“I am glad we have an understanding, Lord Rigel.” Father smiles as if he’s being particularly benevolent. “Your loyalty has never gone unnoticed.”
I shiver.
“Seirsha,” Father says, smiling wide. He glances back at Rigel and gives him a sharp nod to the door, bidding him a less than friendly goodbye. “It has come to my attention that Calden came to your chambers the night he was murdered.”
The door presses shut. I know without a doubt Rigel heard.
Though I try to remain calm, my heart races, and my palms begin to sweat. “Yes.”
Father nods and tents his hands in front of him. He’s not old. His dark hair may be streaked with gray, but he is still strong. Many would claim him to be handsome. His eyes are like mine—pale, icy blue. They’re disconcerting.
“You saw him?”
“He was drunk. I sent him away.”
Father watches me, his eyes calculating. “And he left when you bid him?”
I raise my eyebrows, hoping to convey a spirit of indifference to the entire conversation.
“Was your maid there? She’s beautiful, isn’t she? What is her name again?” He snaps his fingers as if it’s just on the tip of his tongue. His mock smile fades. “Ah, yes. Bea.”
“She might have been.” I shrug. “At the time the entire event was of little interest to me.”
“Is that so?”
I narrow my eyes. “It’s not the first time Calden stumbled about the castle intoxicated.”
He smiles as if he knows more than he’s letting on. “No, I suppose it wasn’t.”
He waves me away, and I gladly turn to the door.
“Oh, Seirsha? One more thing.”
I pause and look expectantly over my shoulder.
“There is an alarmingly large number of people who think Rigel should be the next king. We can’t have that.” I wait for him to reach his point. “I believe he is as taken with you as you are him.”
My heart crashes against my ribs, and I turn to face him.
“Position yourself close to him. Earn his loyalty, keep him quiet—do whatever it takes. Report anything to me that may hint at his treason.”
A sick, cold feeling slides over me. “Are you asking me to spy on him? And what exactly does ‘whatever it takes’ mean?”
Father lifts his chin and studies me. “It means exactly what you think it means. And yes—spy on him. Keep him near and report back to me. He’ll think nothing of it. I’ve already offered you to him.”
I blanch at the last of his words.
“What of an alliance with one of the lower kingdoms?” My voice wavers, but there’s no helping it.
“I was sincere in what I said yesterday. By the time I am finished, the lower kingdoms—every one of them—will be begging for a union with you. Any previous alliances you may have made will matter little.”
I straighten my shoulders and bore into him with my eyes. “You’re asking me to prostitute myself so that you may gather information from one of your lords.”
“You needn’t be so vulgar.” Father shakes his head as if he disapproves. “And do not act as if I’m not granting you your heart’s desire. You should be thanking me.” He narrows his eyes, pinning me with his icy stare. “But do not forget, you answer to me, not him.”
***
I slam the outer chamber door as hard as I can. I could scream and rage. Instead, I pace my sitting room.
“Seirsha?”
When I hear Bea’s voice, I jump and hold my hand over my already racing heart. “You startled me.”
Bea takes me in, and her eyes widen. “What’s happened?”
I can’t even tell her. Of course Father would do this. He’s taken something sweet, something dear to me, and he’s tainted it. This love I hold in my heart may be one-sided and certainly doomed, but it was mine, and it was beautiful.
How horrifying the conversation with Rigel must have been. How completely humiliating. There’s no way I can face him. I can’t ride with him and pretend everything is as it should be.
The bells chime the hour. I should be in the stables by now.
Bea doesn’t ask again, but she sits with her darning and gives me silent comfort as I weather this storm alone. She looks relieved when there is a knock at the door.
I look at her, frantic. “I can’t see him!”
Bea nods and waves me into my bedchamber. I close the door behind me and then hesitate, my hand still on the wood. I press my ear close to listen.
She speaks with someone in the hall, but I can’t hear what they are saying. Finally the outer door closes. I rest my head on the door, feeling sick. Bea opens the door, and I step back quickly so I don’t crash to the ground. She gives me an apologetic look, and I realize that we are not alone.
Pippa stands in my sitting room. She comes forward when she sees me at the door. “I don’t know what has happened, but Rigel was beside himself when you didn’t come to the stables.”
Rigel was beside himself? What would that look like? I can’t even imagine him upset. Pippa seems like the type to be drawn to exaggeration, so I don’t take her words to heart.
“Come with us,” she pleads. “We’ve already saddled your horse.”
“I can’t.”
Pippa steps forward. From her determination, I see she’s used to getting her way. What will I have to say to get her to leave?
She’s in a strange dress my father would never approve of. It’s fitted like a gown, but it’s almost as short as a man’s tunic. It has a slit in the front, and, under it, she wears trousers. It must be for riding, but she will likely freeze.
“No matter what has happened, escaping the castle for an afternoon will do you good.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Trust me.”
I shake my head.
She sets her hands on her hips with a stern look, but her voice is soft. “You’ll have to see him eventually. Won’t it be better to get it over with in the near privacy of the stables instead of at a council meeting?”
“What makes you think this is about Rigel?”
Her mouth quirks up. “You have the look of a woman avoiding a man.”
“Go on, Seirsha,” Bea says, surprising me. I glare at my friend, but she only gives me a helpless shrug. “You need the fresh air. You haven’t left the castle in weeks.”
Not since Adrinel left, but she won’t say that in front of Pippa.
As if she knows she’s already won, Pippa nods. “Let’s go.”
The princess attempts to make small talk as we walk down the halls, but my answers are terse. I’m too anxious to be sociable.
We reach the courtyard where the men wait for us. Rigel’s back is toward me. He secures something in his saddlebag, but he goes still when Archer greets us. My hands are restless at my sides. I take a breath to compose myself and try to think of the ride before us instead of the man in front of me.
After we mount our horses, Rigel leads us through the main gates. The sky is bright. Although it’s still cold, there is a pleasantness to the air that hints that warmer weather is on its way. The snow in the valleys has melted, and now the roads are sloppy with mud. Soon we’ll have another spring snowstorm, and once again the landscape will be white. This late in the season, the snow won’t linger long.
A scarlet dragon perches on a jutted peak near the castle, a loner who didn’t leave with the others. She suns her wings as she looks down on us with an air of smugness. The beasts are often found around the villages these days. They do this simply to taunt us. At one time, not long ago, the dragon would have been taken down. Slayers would fight over their share of her hide, and eventually it would be sold to the armorsmiths to be melded with iron and created into the dragon armor Errinton became legendary for.
Due to the treaty signed at the end of the Dragon Wars, we may no longer slay the beasts. In return, they may not attack us. Though life is considerably more peaceful, we have lost our kingdom’s livelihood. Without the dragon armor, we have nothing. Ou
r land is cold and rocky. Sparse native vegetation grows in our cool summer, but there is no grazing land for animals. With the short growing season, and the unfertile soil, crops struggle to grow here as well. Peasants fight nature every year in the attempt to grow just enough in their small gardens to feed their families.
Dragons linger amongst the desolate, solitary peaks, grouping mainly around natural hot springs. They feed off the hardy wildlife that lives here despite the odds. Any animals we do manage to keep must be sheltered or the dragons steal them as well.
The only creature that truly seems to thrive in Errinton is the shaggy, cow-like iktar beast, an animal so unpalatable, even the dragons won’t eat them.
Archer says something, and Rigel glances over his shoulder. His gaze is piercing, and his frustration snaps in the air around him.
He won’t meet my eyes.
I glance at Pippa, excuses to go back forming in my mind. It’s too late, though. We’ve already passed the gates.
I don’t speak to Rigel, and he doesn’t speak to me. Archer and Pippa try to fill in the silence with light conversation, but even their manner is strained. I steal another glance at the dark, brooding lord, but his eyes are everywhere but on me.
Chapter Six
“Do you ride often?” Pippa asks, matching her pace with mine.
“No.”
She laughs. “I would if I were you. There’s a heaviness in your castle; I felt the weight of it the moment we entered.”
The Lauramorian princess has no idea.
I’ve never been to Lauramore—I’ve never been anywhere, for that matter—but they are known to be a vibrant little kingdom. We’re on better terms with their royal family than any other in Elden. Their princess marrying one of our lords did our tentative alliance no harm.
We’re about an hour from the castle, and Pippa is right. The air seems lighter the farther we ride. We stay in the valleys, not wishing to venture higher on the still-snowy mountain trails.
Rigel hasn’t spoken to me.
He and Archer ride ahead of us, talking again of ore, mining, and other things I know little about. Pippa said the ride would clear the air, but she was wrong. I feel as if there is a stretched cord between us, and as the day goes on, the tighter it is pulled. Eventually, the tension will be too much, and the cord will snap, leaving us worse off than we were to begin with.
“Pippa,” Archer calls over his shoulder, giving her a smirk that would make my heart lurch if it were directed at me. “Do you see that large boulder?”
She and her fair horse race forward, startling me. Archer’s off in a flash, and the two of them are neck in neck, racing across the valley. Her laughter cuts through the cool afternoon air.
I stare at them, dumbfounded.
“What are they doing?” I ask Rigel, too startled to care we aren’t speaking.
He eyes the pair. “I believe they’re enjoying themselves.”
There’s a yearning in his wry answer. His dark eyes finally meet mine, and the air leaves my lungs. A dull ache spreads in the empty spot where my heart once held hope.
“I wonder what that would be like,” I murmur.
Rigel lets out a breath that’s not quite a sigh. It’s a sound of resignation. He nudges his horse on. I follow, and we lead our mounts at a sedate walk.
“Seirsha, I…” He shakes his head.
Rigel won’t look at me again, but somehow it’s easier this way. At first, I focus on the pair in front of us, but they are too happy—too free. I look instead at the craggy peaks in the distance. Rigel runs a hand through his hair and growls with frustration, as if he’s searching for the words to break the tension between us, but he can’t find them.
“He wants me to spy on you,” I say as I focus on the trees in the distance. A sudden breeze whips at my hair, and I pull my cloak tight around my shoulders.
From the corner of my eye, I see him tilt his head in my direction. “There would be nothing to report.”
His attention is on my boot instead of my face.
Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away. When he doesn’t say anything else, I cautiously glance at him.
His eyes rise to mine. “You are worth so much more than he wants you to believe.”
I clench my jaw, trying to trap in whatever emotion it is that I’m feeling.
“I won!” Pippa calls to us. She tosses her head in triumph. Archer gives her an indulgent smile.
Glad for the distraction, I say, “They’re nauseating.”
My chest constricts with something that conspicuously feels like jealousy. I scowl, irritated with myself.
“They were worse during the tournament,” Rigel says. “All longing glances and stolen moments.”
Completely unbidden, a smile plays on my lips.
He frowns. “What is it?”
I sneak a peek at him. “I never thought I would hear you say ‘longing glances’ or ‘stolen moments’—and certainly not in the same breath.”
Rigel shakes his head as a grin stretches across his face. “Well, let’s hope I never have to say them again.”
And with that, the tension lifts.
***
“We should turn back,” Rigel says.
The sun is low in the sky, and the breeze is quite cold. Here in the valleys, there’s nothing to block the wind. The nights are brutal.
Still, I don’t want to return.
I watch the setting sun. What would happen if I were to continue riding south? Could I assimilate into one of the lower kingdoms? Trade my crown for a position as a kitchen maid? Even if I could escape and find a way to eke out a living, Father would take his wrath out on Bea and her family.
“You look pensive,” Pippa says from my side.
Her unruly hair slipped from its braid long ago, and she’s set it free. It falls down her back in a cascade of red and gold curls.
“Where’s your mother from?” I ask.
She grasps a strand of her hair and holds it up in question.
I nod.
“Ptarma.” She flicks her hair back. “Mother’s hair is even darker red than mine.”
“What is Ptarma like?” I’m unable to keep the wistful quality from my voice.
Pippa shrugs. “I’ve never been there, but in my mind, it’s glorious.”
The kingdom is a small island to the southwest of Triblue, the southernmost kingdom in Elden. Ptarma is known for its huge blooming flowers, majestic white marble cliffs, and day after day of glorious sunshine. I would like to see it someday.
“I’ve heard it’s warm,” I say.
“All year long.”
I glance at the snowy peaks. “Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
Ahead of us, Rigel laughs at something Archer says. I absently reach for my pendant and run it through my fingers, taking comfort in the familiar coil of the silver against the cold, smooth stone.
Archer calls back to Pippa. I have no idea what he says because Rigel turns as well, and our eyes meet. The dark lord is tall and strong and much too handsome for my good. His hair, though shorter than it’s ever been, is just long enough to be disheveled from the ride. I used to dream of running my fingers through that hair, of brushing the light but persistent stubble along his chin. Now I would settle for a graze of his fingers down my arm.
“Seirsha?”
I start and look at Pippa. She’s asked me something. She quirks an eyebrow, waiting. I stare at her, grasping for what I must have heard.
Her lips tip as if she knows exactly where my thoughts have drifted. “I asked if you would mind going ahead with Rigel so Archer and I can find the stone dragon over the hill. I’ve never seen it, and it’s a shame to be this far out without taking a glimpse.”
I glance at Rigel only to rip my eyes back to Pippa. “We’ll go with you.”
Her eyes flicker as if I’m being obtuse. “You don’t want to return too late.”
Oh. Oh.
It’s at least an hour back to the castle. Can I bear t
hat much time alone with Rigel?
“That’s fine,” I say as if it’s no consequence to me whether they go or stay.
She snorts out a tiny laugh. It’s not loud enough for Rigel to hear, but her face is easy to read. Rigel reminds them again where the statue stands, and they break away. Pippa waves their goodbyes as they go.
For the first fifteen minutes, Rigel and I ride side by side in silence. A gust of wind howls through the valley. Pippa must be freezing in her riding outfit. I pull up the hood of my cloak to stop the wind and relish the feel of the soft, white fur.
“Are you warm enough?” Rigel asks.
I nod. He nods as well.
More silence.
Suddenly Rigel draws his horse to a stop and turns toward me in his saddle. “It was Calden who struck you.”
I inhale sharply.
“Of course not,” I lie.
“And your maid?”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. My shoulders begin to tremble. I wish he’d turn his sharp eyes from me. He throws his leg over his horse and drops to the ground, holding his hand out so that I may do the same.
“Why have you stopped?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows.
Doing a fairly good job of keeping my voice even, I say, “There is nothing to tell.”
Rigel frowns, tilts his head, and holds his hand a little higher. I search his eyes again, and he gives me an encouraging nod. Finally, I clasp his hand. The contact is searing, and as scared as I am of him knowing the truth of that night, I can’t help but sigh at the feel of my hand in his.
I expect him to step away when my feet touch the ground, but instead he brushes his fingers against my cheek. “What did he do to you?”
Knowing it’s futile, I shake my head again.
“You’re safe with me.” His voice is gentle, soothing. “You always have been.”
His hand still rests on my face, and I can hardly think. Everything I’ve come to love about him is there in his eyes—his honesty, his steadfastness. I’ve never met a person I have more respect for.
But I can’t trust him; I don’t trust anyone.
I look at the ground. “I told you, I hit it on a cabinet door.”
Rigel sighs, disappointed I won’t admit what he already knows. I’m not a fool. I don’t think I can deceive him, but I can’t tell him, either.
The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 53