“I miss home, too,” I said. Though Ellaeni and I came from different places, we had that in common.
“In Trindor I had my own ship,” she said. “A crew that answered to me.”
“Really?” I asked, intrigued. It seemed entirely out of character for someone as shy as Ellaeni, who could barely read poetry without stuttering.
“Yes. Much like horsemanship here, mastering the sea is a rite of passage for the Trindori. Coming here, being landlocked . . . I’m grateful to see rain. The water god has not forgotten me after all,” she said, sketching his symbol in front of her. “All these dry days, these clothes I can’t move in . . . I’ve almost forgotten who I am.” There was a sharpness to her then as the rain washed away her diffidence, a flash of the girl who knew herself.
“Why are you here?” I asked. “Could you not better serve your people as a captain?”
“I still plan to,” she said. “But my mother is old friends with Hilara, and the two of them decided I ought to spend at least one season inland.” She impaled a tomato wedge with unnecessary force.
I did my best to keep my face neutral, but some quirk of my lips must have betrayed me.
“I see Hilara is no friend of yours, either,” Ellaeni observed.
“It’s no secret that Havemont was not her first choice for an alliance,” I said, not sure how much Ellaeni knew.
“What’s no secret is her obsession with Zumordans and their magic,” Ellaeni said. “She probably thinks they have some spell that will give her eternal youth and beauty. Perhaps they do.”
“Is there any magic used among your people?” I tried to ask the question casually but felt the hum of my own magic rise with my curiosity.
Ellaeni shook her head. “No, but some Trindori have a bond with the water god that allows them to sense things like storms and red tides—the sea sense. It’s a passive gift. Some people don’t even believe it’s real, but those with the sea sense do seem to have uncommon luck. They survive. I don’t have it myself, but one of my crew members does. I’ve seen it enough to believe.”
I sat back in my chair. At what point was a line drawn between an Affinity and a bond with a god? The gods were revered throughout Mynaria, but those with gifts condemned. Religion and magic had to be connected in some way, but if that was true, the chasm in people’s perceptions of the two did not make sense.
A knock sounded at the door of the bower, and a page entered the room.
“Message from Princess Amaranthine, Your Highness,” he said. “No lesson today due to the weather. Instead she has invited you for a visit to her receiving room as soon as you’d like to stop by.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Please send my acceptance.”
The page bowed and hurried away with my message.
“She must like you if you’ve garnered that sort of invitation,” Ellaeni noted.
Heat of a decidedly nonmagical variety rose in my cheeks. The idea that Mare liked me was both thrilling and scary—thrilling because it seemed like I’d won over one of the most difficult people in the castle, and scary because my focus on my duties was veering off course. I needed to concentrate on the success of the alliance and on Thandi.
Ellaeni simply smiled. “Feel free to go,” she said. “I can see you have places to be. Thank you so much for the invitation to lunch.”
“The pleasure was mine,” I said, and squeezed her hand in farewell.
Mare’s chambers were only a short walk from the bower, and there was no point in returning to my rooms. Auna would badger me into setting up some entertainment for the nobles or encourage me to respond to my mother’s letter. I wasn’t in the mood to lie to my mother today. I picked up my skirts and hurried toward Mare’s rooms, but as I rounded the last corner, I collided with someone.
“Oh, excuse me!” I stumbled to the side and dropped my skirts to catch my balance.
“Princess Dennaleia,” Thandilimon greeted me. A smile came easily to his face.
“I’m so sorry.” I flushed with embarrassment and stepped away from the wall.
“I apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. You’re exactly the person I was hoping to find. I thought your riding lesson might be canceled due to the storm.”
“Yes, it was,” I said. His apology made me feel even more self-conscious. It certainly wasn’t his fault that I had nearly knocked him over. I bit my lip and looked down the hallway past his shoulder toward Mare’s room and took a few small steps in that direction, hoping he would take that as a hint that I still had somewhere to be.
“Wonderful! In that case, would you like to accompany me for a walk? I was hoping to show you a few areas of the castle that you might not have discovered on your own.” He offered me his arm.
“Actually, I was on my way to see Amaranthine,” I said.
“I’m sure you could use some relief from her by now,” Thandi said.
I hesitated. It should have been easy to overthrow my plans with Mare for my future husband. The prince came first, and my duty was to him.
“All right,” I conceded, hoping my frustration wasn’t visible on my face. I took his arm and we started off back the way I had come.
“I apologize that I’ve been absent lately. The Directorate has been terribly busy questioning the Recusants we’ve dragged in. Father expects me to attend every session.” He looked down at me as we walked, his blue eyes searching my face.
“That must be quite tiring, my lord. Have they discovered any leads on the knife attack yet?” If I was going to be stuck spending time with him, I might as well get some information to take to Mare.
“No, nothing yet. We’re trying to find out who their Zumordan supporters are, but Hilara keeps slowing the process. She’s still pressing for some kind of treaty or alliance with them.”
“That’s puzzling. One would think everyone would be of a mind to find the people responsible as quickly as possible, no matter who they are,” I said.
“Agreed. Either way, I’m sorry we haven’t had more time to spend together lately. It’s been so difficult with the castle locked down, and before that with all your riding lessons.” His earnest expression made me feel even guiltier for not caring.
“Yes, the riding lessons take up quite a bit of time,” I said.
“I hope my sister is minding what few manners she has.”
“We may be quite different, but I don’t think she’s a bad influence,” I said. It was the most diplomatic response I could manage.
“Of course not. I’m sure a lady of your taste would not be swayed by any of her wilder ideas.”
If only he knew why I’d been in such a hurry, or that I had every intention of having her help me get outside the castle walls.
“I don’t think she’s different in a bad way,” I said. “The expectations placed on her aren’t the same as those on you or me. She is who she is partly because of that, as we are who we are because of the expectations placed on us.”
“It’s generous to think about it that way,” he replied.
Our conversation cut off as he released my arm so we could walk single file down a narrow staircase near the back of the royal wing. I stepped carefully, half certain that I’d tumble to the bottom of the stairs in a heap of gray silk and further ruined dignity.
At the bottom of the stairs we stopped in front of a door. The wood was heavy and thick, riddled with scars of age. Thandilimon lifted a lamp off a nearby hook and escorted me inside, his hand on the small of my back. Lamplight pooled at our feet as we entered an empty hall, our steps echoing against the stone floor. Wall sconces were fewer and farther between than in the castle upstairs, the areas between them dim and laced with shadows.
Thandilimon surprised me by taking my hand instead of offering his arm again. My heart beat faster. I breathed in deeply to try to calm myself.
“This is the way to the armory,” Thandilimon said.
“Pardon me, my lord, but is there something you wanted to show me do
wn here?” Being alone with him in the dark made me nervous, and the longer we wandered around, the less time I would have to spend with Mare.
“To be honest, I just needed to get away from everyone for a little while. Having so many Directorate meetings to discuss Zumorda and the Recusants is exhausting. I doubt there’s anyone down here except the liegemen who patrol now and again. I know you probably aren’t interested in weaponry, but this is where we house the unique treasures the crown has accumulated over the years. You might be curious to know about the passages, too.”
“Passages?” I said.
“Yes. There are underground passages that lead to different areas within the castle, and also outside to the barn. They provide us escape routes in the case of a siege. That’s the entrance to the armory.” Thandilimon pointed out a heavy door to our left. “If you keep following this passageway, you’ll end up near the great hall. The library is on the left about halfway there.”
“There is a back way into the library?” I perked up. It would have been useful to know that when doing my research on Zumorda.
“Indeed. And if you follow the southern path from the staircase we came down, you’ll find a tunnel out to the barn. It comes out in the feed room. I don’t recommend going down there, though. It’s not lit, and if you take the one next to it by mistake, you’ll end up in the back of the dungeon.”
“I can’t imagine why I would need to go down any of them,” I said, already wondering if there were any that could help Mare and me get into town.
“Mare and I often use the barn tunnel when we were trying to skip out on our history lessons. I’m not sure they ever did figure out how we were getting down there.” He smiled at what must have been a fond memory.
Something in his grin brought Mare to mind, and the resemblance made me smile back. He dropped my hand and put his arm around me, gently brushing his fingertips along the top of my shoulder. My heart pounded in my ears so loudly he must have been able to hear it. We stopped in front of a closed door, and he set down the lantern. But instead of opening the door, he took both my hands.
“Dennaleia.” He looked into my eyes, that sincere tone back in his voice again. “I know things haven’t gone as expected, but do you think you can be happy here in Mynaria someday? With me?”
My mind raced, searching for the right answer. Happiness would feel more realistic once the alliance was finalized and the unrest in the kingdom had been addressed. But it seemed important that he believe in me, and in us. Otherwise I’d never be the trusted adviser to him that Casmiel had hoped I would become.
“Yes, of course,” I said.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said, his voice warm.
Then he leaned down and kissed me.
I waited for emotions to well up the way Alisendi had described when recounting her trysts, but I only felt panic that I didn’t know what to do. His mouth was wetter than I expected, his upper lip damp with sweat. I tried to kiss him back. He stepped closer and attempted to deepen the kiss, but I pulled back and broke away.
“Was that all right?” he asked.
“Um, I suppose so.” I didn’t know what else to say. Admitting that the thought of kissing him again made me want to run to my rooms wasn’t an option. I swallowed hard. Soon we would be married. Surely it would get better with time.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“Of course.”
He kissed me again on the hand and then the cheek. I stood perfectly still, as though I were afraid to scare him off, when in fact it was I who wanted to flee.
“Let’s go, then,” he said, smiling at me. “I can show you the other passageways.”
I nodded silently and followed him onward, sending mental apologies to Mare with all my heart. A page would have to be sent with an excuse for why I had not appeared as promised. I hoped she would forgive me.
TWENTY
Mare
LONG AFTER DENNA SHOULD HAVE ARRIVED TO VISIT, a page delivered a vague apology from her. I was annoyed, but the plan I’d crafted required two people, and it wasn’t something Nils could be caught doing—I needed help. I sent a message asking Denna to meet me before the change of the midnight guard shift. Something that had been tight all day loosened in my chest when she edged down the directors’ hall like a shadow, but there was no time to examine the feeling. We had to stay focused on obtaining the dagger.
“I’m so sorry about this afternoon,” she said, the apology pouring out in a rush. “I ran into Thandi on the way to see you and I couldn’t get away. He took me down into the tunnels, and—”
“It’s fine.” I cut her off. “I’m just glad you’re here now.” I tried not to think about whatever my brother had been up to with her in the catacombs. When he was younger, he used to like to try to talk pretty girls into going down there to kiss him, and the thought of him kissing Denna when she should have been scheming with me was irritating.
I explained my plan to recover the knife, showing Denna the hairpin I planned to use to pick the lock of Ryka’s ready room. With the details sorted, we stalked our way along the rough stone wall of the hallway, taking advantage of the long shadows cast by the few sconces that still burned in the middle of the night.
“Do you see him?” Denna whispered.
“Shh.” I put my finger to my lips, waiting for the guard to pass the hallway where we stood concealed.
Denna teetered a little bit as she leaned forward to peer around me, and I caught her barely in time to keep her from lurching into the suit of armor we were hiding behind. Why Captain Ryka insisted on keeping such half-rusted wastes of space on display was a mystery. I glared at Denna, even though I knew she couldn’t see me in the dark. The girl clearly hadn’t done enough sneaking as a child. Even getting this far had been like trying to lead a warhorse over eggshells.
Chain mail jingled as the liegeman walked past. It was time. The whole plan hinged on us making it to the door of the captain’s ready room and managing to break in during the brief period when the guard was around the corner. I stepped out from behind the armor.
“Heya!” the liegeman shouted, turning with his halberd at the ready.
Shit.
The liegeman chuckled as I emerged into the dim lamplight—one of the least friendly sounds I’d ever heard. “What are you doing here, Your Highness?” he asked, dropping his guard. “Slumming for some fresh liegeman meat?” He waved his halberd suggestively.
It figured that I’d run into Jox—the only liegeman cocky and stupid enough to talk down to a member of the royal family. One day I’d get him dismissed in a way that ensured he wouldn’t bother anyone else.
“Yes, Jox. Obviously. That’s why I’m here. Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” I paced past him, trying to lure him farther away from Denna. I hoped she had the common sense to take advantage of the opportunity and run. We could regroup and get the knife another time.
“Maybe you’re smarter than the rumors say,” Jox said, completely missing my sarcasm. “Though those trousers make you look like one of us. You should try skirts sometime. They’re easier for a man to get into.”
“Sartorial advice from a liegeman,” I said. “Now I’ve heard it all.”
“Let me show you what a real man is,” Jox said. “I’ll be off my shift in a quarter of a sunlength, but I could leave a few minutes early.” His predatory gaze made me wish I had a better weapon than the bent hairpin clutched between my fingers.
Gods, I hoped Denna had escaped. I risked a glance over Jox’s shoulder and barely held back an entire rainbow of curses. Behind him, Denna inched her way along the wall, heading for the door of the captain’s ready room. If she made the slightest noise, he’d turn and catch her. I did the only thing I could think of—leaned back into the nearest suit of rusted armor and knocked the whole thing to the floor. Metal screeched across the stone as pieces scattered.
“Oops.” I batted my eyelashes. “I’m so sorry, Jox.”
The door stood as firmly shut as when we’d first entered, but I could hear papers rustling on the other side. Against all odds, she had made it in. The trouble was that now I had no idea how she was going to find the weapon, or more importantly, how she would get out. The only other means of escape was the second-story external window. And if Denna could climb down a wall—in the rain, no less—I’d eat my damned saddle. The ornamental one. Crusty gold filigree and all.
I trotted downstairs to the nearest exit, grabbed a lantern from a hook near the door, and stepped out into the rain. Fat droplets soaked through my shirt. Thunder rumbled overhead, and a streak of lightning zipped across the sky as I peered up at the dark window of the captain’s room. Of course there was nothing to see.
I sighed and trudged out onto the path that most closely hugged the castle wall. Not more than twenty paces past the window stood a small stone building sheltered by tall trees and covered with a tangle of vines. The door creaked open at my touch, releasing the smell of stale air and wet earth. Inside was hardly better than out; no matter where I stood, drips found their way through the roof and onto my head.
I held up the lantern, surveying the contents of the shed. Most of the tools were piled haphazardly in the corners. In the far back what I needed hung crookedly on the wall: a half-rotted ladder held together with rusty nails. It would have to do.
I pulled it down and carried it to the window, setting it against the wall. Climbing it seemed like the worst idea I’d ever had. But leaving Denna to fend for herself in Captain Ryka’s ready room wasn’t an option.
I put my foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, which creaked ominously as my hands slipped on the rain-slick wood. I preceded each step up the ladder with a cautious test of the next rung. Rain stung my cheeks and stuck my hair to my neck in dripping strands. At the top I grasped the sill, stretching up onto my toes to look in through the window. Through the blurry glass all I could see was the tiniest spark of light, just enough to hint at Denna’s silhouette.
Of Fire and Stars Page 15