by K. M. Shea
Ariane held a hand to her still rapidly beating heart and nodded.
“The guards will take you to the chateau’s barber-surgeon. If you’ll excuse me, I must alert the guests and speak to the guards.” Severin offered Elle a shallow bow, making her blink in surprise.
Slightly dumbfounded, she followed Severin out of the war-torn bedroom and found herself surrounded by guards. Shaking her head over the night’s events, she followed the guards as they led the way out of the family wing.
Say what you will about the spreading evil, the Loire royal family has changed dramatically because of it.
Late that night, Lucien remained awake with his brother and the Erlauf representative—Colonel Friedrich—in Severin’s study as they reviewed and ordered more protective security measures.
Lucien sat next to the tea tray Elle had delivered over an hour ago and glanced over the map of Chanceux Chateau Severin had spread out across the desk.
“We’ve placed more soldiers at these entrances and increased the patrols through the guest wing and the family wing.” Severin planted his hands on the edge of his desk and scowled down at the map.
Lucien studied his brother with mounting concern as he munched on a cookie. Maybe the mages weren’t as stupid as I thought. Severin’s forehead is going to be permanently wrinkled if he keeps this up, and this is just over two rogue mages attacking me. If they really did manage to off me, he might over-react. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Severin. As much as it pains me to say it, your decision to temporarily make me a frog was a wise one. The Summit has been undisturbed. Everything is fine.”
“We’ve doubled the guard, swept the grounds, and a number of mages attending the Summit have bolstered the protection spells. I don’t think we can make further arrangements tonight,” Colonel Friedrich added.
Severin shook his head. “This never should have happened in the first place. How do they keep slipping past our security?”
Lucien shrugged—or tried to. The movement of his shoulders was not very visible against his large girth. “They have magic. Unless you have a protective barrier like Verglas has, there’re a thousand ways they can worm through.”
“It’s a real shame we can’t borrow some Magic Knights of Sole. They really are the best option at guarding against rogue magic users.” The Erlauf colonel adjusted his eyepatch. “My wife has a pendant that protects her from some magic attacks, and it cost a pretty penny. The cost withstanding, perhaps we should see if Craftmage Stil could make more items like it?”
“What we need is help from the Veneno Conclave.” Severin sighed.
“Have you heard any news from them?” Colonel Friedrich asked.
Severin rubbed his forehead. “Just the usual excuses—they are stretched too thin and have too many mages out on assignments already.”
“Some of my Rangers reported that they seem to have a select group of mages they are sending out to deal with the few magical catastrophes they agree to solve,” Lucien swiped another cookie off the tea tray. “Those specific mages are getting run ragged as a result. Those who can afford independence—like Craftmage Stil—are more sympathetic and aware of our plight, as they travel and have seen the state of the continent with their own eyes. However, the vast majority of the magic users remain cloistered at their Academy. I suspect they are afraid of what is going on, or they wouldn’t be insistent on consolidating their forces.”
Severin stared at him. “When did you recruit an Intelligencer good enough to send to the Veneno Conclave?”
Lucien heaved his eyes to the ceiling—as much as he could, anyway. “I did not send Elle.”
Colonel Friedrich folded his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “At least we have an enchantress on our side. Angelique has been a real asset.”
“Yes,” Severin agreed. “Though I fear she is on the brink of collapse due to exhaustion.”
“So are you,” Lucien pointed out.
“Hardly,” Severin snorted. “I am fine.”
Lucien doubted that, but he did know Severin would likely never be as close to collapse as the Lady Enchantress Angelique was—Elle would drug him before she let that happen.
“You said earlier you think these assassination attempts are about me,” Severin said. “What would make you say that?”
Lucien shrugged—or tried to anyway. “It was something they said. At one point the female suggested kidnapping, but the male disagreed and said it wouldn’t have the same effect on you as finding my body.”
Colonel Friedrich thoughtfully tilted his head. “Why would they say a silly thing like that? Killing you would raise Loire’s wrath.”
Lucien snorted. “It wouldn’t, really. I’m a pretty poor crown prince. I think many would be relieved to see Severin take over.”
“Lucien—” Severin started, his amber eyes darkened with pain and concern.
“As noble and heart-warming as your belief in me is, Severin, it is the truth. I imagine the real point of the assassination attempt is to wound Severin—even if it is only mentally.” Lucien studied his brother with narrowed frog eyes. Yes, if he wasn’t my brother in every manner, it would be easy to hate him. But he is, and I wouldn’t exchange it for anything. He cleared his throat. “It makes sense. If they tried to face him themselves, they would surely get a crossbow bolt through the heart for their troubles.”
Colonel Friedrich laughed. “Princess Elle does have fast reflexes.”
Severin slightly inclined his head—the only sign of agreement Lucien would get. “It doesn’t matter. We’re never going to give them a chance to confirm your suspicions regarding their motives, Lucien,” he growled.
The study was uncomfortably quiet for several long moments.
Colonel Friedrich muffled a yawn and broke the tension. “I’m afraid I must retire. It’s already well past my beauty sleep. I’m glad you weren’t hurt, Your Highness.” He nodded to Lucien.
Lucien attempted another shrug. “I wasn’t ever in much danger.” Ariane, however…
When Lucien had been dumped out of the window, he experienced the rare phenomena of fear gripping his heart. Not from the drop—he knew he could survive it—but because he didn’t know what would happen to the mouthy maid.
When was the last time I was that afraid? Lucien wondered as he recalled the tight feeling in his chest and his franticly pounding heart. When I learned Arcainia had set the Verglas Assassins Guild on Severin? For certain when that witch turned him into a beast. But why?
Severin was Lucien’s brother and best friend. There was more to their relationship than words could explain. But Ariane was a maid.
A maid with a snarky mouth and a brave heart. Not to mention she has the intelligence of a fox. I’m starting to grow sick of that knowing look she gives me whenever she can tell I’m faking disinterest.
Maybe that was why he liked her. Most ladies Lucien met either giggled and did their best to charm him, or they were too intelligent for his prattle and thought him a foolish dandy. Ariane was one of the few who seemed to see more than he revealed.
That was a rare feat.
Still…to say I like her is a bit much. He recalled seeing the dark shadows squeezing her throat and sucked a breath of air in—almost croaking against his will. Or perhaps it is not. I may be less intelligent than Severin, but I’m at least smart enough to realize my own preferences. It seems she has become more important to me than I thought.
He mulled over the idea for a moment, then nodded to himself. Yes. It is true.
The realization was not particularly shocking or scandalous. Lucien was selfish and arrogant enough that he didn’t care what others thought of his personal life. He found Ariane amusing. So it would be.
“You two will turn in soon?” the colonel asked.
Severin silently moved an inkwell around his desk.
“We will,” Lucien assured the foreign prince/colonel. “Or Elle will come for him soon.”
Colonel Friedrich laughed.
“Strong women are so loveable.”
Lucien snorted, but a soft smile curled across Severin’s lips. “They are,” he agreed.
Lucien made a noise of disgust. Good gads. I hope I never grow as hopelessly in love as Severin. Then I’ll really be an idiot.
Chapter 7
Precautionary Measures
The following day, Lucien kept yawning and stayed flopped on his pillow, even when the Summit adjourned for a brief tea break in the stables.
“Acting nonchalant over a matter this exciting will not impress anyone.” Ariane blinked as they entered the shaded stables. The unfamiliar smell of hay and leather washed over her as horses nickered and stamped their legs.
“What is there to be excited about?” Lucien asked. “We get to see a bloodthirsty killer. Huzzah.”
The selkie princess had brought a Kelpie—the first to ever be domesticated, if that was the right word—with her to Chanceux. As water horses were a species that normally preyed upon anything in the sea, humans included, it wasn’t a creature many survived seeing. So when the princess had mentioned her unusual mount, the royal representatives and nobles—who had spent the past week determining the fate of their continent—eagerly clamored for the chance to see it.
“This way,” Princess Dylan called. She had been arm-in-arm with her female friend, but she released her and hurried to the back of the stables.
Ariane, Colonel Friedrich, Queen Linnea, Mage Firra, Mage Donaigh, and several others followed the sea princess—albeit with a great deal more concern.
The water horse was black with a damp mane and tail that were both cloud gray. Its eyes were glazed white, and gray dapples covered its hindquarters. A fishy aroma wafted from it, and bits of dried seaweed stuck to its legs.
It glared and bared its teeth at its cautious audience.
Princess Dylan ignored its bad temper and slipped into its stall to dump several buckets of water over its back. The horse sneered at the observers and lunged at Colonel Friedrich, narrowly missing the Erlauf prince’s arm.
Dylan lightly slapped the carnivorous equine’s neck. “Watch yourself. That’s no way to act,” she scolded.
Ariane held her breath, but the kelpie didn’t mind the admonishment. Instead, it pushed its muzzle into Princess Dylan’s curly hair and breathed deeply several times.
“It’s incredible,” Ariane said in awe. She had never seen a kelpie before—she had never wanted to; they occupied her “creatures to avoid” list with wyverns and dragons. But seeing Princess Dylan with the water horse—even if it was still mostly wild and bloodthirsty—made it beautiful.
“It’s a man eater,” Lucien said dryly.
Prince Callan—Dylan’s fiancé—laughed at Lucien’s observation. “It’s a dangerous beast for anyone but Dylan, but I’ve learned it’s just as dangerous to try and keep it from her.” The prince winced and rubbed his left forearm. “It broke into the palace once when she went too long without visiting it. I’ll see to it that never happens again.”
“He is like the sea.” Dylan dragged the kelpie’s muzzle from her hair and pressed her cheek against it. “Dangerous but beautiful.” She patted his neck and pushed his mane over the crest. Her forehead wrinkled as she pointed out a crescent-shaped patch of missing hair. “Were you bitten?” She murmured.
As if he could understand her, the kelpie turned its head and glared at the animal that occupied the only stall near it—a giant, horse-sized donkey.
The donkey mindlessly chewed his hay but swiveled its ears. When it noticed the kelpie sneering at it, it released a deep-gutted bray—which sounded a bit like a rusty door slamming shut.
The kelpie snorted and thrust its head into Princess Dylan’s arms, though it still glared at the donkey, plotting its revenge.
“I believe that animal is Pricker Patch,” Queen Linnea said. “It belongs to Craftmage Stil. Given its owner, I am unsurprised it was bold enough to pick a fight with a kelpie.”
“It’s a surprise the kelpie didn’t kill it,” Lucien yawned. “It could have easily broken its neck. Stop that,” he complained when Ariane jiggled the cushion.
Ariane stepped backwards, edging away from the continuing conversation.
“What do you feed it?” Mage Donaigh asked.
“Fresh fish mostly, but it will eat squid or octopus,” Princess Dylan said.
The conversation soon fell out of hearing range as Ariane admired the beautiful horses that filled the guest stables.
“Up ahead is one of Rider Nareena’s horses.” Though Lucien sounded incredibly bored, Ariane did not miss the way he propped himself up so he could view the animals better.
“Which one?” Ariane asked.
“Here.” Lucien pointed a frog leg at a large horse that was a deep black color. It had feathery black hairs that covered its hooves, and its mane and tail were elaborately braided, but in the shade of the stables, there was almost a purple glow to its fur—like a crow’s feathers.
Ariane studied the horse with a thoughtful frown.
The horse, in turn, shifted to study her.
“There’s something about it that seems…different,” Ariane said.
“I should think so,” Lucien snorted. “The King’s Riders are all given horses by the elves. They are far smarter and have superior physical abilities than even the best bloodlines of human domesticated horses.”
Ariane glanced down at Lucien. “How do you remember all this?”
Lucien blinked up at her with his large, bulbous eyes. “Remember what?”
“Everything.” Ariane said. “You memorized every person who is attending the summit—even if you didn’t know them beforehand. I cannot fathom being able to do that.”
Lucien snorted. “Memorizing is simple. Even a fool could do it.”
Ariane tilted her head as she studied the elf horse. “Which begs another question, why do you do that?”
“Is there a reason why you have suddenly grown unable to give specifics today?”
“Why do you pretend to be silly and foolish, when you’re actually clever?”
“That is where you are incorrect. I’m actually not clever.”
“Yes, you are.” Ariane strolled from the stables—falling silent for a moment when they passed a group composed of Prince Severin, Rider Nareena, and Emperor Yevgeniy. “Throughout the Summit, I’ve seen proof multiple times. You might pretend to nap or be bored, but you listen and grasp what’s happening. No matter how you protest, you are intelligent. So why the act?”
Lucien was silent for several moments.
Did I push him too far?
“Because there isn’t really a point,” Lucien said finally. “Severin is brilliant. Whatever I come up with will be inferior. I need him.”
“Because you fear you aren’t as brilliant as Severin, you don’t even try?” Ariane asked.
“Why should I make myself live with the knowledge of always being the second-best?”
“Because you’re not.” Ariane snorted. “You catch many things that Prince Severin does not.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ariane paused in the shade of a large tree. “Your memory. Normal people don’t remember everything like you do. They don’t remember the faces and names of all the servants in the palace. They don’t have entire books memorized. Yes, Prince Severin can manage the military better than anyone else…but he sees the world with eyes of strategy and tactics. You see the individuals.”
“Even if I do, that doesn’t change anything,” Lucien argued. “I can memorize books—who cares? That won’t help me make a decision in this Summit! Knowing the name of all those in my service does not help me decide whether to raise or lower taxes.”
Ariane stared down at Lucien and felt her heart break for the crown prince. He could hate Severin—by all rights he should. He’s illegitimate, yet respected, and Lucien thinks Severin is better than him. But he still loves him. Which means I was wrong about him. Yes, he is maddeningly arrogant,
but he’s not selfish. He has the incredible ability to love deeply—no matter what the rest of the world thinks.
But how can I make him see that he has just as much to offer the people of Loire as Prince Severin?
“Has it ever occurred to you that Prince Severin needs you?”
“He does,” Lucien said. “But in a very different way. I can shield him from the worst of the courts, so I do. That is why the way I act is necessary. The things I’m good at have very little application in real problems. I’m better off setting the bar low and snapping at anyone fool enough to challenge Severin.”
“But Lucien…he wants you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
Ariane shook her head. “You’re pretending to be something you aren’t. How can that make you happy?”
“I have everything I want and live a relatively carefree life.” Lucien shrugged. “There is no need to change the status quo.”
Ariane pressed her lips together.
Lucien puffed his chest. “What? You clearly wish to say something. You might as well say it.”
She almost sighed. “You might think you are happy now, but one day you will miss out on something you long for because you are afraid to take the risk of reaching your true potential.”
“That day will never come,” Lucien said. “What I have now is enough for me.”
I hope not…for the sake of Loire’s future. Ariane shook her head. Imagine…what would Loire be like with Prince Severin leading our military and Prince Lucien leading the country?
Late the following evening, Ariane made the trek from Lucien’s quarters to her temporary room after dropping the prince off. She intended to retire early, but she paused when she passed a maid carrying a bucket and a mop. My rump hurts from all the sitting, and there was a cobweb on a candelabra in the ballroom that has been mocking me for two days now. Surely I can do a little cleaning—it’s why I was brought here after all.
Ariane switched directions and instead headed for the nearest supply room where she would be able to swipe a cleaning cloth or two.