now might be my chance for escape. The guards had already outpaced my small bay mare, and with so much concern for the king, it might be a while before anyone even noticed I was gone. I was already on a horse. How far could I get before they caught me?
As if to answer my question, Talin came thundering up beside me on his gray stallion, and I knew I wouldn’t make it ten feet if I tried to run. I looked up at him, wondering how far away he could possibly have been to catch up with us this quickly. Not far at all, I surmised, which meant he was deliberately avoiding me. I wanted to ask him why, but how could I now, when his father was dying?
It was like the gods were toying with us, bringing us together only to pull us apart again, like Laef and Ilara. They had fought against the fates so hard, only to lose each other in the end. Perhaps it would have been better to simply let go.
We arrived at the base of the mountain in half the time it normally took by carriage. Climbing up the mountain was easier every time I did it, but today I was already winded from the ride. Two-thirds of the way up, I knew if I didn’t stop to catch my breath, I’d never make it the rest of the way. I was about to sit down on the steps when I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist.
“I’ve got you,” Talin said, hauling me back onto my feet. He didn’t look at me as he took my hand and began to pull me up the stairs, but the feeling of having my hand wrapped in his made it harder to catch my breath, not easier.
When we reached the platform leading to the main entrance, I tried to stop for a moment to compose myself. I had hoped to go back to my room and change before dinner. I was sweaty from the climb, my hair had unraveled partially during the ride, and I had no idea what the other lords and ladies would make of my attire. But if they saw me fretting over my wardrobe before going to see my future husband and his dying father, I’d only send more rumors into circulation.
Before I could even brush the dirt off my breeches, Talin pulled on my hand and marched us past the guards into the great hall. Lords and ladies stood in clusters, their murmurs punctuated by the occasional sob of an elder as she pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. If the people had been alerted, things had to be even worse than I feared. My thoughts darted to and fro like startled fish, but I focused on the warmth of Talin’s hand on mine and how easy it felt to be led by someone else for a change.
Ebb came scurrying out from a corner and rushed to my side. “There you are, milady. I was starting to worry. Is everything all right?”
“I’m fine. How is the king?” I lowered my voice. “Is he really dying?”
“That’s what they’re saying. Prince Ceren came looking for you several hours ago. I think he was so distraught he’d forgotten you left.”
I had seen Ceren in many moods, but distraught wasn’t a word that came to mind when I thought of him. We strode down the corridors to the king’s chambers, passing more worried nobles on the way. When we reached the king’s room, a guard opened the door for us without speaking. The royal physician was bent over the king in his bed. Ceren paced the length of the room, rubbing his chin with his thumb.
Talin dropped my hand the moment we entered the chamber, and I was immediately reminded how cold it was inside New Castle. I clasped my hands in front of me and took a cautious step forward.
“Your Highness,” I said quietly, afraid to disturb anyone. “I apologize it’s taken us so long to get here. We only just heard the news.”
Ceren looked up at the sound of my voice. “You’re here,” he said, striding toward me and gathering me up in his arms. I tensed immediately. We hadn’t interacted much since he told me what he’d done to my family, and now he was turning to me for comfort?
“How is Father?” Talin asked.
Ceren released me and led us over to the king’s bed. “Not well, I’m afraid. He was fine this morning, and then something happened, an attack of some kind. The doctor has been bleeding him off and on all day, but nothing is helping.”
I glanced at the bowl of blood near the king’s bed and shuddered. We didn’t bleed people in Varenia. Blood was acknowledged as our life force, the thing that kept us strong, so to deliberately drain ourselves of it would make no sense. I didn’t understand how anyone could think taking bloo
d from an already weak man was beneficial, but who was I to question an Ilarean doctor?
“They don’t think he’ll make it through the night,” Ceren continued. “I’ve given him several pink pearls to swallow, but he hasn’t been able to get them down, not even ground up into powder. That’s how weak he is.”
I glanced at Talin, who looked sad but stoic. Ceren, meanwhile, was practically wringing his hands. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked Ceren, though my words were meant for his brother.
Ceren took my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m afraid there’s nothing—”
“Would you sing to him?” Talin asked suddenly.
I slipped my hand free of Ceren’s. “Me? Sing, to the king?”
He nodded. “He loved my mother’s singing. It soothed him even after the most difficult day. I think it would help him now.”
“I—of course.” I moved to the head of the king’s bed and sat down on a small stool. The king was barely able to turn his head toward me, though I knew he sensed my presence. He was so thin and frail that when I took his hand, it felt as light as the hand of a child.
“What should I sing for him?” I asked Talin.
“The lullaby, the one about the lionfish,” Ceren said, coming to stand behind me. “I believe you know it well.” Before, when he’d mentioned wave children and our lullabies, there had been derision in his voice, but his tone held a hint of something else now, though no less disturbing.
I cleared my throat lightly. I didn’t have the finest singing voice in Varenia, but it was passable.
Beware the lionfish, my dear,
Beware the fish that’s made of stone.
Beware sweet nothings in your ear,
And the heart as hollow as a bone.
Beware the shark and ray, my dear,
Beware the jellyfish of blue,
Beware tongues sharper than the spear,
And a lover’s heart that isn’t true.
Lull yourself with the blue whale’s song,
Cradle yourself in Thalos’s arms,
But don’t stay under for too long,
Steel yourself against false charms.
Love is greater than the ocean,
Time is longer than you know,
But once your fate is set in motion,
There’s no telling when you’ll go.
Singing the song now, as an adult, I realized how morbid it was, hardly the appropriate thing to sing to a dying man. But the king’s eyes had fluttered closed, a small smile on his lips, and I prayed he would find some rest.
Ceren rested a hand on my shoulder. “That was beautiful. Thank you.”
I turned to look up at him and found his ivory cheeks glistening with tears, though his face was impassive. Every time I convinced myself he was incapable of emotion or empathy, he surprised me. How could a young man who wept for his father kill his own stepmother?
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Is there anything else I can do for you now?”
He shook his head. “Go and change. We’ll have a quick supper in the hall and then I’ll return for the night.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to stay with the king? I don’t mind.”
“No. You should rest. Who knows what the coming days will bring?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” I stood and turned to go. Talin lingered near the door, watching me. Our eyes met briefly as I passed him, and I saw gratitude there but also something else. I had left off the final verse of the song. Had he noticed? I wanted to ask him, but I merely bowed my head and left.
Ebb spotted me as I emerged from the king’s rooms and bustled ahead of me down the hall to my chambers, where a dress had already been laid out for me. It was suitably simple and unrevealing, with just enough silver embroidery along the hem and collar to keep it from being plain. I didn’t want to wear anything too cheerful, but too somber would be like admitting there was no hope for the king’s recovery.
Ebb untied my braids, brushed my hair quickly, and coiled it back up into several buns at the back of my head.
“This will have to do for now,” she said. “I expect the prince is too upset to notice, though you really should have bathed.”
I’d never seen her so rattled. “Is everything all right, Ebb?”
“I’m sorry, milady. It’s just that everyone is in a terrible tizzy about the king.”
She straightened my brush on the vanity several times, and I placed a steady hand on her trembling arm. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“It’s just, if the king dies...”
“Ceren will become king on his twenty-first birthday. He’s been practically ruling in the king’s stead for months anyway.”
She shook her head. “It’s not just that.”
“Then what is it? Please, you can trust me.”
Her sky blue eyes met mine reluctantly, glistening with unshed tears. “It’s just...you’ll have to marry the prince. Within the week.” She burst into sobs, and I was so caught off guard by her emotion I hardly had a chance to process the meaning of her words.
I pulled her into my arms and let her cry, utterly perplexed by the conversation. Why was she so worried about me marrying Prince Ceren? That had been the plan all along, hadn’t it?
After a moment, she managed to regain her composure and fetched one of my handkerchiefs. “May I?”
I nodded, and she dabbed at her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, milady. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Ebb, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve known all along I would have to marry Ceren.” Of course, I’d never imagined it would be within the next week. The reality of that fact was hitting me suddenly, and now I was the one who needed to sit.
“And you’re not afraid of marrying him?” she asked.
“I can’t say it would be my first choice, but no, I’m not afraid of him,” I lied. “Why are all the nobles so upset?”
“They’re worried about what will happen to the crown.”
“But he’s been ruling in his father’s place for months. Why can’t things just continue as they are?”
“It’s not that simple. If King Xyrus dies without passing on the crown, Prince Talin will have the right to challenge his brother.”
Was that why Ceren was upset? Because he was afraid he’d lose the crown to Talin? I knew I couldn’t believe anything he said or did was real—why did I continue to let him fool me? “And how will they determine who gets it?”
“They duel for it. To the death, unless one of them agrees to yield.”
Talin was stronger than Ceren. If there was a duel, he would likely win. That fact would not have escaped Ceren. “Would the people be unhappy if Talin took the throne?”
“No, milady. But there have been rumors that the woman king has her eyes on the Ilarean throne. The people are afraid any kind of dispute here could leave us vulnerable to attack.”
My head spun with all the information. Wars and succession, thrones and crowns. I hadn’t known about any of this before I came here. I’d assumed I could spy on the king, report back to Sami, and save Varenia. But our people weren’t even a consideration to anyone but Ceren, and even then, it was only so he could get the pearls. The king was dying, the kingdom was being threatened from within and without, and right now, my people had no idea that their fate hung in the balance as much as Ilara’s.
26
Talin may have been the stronger brother, but Ceren was cunning, and it was this thought that worried me as I sat between them at dinner. They hardly spoke to each other, no doubt lost in their own thoughts about what would happen if it came to a fight for the crown. But I finally felt like I had all the pieces to a puzzle I hadn’t known I was trying to put together. The motivations behind Ceren’s actions—punishing my people, killi
ng the queen, being willing to marry a woman he clearly despised—were now painfully obvious.
As the servants cleared our plates for the dessert course—even a “quick meal” required five courses, it seemed—Ceren tossed his hair over his shoulder and turned to me. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten amid all the turmoil, my lady, but we are only five days from market day at the port.”
I frowned in confusion. “The king is ill. I would hardly expect you to leave his side at a time like this.”
“No, unfortunately. I cannot leave now. Which is why I’ve decided my brother will take you.”
Talin’s head snapped up. “What?”
“It’s a five-day journey by carriage each way. I don’t want my bride gone so long. But you can make the trip in two and a half if you go by horse. You’ll be gone less than a week.”
Talin’s fork clattered to his plate. “I can’t leave now, Ceren. You heard the doctor. Father could die at any time. I have to be here, in New Castle.”
“You have another meeting with Lord Clifton, if I’m not mistaken. With the woman king gathering strength, we need his official pledge to the crown, and his guarantee that his mercenaries will stand with us as well, should it come to that. You can meet with them on your way to the market. I promised Zadie she could go, and I have no intention of going back on my word.”
I glanced at Talin, who looked about ready to leap across the table for his brother’s throat. He knew exactly what Ceren was doing: sending him away while the king lay dying, in hopes that if he took a turn for the worse, Ceren could seize the crown uncontested.
“The trip really isn’t necessary right now,” I protested weakly, but one look at Ceren’s face told me this had nothing to do with me and my desire to visit a market.
“I won’t go,” Talin said finally.
“While father is incapacitated, I am prince regent,” Ceren said coldly. “Which means that my word is law. You’ll go, or I’ll have you thrown in the dungeon for treason.”
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