by Raven Oak
“An assassin would hardly ask permission of your guards, Your Highness. Besides, my orders trump yours when it comes to your safety.”
Another tug and Margaret advanced from behind the screen. The deep blue dress washed out any color from her skin. The corset, which Adelei supposed was responsible for the tug-of-war, shrank Margaret’s already small waist to almost nonexistent. “How in all the Thirteen Hells do you breathe in that? I’m surprised you can even move.” Adelei watched in amazement as her sister moved with ease across the room where she stopped before Adelei.
“Breathing isn’t important.” Margaret leaned forward to study the scar on Adelei’s jaw.
The invasion of Adelei’s personal space made her skin itch, and the hair on her arms stood up beneath her clothes. “Like looking in a mirror. Except for that ugly scar,” whispered Margaret. She waved a delicate hand, and the handmaidens all but fled the room. “Father says you are indeed my sister. He tells a pretty story of it, but I say my sister died many years ago. The person standing before me is a killer, a murderer who finds joy in carrying out evil deeds. No sister of mine could ever be involved in such… such affairs as this.”
Adelei allowed the words to roll off her like sand from the desert. “I’m glad we understand each other.” Margaret’s grin faltered. “What? You expected to upset me with your words? I’d rather be related to a donkey than to such a spoiled child.”
Margaret’s mouth opened wide as she prepared to shout, but Adelei wasn’t finished. She tapped a finger to Margaret’s lips. “Despite your apparent hatred and jealousy, I will do my job because that is what I do best. I will protect you, even with my life if necessary. I truly hope you live long enough to understand the sacrifices others are making on your behalf, Your High-ness.”
She executed an elaborate bow, her arm flourishes mocking Margaret while her petulant voice did the same. Adelei retreated to the door and stood like a member of the royal guard, eyes unmoving and her face a wall of neutrality.
At first, Margaret tried shouting, and when that garnered no response, she tossed another candle. This one missed the mark so wide that Adelei didn’t even blink. Eventually, Margaret took to ignoring Adelei’s presence as well. Dressed and ready, the Princess retired to a corner chair to read until a bustle at the door sent several pages scurrying in. Adelei stopped all three as they shouted their messages with all the tact of children given a new duty.
“Prince Gamun—he’s here.”
“The Prince is here. You must come.”
“King Leon says hurry. The Prince is here.”
Margaret dropped her book and ran her fingers through her long, black hair. Several braids twisted in circles near the top, but the bottom portion hung free. She snarled at a few tangles, then fixed a smile on her face as she rose. Adelei stopped her before she reached the open door.
“His Highness gave you orders this morning, orders to obey me for your safety. Whenever you leave this room, I go first. Before you enter another room, I go in first to check it. Can you follow these instructions?”
“If I can’t?”
“Then you don’t leave this room.”
Margaret nodded her compliance, though she stuck her tongue out at Adelei. The slow process of searching each room before Margaret’s entrance, even if just a visual check, delayed their journey across the castle to the front doors where the royal family would await the approaching Prince Gamun of Shad, soon to be of Alexander.
By the time they arrived, Prince Gamun already waited at the entrance, still astride his horse. Upon sight of his bride, he dismounted and stared up at the clouds. King Leon shot a nervous glance at them both. Adelei shrugged and jabbed her thumb in the Princess’s direction.
Margaret ignored her father completely. She strode across the cobblestone courtyard to Prince Gamun himself. The break in protocol was the action of a love-sick child, something most of the courtyard found sweet as they smiled knowingly at their princess, but Adelei caught the smirk on Prince Gamun’s face. His spotted Paloda skittered when the wind caught Princess Margaret’s dress, and its ruffles fluttered like birds before the nervous horse. Adelei kept her distance from the spirited horse but moved closer to the couple in case the horse reared.
Prince Gamun bowed low to the Princess, his black hair glinting in the sunlight. He remained on one knee as King Leon approached and rose once King Leon’s voice rang out across the courtyard. “Welcome to the crown city of Alesta, Prince Gamun Bajit of Shad. May your Way guide you.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. May your Way guide you as well,” Prince Gamun replied in perfect Alexandrian. “I see a few faces I do not recognize from my last visit.” While he gestured toward members of the high court, his gaze rested on Adelei.
She ignored him for the most part, choosing instead to study the men and women in his entourage. Prince Gamun kissed Margaret’s hand, an action that elicited a giggle and a flush from head to toe as Margaret declared him to be the “perfect gentleman.”
Adelei bit her tongue and counted to ten. Twice. If she swoons one more time, I may not be able to restrain my sarcasm.
As the King introduced other members of the high court and visiting dignitaries, Adelei spotted a young girl in the Prince’s party. Her cloak glittered in the sun, and her smile matched. When she caught Adelei watching her, she ducked down in her saddle.
She couldn’t have been more than twelve. What possible reason did he have for bringing her here? There were servants aplenty in the castle. Though with a hooded cloak that nice, she couldn’t possibly be one. A second wife perhaps? Fits his type.
The young girl clung to an older, heavy-set woman. Tutor perhaps? Old nursemaid?
“I see your kingdom has acquired the services of the Amaskans.” Prince Gamun stepped in Adelei’s line of sight.
“Prince Gamun, allow me to introduce Sepier Adelei, formerly of Sadai,” said King Leon. Prince Gamun reached out a hand and grinned wider when Adelei didn’t offer her own in return. She wore a face of boredom and neutrality.
“Does Master Adelei speak Alexandrian?” Prince Gamun stepped a foot closer to Adelei, the gleeful grin dazzling Princess Margaret. “Do you speak Shadian, perhaps?”
“She possesses quite the brawn, Prince Gamun, but I’ve seen naught by way of brains,” answered Margaret. “Yet my father is convinced it is time for me to have my own sepier, so here we are.” She blushed when he smiled again, though his eyes darted to Adelei.
“As well you should, Princess. These are dangerous times we live in.”
Adelei raised a brow. “Indeed, Your Highness. And with the wedding bringing so many strangers into Alesta, it would be all too easy for an enemy to slip into the castle. Right through the front gates even.”
“They might even be welcomed by some. Dangerous rumors followed us on the road to Alesta.”
“Prince Gamun, allow me to introduce to you my grand advisor…” As King Leon spoke, Gamun’s fingers brushed Adelei’s elbow. Her body cried out for her to flee, to step back, but she remained still as he tightened his grip. Let him think he has you scared. Truth was, her legs fought not to tremble as she stood on display.
“Similar, yet different,” he whispered, and Adelei couldn’t help but follow his glance.
The sun lit Margaret until she glowed. She pursed her rosy lips and fluttered her eyes like a simpering idiot. Despite looking the fool, Margaret’s brows furrowed as she noted Gamun’s grip on Adelei’s arm. “Maybe she’s not the fool after all,” Gamun whispered to Adelei. “But then, how could she be? With an Amaskan by her side? You and I must talk later.”
He released Adelei’s arm. “Such an intelligent princess I am to marry,” Prince Gamun called out, and he raised his hand in gesture to the nobles. “Her wit doth flatter me more than her beauty. Already, she loves me.”
Margaret blushed and hid her meek grin behind her hands. Most of the gathered guests smiled, while a few ladies simpered and fluttered long lashes at the prince. “I
thank His Majesty for such a grand welcome. Though I did think Alesta a smaller city last visit. Maybe it was the eyes of a child that colored it, or did your kingdom grow, Your Majesty?”
King Leon stiffened, and Adelei rested a hand briefly on his arm to halt his steps. She tapped her foot three times, a signal of danger, and her father schooled his face with a deep breath.
“Did I say something wrong?” Prince Gamun asked as his smile faltered.
“Everyone is quite prickly today, Your Highness. Must be the stress of planning such an event,” said Margaret.
That jibe about the kingdom growing. I wonder if he knows about the border change rumors or whether it was truly a faux-pas? I’ve only heard the rumors about him in this kingdom. Could they use the rumors to hide their own deceit and treachery?
Her father watched the prince, but Adelei watched her father. His frame remained tense as everyone stood silent.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with everyone,” Margaret whispered.
“Don’t worry, dearest. I often joke when nervous. Truly, Your Majesty, I meant no harm. It must be a child’s eyes that misremember such a grand kingdom.” Prince Gamun smiled at Margaret, who melted under his gaze. “After such a long wait in the sun, I’m hot. And famished, honestly. Maybe we could sit and discuss our future?” he asked Margaret, and with a break in protocol, he led her by the arm through the courtyard arch and into the shade.
The nobles followed the royal couple inside the castle. Adelei searched for the young girl she’d spotted earlier. A wisp of red hair under a hood was all she saw before the girl was gone, whisked away by her overbearing protector. Adelei swore and several highborns skittered away from her foul tongue.
“The gall,” King Leon snapped behind her.
Adelei eyed the scattering crowd and finding nothing, spun around to face her father. “We have bigger issues than that,” she said.
“He twice insulted this kingdom and in effect, me.”
Adelei nodded. “Yes, though he claims he meant nothing by it. Intentional or not, he knows you won’t do anything about it. To do so would upset the peace treaty. Did you see the redheaded girl amongst His Highness’s entourage?”
“Is that what you were tapping about?”
“No, but it may be related. Why would a prince bring a child on such a cross country trek? What possible use is she to him?”
King Leon frowned. “Do you think…?”
“It’s possible. If he’s brought one of his toys with him, he’s committed a serious error in judgment. I may be able to get the evidence needed for the Boahim Senate,” Adelei said. “But worse, I’m positive he knows what he should not.” When her father only frowned, she continued, “I’ve heard rumor regarding the party responsible for the death of your daughter, Princess Margaret’s sister.”
This time, his eyebrows kissed the sky. “This is a dangerous game he plays.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty. And he plays to win. But win what, I’m still not sure. I feel this is about more than just your crown.”
“How did he know?”
“I don’t know, but we must tread lightly with him. I fear I made the wrong move in responding with nonchalance. It seems to have fascinated him more.”
King Leon chuckled. “That would be the family blood coursing through those veins. I never could control my temper either. Let’s see if we can find out who this girl is, shall we?”
“Let us hope she lives long enough to be found.” Adelei suppressed a slight shiver. She’d never admit it to her father, but the worry growing in the pit of her stomach intensified as the wedding day grew closer.
This close to the big day, I need to find proof. I need this girl to stay alive. May the Gods be with us all.
Nothing could be more boring than a hundred people paying tribute to His Smugness and Her Bratty-ness. Captain Fenton stood watch in the audience chamber, along with his best soldiers. It was a risk, but Adelei had to know the identity of the child in Prince Gamun’s entourage.
The hallway was packed with people. Some were already settled guests as they made their way to the audience chamber in a flurry. Others were newly brought from Shad and ordering servants to carry baggage up the stairs; some would say they were integrating into the castle staff—Prince Gamun’s personal servants and pages, his advisors, and whatever the Shadian equivalent of a sepier was, if they even had them. Which are you, little girl? A play thing? Servant’s child? Bastard child of His Highness, perhaps?
Adelei was stopped several times on her way to the third floor housing the state rooms, including a suite set aside for Prince Gamun. Guards asked her to identify herself, and with the throngs of Shadians shuffling through the hallway, she didn’t blame them one bit.
She knocked on one set of doors and then another. No one answered either one, and she moved on to another set. The fourth one resulted in an odd little man answering. His pinched face reminded her of sour lemons, and he frowned at her Alexandrian.
“I was wondering if you could help me,” she repeated in Shadian. “I’m making a list of guests for the dinner this evening for the table arrangements—”
“No. You’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
“What? What do you want? Truthfully?” He peered up at her through tiny spectacles as he rubbed his arms. “Saw you clear as day. When I arrived. You be that sep-thing for His Majesty. So I ask again. What do you want?”
Damn. Adelei inclined her head. “My apologies, sir. You’re correct, though I am making a list of guests.”
“What for?”
Her toes curled in her boots. “Does Shad have sepiers?”
“Depends. What’s a sepier?”
Ladies and lords of great importance moved through the hallway as their rooms were given, and the steward brushed by Adelei in a rush. “No, no, not that room—the Rouge Room I said—” he called. For a moment, the cacophony muffled her words, and she waited until the group followed the steward to the other end of the hall.
“From what I gather, it’s a special assignment to the royal family. Doing odd tasks for them. Ensuring their safety. Those sorts of tasks,” she said.
He tilted his head and peered at her. “I imagine all sorts of odd tasks pop up. For one with your skills.” His hand held a small, wooden staff whose top was decorated by thirteen blackened spires. He reached up with the tip to touch the scar at the base of her jawline.
The staff bothered her, but the little man held such fire in his eyes, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Master Adelei, formerly of Sadai,” she said and held out her hand.
He accepted it, his grip strong for one with hair so white with age. “Master Echon of the House of Echana.”
She left her hand in his through will alone. “I-I hadn’t realized His Highness brought mystics with him on his journey.”
“Master Adelei, forgive my bluntness. You seem unnerved to see me.” She swallowed hard and kept her gaze on him. “I know other masters of my trade roam Sadai freely. What about my presence bothers you?”
“Forgive me,” she said with the incline of her head. “Our mystics serve the House of Sharmus, God of healing and protection. To serve Echana…”
“The Goddess of Chaos is, I would think, more aware of people’s needs than Sharmus. These times—bad times they are.” He struck his staff upon the stone floor once. “But I’m not a mystic. Not yet, anyway.” The old man pointed to the top of his staff with bony fingers. “If I was, the spires would be lit by Anur’s fire.”
Little old to be a trainee. Adelei glanced over his head at the clang of metal behind him, and Echon pulled the door closer to his back as he stepped partially into the hall. “Echon. That isn’t a Shadian name.”
“Adelei isn’t a Sadain name either.”
“True. I was wondering, though, I saw a young girl in the group with His Highness. Does the prince have a daughter?”
The old man pursed his lips together. “He does not. If there’s nothing else?�
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He didn’t give her time to respond as he stepped back inside and closed the door behind him. Interesting. Adelei knocked on several more doors, but her knocks went unanswered.
Who is this child? And why would the prince bring mystics here? And one serving Echana no less. Adelei left the state hall by way of a now empty staircase. Nothing good comes from chaos. The palm of her sweaty hand still tingled from his touch, and she rubbed it across her long tunic.
Her not-so-casual stroll through the servant’s wing left her no clues. In fact, the moment one of the castle staff spotted her, a dozen heads ducked back into their rooms, leaving the area mysteriously absent of people. Adelei could have entered their rooms at will, but chose not to make more enemies than necessary. Not yet anyway.
Though I have a feeling that will change.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Prince Gamun’s welcoming feast arrived with all the fanfare Adelei expected but little else. Everyone smiled at the royal couple. Everyone laughed at Prince Gamun’s jests. And everyone utterly ignored Adelei, who hovered nearby. She had several opportunities to politely inquire about the new guest and his court from Shad, but rarely did she speak a word before the person was caught again in the web of His Highness.
The creepy grin he shot her way when no one else was looking didn’t help. Adelei rubbed her arms as she sat before the fireplace in the King’s sitting room. A brief chill stood over Alesta. Windows were shuttered in the spring evening. She rubbed her fingers over her temples. It would have been nice to shutter her own eyes for a bit.
King Leon echoed her motion and took a sip of wine from his cup. “It’s creepy the way people are reluctant to discuss him,” said Adelei. “You can see the information on the tip of their tongues, but the minute they open their mouths to speak, their eyes gloss over and they forget, or they shrink in on themselves, afraid of him more than me. And that’s saying something.”
“Have you heard back from any of your Amaskan contacts?”
“Yes, I got word from a friend at the Order just before the dinner. But the information isn’t much better, I’m afraid. The rumors out there about this Prince are… are downright disturbing. I thought the rumors limited to Alexander but apparently not.”