by Jasmine Walt
Lukan couldn’t stop his head from shaking. So this was it: the moment he was expected to pledge his soul by becoming complicit in regicide. He glared at Felix, but his objection was pointless.
Wishing he could lock himself away in his archives forever, he took the vial of poison and the crossbow his uncle held out to him and made his way to Morass.
39
Axel strode through the palace toward Lynx’s apartment. How could Lukan be so stubborn? Did he not see that assassinating Mott was the only workable solution to their problem?
Axel swiped his hand against a statue of some long-forgotten emperor, wishing it were Lukan’s face he was hitting. His cousin was a weak-willed coward. For years, Axel had tried to persuade Lukan to stand up to his father. Again and again, he had explained the psyche of a bully, hoping it would help his cousin understand—and manage—Mott. But Lukan had given no heed to his counsel, preferring instead to let him or Tao take his punishments for him.
Now Lukan would die for that failure.
Axel took the stairs to Lynx’s apartment two at a time. It surprised him to see no sentries at the top of landing. Stefan had changed the roster this morning, putting two of his men here to guard Lynx. Why had his father withdrawn them? He sped up, jogging to the doorway of the sitting room Lynx and her sister shared.
The sound of raised voices pulled him up short.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Tao and Kestrel sat together on the sofas, deep in conversation. If anything had happened to Lynx, Tao, at least, would not just be sitting around. Lynx had to be in her bed chamber, giving her sister the chance to speak with her betrothed. Kestrel’s angry voice reached him. Torn between his need to barge in to join Lynx and his respect for Tao’s privacy, he hesitated at the door.
“I needed you today, Tao,” Kestrel shrilled, “and you weren’t there for me. Do you have any idea how terrible it was in that maze? I got punched—punched!—by some girl who wanted my bracelets, even though I saw them first.”
Axel decided to slip past them to find Lynx. He had just entered the room, when Kestrel said, “Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation here.”
Axel held up his hands. “Sorry. Just looking for Lynx.” He smiled at the purple bruising around her right eye. His eyes dropped to her wrist. Yes, a pair of golden bracelets. He wondered what damage her opponent now sported if Kestrel had won the trophy.
“This is too much,” Kestrel insisted. “Can’t you hear that I am talking to Tao? Just leave.”
Tao pulled a face at Axel and mouthed, “Sorry,”
Axel shrugged and stepped back into the passageway. Loath to move too far from Lynx, he leaned his elbow on the windowsill and stared out into the night. He heard Tao sigh.
“Look, I’ve already told you, I’m really sorry you got hit. But I did try to warn—”
“Tao,” Kestrel interrupted sharply. “Are you going to spend our whole marriage chasing after my sister?”
Reluctant eavesdropper though he was, Axel frowned. Every time he’d spotted Tao and Kestrel at the ball, her eyes had been fixed on Lukan.
“That’s not fair.” Tao sounded aggrieved, as if he, too, were aware of Kestrel’s double standard. “Lynx and I are friends, nothing more.”
“That’s nonsense! My sister would rather walk barefoot over burning coals than make friends with a Chenayan. So why did you insist on running after her? I asked you to stay with me after I finally escaped that hideous maze.”
“You’re wrong about Lynx. I know a friend when I meet one, so I couldn’t just leave it when she disappeared. That’s not what friends do.”
“It is a maze, and you didn’t chase after me, even though I’m supposed to be your betrothed.”
“You went through the archway so fast, I knew it would be pointless to follow. I would never have found you.” Another sigh from Tao. “And I wouldn’t have had to if you had stayed with me as I asked.”
Axel rolled his eyes, feeling nothing but pity for Tao. Marriage to Kestrel wasn’t going to be fun. Tao’s pain was almost enough to console him regarding his own situation. Almost, but not quite. He tapped his fingers on the windowsill, wishing they would finish this argument so he could get to Lynx.
Kestrel’s voice droned on. “All I wanted was to have some fun. You could have shared the moment with me.”
“The maze isn’t a moment I want to share with anyone. But I get that you’re cross, and I’m sorry if you feel I neglected you.” Tao’s voice had a tone of finality to it.
Axel straightened up and was about to walk back to the room when his cousin added in a sharper voice, “Now I need an apology and a change of behavior from you.”
Axel stopped.
Tao said, “I want you to spend less time staring at my brother.”
The couch springs squeaked as if someone had stood. “So I’m not allowed to acknowledge the Crown Prince of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories?”
Another creak of furniture, and Tao said, “Acknowledgement is one thing. Stalking is quite something else.”
“Really, Tao, listen to yourself. I honestly don’t know how you can accuse me of something as ridiculous as that. I haven’t spoken one word to your brother since I got here.” A guilty laugh followed. Then Kestrel said, “Perhaps we both need to work on . . . things.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Kestrel cleared her throat, then said, “Maybe our . . . first kiss would help.”
Spare me! Axel slumped against the wall and buried his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes. Thankfully, the sounds of kissing were brief, painfully so for a man and woman standing on the brink of wedlock.
Tao’s voice rang out. “I’m starving. Let’s track down dinner.”
“But my black eye—”
“You’re going to be my wife. No one will dare say anything,” Tao interrupted, heading toward the door.
Axel intercepted Tao, who held Kestrel’s arm. Tao gave him a strained smile.
“You’re still here?” Kestrel demanded.
“Like I said, I’m looking for Lynx.” He smiled at Tao and, guessing he was stirring the pot, asked, “Have you seen her?”
Kestrel shot Tao a warning look, grabbed Tao’s hand, and started dragging him toward the doorway.
Axel strode over to Lynx’s door and, without bothering to knock, opened it a crack. “Hey, you here? I have news. Of a kind.”
There was no answer, so he pushed the door open wide.
The room was deserted.
The first jolts of fear bit into him. He loped to the bathroom and banged on the door. When no one replied, he pushed that door open, too, and faced another empty room. That left her dressing room. A quick search revealed it was empty, with everything in its place.
He stood still, thinking. If Lynx had been wearing a gemstone, he could have traced her on his informa. Without that, finding her would require a visit to his father’s lair to trawl through all the palace cameras—a task that would take hours.
Could she be with Lukan? Although that seemed unlikely, it was the only rational explanation, beyond things he didn’t want to imagine. They would probably be in the great hall, preparing to attend the dinner with the dignitaries invited to the wedding.
That made sense.
Walking fast, he made his way to the great hall, down passages and hallways devoid of any signs of two impending royal weddings. He stopped at the double doors and looked at the imperial dais at the top of the hall.
Neither Lynx nor Lukan were there.
A fresh wave of fear hit him, chilling him to the core. He folded his arms to calm his pounding heart and roved his eyes over the tables.
A hand painted with intricate henna designs slipped under his arm. “You look troubled, Ax.” Malika’s dancing brown eyes were questioning. Her cerise silk gown gleamed in the torchlight like a living thing.
He gave his sister a strained smile. “Have you seen Lynx?”
“Don’t tell me y
ou’ve managed to lose her, too.” She grinned at him. “She’s going to think Chenayan men a pretty useless lot if you and Tao are anything to go by.”
“Not funny, Mali. You know I have good reason to be worried about her.”
Malika’s freckled face scrunched up in a frown, and she whispered, “How did your talk with His Imperial Idiocy go?”
Before heading out to search for Lynx in the maze, he had told Malika of his plans to negotiate a deal with Lukan.
“Not well. That’s just an added problem.”
She squeezed his arm. “Wait here. I’ll get Stefan. We’ll help you look for her.”
Stefan, sharply turned out in his full ceremonial uniform, was already heading toward them. He stopped at Axel’s side with a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Your men are gone,” Axel whispered, not bothering with lengthy explanations for Stefan’s benefit. “The best place to start is the lair. See if we can find her on any of the cameras.”
Axel led the way. Once at the door to the complex, he brushed his thumb against the scanner. The door remained stubbornly closed. He swore at what he considered confirmation that his father was involved in Lynx’s disappearance.
“I haven’t seen Father all evening,” Malika said. “He’s probably in . . . there . . . with Lynx.” Malika didn’t say the word dungeon, but it hung heavy in the air. “Poor girl. I hope she’s okay.”
Fists clenched in impotent rage, Axel banged his forehead against the door, designed to withstand a blasting stick. Then, he straightened, his jaw set. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Where else could she be?”
Both Malika and Stefan looked at him with troubled expressions. Was he in wishful thinking territory? He didn’t want to give in to their negativity, but where else would she be? He paced across the hallway, trying to think, but every time he passed that locked door, his conviction grew. Lynx had to be in the lair.
Stefan gripped his shoulder. “Let’s get something to eat while we make plans.”
Axel pulled away from him. “I can’t leave, knowing she’s in there.”
“Be reasonable, Axel,” Stefan whispered. “You know as well as anyone that there is only one door into the lair, and you’ve been programmed out of it. There’s nothing you can do.”
Axel eyed Stefan and tried to resist the urge to punch him.
Malika stepped between them. “Ax, Stefan is right. I doubt you’ve touched any food today.”
He hadn’t, but that didn’t matter. “I’m not leaving. When she comes out of there, I’ll be waiting for her. And him.”
Malika sighed, scooped her skirt up, and plunked herself down onto the floor. She patted the ground next to her. “Stefan, sit. If my brother is doing this vigil, then so are we.”
“It’s not necessary,” Axel grumbled as Stefan slid down the wall and sat next to her.
Malika took Stefan’s hand and looked up at Axel. “I’m—we’re—not leaving you, so stop moaning.”
Axel looked down at them, dug firmly into their positions. They would stay with him all night if that’s what it took.
“All right, this is as good a place as any to plan a strategy for tomorrow.” He pulled out his flashlight. Only when he had yanked all the candle sconces off the walls and tossed them out the window, did he sit. By the limited glow of his flashlight, he said, “Based on what Lukan said to me today, I think it’s safe to assume that he intends to marry Lynx.”
Stefan pulled out his own flashlight, adding to the illumination. “We cannot interfere with that. The emperor will never tolerate it.”
Axel nodded. “That’s a given. But it doesn’t mean Lynx has to consummate the marriage.” Marriage in Chenaya was only binding on consummation.
Stefan’s voice dropped. “But I thought the emperor commanded—”
“It’s one thing to command,” Axel interrupted. “It’s another to get people to obey.” He thumped his thigh with his fist. “Tonight, we’re going to come up with a plan to get Lynx, Lukan, and me out of this mess Lukan and Mott have gotten us into. Oh, and we have to protect her parents in Norin, too.”
Stefan’s eyebrows actually arched. “All before tomorrow morning? You’re not asking for much, are you?”
“Those are the stakes. All we need is a plan—and set of titanium testicles to see it through,” Axel said, refusing to acknowledge that it couldn’t be done.
“Even without titanium testicles,” Malika said dryly, “I can probably help. With the whole blood on the sheets business, at least.”
Axel—and Stefan—grimaced.
“I hope you’re not suggesting sleeping with Lukan,” Stefan said, voice aghast. “That's assuming, of course—”
Malika grinned at him. “You’ll have to marry me to find that out, won’t you?”
Even in the wan light, Axel saw Stefan blush. He shoved Malika with his elbow. “Brothers—especially this one—do not take kindly to hearing that their little sister’s virginity may have been tampered with. Particularly when said brother knows the last dolt she insisted on courting. I already have a kill list as long as my sword. Don’t make me add to it by taking out your ex-boyfriend.”
Malika chortled. “I love you, too, Ax. Now, as I was saying, Lady Tatiana is supposed to be Lynx’s lady-in-waiting, but it’s obvious to everyone that the relationship hasn’t worked. Anyway, I’ve volunteered to take Tatiana’s place, and Father agreed. I think he’s hoping that I’ll do a better job at keeping tabs on Lynx.”
Axel shook his head. Despite all the surveillance equipment at his disposal, his father could be very blind where Malika was concerned. There was little Malika couldn’t get away with.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“All Emperor Mott is interested in seeing is Lukan’s head on a pike and Lynx’s bloody sheets on a platter. Correct?”
Axel nodded. That’s exactly what his father had told him when breaking the news that Axel was to kill Lukan.
“So, before Lukan can get his hands on her, I’ll hide Lynx while you”—Malika’s voice hitched—“take care of him. When she’s safely hidden, I’ll doctor her sheets. In the morning, you can hand both . . . items to the emperor. And while you’re in Lapis and Treven, we”—she turned to Stefan—“will take care of Lynx.”
As grateful as he was, Axel knew Malika’s plan was pathetic. This was the succession they were talking about. If Axel were in Mott’s boots, he’d insist on more than a bloody sheet to convince him the succession was safe—or as safe as it could be, given the ludicrous situation. He would demand real evidence, of the photographic kind, before considering the job done. He had to assume Mott would be thinking along the same lines. Axel rubbed his jaw, mind whirling with ideas on how to fake some hot digital sex.
“Axel, I’m talking to you.” Malika poked him in the ribs.
Before he could comment, the door to the lair slid open, revealing Felix and Lukan. Axel leaped to his feet. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand to know where Lynx was, but in his mind’s eye, he saw how their huddle must have appeared. It certainly didn’t shout strength and confidence.
But then, Lukan wasn’t looking so good, either. Gutted was perhaps the best description Axel could come up with for his cousin’s pale face, beaded with sweat.
“Nephew and uncle having a tête-à-tête,” Axel said, pushing the sarcasm. “Father, you really need to work on your social skills. My cousin does not appear to have enjoyed your hospitality.”
Axel expected a comeback from Lukan, but his cousin merely looked at him with haunted eyes.
“Don’t be so smug, Axel. We may still find ourselves working together.”
Eyebrows raised, Axel wondered what that cryptic comment meant as Lukan hurried away. He turned to his father. “Care to explain?”
“More than you can imagine.” His father peered down at Malika sitting on the floor.
Stefan stood at attention.
Felix prodded Stefan in the chest. “This is no place for a lady.
Get my daughter out of here, now.” He grabbed Axel’s arm. “And you, come. We have much to discuss.”
“No place for a lady,” Axel said, “but quite fine for Lynx to spend the night here? How does that work, Father?”
His father snorted as Axel followed him into the lair. Axel itched to push past him to get to the dungeons, but he knew it would be pointless. If his father had reprogrammed the main door, he would certainly have changed the codes on the portcullis, too. Digging deep into his limited wells of patience, he followed his father into his office—and stopped short at the door. The room looked as if it had been tossed about by a particularly bad-tempered giant.
“Lukan and Mott?”
His father nodded. “Right a chair for yourself.”
Axel obeyed, but his foot bounced up and down on the chenna-stained carpet.
His father swept his hand around at the carnage of the broken desk, buckled chairs, soiled carpet, and smashed artworks. “This has to stop, for the good of the throne and the Avanov family.”
“No doubt you have a plan.”
“I offered Lukan a deal, and like the wimp he is, he agreed to my terms.”
Axel stuck his feet on his father’s wrecked desk, enjoying seeing him wince. “Then you certainly did better than I today.”
“Perhaps it is time you listened and learned, my arrogant son.” His father pulled out his handkerchief and flicked it over the chenna-stained squab of the only other functional chair. Then he sat. “Lukan has commanded Morass to kill Mott tomorrow after the wedding ceremony. With my new ice crystal in Morass’s face, the imbecile will obey.”
A gush of air—relief for himself and sorrow for Morass, who had no choice—escaped Axel’s lungs. If he were honest, patching together credible footage of a copulating couple was not how he wanted to spend the evening.
“It’s not over yet, son. The Fifteen will not be happy with Mott’s demise, and as Lukan is the one to benefit, they will be quick to blame him. It will fall to Lukan to justify his actions.”
“They won’t turn him down. They can’t, because he’s the legal heir. And let’s face it, regicide is hardly a new thing in Chenaya.”