Alek mumbled an unintelligible response.
“He must have an Affinity for water,” I said.
“We have to keep riding,” Alek said, clumsily righting himself and clucking at his horse to walk on. He lurched in the saddle like a drunk.
Mare and I exchanged a nervous glance but quickly urged Flicker to follow him and his horse as they plodded on toward our destination.
“The Tamers won’t follow us?” I asked.
“Not likely,” Alek said. “We’re gone. That’s all that matters to them.”
Even though his words were reassuring, I couldn’t help but cast glances back over my shoulder the rest of the day until we made camp back on the main road that night.
Alek recovered over the next few days, but it was a slow process. I continued to drink my peaceroot tea and let my magic recede into the background, trying not to let the increasing intensity of my headaches make me sluggish. Willowbark was no longer enough to quell the pain, but the peaceroot was the only key I had to safety, so I took it and pushed away worries about the dwindling amount I had left or what would come after that.
A few days before we reached Kartasha, Alek was finally well enough to take first watch again, leaving Mare and me huddled in front of our small campfire.
“How are you feeling?” Mare said. She asked the same question every day, sometimes more than once, but it carried more weight this time. I knew she was asking about what lay ahead in Kartasha, not just whether I was surviving the trip.
“I’m nervous,” I admitted. Mare had a clear goal upon our arrival in Kartasha, but my own role left me feeling strangely uncertain.
“About what?” Mare asked.
“Pretending to be your maid seems relatively easy after the political deception I had to deal with as a princess,” I said. “But what if someone figures out who I am and that I’m not dead? Kartasha is said to be full of swindlers and thieves. What if there are people there who want to return a lost princess to her betrothed or her parents in hopes of receiving a reward?”
“I won’t let anyone take you from me.” Mare’s gray eyes were dark pools in the firelight. The fierceness in her expression lit a spark of desire in me. Until I met her, I’d never known what it was to be wanted or loved so much. I’d also never known just how much I had to lose.
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m just scared.” Giving voice to my fears made them that much more consuming. Worse, part of the problem was that I no longer had a sense of purpose. I didn’t know what I was going to do after taming my powers. I couldn’t see a path ahead that spelled out a simple life for Mare and me. Even if I could, would I be happy living a modest life somewhere, knowing that my Affinity was powerful enough to make a difference in the world?
“I understand. I’m worried, too. Even with you to guide me, I’m sure I’m going to find twenty ways to look like a bonehead at the Winter Court.” Mare sighed. “And now that the Sonnenbornes are already invading Mynaria, I can’t afford to.”
“I know you can do this,” I said. The key to success in any court was confidence more than knowledge. “Just remember the things we’ve talked about on the way here. Pause and think before you speak. Be active, not reactive. You’re a princess and an ambassador—you are entitled to demand the respect of the highest-ranking nobles in any kingdom’s court.” At least reciting the lessons that had been drilled into me since childhood made me feel more like myself.
“You make it sound so easy. Why can’t political dominance be determined with an ale-chugging contest?” she asked. “I could win at that.”
I laughed, and a little of my tension melted away. “Well, when you’re back in Mynaria, lauded for your exceptional ambassadorial skills, and Thandi bestows a massive estate in the hills on you, you can start your own court in which that is the preferred way for a newcomer to establish his or her standing.” I spoke with the prim authority of the royal woman I’d once been, and Mare was laughing before I got halfway through.
“That would be perfect,” she said.
“Wouldn’t it?” I lay down with my head in her lap, and she stroked my hair absently. “We could have a stable full of fine horses that you could train and sell, and perhaps I’d start an artists’ salon. But it wouldn’t be just for the nobles—we could invite local craftspeople and musicians. Turn it into a destination for the finest in the kingdom.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked, her voice curious and tender.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” It was hard to think past the immediate concerns of stopping the Sonnenbornes and finding someone to help me learn to control my magic. Besides, even tamed, how would my fire magic fit into a simple life like the one we’d just fantasized for ourselves?
“Then we’ll figure it out together,” she said.
“That is something I know I want.” I sat up for a kiss that quickly turned into several more, and then nestled closer to her. Wherever I ended up in life, next to Mare was the one place I knew I belonged.
SEVEN
Amaranthine
KARTASHA WAS EVERYTHING WE’D BEEN PROMISED, and more. As the layer of dust on our clothes could attest, our journey had been dry, but snow still crowned the high mountain looming east of the city. The setting sun bathed the peak in shades of peach and coral. Unlike my hometown of Lyrra, Kartasha had no wall to mark the city’s edge, and I wondered how the queen or the Winter Court regulated anyone coming in or out. No wonder Kartasha was said to be such a lawless place.
“We’ll have to dismount to enter the city,” Alek told us, and sure enough, a sign on the road we traveled indicated that we were to proceed on foot. I felt small on the ground next to Flicker after so many days in the saddle, and I missed having Denna pressed against me.
“Are you intending to go directly to the Winter Court?” Alek asked, tugging his mount out of the way of an oncoming ox wagon.
“There’s no time to waste,” I said. I hated to walk up to their front doors bedraggled from travel, but what choice did we have? It was late enough in the day that I didn’t expect them to schedule an audience for us until morning.
“Then you’ll want to head for the tower.” Alek pointed at a tall white building that stood halfway up the mountain. “You take the lead.”
I blinked, surprised. His directive had to be a matter of protocol—or because he didn’t want to be the first person to lay eyes on Guardian Laurenna. Given what little he’d said about her, I gathered he’d rather never be in the same city as her again.
“What’s the best way to get there?” I asked, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.
“Follow the main road to the fountain and take a left,” he said, pulling up the hood of his cloak.
The crush of people intensified the deeper we got into the city. Everyone walked around with weapons exposed—knives tucked into belts, swords buckled at waists, other blades strapped across chests. White flags seemed to decorate every building, and some people had even chalked ornate white dragons onto their storefronts. Magic sparkled all around us, as much a part of daily life as breathing. A broom swept the street in front of an inn by itself. A basin filled with laundry churned with no hand to guide it. I cast a glance at Denna, whose eyes were wide with wonder. By contrast, my feelings were more like those of my horse, who I could tell was barely managing not to spook like a green colt at every new thing he saw.
“Excuse me,” a man said behind me in rough Tradespeech. I moved aside to let him pass, shocked when I saw his Sonnenborne garb. Two more people rushed after him, both carrying tall stacks of folded fabric.
“What the Sixth Hell are Sonnenbornes doing here?” I asked.
“Those are textile merchants.” Alek shrugged.
“Sonnenbornes just attacked a city a week’s ride from here!”
“Which is why it’s doubtful that those textile merchants were involved in the attack.” Alek spoke to me slowly, as if I were very stupid.
“Kartasha is neutral territory,” Den
na added.
“Its people will feel different after we share details of the attack,” I said. Still, it didn’t sit right with me. Rumors had to have made their way ahead of us, even if we came bearing the official message. Wouldn’t that have made people suspicious of Sonnenbornes, especially if they knew that children had been abducted during the battle?
We passed a number of Zumordan drinking establishments, each one humming with conversation as it filled for the evening. I had a feeling that, like the alehouses in Mynaria, they were excellent places to pick up gossip and information—if one knew enough languages. Kartashans seemed to hail from all over the Northern Kingdoms. They wore a variety of fabrics, from the furs of the far north to the woven layers of the desert south. Pack animals varied from donkeys to horses to oxen, and I’d also never seen so many loose animals. It alarmed me at first until I realized that many of the roaming creatures had to be people in manifest form.
Would that be one of Denna’s abilities once she mastered her magic? The thought unnerved me, though I could never let her know that. Her choices were hers alone, and her magic was hers to master. I tried to shake off my worries. Things like this were part of what had bred so much suspicion of Zumordans in my homeland—accusations that the people were less than people because they could turn into animals or because they didn’t worship our gods.
As we got closer to the tower, we entered an enormous stone archway wide enough for ten warriors to ride through abreast. It felt wrong to walk through with my horse beside me instead of riding. My body hummed with nervous energy. The test of whether I could be the ambassador my kingdom needed lay just ahead, and it made me suddenly homesick. For the first time I thought I might understand how Denna had felt when she first came to Mynaria for her wedding. At least she’d spent her whole life preparing. Coming to Zumorda had been a harebrained plan on my part, developed in haste to make sure I could find a way for Denna and me to be together after she nearly died saving me.
I’d never had a long-term plan for my life, and my immediate future was too uncertain to make one. But now that I was so far from home, I knew Mynaria was where I ultimately belonged. My skill with horses gave me prestige there that I wouldn’t have anywhere else. Maybe my childhood fantasy of running a remote horse breeding and training farm away from the watchful eyes of the crown was just that—a fantasy—but I knew in Mynaria I could have a future I loved, especially if Denna was with me. The knowledge that we couldn’t go back until Denna had her magic under control was frightening enough, but knowing we would somehow have to explain that she was still alive or face hiding her true identity forever . . . it all left me feeling like the future I wanted might be impossible.
Past the archway, the sprawling collection of buildings at the base of the tower bustled with activity. Servants hurried about their business, and the smell of cooking food made my mouth water. People who had to be nobles moved at a slower pace, their jeweled robes catching the last of the sun’s light.
We came to a halt outside a closed gate of heavy wood leading to the inner sanctum of the tower. Four guards eyed us, unimpressed.
“My sword is your sword,” I said, greeting them in clumsy Zumordan as Alek had advised me to do.
Only the one closest to us reacted—by grabbing the hilt of her weapon. “Where are you from, foreigner?” she asked in Tradespeech.
Denna jumped in, performing the role of herald in much better Zumordan. “I present to you Her Royal Highness Amaranthine, princess of Mynaria and official ambassador of King Thandilimon. We wish everyone at the Winter Court strength and prosperity, and come to lend our swords for mutual success.” The words poured from her mouth smooth as water. My cheeks burned. We hadn’t even made it to anyone of rank and I’d already made a misstep. I was grateful to Denna for saving me but wished she hadn’t needed to.
The guard looked Denna up and down, then took her hand off her sword.
“She’s your mistress?” she asked Denna, jerking her chin in my direction.
“Yes,” Denna said.
“Why?” The guard smirked. “She’s vakos. Something’s off about you, but you’re clearly not.”
Denna paused, and I could almost see her mind turning the foreign word over to decipher its meaning. I knew the moment she understood, because her expression went completely blank. I recognized that look—Denna had long ago mastered the mask of neutrality necessary to survive court life.
“She’s a dignitary, and it is an honor to serve her.” Denna’s voice was so soft and deferential I barely recognized it.
The guard seemed confused by this response but turned back to me and spoke in Tradespeech.
“State your business with the Winter Court,” she said.
“We come bearing news of recent attacks in Duvey and a siege in my homeland, and humbly request an audience with the queen.”
“Attacks?” Another guard reached for his sword.
“The troubles of other kingdoms are not welcome here,” the female guard said. “And the queen isn’t holding audiences during her stay.”
Alek stepped up beside me and pulled back his hood.
“Sir Alek!” The female guard sank to one knee. The others swiftly followed her example.
I shot him a confused look, but his face was as impassive as ever.
“Can’t one of you idiots at least reach Guardian Laurenna or Grand Vizier Zhari?” Alek asked. “I have an urgent message from Lord Wymund, guardian of Duvey. And she’s a princess of Mynaria, for sard’s sake.”
I glanced at Denna, who looked a little pale. So much for diplomacy—at least I hadn’t been the one to sling manure all over protocol this time.
“Yes, of course, sir, I’ll relay that to her right away and see if one of them can fit you in,” the woman said, then shrank into a hound. I took a quick step back, startled, then mentally chastised myself. I couldn’t let them see how unnerving I found their abilities.
A few minutes later, the wooden gate creaked open and we were ushered into the inner courtyard. One of the guards stayed close by, unsubtly keeping an eye on us. When the dog returned and transformed back into her human form midstride, I managed to hold myself steady.
“As an honored member of the Mynarian royal family, you have been offered a place to stay here at court,” the woman said breathlessly. “Guardian Laurenna and Grand Vizier Zhari will see you tomorrow, and you are also cordially invited to attend the court’s daily cocktail gathering this evening to meet some of the nobles.”
“That’s very kind,” I managed, trying not to give in to the anxiety that flooded through me. A court function sounded like a great place for me to make a terrible first impression. Flicker sidestepped, keyed up by my tension. “Please extend our gratitude to Guardian Laurenna and Grand Vizier Zhari for their hospitality. We’ll gladly accept their invitation to tonight’s gathering.”
Alek made a disgruntled sound, but the soldier visibly relaxed at my acceptance of the offer. “Your chambers will be prepared shortly. Speak to the attendant at the merchants’ hall to the north and they’ll be able to guide you to your rooms and draw you baths, if you’d like.”
“Am I expected to attend?” Alek asked the guard.
“The court would be honored by your presence, Sir Alek,” the soldier said, her gaze sparkling with admiration. “A room will be prepared for you as well.”
“And our horses?” I asked.
“Quite welcome at the Winter Court’s stables. You’ll find them among the southmost buildings here at court. Would you like a page to guide you?”
I glanced at Alek, and he shook his head.
“No, thank you,” I said.
With that, the guards bade us farewell and resumed their posts, leaving us to show ourselves to the barn.
We were barely out of the guards’ earshot when Alek released a growl loud enough to scare a page hurrying past. “I can’t believe Wymund sent me on this sarding errand.”
“You can leave anytime,” I said. I c
ertainly wouldn’t object if he turned around and left for Duvey immediately. He’d gotten us to Kartasha and into the Winter Court, so his purpose had already been served. Besides, the only thing that seemed more likely to ruin a court function than my presence was both of us being there.
“I was ordered to make sure news of the attack reached Laurenna personally. Never mind that she’s about as likely to listen to me as a sarding icicle.” Alek’s jaw twitched.
“If you and Laurenna don’t get along, why did she invite us to stay at court?” I asked.
“She’s not stupid,” Alek replied. “She’ll want to know my news, and she wouldn’t risk offending a member of another kingdom’s royal family. She wants you close so she can watch you. Find out who you are, what you want, and what you’re made of before she decides your worth.”
“Great,” I said. She sounded like all the worst qualities of the nobles in Mynaria rolled into one person.
“So what are we going to do?” Denna asked.
“Deal with it,” I cut in before Alek could respond. “If she wants to know what we are made of, we prove our worth.” I met both of their eyes in turn, seeing doubt in Denna’s and displeasure in Alek’s.
“Unfortunately, it’s the only thing we can do,” Alek said, surprising me with his agreement.
We entered the stables, which seemed to be warmed with some kind of radiant heat. Outside the open rear doors of the stalls several large turnout fields sloped downhill, all enclosed within the Winter Court’s walls. The barn wasn’t terribly large, but only a few courtiers kept horses here—probably those who had estates outside Kartasha that they needed to ride to and from. From what I knew of Corovja, it was as inhospitable to riders as Denna’s hometown of Spire City, so not many nobles were accomplished riders, given that they spent most of their time in the north.
A stablehand showed us to two empty stalls in the middle of the row, gesturing to the brush boxes hanging in front of each one while trying to explain in broken Tradespeech where the hay and grain were kept. Then he hurried to assist two other riders who had just entered from the door at the other end of the barn. When I got a closer look at them, I nearly dropped my reins in shock: they were Sonnenbornes.
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