The Consort

by K. A. Linde

  “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  Edric came up behind her, and she felt the tension of his presence. But she resisted that static between them. It did her no good. Not when she was trying not to be upset by what he had done.

  He could have killed people in the city. He’d deprived people of water. He’d hurt families and businesses.

  It would have been one thing if he had done it for court. The castle always had plenty, thanks to the underground water, but he hadn’t kept extra water for the additional people he had invited. He had done it for plants. For a few roses that would wither and die by the summer solstice.

  Cyrene turned around to face him. “How could this please me?”

  Edric looked completely baffled by her statement. “I remember how much this meant to you.”

  “Yes, meant to me,” she said stiffly. She remembered all the things she had seen on her journey. The homeless and starving and dirty. She had gone without. She knew the pain and would not wish it on anyone. “But a garden cannot mean more to me than the people of Byern.”

  “Court always has more,” he said a bit defensively.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  Edric tilted his head, as if he were assessing her again for the first time. She didn’t know what he saw when he looked at her. But she was certain he did not see the same girl who had first walked this garden with him.

  “You’re right,” he conceded. “It was an idealistic notion. I’ll divert the water to the city if it pleases you.”

  Cyrene nodded slightly and relaxed. “It would please me. Yes.”

  Edric stepped forward. There were mere inches between them, and her chest ached from staying still. These Dremylon men were going to kill her. Her heart jackhammered in her chest, and she willed him not to move forward. She could feel the want off of him, but even though her body was being pulled toward him, her mind and heart were not in it. She was still too angry at all of his rash decisions—sending an army to retrieve her in Aurum, having Kael follow her to the capital, demanding her return from Eleysia like a toy someone had stolen, making her consort, and now the garden.

  “You will make a beautiful consort,” Edric said, running his hand down her arm.

  She shivered and then took a step back. “Thank you. But are you certain you want to make the change?”

  “We don’t need to talk about this again.”

  “Edric—”

  “No, Cyrene,” he spat. He bridged the distance between them. “You will be my consort. I have waited too long to get you back. I have been driven mad, waiting for you. That’s the end of this.”

  Then, his hand came around to the back of her neck, and he crushed his lips down onto hers. His lips held none of the tenderness she had known from him. How could he think this is what I want?

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and backed her into the side of the castle. She could have used her magic to get away from him, but she wasn’t willing to show her hand for that just yet. Her hands were shaking, and she felt cold and numb. This was not what she had been expecting from this encounter. And it only made the darkness within her swell in recognition of the deceit.

  “You were to come to my chambers that night,” Edric reminded her.

  He kissed down her neck, and she closed her eyes to try to pretend she was elsewhere. Creator, she needed to make this stop.

  “Edric, please,” she whispered, pushing against his chest. “It doesn’t have to be this way either.”

  “I have waited all this time for you. You will come to my chambers tonight. We will finish what we started.”

  “Edric…no. You should respect what I want.”

  “I am the king. I take what I want,” he told her.

  Cyrene’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps, if you acted like a king, you wouldn’t have to keep reminding people of the fact.”

  Edric straightened, as if she had slapped him across the face. Cyrene rearranged her dress and took a deep breath. Edric might have enjoyed her sharp tongue before, but she never would have dared to say such a thing. Now, he was acting like a child, and she would not go through with this. King or no king.

  His hand came back up to her neck, and she held her breath for a second before he moved it down the chain of her necklace. She dared not move in case he looked too carefully at the chain.

  “You speak very boldly.”

  “As ever, Majesty,” she said, putting distance between them.

  His hand dipped to the curve of her breast where the necklace set.

  “Many things have changed here. You will learn to fit in here again.”

  She took that as the threat it was. Fit in or else.

  Then, just as she was about to respond, he did the unthinkable. He pulled on the chain of her necklace, and the ring fell onto the top of her bodice. She sucked in a breath as he tilted his head in confusion and examined the ring.

  “What is this?”

  He stared at the oval-shaped diamond, precious and unbelievably expensive. When his eyes snapped back up to hers, she saw the recognition there. He knew. Why else would she wear a ring around her neck?

  “Who gave you this?” he snapped.

  She shook her head, refusing him the information.

  “Who?” he roared, louder this time.

  “It is not important.”

  Edric’s eyes were murderous. If she had thought that he wanted to go to war before, it was nothing compared to the expression on his face now.

  Without preamble, he fisted the gold chain and yanked it clear off her neck. She cried out in shock as it abraded her neck, but Edric didn’t even seem to notice that he had hurt her.

  “Whoever made you his whore will pay for this with his life,” he snarled.

  He flung the necklace and ring into the garden he had saved for her and then stormed from her sight. Cyrene took gasping deep breaths at his exit, unable to grasp how everything had gone so wrong.

  Cyrene plowed back into her room. She ripped out of her nice dress and flung it onto the bed she had been so grateful for. But, no, that was to be no more. It seemed everything was a prison cell. Everyone only wanted to use her or control her, and she’d had enough.

  Edric had made a mistake. A grave mistake.

  Just because he was her king did not give him the right to treat her in such a way. She would never be with anyone because they believed they had power over her. Nor would she give in to this ridiculous notion that she must be consort.

  Consort might have been the one thing she had always wanted, but that was before her journey. Before magic. It seemed so inconsequential now.

  Much like this ring.

  She stared down at the diamond that Dean had given her only a short month ago.

  She’d dug around in the gardens, using the moonlight to locate the glittering gemstone. She didn’t know what had possessed her to look for it. Dean was nothing to her now. Thinking about him made her weary, and it was clear that they could never have a life together.

  But, still, she had searched for it and dropped it back on her finger for safekeeping. It was the memory of a girl who had thought she would be able to have it all. Now, she knew better. Yet she couldn’t get rid of the reminder.

  Cyrene threw on an inconspicuous blue dress, pulled her long dark hair up and out of her face, and then left her beautiful rooms behind. Riches and luxury didn’t woo her the way they once had. Funny thing about sleeping on the floor of a forest bed and running for her life, it put things into perspective.

  When she stepped out of her room, she faltered only for a moment before leaving to find the one person she thought might help her. It was a gamble. But she had to roll the dice.

  When she reached the room, she entered tentatively and breathed a sigh of relief upon finding it empty. She hurried across the enormous room and pressed her ear to the wooden door. It was silent on the other side. With a sigh, she knocked twice and then entered without waiting for an invitation.

  Da
ufina was seated behind her round table with a bottle of wine and a half-empty glass before her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her body hunched forward. When she saw Cyrene, she righted instantly and sent her a venomous glare.

  “What are you doing in my chambers?” she demanded.

  “I’ve come to seek an audience with you.”

  Daufina raised her eyebrows. “I’m to train you in the morning. I don’t think I want to see your face before then. Be gone.”

  “I want you to help me.”

  “And why would I help you with anything? You are my replacement.” She snarled the last word, as if it had a disgusting aftertaste. “You’re just an insolent little girl with a pretty face. Once Kaliana is out of confinement, he’ll completely forget you.”

  Cyrene startled at that news. “The queen is in…confinement? She’s pregnant?”

  Daufina threw her head back and laughed into the heights of her chamber. “And you don’t even know. Didn’t that prince tell you anything about court?”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. This couldn’t be. Queen Kaliana had had many miscarriages since she married the king. Many had given up hope that she would ever carry a baby to term. Yet she was confined, which must mean that she was in her last weeks and would soon give birth.

  “When the king has a son to carry on his line, then he won’t care so much about your pretty face,” Daufina snapped. “And just think about the precedent it is setting. If he can get rid of me so easily, he could do the same to you.”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” she managed to get out.

  Her head was buzzing with the new information. Not that there was a single thing she could do about it at the present. It could just be added to the list of things Kael had purposefully avoided informing her of.

  “Of course not. You’re here for a favor.” Daufina slowly stood, towering over Cyrene. “I don’t deal in favors, especially not with a little girl the king wants to take as his lover again.”

  “Again?” Cyrene countered. “I believe it is your turn to have your facts wrong.”

  Daufina quirked a half-smile. “I was on the barge with you on procession. I was there in Albion when he gave you the best rooms in the palace. I have known Edric far longer than you have. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  “Edric and I have never been together. In fact, only a short while ago, he came to my chambers to remind me of that very fact. Let me speak plainly,” Cyrene said, setting her hand on the table. “I do not want to be the king’s lover.”

  Daufina took a startled step backward. “You want the power then?”

  “Do I look like the kind of person coming to you for power?”

  “Insolent little—”

  “I want out,” Cyrene spat. “I don’t want to be consort. I don’t want any of this. You should keep your position and help me. Help me get out.”

  Daufina stared at her, silent for a minute. “This feels like a trick.”

  Cyrene huffed heavily. “Why else would I be here?”

  “To gloat?”

  “Am I gloating? I’m telling you that I want out of here. You know that I was not kidnapped. You read the letter that I had written to Edric. It was not coerced. What more do I have to do to prove it to you? If you help me, then I will be gone, out of the castle, and you can take over again.”

  Daufina pursed her lips and tapped her finger on her cheek. “I find this all hard to believe.”

  “Fine,” Cyrene cried. “This was a waste of my time then. I took a chance. I’ll figure out another way.”

  She turned on her heel, feeling supremely ridiculous. She knew that she shouldn’t have taken the risk. She should have found her own way to the dungeons and blasted her way out of the place with Ahlvie and Orden. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know there was an alternative exit through the stables. She had figured that out on her first day when she was trapped in one of the underground water chambers on a prank from the other Affiliates and High Order.

  Her hand touched the door when Daufina spoke, “Wait.”

  Cyrene stilled.

  “You truly want to get away from here?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  She couldn’t give Edric what he wanted. She couldn’t process her feelings around Kael. This whole land made her magic sing. She needed to get away to somewhere with no expectations, no obligations, and no prophecies. If that place even existed.

  “I will help you.”

  “Why?” she asked as she turned around.

  “You seem desperate, and it’s in my own interest.”

  “Great. Let’s go tonight.”

  Daufina held up her hand. “It will take me a few days to get things ready.”

  “I don’t have a few days,” she ground out.

  “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise to be able to smuggle you out sooner.”

  “We have to get Ahlvie and Orden as well.”

  Daufina sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Can you do it?”

  “Yes, but I don’t see how it helps me to let the prisoners go.”

  “Because I will not leave without them.”

  “Fine,” Daufina said. “I can handle it. If anyone inquires about this meeting, we’ll have to say that we came to terms with one another. I’ll begin your training, as if nothing has changed. It would be best for both of us to be more…compliant.”

  Cyrene shot her a cheeky smile. “I can do that.”

  “Somehow, I highly doubt compliant is in your repertoire.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Cyrene said, remembering how much easier it was to give in to Kael on the ship than to fight him on every little thing. However, there were some things she would never give in to, and what Edric was asking from her was one of them.

  With that, Cyrene turned on her heel and left Daufina’s chambers. She thought that had gone better than anticipated. Reaching out to Daufina could backfire. She could tell Edric about it as proof of Cyrene’s insolence and try to get her kicked out of the consort position. But Daufina was practical. It would be easier to get rid of her than change Edric’s mind when it was made.

  And this whole thing with Kaliana. She still couldn’t believe that the queen was pregnant. It explained why she hadn’t been seen since Cyrene arrived. There was no way that Kaliana would have let Cyrene become consort without pitching a fit about the whole thing otherwise.

  Cyrene was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she was being tailed at first. She slowed her steps as her heart ratcheted up. Even though she had her magic back, she didn’t truly know how to defend herself. She was about to take off when a man lunged at her with a knife. His hand rammed into her cheek, sending fireworks exploding in her eyes.

  She cried out and barely managed to dodge his next thrust. He was wicked fast, and it was only the adrenaline of the moment that saved her. She reached for that place in the pit of her stomach that called her. The part that was tinged with black and aching to lash out at the world. She thrust her hands out at the man, and he was thrown back like a rag doll against the wall.

  Cyrene leaned over, breathing hard, as she regained her balance. The man was looking at her with wild, wide eyes, but still, he held his flimsy piece of metal. He was battered from her toss but not down for the count. She hadn’t released her magic, and she let it fill her. Let the anger consume her.

  “Come on then,” she spat. “Aren’t you going to try to kill me? A weak, defenseless girl?”

  The man clearly didn’t like the taunt and rushed her again. She was ready for him this time. She threw her magic at him, hauling him up into the air and squeezing her hand to constrict his airflow. He gasped and sputtered before her.

  “Who sent you?”

  He coughed as his face turned blue.

  “Tell me,” she demanded, releasing him enough to let him speak.

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer.”

  She c
lenched her hand again, snapping his wrist as easily as tearing paper. His screams carried down the empty hall. Her anger fueled her forward. She knew she should stop. A little buzzing in her ear said this was wrong, that this wasn’t the way. But her rage finally had a source. She could finally control something in her Creator-forsaken life.

  “Who?” she repeated.

  “Merrick.”

  That one word, and her anger disappeared. She let the man drop like a husk. Merrick. The captain of the royal guard wanted her dead. Of course. That made perfect sense. Using a stranger who could do it quick and clean while she was alone. Blame it on assassins or truly anyone at this point.

  “Who else knows this?” she asked the man.

  “Just…just me.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful to hear,” Kael said, appearing practically out of thin air at the other end of the hallway.

  “What are you doing here?” Cyrene asked.

  “I came to find you. I heard you had an…altercation this evening. And, now, it seems I’m glad to have found you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can handle this for you,” he said, gesturing to the cretin crumpled on the floor.

  “Handle it? I’ll hand him over to Edric and get Merrick executed.”

  Kael smiled. His black cloak billowed behind him as he moved toward Cyrene. He cupped her cheek with his hand and inspected the bruise forming on her cheek. His eyes darkened in the candlelight. He looked murderous. “He did this?”

  “That’s not important right now.”

  Kael tightened his grip on her jaw. “Did he do this?”

  “Yes.”

  Kael nodded. Just once. Then, he faced the man, withdrew his sword, and plunged it into the man’s chest.

  “Kael!” she gasped. “He was our witness.”

  “He saw you use magic. He was a death sentence, not a witness. Now, he got what he deserved.”

  “Are you mad?”

  He withdrew his sword with a sickening sound. “You are still thinking short-term, Cyrene. I am thinking about the future. Merrick is not your only enemy. This castle breeds enemies for your kind.”

  “My kind?” she whispered.

  His eyes slid to her. “You know.”