Rebel's Blade (The Aermian Feuds Book 1)

by Frost Kay

  It was a logical plan. He didn’t like her being so close, but it seemed like the best option. The rebel would hate being thought of as his mistress. He liked the idea, but the long-term consequences concerned him. “Her reputation will be ruined,” he worried.

  Sam scoffed. “Her reputation was ruined when you flashed most of her body to most of the people residing in the castle. There’ve also been the nightly visits from Gav, you, and me. Not to mention, we don’t know who she is. She’s in character, a cover. Ruby will cease to exist when she leaves.”

  “You think she will escape?” Tehl asked.

  “It’s just a matter of time, Tehl. Be thankful she’s as sick as she is. I will keep the Elite on her at all times but she’s good. Once she is healed, there isn’t any place that could hold her…” Sam trailed off. “If we can get her on our side, she would make the perfect spy. She’s unlike anyone I have come across.” Sam’s voice was full of awe.

  For some reason, that rankled Tehl. He brushed it aside, pinching a grape between his fingers. “Can we turn her?”

  Sam considered this for a moment, staring blankly at the wall behind him. “I think so. She is not an anarchist. She legitimately wants to help her kingdom. She’s been led to believe the Crown is doing nothing for its people. If we show her what we do, and how we are dealing with Scythia, it may soften her enough to give her pause over her chosen ties with those of the rebellion.”

  Frankly, Tehl had his doubts about anything being able to ‘soften’ the vivacious girl, but it was worth a try. He shrugged.

  Footsteps caught both their attention, and a moment later their cousin came into view. Gav dropped into the chair next to Tehl and began picking out an assortment of fruit, pastries, cheeses, and meats.

  “Good morning,” Gav said cheerily before digging into the feast before him.

  Sam stood and circled his own chair, gripping the top of it. “Good, we are all here. I explained the situation to Tehl, but you need to be informed of the developments.” Gav focused his attention on Sam, continuing to shovel eggs into his mouth. “If anyone asks you about your new mistress, be evasive but don’t deny that you have one.”

  Gav paused mid-bite, his eggs slipping from his fork comically. Gav gaped at the two of them. “What new mistress? What the devil are you talking about? I’ve never had a mistress, and I certainly never will. And why would anyone ask me about it?” Gav spluttered.

  Sam winced. “Members of the court, and servants, saw each of us enter the infirmary for the night. They drew their own conclusions. They are not sure which one of us she belongs to. There are some who believe she belongs to all of us.”

  Gavriel set his fork down, his nose flaring as he drew in a deep breath. “You mean to tell me that our court assumed that all three of us had her? Why would you ever tolerate such an obscene conclusion?” Gav’s voice dipped down lower.

  Tehl held up his hands in innocence. “I have been trying to convince them for the last few days that she is not mine,” he said.

  Gav pinned Sam with his gaze. “This was your idea?”

  “Yes.” No remorse.

  Gav glowered at his breakfast. “I can understand how this would tactically be the best choice.”

  Sam beamed. “Thank you, I am glad you see it that way. I—”

  “I wasn’t finished,” Gav cut him off. “This will brand her. You know what they will call her right?” He looked to both of them. “They will consider her a whore. She’ll lose any chance of a regular life with a good man.”

  “I anticipated that. No one has seen her face, nor does anyone know anything about her. Even if any of the information leaks, her name is fake. I searched high and low for information about who she is. I haven’t found a single thing about her. When ‘Ruby’ disappears so will that reputation.”

  “What happens if we get her to switch and work with us? She will be seen around the palace,” Tehl interjected.

  “That’s why she is in the royal wing. We can control who sees her. Anyone who saw her face when you took her to the infirmary won’t recognize her once she heals. Even since we pulled her from the dungeon, she looks different. Gav, you have seen her, what do you think?”

  Tehl glanced over to Gav and watched as he pushed his food around his plate.

  “She looks like a different person from when we pulled her from the dungeon, it’s true, and she is still covered in cuts and bruises. When she is fully healed, she won’t be recognized by anyone except the ones who have had close contact with her—like Jeffry, Jacob, and Mira. Who are the servants that are taking care of her meals and chambers?”

  Sam piped up. “I chose a special few who worked with our mother and are discreet. Also, the same four Elite have guarded the infirmary for the last couple of days. They are trustworthy, I have no doubts in their loyalty to us.”

  “You realize if they think she is one of ours you must stop entertaining female company. Can you do that?” Gav challenged, a sardonic lift to one eyebrow.

  Sam carelessly waved away his question. “It won’t be a problem. Besides, even if I still kept my female company, it would keep people guessing. They would wonder if I was just a scoundrel stepping out on my mistress, or if she belonged to one of you.” Gav wrinkled his nose and resumed eating. “Any more concerns?” Sam inquired.

  Both men grunted ‘no’, and Gavriel resumed eating. Tehl watched him eat in morbid fascination. Was his cousin chewing his food? He was inhaling it. One moment there was a pile on his plate, and the next there was none. “Little hungry, cousin?” Tehl teased.

  Gav scowled at him and wiped his mouth. “I didn’t get to eat dinner last night, and then I practiced with the Elite this morning. Don’t judge me, I am starving. At least I don’t have honey and biscuit stuck to my face,” he retorted sourly.

  Tehl brushed his cheek, his fingers sticking to the honey. He viciously scrubbed at it with his palm. “Why didn’t you tell me, Sam? You would let me leave like that?”

  Sam tugged on his pierced right ear. “I thought it was funny. Gavriel said nothing either until you teased him.”

  Tehl huffed at his brother, dropping his gaze to the table. Sam’s plan was reasonable, and it didn’t have any holes in it that he saw, but it still didn’t sit right with him. He hated the idea of anyone thinking he had a mistress, let alone one he would share with other men. Possessiveness surged through him at the idea. When he found the right woman, he would never share. She would be his and his alone.

  Sam strolled to the end of the table and looked out of the window at the cerulean ocean. “Gavriel, I told the girl you would stay with her from now on,” he said absently.

  Gav cradled the back of his head with his laced fingers. “Why is that? We were taking turns.”

  “She doesn’t like me.”

  Gav snickered but turned it into a cough at the black look Sam gave him. “I don’t know how that is possible,” Gav deadpanned.

  “She wants you.”

  Gav stilled for a moment. “Why?”

  “She remembers you pulling her down from the chains, I suppose she associates you with safety. Last night…” Sadness passed over Sam’s face. “She was terrified of me when she saw me—she scrambled back so fast she fell to the floor. She didn’t possess enough energy to run, so she crawled away from me. I wanted to rip someone’s head off when I left. She is a complete wreck. She needs your calming personality, Gav.”

  Gavriel’s face softened. “I understand. I will watch over her, and who knows. Perhaps she will open up if she feels safe.”

  “If she sees you as a savior or a friend she may soften. You are what we need to get her to switch sides or even just act as an intermediate between the Crown and the rebellion. She could stop a civil war.” Sam paced as he spoke and then looked straight at Tehl. “I have news you won’t be happy about. The captain awaiting judgment for his crimes against Ruby has disappeared.”

  The silence was deafening. A pin-drop could have been heard.


  He got away.

  The sick bastard got away.

  “Did I hear you correctly?” Gav hissed in his soft, scary voice. Gavriel was about to lose his temper, and it would be a sight to behold. “You let him get away?”

  “I didn’t let him do anything.” Sam’s voice whipped through the air. “He was publicly stripped of his title and locked in his rooms awaiting judgment.” His brother’s fists clenched, and small tremors shook his arms. “I visited him this morning to exact some old-fashioned justice after I left that poor girl in the infirmary. But he was gone. My people are searching, but so far there has been nothing.”

  Tehl felt his blood boil. It wasn’t Sam’s fault. Tehl knew his brother blamed himself. He took a moment and reigned in his temper.

  His brother’s anguished eyes met his as he continued, “I promised her she would be safe from him this morning. That he would be punished.”

  Serge would be punished. Tehl would make sure of it.

  Gav rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved with ragged breaths. Tehl hadn’t seen Gav this upset since Emma died.

  Tehl gave his cousin a moment to collect himself and centered his attention on Sam. “Use any resources necessary. He needs to be found. He is a danger to Sanee.”

  “I agree. If you will excuse me, I would like to go hunting myself. I will see you at the war preparation meeting this afternoon.” With that, Sam pushed off the wall and stalked toward the exit.

  “Brother,” he called after him. Sam paused, looking at him expectantly. “When you find him…bring him to me.”

  Sam gave him a wicked smile and a slight bow. “It will be done, my prince.”

  “And so the plot thickens,” Gav mused. “My question is, why would he run? His punishment would have been severe, but he wouldn’t have hung. Serge wasn’t known as cowardly so this doesn’t fit with his character. He was of the Guard, not the Elite so I can’t figure out how he made it past them. Most would have been found by Sam’s spies by now. It doesn’t bode well that they’re turning up nothing. We’ve got to be missing something.”

  “As much as I would like to pursue it myself, Sam is the best. He will find him.” Tehl rapped his knuckles on the table and pushed back his chair. It was time to start his day. He would have to put this aside and trust Sam to do his job.

  Tehl scratched the back of his neck, and his nose wrinkled. “I need a bath before I get hounded about the Midsummer Festival. I will meet you at the meeting.”

  “One thing before you go. Is it necessary I stay with her during the night? Her rooms are close to ours—if anything were to happen, we would hear it.”

  “I don’t need you there for protection; but I do want you there so she can feel safe and secure.”

  He examined Tehl as he mulled it over. His cousin rolled his neck as he stood. “I understand. I’ll do my best.” Gav clapped him on the shoulder as he left.

  Tehl hoped this went as planned. He was tired of feeling one step behind.

  Twenty-Three

  SAGE

  A salty sea breeze ruffled Sage’s hair, loosening strands from her braid. She sat on her balcony, watching the gulls heckle and chase each other playfully. As the cool air kissed her bare arms, it left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She tightened her shawl about her, enjoying the summer’s day.

  Mira sat beside her, humming a little tune as she sewed. Over the last few days, she’d established a sort of routine. Gavriel left before she woke each day, so she enjoyed a quiet breakfast with the healer before stepping into her bath. Afterward, Mira would rub her with special oils to help open her lungs while she let her hair dry by the fire. It was around this time that the sweet healer turned evil, forcing Sage to walk the rooms until her legs shook. After this torture, Mira would read to her until lunch, and then they’d eat together. Once Sage had a full belly, she would inevitably fall asleep.

  She still wasn’t sure if it was due to her body healing itself or Mira slipping something into her tea.

  When she woke, Mira would move her out to the balcony, and that was her favorite part of the day.

  She had learned a lot about Mira. She’d told her about growing up with her family until she became an orphan at the tender age of eleven. She became a ward of the Crown and ended up in the palace. Jacob’s wife had taken notice of her, deciding to take the young girl under her wing. Jacob too, had opened his arms to her, and together they basically raised Mira. Growing up watching Jacob help people had cultivated within her a desire to help as well, and that’s how the little blonde became the only woman healer of their nation.

  Mira asked Sage questions here and there, but she never probed. She tried to answer Mira’s questions as honestly as possible.

  Once the sun began to sink below the horizon they would move inside and have dinner. Sage would stare into the fire, missing her family and pondering her escape. Once she climbed into bed, Gavriel would magically appear. He was always kind and never made her uncomfortable. Sage didn’t love that he stayed the night in her room, but he placed his cot so it sat on the far side of the room. She was also comforted by the fact that she kept a stolen knife stashed beneath her pillow. She would never be helpless again.

  Right before she fell asleep, Jacob would shuffle in to check on her. Sage swore he was made of kindness, jokes, and smiles, ever full of exuberance, joy, and just a pinch of mischief.

  She could barely make out someone muttering, so she pulled her eyes from the rolling waves, looking instead to the interrupter of her thoughts. “What did you say, Mira?”

  Concern marred Mira’s face. “I called your name twice before you answered. Are you all right?”

  “I am fine.” Sage smiled softly. “I was deep in thought, that’s all.”

  “Anything you want to share?”

  “Nothing important, just wishful thinking. I am a little stir crazy, and I envy the gulls and their freedom. Sometimes I wish I could fly, too.” Sage peered through her lashes at her companion, hopeful. “I am better today. My lungs aren’t giving me as much trouble as they have been. I am strong enough for a short walk.”

  Mira shook her head. “You aren’t ready now, but in two or three days you should be. I will talk to Jacob and get his opinion, and perhaps we can go from there. How does that sound?”

  Sage pushed down her resentment, knowing her friend was not the true source of it. She forced a smile onto her face. “That sounds reasonable, thank you, Mira.”

  Jacob would first talk to the crown prince of her request to get out and walk. Embittered at the level of control that tyrant had over every aspect of her life had her heaving out a frustrated breath.

  She returned her gaze to the bobbing ships in the ocean and the oyster fishermen preparing to sail back into the harbor. At that moment, she heard the creak of her door and the heavy tread of boots moving through her room toward them.

  “That must be Jacob, I knew he would come early,” Mira explained, rolling her eyes. “We’re out he—” Mira choked on her own sentence.

  Sage glanced at her tongue-tied friend to see what had startled her. Mira hastily dropped her sewing to the ground, sinking into a curtsy. Sage tensed, knowing whoever was approaching was not someone she wanted to see. She hadn’t seen Mira that flustered before. Sage focused on the double doors, battling her terror. She would not become a victim. A huge, rugged older man filled her balcony doorway. His steel dark blue gaze swept over her, pausing on the curtseying healer at his feet.

  “Your Majesty, please forgive me!” Mira cried.

  Sage’s eyes widened, and her heart flew to her throat.

  It was the king.

  The king.

  King Marq.

  “It’s nothing, please leave us.” His voice was gruff and deep.

  Sage shivered and stared pleadingly at the healer, who hadn’t taken her eyes from the king since he first stepped foot on the terrace.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Mira stood and met her eye
s, flashing her an apologetic smile before scurrying out of the room.

  Traitor.

  Sage vaguely heard the door close behind Mira as she stared at her friend’s empty chair, numbness seeping into her limbs. What did his visit mean? What could he want? She rubbed her eyes and blinked up at him. He still stood on her balcony; she wasn’t imagining things.

  The king of Aermia was in her room.

  He glided confidently from the doorway to the balcony, resting his large, weathered hands on the stone railing. Other than the initial glance, he had yet to look at her.

  She couldn’t help but stare. He was nothing like she imagined. She’d expected a hunched-over old man, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He stood tall, wrinkles etching his face and silver streaking his blond hair. Tanned muscular forearms peeped out of his rolled up sleeves. How similar he and his sons were.

  All in all, he was an exceptionally handsome man despite his age. He must have made a striking figure in his youth. Sage had always thought the princes’ good looks came from their mother, since her beauty had been famed throughout Aermia, but obviously they took after their father as well.

  This was the man that had deserted her country.

  He was the traitor.

  Sage felt ill. She’d been harboring a glimmer of hope that there was a valid reason for the negligence of their king in his duty toward Aermia, but he stood before her strong and virile, seemingly unscathed by time and illness. He had no more right to rule than she did, despite his royal blood. She checked her growing resentment, fixing her face into a neutral mask.

  “Looked your fill yet, darling?”

  His softly spoken words snapped her out of her gawking. Painstakingly, she stood and dipped into a wobbly curtsy. “My king, I am sorry if I have given offense. I did not mean to stare, but it is not every day the king himself waltzes into one’s rooms.” She observed him through her lashes to see if her sly needling bothered him.