by Raven Oak
He gestured for her to continue, and she reported on the many instances throughout the day where guards were derelict in their duty or areas of the castle that were too exposed or open to being breached. “Worse still is that Her Highness has no idea of the precariousness of her life, or care for guarding herself. She claims to have had some self-defense training, though I saw no evidence of it this morning when we… approached the issue.”
“When you chucked a candle at her spoiled rotten head, you mean.” King Leon half-laughed, half-coughed his way to his next breath. “Yes, I heard about your attempts to instill some sense of self-preservation in her. Good on you to establish order early on. Something I never learned to do with her, sadly. Tell me though, what does Lady Millicent want with a visit to an Amaskan?” Wrinkles decorated his forehead, frowning in sync with his lips.
“Former Amaskan.”
“Does that bother you?”
She kept her muscles still, but her toe twitched despite her efforts. “Yes. Would it matter to you if you found yourself suddenly not king?”
A genuine smile lit up his face. “Not at all. I would enjoy the leisure, I think. So what does the lady want with a… former Amaskan?”
“She believes the alliance between the Shadian family and your own is a trap.”
“It is.”
His answer startled her, though she supposed it shouldn’t have. Any king worth his weight in gold would be well aware of such traps. Such is the risk in alliances.
“Then why go through with it? If you’ve proof of such a trap, why not go before the Boahim Senate and cry foul?”
“If I had such proof, I would, but I have nothing more than conjecture. My hope is that in your search for our assassin, you’ll find me proof enough to call off the wedding.”
Adelei nodded. “I’ve nothing yet, but with hope my conversation with Lady Millicent will give me what we need. She knows something, something important. I just have to gain her trust enough to hear it.”
“Good,” King Leon said, his body rocking slightly with his nodding head. “Iliana—”
She held up a finger to her lips. “Adelei. Even in this room, it has to be Adelei.”
“But—”
“Your Majesty, if I’m to protect Margaret, there can’t be anything to use as a weapon, do you understand? I can’t be… who you want me to be, nothing that can be used against you. I must be who you hired and nothing more.” Her voice shook at the end as an internal voice whispered, Coward. Hiding behind an excuse.
No, she answered. Emotions are a weakness.
And if you had to admit to yourself that you’re curious about this father? That you remember… something? That you want to remember more? That would be a weakness? You’re hiding.
“Ili—Adelei?” asked King Leon. He leaned close enough for her to smell the roast pig on his breath. “Are you well? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m tired. Too long in the saddle.”
Another excuse. Another lie.
Her father touched a finger to her cheek long enough for her to blink twice before withdrawing it. “I-I wish we had more time to speak. I’ve missed you…” The knock at the door startled them both, and Adelei leapt up.
A guard stuck his head inside, nodding by way of his apology. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Your Majesty, but Lady Millicent still waits to see Master Adelei. Would you like her to return another time?”
“No, no, we’re finished,” said King Leon. All traces of her father washed from his face in a moment. “I’ll leave you to your business, Master Adelei.”
Outside the door, Lady Millicent bowed low to the King as he passed. She strode inside with a raised brow and shut the door behind her. “Interesting company to keep so late in the evening.”
While the lady seated herself, Adelei gathered her composure. Her mask had fallen—just for a moment as her father had reached out to her. A weakness. Lock it away, shut it down. Such a conflict couldn’t exist. Shouldn’t exist.
“Tell me about this prince.”
“He’s a sadist, Master Adelei. He finds girls of a certain age, young but not little children, and he lures them in with promises of nobility, land, or trinkets of great value. Then he breaks them. Sometimes they come back with such damage. Unspeakable things on their flesh. If that’s how they’re found, they are lucky.”
“How so?” Adelei asked and swallowed the bile in the back of her throat.
“In the worst cases, their minds are gone. I don’t know what magics or evils are used, but they aren’t there anymore. Any trace of who they were is gone. And this is in addition to the body’s physical condition.”
“How do you know for sure this is what he does?”
Lady Millicent’s eyes went flat, and she blinked slowly, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold all the horrors inside. Adelei had seen it before in other victims, and she asked, “Did he hurt your Ladyship?”
“Not me,” she whispered. “My daughter. My only daughter.”
Adelei could smell the bile in her throat. Again she swallowed it down. “I would think this proof enough for the Boahim Senate.”
Tears smeared the lady’s well made up face. “I thought so, too, which is why when we found her, broken and beaten, I rushed her before the Senate, but they wouldn’t see us until morning. But by then, my Alethea—” Adelei flinched at the name. Puzzle pieces clicked into place. “My Alethea, she’d found a knife and… and…”
“She took her own life.”
“Yes.”
Adelei handed Lady Millicent a kerchief which she used to blow her nose indelicately. “How do you know it was him?”
“Our manservant found her. In an alley in the city’s lower quarters. When he found her, Prince Gamun’s name was the last word she ever spoke.”
“I know this is difficult for you.” Adelei clumsily patted the woman’s hand. “But I must ask you more questions if I’m to stop this from happening again.” When the woman nodded, Adelei continued. “You said he’s left a trail of bodies behind him. How did you come by this information?”
“After Alethea, my husband hired some men to find information, to find out more about this prince. We knew who he was, of course, as he visited our city on his tour of the Kingdom of Alexander years ago.”
“When he first met the Princess.”
“Y-yes. He flirted openly with our daughter, and while we knew he was promised to Her Royal Highness, we thought maybe he might take our daughter as a second wife or a mistress. We thought, the mistress of a King is better than naught—it would be a chance of royal blood in our line. So when he invited her to dine with him, we thought her safe. We thought her happy and our future secure.”
Adelei grimaced at the picture being painted. As highborn as her ladyship was, no royal blood graced her family tree. Adelei could picture it now, how happy Lady Millicent and her husband must have been at the idea of a grandchild of such prestige—bastard or no.
“My husband searched for information and found similar tales all over, though most were in the Kingdom of Shad itself. Tales of girls disappearing, never to be seen or heard from again. And each time, before the girls were missing, their home was visited by Prince Gamun Bajit on his tour of his kingdom or ours.”
“How many?”
“My husband stopped asking after three dozen.”
Thirty-six girls he’d used and discarded.
“Why hasn’t the Boahim Senate stopped him? Their entire purpose is to stop crimes against the Thirteen. The temple is a gift from Adlain. To kill another is to kill yourself. Not even royal blood would protect him from their reach.”
“Evidence. There isn’t any. Just gossip. Stories. Any lead they’ve had just disappears forever.”
“Have you ever thought to hire the Amaskans?”
Blue eyes focused so intently on Adelei’s jawline that her toes curled in her boots. “Not in this kingdom, Master Adelei. Not since—”
“Iliana.”
“Yes. The death of the princess . There is no help to be had. And now you understand why this wedding must not occur. He must not gain entrance into our kingdom as King.” Lady Millicent’s voice doubled in volume, and Adelei waved her hands at the distraught woman to quiet her. Outside, the guards shuffled in place.
“I understand, and now if you don’t mind, I must attend to another matter. Thank you for your information.” Adelei guided the woman from her seat by the elbow.
“So you believe me?”
“I do, which is why I must attend to something immediately,” said Adelei, and Lady Millicent hurried out. Once away from ear range, Adelei turned to the nearest guard. “I need to see His Majesty immediately. Please take me to him.”
King Leon’s rooms backed up against Margaret’s, but his sitting room made her feel impoverished in comparison. “Wait here,” the guard said, and Adelei stood. If she sat in the chair, it might wilt or tarnish. The number of blue hues tripled that of the sitting room she shared with Margaret. The guard returned and ushered her into a private study where more blues colored her vision by way of a large tapestry—its subject, a woman she could only assume was her mother.
The thread’s thinness and colors’ brightness spoke of great wealth. Not to mention the labor to create such a thing. I wonder who made it?
Her father cleared his throat, and she bowed. “Rise,” he said, without looking up from the paper before him. Leon wiped the pen free of ink and gestured for her to sit. “Stunning, isn’t it?”
“Your Majesty?”
“The tapestry.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Adelei lied.
King Leon tilted his head. “Come now. Be honest—you wouldn’t be formerly Amaskan if you didn’t notice. I’d wager you’ve counted the number of objects in the room that would serve as a weapon.”
“Forty-two, but only because your bedspread is dusty enough to choke one to death.”
Adelei’s nose crinkled, and he laughed. His rich, brown eyes turned wistful. “Your mother was quite the beautiful woman, although a bit scatterbrained. Still, you have her smile, you know.”
When she frowned, Leon waved a tired hand at her. “I take it your conversation with Lady Millicent was fruitful?”
“It was, Your Majesty, though maybe not as fruitful as I’d like.”
“And yet still, you hurry before me late at night.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered.
“Tell me what you’d have me hear, Master Adelei.”
Adelei spoke with a level voice that didn’t tremble as she retold the information she’d learned that evening. “Lady Millicent is convinced, as am I, that harm would befall Princess Margaret if this marriage moves forward. Price Gamun may or may not be involved in the assassination attempts, but whether he is or isn’t, her life is in danger. This wedding cannot occur.” She kept her gaze on the floor while waiting for his response, and when there was none, she sought his face. Weariness stared back at her.
“Prince Gamun is not responsible for the attempts on her life.” The hair on Adelei’s arms stood on end, and she rose before backing away.
“Explain.”
King Leon said nothing at first, and Adelei repeated herself. Fire sparked in those brown eyes, eyes she shared, and she flinched when he grinned a dark grin. “And who are you to order the King, hmmm? Just know it was not him,” he said sharply. “That still doesn’t excuse the evils he’s been inflicting on my land. I share your concern in regard to the royal wedding.”
It was a risk. It was treason, and yet her job was to protect Princess Margaret. No one else. Everyone else was expendable, right up to the King himself.
Adelei withdrew her dirk in a swift motion. “You will tell me what information you have on the assassin.”
“You dare draw arms against me?”
“You hired me to do a job, to protect your daughter. Something I will do ’til my dying breath. And if it means I must protect her from a treasonous king, so be it. Now explain yourself. What have you done?”
King Leon rose up, fury inferno one moment, and then as suddenly, the man shrank in on himself. All the fight drained out of him as his sorrowful eyes begged forgiveness before he spoke a word.
Her skin, suddenly too tight across her bones, itched as the hair along it moved. “No,” she whispered. “How could you—”
“I needed you here. It was the only way I could ensure you would come home,” he cried. The anguish scrawled itself across every feature her fuzzy memory identified as father. “Master Bredych needed a cover. A reason to release you from the Order in such a way that you wouldn’t expect—”
“Expect betrayal? Treason?”
“No, I needed you home, dammit. So I arranged for someone to pretend—”
“To pretend to kill your own daughter? How could you hire the Tribor? Did you think they’d stop after one attempt? How stupid are you?” King Leon gasped, his mouth working while no words escaped. “Your Majesty?”
His shaking finger gestured at the table next to her where a cup of warmed liquid sat. She handed it to him and watched him guzzle it. He spilled a few drops on his lap in his rush.
The smell was familiar. The plate on the table held traces of green powder. “How long?”
“W-What?”
“How long have you had such fits?” The pallor of his skin. The weakness of his frame. I should have noticed this earlier. Damn. Double damn.
“Long enough. You know what it is?”
“You’ve been poisoned. Long enough to cause permanent damage to your insides.” Her anger drained away with a second look at the powder. He’s dying. He brought me home because he’s dying. And by the look of him, he doesn’t have long.
She didn’t know whether to hate him more or less. He was right though; Master Bredych would have had no other choice.
“How much longer do the healers say you have?”
King Leon placed the cup on the table beside him. His hands shook less this time. “Days? Months? Years? No one seems to know, but not long enough. There are things I would clear from my conscience before I pass from this plane, and I’m sorry to say this was necessary. But I didn’t hire the Tribor. I swear to you that was not my doing.”
“Any chance that whomever you hired did?”
“No, none.” When she raised a doubtful eyebrow, he shook his head. “It was Ida. She did it by royal order. The dagger was fake. Margaret was never in any real danger.”
“She does all the dirty work, doesn’t she?” Adelei shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” Adelei returned to her seat and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Ida told you her part in your kidnapping?”
“She did.”
Silence stretched between them like fifteen years, funereal in feel. Adelei studied her mother’s tapestry again. When she pulled her eyes away, King Leon’s own were damp. “I’m glad your mother never knew you were in danger. It wasn’t her idea to send you away. In fact, we fought about the decision before I sent her elsewhere.”
“Was it Ida’s?”
“No. I didn’t meet Ida until the day she took you away. When she returned, I didn’t recognize her. Hells, I didn’t know who she was until last year.” Her father rubbed his hand across his face and covered his eyes. “What a mess this has all been. Poor Ida has tried to make it right—to make amends.”
“And what about you?” Her anger flared up, new wounds too fresh to ignore.
“You tell me. Will it ever be enough for you? To say I’m sorry you were kidnapped? I didn’t know, Adelei. I swear it.”
“I-I don’t know. I have too many questions, too much to think about right now. After, maybe. I can’t promise anything,” said Adelei. The hope in his eyes pierced her armor, and she shifted the conversation. “So you arranged for Ida to make a false attempt or two on Margaret in order to bring me here. But what were you going to do when I found no assassin?”
His fingers relaxed their grip on t
he arm of his chair. “Honestly, I was hopeful that by then you’d want to stay.”
“It’s not as simple as that. I was sent here to do a job, which only ends if there is no longer a threat, or I fail. If I succeed, I will return home to await new orders.”
“You would, were you Amaskan. But you’re not now. There are no new orders for you.”
Adelei touched her finger to the scar on her jaw. Puffy but healed, it was a reminder. “I would still go home to await new orders. It’s my duty to the Order.”
“So it doesn’t matter what you want?”
“Does it matter what the father wants when the King must act?” When he frowned, she continued, “I thought not. It’s the same with me. I have a job to do, Amaskan or not. Part of what makes me the best is that I do my job because it is right—just. If it were any other way, you wouldn’t want me here to protect the Princess.”
King and father battled for a moment, his shoulders tensing as he shifted in his seat until he slumped forward, more defeated than ever. She thought the King had won out until he spoke. “How you are so wise at such a young age, I’ll never know. It couldn’t make me prouder, though I wish your sister shared some of that wisdom.”
It was a father’s joy that spread across his face, lighting up his eyes like fireflies and tripling the wrinkles around his eyes. It was a familiar joy. Master Bredych had been a wonderful father, if light on the praise at times, and now both men shared the same look. One before her, and the other in her memory.
“I’m sorry I brought you here under false pretenses,” he added, and his smile faded. “Ida mentioned an attack by the Tribor. Tell me about it.”
Watching this man shift from father to king so rapidly left a bad taste in her mouth. Her head was spinning. I never know who I’m talking to. Even worse—just when I feel like I’m getting to know the father, the King undercuts me and leaves me vulnerable and exposed. What a dangerous man he is. Adelei glanced up at the King through thick lashes.
He did it on purpose. The King moved across her father’s skin, a hidden creature just out of reach. When I think it safe, he strikes. No wonder people find him such a deadly enemy. She hated being used like that but admired the skill nonetheless.