The Consort

by K. A. Linde

  He sat up and leaned on one elbow. The sheet slipped off his body, revealing every rippling muscle. She snapped her gaze back up to his face.

  “I don’t see how that matters.”

  “We are on a Byern warship. This is the only room on the ship with quarters this nice. Otherwise, you can sleep below decks with the crew. Is that what you want?”

  She shook her head. “Surely, there must be somewhere else. I can’t be expected to sleep here. What will everyone think?”

  He laughed a bitter, rough laugh. “Now, you are concerned about this?”

  “If I am to be carted back to Byern, then I should have the luxuries of an Affiliate.”

  He held his hand out. “And you are afforded those luxuries.”

  Cyrene opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.

  “This is a war vessel, not a pleasure ship. We are not on procession, like the last time you had the full attention of Byern royalty in your bed,” he said viciously. “If you do not sleep with me, in my rooms, then you sleep below decks. With the crew.”

  Cyrene glowered at him. Of course, he would use every advantage that he had while he had her here. And, even though she had never slept with King Edric, it still prickled her to think that everyone, including Kael, believed that she had. But, if it irritated him to consider it, then she wouldn’t contradict him.

  “So, you expect me to sleep next to you the entire time I am trapped here?”

  “Yes,” he said simply. “Now, if you want to roll back over and lie on me again, I won’t object.”

  She ground her teeth and turned away from him. She hated that she had done that. She hated that she couldn’t control her body in her sleep. And, right now, she really hated Kael for making her do this.

  Of course, she couldn’t sleep below decks with the crew. She didn’t have her magic to defend herself, and she didn’t have any delusions that someone wouldn’t take advantage of the fact that a pretty girl was all alone. Her fury built like a fire being stoked.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked softly, staring down at her hands clasped together. It was the first time in a long time that she felt helpless, and she didn’t like it. It made her want to fight harder.

  “Why do I have to want something from you?”

  “Because you’re Kael Dremylon.”

  “Believe it or not, Cyrene,” he said, his voice drawing nearer, “I have always wanted what is best for you.”

  “You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

  His hand went to the tie at the end of her plait. He slowly removed it and then trailed his fingers through the braid until her hair was loose once more. It fanned around her face and down her back. She could feel the way he practically breathed her in. And she had to remain ramrod straight and still the whole time. She didn’t trust whatever passed between them when he touched her. And she couldn’t trust him.

  “You should,” he whispered into her ear before disappearing completely.

  Cyrene couldn’t sleep after that.

  No matter that Kael had left her all alone again. The thought that he could come back into his rooms at any moment set her on edge. She needed to figure out what he really wanted from her. And she wasn’t set to believe him when he’d said he was looking out for her best interests.

  Kael Dremylon looked out for one person and one person alone.

  Himself.

  A servant entered the room just then. A slight woman, not much older than Cyrene. She curtsied to her and placed a breakfast tray on the table across the room.

  “I would like to take my breakfast on the deck,” Cyrene said at once.

  “I’m sorry, Affiliate,” the servant said. “However, you have been confined to your rooms for the duration of your stay.”

  Cyrene gritted her teeth. “Confined.”

  The servant curtsied again in acquiescence and then left the chamber. When Cyrene peered through the door, she saw she had two armed guards outside. Are they keeping me in or others out? Either way, she had just traded one prison for another.

  No matter how Kael dressed it up with a big, comfortable bed, a long, hot bath, and more Byern luxury than was ever necessary, she had moved into another dungeon. No drugs this time at least. Unless she counted Kael. And that was a real possibility.

  She would have to figure out a way around it, but in the meantime, she was starved. Her stomach growled as she looked at the enormous breakfast that had been brought in. She didn’t remember the last time she had eaten. She had been so tired last night, and sleep had been more important.

  Now, she dug into the food, as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, which wasn’t far off. She wasn’t even ashamed to see the empty tray when the servant came back to collect it later. Cyrene knew the value of food. She had spent enough time traveling without much and having to steal to survive to take advantage when she could.

  After she’d eaten, she took her time exploring every nook and cranny in Kael’s rooms for clues. But, by the time he returned for lunch, she had found absolutely nothing of value. This might be where he slept, but he didn’t work here. He had made sure all of his documents were gone, and there wasn’t a weapon in sight. She could improvise if necessary, but trying to cooperate to get information seemed to make more sense.

  “I see you’ve decided to grace me with your presence,” Cyrene said, striding over to Kael after he entered the rooms for dinner. She sank into a seat at the table. The food was already making her mouth water.

  His eyes traveled the bright red dress she had found in the wardrobe. He’d surely meant it for her. She was the only one in court who flaunted this color. She would oblige.

  “Yes, well, I had matters to attend to.”

  “And you decided to leave me here in a guarded room?”

  “For your own safety, of course.”

  Cyrene picked up a strawberry from the table. It was a real delicacy at the end of its season in Byern. Though still plenty in Eleysia, where it was more temperate.

  She bit into it and contemplated her words before diving straight in. “Am I to be a prisoner?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why have you traded my prison cell in Eleysia for one on your boat?” Screw cooperating.

  Kael strode toward her. His figure towered over her, but she refused to get riled up. Still, she could feel their connection. Like a low buzz in her ear, telling her to just give in, to just say yes, to forget this argument. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. It was almost too much.

  He lifted her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her body shivered at the touch.

  “There are no bars. There are no barriers. The guards are there so that I can protect you. Court has changed since you left Byern, Cyrene. Not everyone agrees that you coming back is a good thing. If you thought it was dangerous before, you have no idea what you’re walking into.”

  Cyrene swallowed and scooted back in her chair to avoid him. “Don’t do that anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Touch me.”

  He laughed and sank into the seat next to her. “I won’t promise you that, Cyrene.” He winked at her. “You might ask me to someday.”

  “Tell me about court,” she said, ignoring his comment.

  “Eat,” he insisted instead. He plucked a piece of chicken from the plate and started eating himself.

  She pursed her lips and waited for him to say more. “Tell me.”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “How can I be prepared?”

  “You have me.”

  “Kael.” His eyes went to her lips, and she knew he liked the way she had said his name. “Please.”

  “We are preparing for war, Cyrene,” he told her finally.

  “War?” she whispered. “But it’s been…three hundred years since we’ve gone to war.”

  “Indeed. But my brother”—Kael gritted his teeth at the mention of King Edric, and he was not someone that Cyrene wanted to think about either—“believes that
we should go to war with Eleysia. I have made plans to ensure that does not happen.”

  “Plans,” she said stiffly. With Dean.

  “Yes. And I’m bringing the fleet and a pretty little prize home,” he said with an arched eyebrow as he popped a strawberry in his mouth. “Eat, Cyrene. You need to regain your strength. We need to make an impression when we return. We wouldn’t want them to think anything is wrong, now would we?”

  “Is that a threat?” she demanded.

  “You and I both know that magic is forbidden in Byern,” he said so softly, as if he didn’t want the wind to catch the words.

  “How did you know?” she finally asked the question that had been killing her this whole time.

  That day on the docks, he had pulled her magic up to the surface from within her depths, as if he had known exactly where to look for it.

  “I have always known.” He picked up another piece of chicken and ate it. Then, he grabbed a roll and stood. “I have been saving you from the start, Cyrene. If it were not for me, you would have died the day of your Presenting.”

  Then, he left her seated at the table to contemplate how it could be possible.

  She rushed toward him right before the door closed. “Please, let me out of here!” she yelled, banging on the closed door.

  But it was no use. She was left here with nothing but her thoughts and a half-eaten meal.

  And she spent ten long days that way.

  Meals with Kael were half-chore and half-torture. She badgered him every way she could think to get him to tell her about court, what he had meant about keeping her safe, and more about his magic, but he wouldn’t budge. And, sometimes, when he was so near her, her brain would shut off entirely, and she’d actually enjoy a meal with him in peace. The worst times were when her body was filled with electricity, and he was the power source.

  Yet he was her only source of communication and interaction. On some level, she looked forward to when he would show up each afternoon for lunch and each night for dinner. She had wanted to resist the sleeping arrangements, but after constructing a pillow barrier between them, she’d felt confident enough that she wasn’t going to roll back over toward him and trigger another breakdown. She still didn’t like that they were going to walk into a court that she didn’t recognize with her only known ally being…Kael Dremylon.

  She knew he wanted it that way.

  She remained hesitant. She wouldn’t fall into his trap. Not when he was using his magic on her, and she was still defenseless.

  The sustenance and rest had definitely helped her. She could feel her magic again. But it felt…wrong. Like darkness had clouded her powers, and touching them only made her control slip.

  She didn’t know if Kael had done something to her powers. That seemed the most logical explanation. They weren’t suppressed…just coated in an inky, dark substance that made her feel like she was trudging through sludge.

  Any other explanation was too painful to consider. Like thinking about Maelia or Dean or her friends. That was more like taking a fire poker to her bare skin. She couldn’t go near it. She wouldn’t go near it.

  She shook her head and backed away from the well of magic at her core. The door to her chambers opened. Creator, when did I start to think of them as my chambers?

  Cyrene had been meditating all morning in the center of the bed, trying to figure out the problem but to no avail. Now, she had a cold sweat, and she felt disoriented.

  “Are you unwell?” Kael asked.

  She didn’t trust her voice in that moment.

  “Cyrene?”

  He strode to the bed and reached for her arm as she tried to slide to the edge and stand. Power jumped between them as he helped her to her feet. She actually leaned on him as her body steadied.

  “I’m fine.” She pulled away from him and repeated, “I’m fine.”

  “I thought to give you some fresh air today, but if you’re ill, I won’t chance it.”

  Cyrene’s gaze darted to his face, and her mouth opened in shock. “You’ll let me go above?”

  He smiled. “If I’d known I’d get this response, I might have allowed it sooner.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have,” he agreed. “But I have something to show you.”

  Cyrene immediately straightened herself. All sense of vulnerability was obliterated from her mind. She might not be able to reach her magic, but she was still formidable in her own right. She had always been…long before she discovered her true potential. If she was to witness something Kael wanted her to see, then she would do it like an Affiliate of the realm.

  She slid her Affiliate guise back on, like a second skin. “I’m ready.”

  Kael held his arm out to her, and with a deep breath, she placed her hand at the crook of his elbow. If she tried hard, she almost couldn’t feel the point of contact or the rush that hit her. Why in the Creator’s name was it so much more powerful than it had been since I left? Another answer Kael would not give her…or he did not know.

  She eagerly followed him back up to the top of the deck. The taste of the salt on the air and the smell of the sea nearly brought her to tears. Living all those months in Eleysia and waking to this every morning had ingrained the ocean into her body. Water called to her even though she could not harness it.

  If she were like Avoca, then she would have been able to replenish her magic from the elements around her. But Leif magic was not like Doma magic. Doma powers were internal. You burned from within. You healed from within. All it would take was time.

  “What did you want to show me?” Cyrene whispered.

  Kael slowly turned her around to face the other direction. Her hand flew to her mouth, and there, like a bird’s song, she could hear her home calling to her.

  “Enjoy,” Kael said into her ear. He led her to the railing and spoke to his guards, “Do not leave her side.” His hand touched hers. “I will be back at lunch. Do not do anything foolish.”

  She nodded. She didn’t have a plan to do anything foolish. All she could do was stare at the city of Albion, which stood as a bastion on the coast. The White City glimmered from the distance. Krisana castle was the tallest among them, all made of whitewashed seashells.

  She theorized now, in a way she never would have been able to before, that Krisana had been made by Doma. Magic had built the palace. And it could never be duplicated again. For that ability had been lost when her people were slaughtered two thousand years ago.

  The happy memory of seeing her home for the first time in so long disintegrated. She was returning to a country that would kill her. She was returning to a home that had betrayed her bloodline. She was returning to a place that was anathema to her very existence.

  Byern might call to her, but it was a lie.

  And she would not forget it again.

  Her mind was elsewhere when she heard the twang of a sword being removed from its sheath. Cyrene gasped as she realized that it had come from her own guard, and her gut told her to run. She ducked at the last second and heard a sword bang into the railing where her body had just been.

  Cyrene rolled out of the way just as he righted his sword. She reached for her magic but had nothing. She was as helpless as she had ever been. And she was staring up a cold, hard killer. She couldn’t possibly die like this.

  She scrambled backward to get away from the guard.

  “You will pay for your crimes!” the guard bellowed as he swiped his sword down toward her.

  Cyrene flung herself away from him, but his blade caught her arm, slicing open her biceps. She screamed as the pain of the injury lanced through her. She fell face-first onto the wooden deck. Her arm hung uselessly next to her. She rolled over, determined to face her attacker if this was the end of it all.

  He brought the sword down to her throat, and she breathed heavily as she glared at him.

  “Do it, you coward,” she spat. “You attack a defenseless woman with no battle training. You
are spineless and worthless. You will certainly deserve your execution.”

  “Pray to your Creator,” the man said. “Though she will not answer a witch’s prayer.”

  Cyrene refused to close her eyes and give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. She was deaf and blind to everything else going on around her. All she saw was this one man. Her own executioner.

  Then, a sword slammed straight through his chest from behind. Cyrene’s face was splattered with the dying man’s blood. Her mouth gaped open in shock. She couldn’t even process what was happening. He was dead. She was alive. That was all that mattered.

  Then, the sword was wrenched out of the man, and Kael shoved the guard to the side. She stared up at her savior, unable to fathom this turn of events. He looked horrified and terrified. Like the thought of losing her was unbearable.

  Kael’s eyes roamed her face for confirmation that she was okay. She nodded. Then, he landed at her side. He tilted her chin to inspect her throat and then down to inspect her arm. His hands were measured and calculated, yet she could see he was frantic beneath it all.

  “You’re injured,” he said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “We need to stop the bleeding.”

  Cyrene reached out with her other hand and gently placed it on his arm. “I heal fast.”

  Kael ignored her and hefted her into his arms, as if she weighed nothing. “Get rid of the body, and clean up the deck. If anyone has information, step forward at once. Let it be known that an act against Affiliate Cyrene is an act against the Dremylon royal family,” he said to the astonished crew. “If there are other traitors in our midst, I will root them out. There will be no pardons for treason.”

  Cyrene didn’t even argue with him when he carried her below decks and treated her wounds himself. Her brain was working overtime to try to process what had happened.

  All she really knew for sure were two things—someone wanted her dead, and Kael Dremylon had saved her life.

  “I felt something,” Avoca gasped.

  She touched her chest, as if she couldn’t believe what had just hit her. A small tug at her core that could only mean one thing.