“Something like that.” Keylinda frowned and ruffled through a pile of letters on her lap. “Some of the accounts are garbled. So confusing.”
“So where are my mother and brother now?” Maryna asked it calmly, but Anton detected an edge of panic in her voice.
“No one knows.” The princess shook her head, looking sad, though she clearly relished her role as the bearer of interesting news.
“Did Teodora kill them, do you suppose?” Maryna’s voice was small.
“Oh.” It was as though Princess Keylinda suddenly realized to whom she was speaking. “Oh my dear, no. I don’t think so. We would have heard. No, I’m sure they fled and have taken refuge somewhere. Perhaps in Aquianus. It was there your mother first received reinforcements. Prince Dristan wrote to me himself. He felt so terrible about everything. It seems your mother took Prince Kendryk’s death rather badly.”
At that Maryna squeaked in dismay, and Anton hurried to change the subject. He could tell the princess didn’t want him here, but Maryna had insisted.
“Your Grace,” he began in his most polite manner, dropping his voice as deep as he could. He sounded more dignified that way. “Have you heard anything further about Braeden Terris?”
“Oh, him.” The princess clearly found him beneath her notice. “It said here that he ruled Isenwald for a time, though that can’t be true. He’s a commoner.”
“He’s a count now,” Anton said a little too loudly.
“Oh, right.” The princess shuffled through her letters, until she picked one up. “There’s a peculiar story about him here. Something about supporting the peasant revolt and Princess Gwynneth captured...” She trailed off, her eyes traveling down the page as she read.
“Captured? What?” Maryna had recovered from the mention of her father’s death, but now she stared at the princess, horrified.
“It’s all too strange,” the princess said, dropping the letter into her lap. “And makes no sense at all. How about this? I’ll let you read through all of these. Perhaps you will understand them better, since you know the parties involved.” She gathered the pile together and passed it to Maryna, who dropped it in her lap, still looking horrified.
“Thank you,” Anton said, since Maryna seemed unlikely to say any more. She was already going through the letters. “Can you tell us what Lennart is doing? Has he marched over the Galwend pass yet?”
“Goodness, no.” The princess shook her head. “There was a big battle outside Richenbruck, against Mattila, I think.” She clearly did not keep her thoughts well-organized.
“What happened?” Anton asked eagerly.
“I’m not sure.” The princess looked puzzled. “Perhaps the end of the world truly is coming. Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Did Lennart win?” Anton resolved to stay patient.
“Hm. He might have?” Keylinda shook her head. “In any event, his general Isenberg still holds Richenbruck, and Lennart has gone somewhere.”
“Where?” Anton wanted to shout, but balled his fists in his lap instead.
“North, I think? I’m so bad with directions. But there’s been strange news from Terragand too.”
“Oh no,” Maryna murmured. “I can’t stand any more news.”
“Thank you for telling us,” Anton said, sensing he wouldn’t get any more useful information from the princess. He and Maryna would read all the letters carefully, and he’d ask around the palace. It was likely a groom or footman would be in the picture better than their employer. “Her Grace needs rest,” he added, hoping he could get Maryna out of there soon.
“Of course.” The princess now looked relieved to be rid of them for the moment. She likely hadn’t been expecting so many specific questions. “You will join me at dinner, of course. And your friend, that Marjatyan count.”
Anton and Maryna stared at each other bewildered, then Maryna giggled. “Oh, you mean Baron Andarosz. Karil Andarosz.”
“Yes, him. He’s only a baron? Pity. I have a youngest daughter I need to find a husband for. She’s such a pain, I’d love to send her off to Marjatya, but I’m afraid a baron won’t do.” The princess sighed and took her leave.
The two of them could barely keep from laughing until they were well down the corridor. “Poor Karil.” Maryna laughed. “Not good enough for Princess Keylinda’s youngest.”
“How many children does she have, anyway?”
“Six or seven, most of them daughters. Her heir is a boy, and she has to find husbands for the others.”
“How old is her heir?” Anton hoped he sounded casual.
Maryna frowned. “I’m not sure. Nineteen, twenty perhaps. I’m sure we’ll meet him at dinner.”
Anton hoped the heir was already spoken for. Now that Maryna had changed out of her Tirovor peasant dress into proper princess clothes—borrowed from one of the many daughters—her hair dressed in shiny, fluffy curls, Anton worried about whose eye she’d catch. She might be too young for marriage, but not for an engagement. But surely, Princess Keylinda wouldn’t even undertake that without Gwynneth’s approval? He tried not to look worried.
“Shall we find a quiet place where we can go through these letters?” he suggested. “I’m sure we can make better sense of them than the princess did.”
“I hope so.” Maryna stopped at a closed door and turned the handle. It opened into a small, cozy room with two chairs by the window. “This is good.” She sat down and dumped the letters onto the little table between them. “I’m a little worried about what else we might learn. Where is everyone? And where will we go if we can’t find them?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Anton said. “If we can’t work it out, I have an idea. I’d prefer to get you to Lennart first, but if we don’t know where he is, then you ought to go to Terragand.”
“But that might not be safe either,” Maryna wailed.
“It might not. But I know someone there who will protect you.”
“Edric Maximus?” she stared at him hopefully.
“That’s not who I had in mind, though I’ll take you to him if I can. No, I’m on good terms with Duke Aidan Orland. He helped your father a great deal. I'm sure he’ll help you too.”
Trystan
Trystan was surprised at hours, and then days flying by as they rode down quiet Galladian back roads. He’d started out promising himself to stay on a military high alert, but as the sun grew warm and no danger appeared, Natalya’s husky voice lulled him into a relaxed state completely new to him. Even more surprising was the fact he wasn’t bored with the religious talk. All of his life, he’d paid little attention to temple and faith, but at this rate he was likely to become more learned than Prince Kendryk himself.
“So you see why I had to rid the temples of ornamentation,” Natalya said. She’d already explained to him in some depth the teachings of Edric Landrus and her own discoveries in the study of the Holy Scrolls.
“I think so.” Out of habit, Trystan slowed his mule down as they came out of a wood to the edge of a meadow. He scanned the area, noting farmers working a few fields in the distance, but no one else. He looked back at Natalya, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “My mother converted to the Quadrene teachings, though she insisted on leaving the high altar in the Berolstein chapel intact. She said it was too beautiful to put away and that the gods would understand.” He offered Natalya a challenging smirk.
Natalya smiled. “It’s true the gods are merciful, but that’s not an excuse for poor behavior.”
“Will they punish my mother for her ‘poor behavior’?” Trystan returned the smile. Not that he really cared. His mother could take care of herself.
“I don’t know.” Natalya shrugged. “The gods will judge. I can only do my best and by extension, what’s best for the people of Galladium.”
Remembering what Mother Celeste had said, Trystan turned serious. “Do you expect trouble when you return to Allaux?”
“I do.” Natalya frowned. “I hope the king isn’t behind this.
When I left Allaux, we weren’t on the best terms.”
“Surely he wouldn’t displace you?” Then Trystan remembered. “No, he wouldn’t. When I spoke with him and the queen, he seemed very concerned for your safety. I doubt he’d feel that way if he no longer wanted you in power.”
Natalya looked unusually sad. “I’m not sure about that. He has another reason for wanting me to remain unharmed.”
Trystan held his breath, waiting to hear why.
Natalya quirked a smile before continuing, clearly aware of his curiosity. “And he’s gone behind my back before. I will try not to expect the worst, but I must prepare for it.”
“Tell me what I must do to help you,” Trystan said, annoyed at the lack of detail. He was rather jealous of the king and wished Natalya would put his suspicions to rest.
“There is nothing you can do to help if the king has turned against me.”
“I refuse to believe that.” Now Trystan wished for his escort, though he realized even an army of several thousand would be of little use against the full might of Galladium. Though King Gauvain had appeared soft-spoken and mild, Trystan sensed an underlying strength that wouldn’t be easily overcome.
“Believe what you wish.” All humor had fled from Natalya’s face. “But if the king has decided I’m finished, I’m finished. And I can be of no help to you if that’s the case.”
Trystan could hardly admit it to himself, but her grim tone frightened him. While it was true a deposed Maxima would do his ambitions no good at all, his worry ran deeper than that. For the past months, it had been no secret that he was in love with her, but what he felt for her now was something new. He felt responsible for and bound to her in a way that had nothing to do with her beauty or power.
It was as though in their time together he’d discovered the real Natalya, an enigmatic, strong, yet intensely vulnerable woman who needed him. He licked his lips, unsure of how to tell her, then stopped himself. He had no way of expressing these thoughts in a way that wouldn’t make him seem crazy.
They rode in silence for a time and then Natalya said, “I release you from your vow Trystan. I will not drag you into danger. I will, of course, see you receive your reward—”
“Don’t talk about that right now.” Trystan snapped at her against his will, then closed his mouth, swallowing down his fear and anger. “That doesn’t matter to me at all. Not anymore.”
“It should matter.” Natalya’s voice went back to its usual softness.
Trystan was aware of her eyes on him but refused to turn toward her.
Natalya wasn’t done. “Realistically, it might be all you can get from this adventure. Of course, if all is well and I retain the king’s favor, then we will talk about your further plans. But I think it would be best if you’re prepared for disappointment.”
Trystan took a deep breath and finally met her eyes. “As long as I’m with you, disappointment is impossible. Isn’t it obvious by now I’m here to help and protect you? I’ll do it, no matter what.”
“I thank you for that. But Trystan, I know what you want from me, and I’m afraid I can’t give it to you.”
The way she said his name in her silky drawl was almost unbearable, and though Trystan was conscious of his flaming cheeks, he turned to face her anyway. “I know you think you can’t.” He struggled to control the intensity in his voice. “But I’m not giving up. I feel something for you I’ve never felt before, and there’s no way I’m abandoning you.”
Those were the best words he could come up with to express himself. It occurred to him he didn’t want to be a bother to her, or stay close if she didn’t want him to. But he decided it was best not to say anything about that. And judging by the way she looked at him, her green eyes large and luminous, a soft smile on her lips, she wouldn’t order him away anytime soon.
Maryna
Maryna found the news about Terragand in one of the letters Princess Keylinda had given her. “I can’t believe it,” she gasped, handing it to Anton. “My cousin Balduin is trying to take over. How dare he!” The idea both frightened and upset her.
Anton read the letter, frowning. “This person says King Lennart put him in power when he was sure you and all of your siblings were dead.”
“I can’t believe he’d do that,” Maryna whispered.
Anton sighed and put down the letter. “At the time, we were all certain you were dead. I wish Lennart hadn’t been in such a hurry, but he needed to put a ruler in place right away.”
Maryna looked straight at Anton. “Were you sad when you heard I was dead?”
“Of course I was. What a silly question. You’re one of my best friends.”
“Only one of them?” Maryna couldn’t keep herself from flirting. She and Anton had had little time alone together, and she loved making him smile.
It worked too. Anton grinned at her, showing the dimple in his cheek. “I have a few good friends,” he said, “but you’re my favorite, if it makes you happy.”
“I should hope so, and it does make me happy.” She smiled back at him. “You’re my favorite too.”
“Good.” His dark eyes sparkled, but then he turned serious. “But we’re just friends, right? You’re the prettiest, sweetest girl I’ve ever met, but I understand nothing more can ever happen.”
Maryna swallowed. “I know that too. It’s a pity, though. You’re so much better than any stupid duke or prince I’m likely to meet.”
“That’s true.” Anton always seemed so sure of himself. “It’s likely King Lennart will make me an Estenorian noble someday, but that still won’t be good enough, I suppose.” He looked a bit hopeful as he said it.
“That would be marvelous.” She felt a pinprick of hope. Surely her mother wouldn’t object to an Estenorian duke? Perhaps when the time came, Maryna would be old and strong enough to assert herself and marry anyone she pleased. “You should try to do that. I won’t marry for at least a few more years and perhaps you can manage something by then.”
Anton’s face lit up. “You’d want to marry me?”
Maryna nodded, a lump in her throat. She hadn’t thought it all the way through until now, but she suddenly realized her crush on Magnus hadn’t been serious. Her flirtation with Count Vega had been driven mostly by curiosity and necessity. What she felt for Anton was real. She couldn’t deny when she first saw him again, he’d taken her breath away, so tall and strong and good-looking.
And all of these weeks traveling over difficult roads, he’d been so competent and commanding, with men twice his age hurrying to obey his orders without question. He’d be a wonderful help to her when she ruled Terragand on her own. Surely her mother would see that?
Anton’s face lit up. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “You’re a princess and I’m nobody.”
“Don’t say that.” Maryna leaned toward him. “You’ve done well for yourself and you’ll do even better. I’m terribly proud of you.”
“You’ve just made me very happy.” Now Anton was beaming. “If I have even a bit of hope, I’ll work so hard and become so famous no one will be surprised if you choose me.”
“I know you will.” Maryna wanted to fling herself right at him and kiss him. Kissing Count Vega had been somewhat pleasant and she hadn’t even liked him that much. Kissing Anton was sure to be much, much nicer.
He looked like he wanted to kiss her too, but gripped the arms of his chair, as if he needed to hang on to stay put.
So they just smiled at each other for a few minutes.
Finally Anton cleared his throat. “I still have to get you to Terragand. I’m sure if Lennart knows what’s happened there, he’ll send an army to help Edric, and maybe even go there himself. He left his wife and child in Heidenhof. In all of these letters, we saw nothing about Teodora catching either your mother or Braeden, though it sounds like she might have killed the leader of the peasant rebellion.”
Maryna pondered. “Princess Keylinda said my mother would go into exile, but she’s wrong.
My mother will fight for Terragand.”
“Your brother too,” Anton said. “He’s very fierce, and so is your little sister. I spent a few days with them at Princess Viviane’s palace. You’re right; they won't sit by and let your cousin take over the kingdom. They’ll come up with something.”
“I wish I knew where they were,” Maryna said. “I’d go to them first.”
“Me too.” Anton agreed. “I still think you ought to go to Duke Orland. Why don’t we head that direction, and if we receive word on the way about your mother or Lennart, we’ll go to them instead?”
“All right.” Maryna smiled. “Let’s make our plans and be on our way as soon as we can.”
“We have to have dinner with the princess and her family tonight.” Anton made a face. “And you must write a letter and get it to a printer. We need to spread the word that you’re alive all over Kronland. That news might be enough to stop your cousin in his tracks.”
“I’ll start writing.” Maryna doubted that would be enough to stop her cousin, but she needed to do what she could. With any luck, Lennart would take him on long before she reached Terragand and get rid of him.
Braeden
Braeden spent a fair amount of time at Trisa’s bedside, but no one matched Devyn for devotion. He refused to leave for any reason, insisting that the servants bring all his meals to him and a cot for him to sleep on. The doctor gave up trying to shoo him away, instead giving him a few small tasks to keep him occupied. More than once, Braeden walked in on the young prince sweeping the floor or bathing Trisa’s forehead.
“She can’t rest with you staring at her all the time,” the doctor said, shaking his head, though Braeden detected an amused gleam in his eyes.
“‘S true,” Trisa murmured, her eyes closed, though a smile played at the corner of her mouth. She was awake at least occasionally, though the doctor kept forcing a potion between her lips. It seemed to keep her drowsy.
Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5) Page 5