by Frost Kay
Tehl leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees. “Did you learn anything useful from her?”
“Nothing she didn’t want me to.” The king smirked. “She has just as many faces as Sam. She has been well trained; I hope that whoever she is working with will negotiate, as they’re sure to be a formidable enemy.”
“If she is anything like Sam we need to proceed with extreme caution. Her betrayal could ruin Aermia.”
“I consider myself a good judge of character and my gut says, given the opportunity, she would do what is best for the people no matter the ‘side’ she is on at the time. We must show her that ours is the best for Aermia.”
“Gav is working on it as we speak. She doesn’t care for Sam though, and she loathes me.”
His father cocked his head in a silent question.
Tehl straightened his back and then stared anywhere but at his father. “I handled her roughly, threatened her family, and threatened to ravish her before we imprisoned her.”
At his father’s sharp inhale, he faltered before soldiering on. “Then I ordered limited food and water. I forgot about her when I went to the border after the Scythian invasion. When we arrived home, she had already been attacked. She believes I set those men on her.” He put a hand over his mouth and mumbled, “I even ended up backing her against a wall when she tried to walk away from me today. I didn’t know I had much of a temper until I met her.” Tehl threw a rock, irked. “On top of all that, Gav tells me I need a wife, which after planning the Midsummer Festival, I am inclined to agree with.”
The lullaby of the night descended after his statement. Waves thundered below, harmonizing with the soft fluttering of bat wings and his father’s quiet breaths.
“It sounds like a lot of upheaval.”
Acceptance.
There was no judgment or condemnation in his father’s tone. Tehl slumped against the stone wall, the tension leaving his body.
“A wife? I swear you told me there would never be one a couple of weeks ago.”
“Circumstances change, father. I can’t do this by myself. I need help. Sam and Gav are doing what they can, but I need a consort.”
His father nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean, after you mother died… I just couldn’t. Still can’t. I am sorry I’m not what you need.”
The king aged before his eyes. Tehl’s heart ached at the change. Part of Marq Ramses had died along with his wife, leaving only a glimmer of the man he grew up with. This broken man had taken over his father after his mother’s death.
His father levered himself up and looked down on him, infinite sadness sucking the life from the blue eyes so like his own. “I will do my best to help when you need me. Good night, son.”
The king picked his way across the rocky ledge to the door way.
I need you now was on the tip on his tongue but he bit back the words. For a while tonight, before he’d slipped into melancholy, his father had been his old self. It was as if the king was in a deep hole and Tehl had no idea how to dig him out.
He tilted his head back and gazed at the luminous stars above him. They winked like fireflies in a darkened meadow. A wife. He wondered again where he was going to find one. His brother was right; he lacked social skills. He had the constitution of a bear some days, so who would want to live with that? He needed to make it happen.
Twenty-Eight
SAGE
Sage sat on the floor, staring into the crackling fire before her. She ran her hands through the luxurious carpets, her mind running a mile a minute. She’d now been in the castle over three weeks. Her eyes slid to her companions: Mira was rocking in her chair, reading about some herb, and Gav sat on his cot writing letters. She was going to leave them; she had to.
She looked to the two people who had taken such good care of her; as unlikely as it had seemed, the three of them had become good friends. A rebel, a healer, and a prince. Sage smirked. It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. Her smile faded a touch as guilt stabbed her. She had to leave them.
Gav looked up from his furious scratching with an easy smile, meeting her eyes. Her own smile froze on her face. She dropped her eyes so his probing ones couldn’t read her thoughts.
She was a liar.
A fake.
Sage felt sick.
She was a traitor of the highest order.
They had been nothing but kind. She had to figure out how to leave without implicating either of them. The Elite rebel with the ring would start his shift early the next morning, so she had until dawn for her goodbyes.
Her thoughts moved to the sleeping draught she’d stashed in her dress. When she was moved to this room, Mira had dosed her with the sleeping draught to ease her pain and help her sleep. The problem was that once she took it, she couldn’t wake up from the nightmares, so she hated taking it. Each day, when Mira was using the privy, she would pour some into a different bottle and dilute the one that Mira was using. The pain was worse, but it was worth it if it meant waking from her terrible dreams.
A soft sigh drew her attention to Mira, slumped in her chair, looking exhausted. A surge of affection bubbled inside her for the sweet woman who had pulled her from the edge of death.
Gav set aside his correspondence and stood, gesturing to the chessboard.
“Would you like to play?”
She smirked at him. “Are you ready to lose again?”
Gav scoffed, eyes twinkling. “A woman has never beaten me.” He puffed up his chest, strutted over to the wall, and struck a pose.
She giggled at Gav’s uncharacteristic playfulness. A petite snort caught her attention, and she stared at Mira, eyes wide. The poor girl covered her face in embarrassment, unable to completely cover her beet-red cheeks. Mira attempted to hold in her laughter, but the harder she tried, the worse her little snorts became.
Sage jabbed a finger at her friend, laughter spilling out of her. “What,” she gasped, “was that?”
Mira shook her head, a blond hair covering her face like a curtain, lamenting, “I try to control it but sometimes it simply will not be controlled!”
“Do not worry, my lady, your secret is safe with me.” Gav sent Mira a friendly smile, along with a wink, and patted her on the shoulder like a man. He flopped down onto the other end of the bed and set up the board.
Sage stood up and stretched her hands above her head with a soft groan, arching her back like a cat. “I am in the mood for some lavender mint tea. Would either of you like some?”
She made her way over to the hutch upon which sat the honey, tea, and an assortment of cookies and cakes, all the while praying they both said ‘yes’. She closed her eyes in relief as a chorus of yesses sounded behind her.
Slouching, she pulled out her draught from her gaping dress. She was thankful that it was sweet; mixed with the tea and honey they wouldn’t taste it. She put a couple teaspoons of tea leaves into each cup, as well as a few drops of the draught, then slipped the small bottle back in her bodice.
“Honey?”
Please want honey, please want honey, please want honey, she chanted in her head. A masculine and feminine ‘yes’, Sage thanked the stars.
Sage spooned some into each cup, and then moved to the pot hanging over the fire and carefully poured water into each cup, stirring them until the tea was so fragrant her mouth watered. She handed a one to Mira and then Gav. As they lifted the tea to their lips, she had a sudden urge to snatch the cups away or knock them to the floor. Instead, she stifled the feeling and sipped at her own tea, silent.
“Thank you, Ruby, I needed this. It’s delicious.” Gavriel’s smile skewered her heart.
Mira mumbled her thanks as well and settled back into her rocking chair with her book.
“Shall we?” Sage pointed to the game.
Gav lay on his side smiling impishly. That was her answer. Sage rolled her eyes and chose black, even though it meant she’d given away the first move. She studied his move and countered.
>
When she looked up from the board, Gav was studying her, intensely. Her heart stuttered, and her palms began to sweat. Did he suspect her betrayal?
Be calm, he can’t know.
“I am sorry for what happened today with the crown prince. He meant no harm.”
She wasn’t expecting that.
Gav moved his next piece and captured her rook. “He may be rough around the edges but he is actually a good person. Tehl will make a powerful king.”
Rage and bitterness welled inside her. Sage wanted to ignore his comment, to act like she hadn’t heard his words, but she couldn’t. “You mean to tell me,” she said through gritted teeth, “that the man who threatened to ravage me, hurt my family, starved me, and then had me attacked is a good person? Forgive me if I don’t agree.”
“He never had you attacked,” Gav replied, his voice soft.
“No.” Sage cut him off, slashing a hand through the air. “Do not defend him. I don’t want to hear it. Even if he didn’t sanction it, it still happened under his roof by his men. How can he expect to rule a kingdom if he can’t control what happens in his own home?”
“I understand but he isn’t—”
Heat filled her cheeks as frustration built up inside her. How could Gav defend such a monster? Tears tracked a path down her cheeks as Sage dropped her blurry eyes to the game board, trying to get a hold of herself.
“You know how I suffer at night,” she whispered. “Nothing would ever convince me he is a good man. The crown prince is a pretty monster who holds too much power.” Sage moved a piece and balled her hands into tight fists.
Gav’s tanned hand touched hers softly, imparting comfort. She squeezed his hand once, then swiped at her tears. She met his grave eyes with a watery smile. “I understand that you owe your loyalty to your cousin and that you love him. You are a wonderful person, Gavriel. You see the best in people, but we can’t agree on this subject. It’s best for you and I if you don’t mention him.”
He released an aggravated sigh and held up one hand. “One more thing, then I will let it rest. Just remember to never judge a book by its cover. You might be surprised by what you find inside.”
“You’re right.” She paused waiting for him to look up at her. When his eyes met hers, she murmured. “His cover is exquisite, but I have seen what is inside. It’s a nightmare. Like I said before, he’s a beautiful monster.”
Gav blanched at her statement but recovered. She knew she was being harsh, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it. Focusing back on the board, he moved a piece, and she looked down to find he had her king trapped.
“How did you do that,” she muttered.
“With lots of diversions,” he teased.
Sage glared at him and swatted his shoulder, her grin undermining its effect. This was her last night with them and she wouldn’t ruin it. A thump drew their attention to Mira. She had fallen sound asleep in her chair, her book askew on the floor.
Gav shook his head and looked back at her. “I guess it is time for bed.”
“That it is.” She stood and curtsied. “I concede to your excellent strategizing skills, my lord.”
Sage picked up Mira’s book as Gavriel put away the game.
“Mira, love, we need to get you to bed,” Sage crooned.
Mira growled something unintelligible and snuggled further into the chair. Tenderly, Sage pushed her friend’s fine blond hair from her face. She would most likely never see this woman again. She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. “Gav,” she called. “I will need you to carry her to bed. She won’t get out of this chair herself.”
Gav chuckled, hoisting Mira out of the chair like she weighed nothing. Gently, he lowered her friend into the bed. Sage nudged him out of the way, tucking her in. She placed a small kiss on Mira’s forehead and whispered, “Good night, sweet girl.”
Sage crept from the side of the bed, turning to the fire. Gav stood, watching her haloed by firelight. His dark form glided to her. Sage squeaked when his muscular arms engulfed her suddenly. One of his hands slid into her hair, pressing her face against his firm chest.
“I am sorry I brought my cousin up and that it upset you so. I’ll try not to do so again.”
Her mouth parted in surprise as his lips touched the crown of her head. Sage tipped her head back, staring into his glittering eyes full of affection. It killed her knowing they would be on opposite sides come tomorrow. She lifted onto her toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for being what I need you to be.” She cradled his cheek and Gav’s eyes closed as he leaned into her palm. “Your wife was a lucky woman.” Sage meant every word.
His throat convulsed, and he released a shuddering breath. Sage rubbed her thumb along his cheekbone once more before releasing him. She stepped from the circle of his arms moving away. Gavriel’s hand gripped hers, halting her. Sage examined her small hand in his, running her eyes from his muscular arm to his wide shoulders and, finally, to stare at his profile.
“Thank you.” His voice was gruff. “Ruby, I…” Anguish and confusion was clear in his voice.
“You have a lot to offer, brother.” His head snapped to her at the endearment. “Most of us miss someone and we all have to learn to let go. One day you will be able to move from the guilt. And maybe you will find someone again.”
His dear purple eyes swept across her face as if he was searching for something. She drew in a breath, squeezing his hand. “I am not that someone, Gav. I am, however, your friend. Just as you are mine.” She gave him a small smile.
He mulled that over for a bit, eventually returning her smile. “That you are. I suppose you’re right, sis.”
His returning her endearment filled her with joy. ‘Brother’ and ‘sister’ were the highest honor you could bestow upon someone other than blood kin. With those titles you claimed them as a companion for life. Sage’s smile spread so wide that her cheeks hurt, Gav’s expression mirroring hers.
“Not that I haven’t enjoyed our heart-to-heart, but I really ought to head to bed,” she hinted.
Sage let go of his hand, and he ruffled her hair as he walked to his own cot. She scowled at him, placing her hands on her hips. “None of that, though!”
“Not a chance, sis. We’re siblings now, that’s just what we do.”
“Out!” Sage stabbed a finger at the door.
Gav winked and left the room, still smirking.
Sage changed her dress in a rush, switching it for one of Mira’s plain ones. She then clambered into bed, pulling the covers to her chin. A few minutes passed before Gav snuck back to his cot. Blankets rustled as he tried to find a comfortable position.
“Good night, Gav.”
“Night, Ruby.”
Shame washed over her at the use of her fake name. They had practically adopted each other yet he didn’t even know her. She was a fraud, a fake. She wished she could tell him, but it was too dangerous now. It wasn’t just about her. If she said anything it would endanger both her family and friends.
She didn’t want to leave without giving him something honest though.
“Gav?” she whispered to the dark.
“Yeah,” he groggily replied.
“My brothers used to call me ‘Sai’ when I was little. You’re welcome to call me that.”
The room was quiet, save Mira’s soft breaths and the crackle of the fire. Had he fallen asleep?
“Sai it is then dear sister. What is it short for?”
“It’s not, just a nickname,” Sage evaded.
“Okay. Sweet dreams, Sai,” Gav slurred.
It wasn’t long before loud snores came from Gav’s cot. Sage stared at the ceiling for another hour before deciding to test the depth of her friends’ slumber. Sage jumped off the bed and stomped to the bathroom. Nothing. She grabbed the cold doorknob and slammed the heavy bathroom door. The sharp noise thundered through the room. Still nothing. They didn’t even stir.
Sage trudged back to bed feeling equal parts
of triumphant and somber. She would be free in a matter of hours, but would leave behind friends she had come to treasure. Someday she would try to find a way to make it right between them.
Sage slipped back into bed and forced her eyes closed. Her perspective had changed with her time here. Not everything about the Crown was evil and there were no absolutes. The crown prince was still an arrogant brute, it was true, but she had softened toward everyone else, even the king. Her heart clenched at the thought of Marq. She would protect him. The older man had suffered enough. With that thought, she drifted off.
Light knocking at the door roused her. She eyed her companions, still sleeping soundly, and snuck from bed. Carefully, Sage pried the door open. The Elite from the previous day stood before her.
“There’s not much time, we have to move now. I take it you took care of your companions?” he asked in a hushed voice.
She nodded once, taking a final peek at her cherished friends. Now that it was here, the thought of escape was bittersweet. Hopefully they would understand her actions. Sage closed the door and looked to the guard expectantly.
He shoved a worn, brown cloak and cane into her arms. “Put the cloak on and use it to conceal the cane.”
Sage regarded the two Elite sleeping on either side of her door. “Did you expose yourself?” she asked, clasping the cloak. She tucked the cane away, awaiting his answer.
“No, but the night is still young.” He gestured to the sleeping Elite. “I had them drugged.”
She smirked up at him. “Great spies think alike.”
An amused grin played at his mouth as they slipped silently down the corridor. With each twist and turn, room or staircase, Sage catalogued everything. She had seen little of the castle apart from her suite and the infirmary. She filed each detail away so she could create a map later.