by K. A. Linde
“Grabel grew up in the Royal Guard. He, too, knew the way of the sword. He was a formidable opponent,” Duke Halston told them.
“Where were they last seen?” Queen Kaliana asked.
“For several months, Pallia and Grabel had been overseeing and assisting the river city Strat in Aurum,” Duchess Elida said softly. “They returned a couple of weeks ago to meet the procession. A good friend of Pallia’s had told her that her sister would be on the procession, and Pallia was interested in meeting her. I believe the friend was…hmm…Aralyn. That sounds right.”
Cyrene’s vision blurred. Aralyn had told someone she was coming to Albion, and that person had turned up dead. She covered her mouth in horror. Zorian had come back for her Presenting, and he had also been killed. Leslin was friends with her sister and had died after Cyrene had gone to ask for her help. Her stomach clenched, and she had to close her eyes. What could it possibly mean? It couldn’t have anything to do with her.
“Cyrene,” Maelia whispered softly.
She shook her head, silencing her friend. She couldn’t talk about this right now.
“We must send a team to investigate, especially after the manner of deaths of Pallia and Grabel. No disappearance should go unwarranted, but the signs of targeted murders…” Edric let that thought hang thick in the air.
“I’ll get a team together and see what can be discovered.” Duke Halston signaled to a High Order.
“I’d love to add my own companion. High Order Eren is quite adept in this field, and unfortunately, he has lost a brother in these circumstances,” Edric said.
“Any person you recommend, Your Highness, is of the utmost quality. I am sure of it,” Duke Halston agreed.
“I would be honored, Your Highness,” Eren said.
“It will be great to have a trusted addition from the King’s High Order. This way High Order Eren,” Duke Halston said.
The men bowed to the King, and Eren followed Duke Halston out of the chamber.
The nausea that had started at the mention of Aralyn’s name wouldn’t pass, and the more Cyrene thought about it, the more she feared that she needed to speak up. If it had just been Zorian, then maybe she wouldn’t feel the connection, but Leslin, Pallia, and Grabel too? She needed to say something. It might help the investigation.
But she didn’t know what connection she had to these murders, and drawing attention to herself in such a manner could be counterproductive. How could I possibly tell Edric or any of them that I think I’m involved when I had come here in the first place to fulfill my plan? She was risking much with Maelia, and she needed to think about that first and foremost.
The moment passed in which it would have been appropriate for her to mention her connection, and the conversation moved on to more cheerful matters.
“I believe I’m worn out from the journey,” Cyrene spoke privately to Daufina. “I need to go rest.”
“Of course,” Daufina said with a smile.
Cyrene could feel Queen Kaliana’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look in the Queen’s direction, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
“You’re in the Pearl Bay Chambers,” Daufina said. “Elida has maids waiting to direct you to your rooms.”
“Thank you, Consort,” Cyrene said formally. She dipped a low curtsy, knowing the Queen was watching.
Maelia exited with her. Cyrene’s maid approached her, curtsied, and offered herself as an escort to her new quarters. Cyrene politely declined, telling her she wanted to look around some first, and then dragged Maelia away from the woman.
They fell in step together, walking leisurely toward the castle grounds. The circular entranceway now bustled with people arriving from the procession. Affiliates and High Order walked around, speaking freely to each other. A group of horses were tied together and being guided across the drawbridge. Strong sturdy men and a few able-bodied women unloaded carts, carrying everything from luggage to food to furniture.
“I can’t believe there were two more murders,” Maelia whispered.
Cyrene nodded. “Me neither.”
“They were friends of your sisters here to speak with you.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“What do you think it means?”
Cyrene shook her head. She had no clue.
“Do you still want to continue forward?” Maelia asked.
The words stuck in her throat. Continuing forward meant leaving all she had known behind, including Edric all to find out about a book. A book that only she could see the words, that stole time, and frightened a peddler, who insisted she seek out Matilde and Vera in Eleysia to discover the meaning of it. Is it worth it?
“Yes,” she responded, answering the spoken and unspoken question.
“Okay.”
“With everything going on right now, I think we won’t find a better chance.”
“You’re right.” Maelia seemed to stand taller at the thought. “You’re right.”
“Let’s go,” Cyrene said, nudging her forward.
While Cyrene’s horses were with her in Albion, nothing was organized enough for her to find someone to locate them for her. So the girls found the first available horses, took hold of the reins with purpose, and began to slowly walk them in the opposite direction. No one even seemed to notice them among the chaos of the courtyard. Soon, they were trotting down the narrow lane outside of Krisana’s walls, away from the castle.
“What happened on that ship?” Kaliana demanded, following Daufina into her quarters after the business in the throne room dispersed.
Daufina sighed and walked away from the Queen. “Business as usual.”
“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped.
“Kaliana, do you mind skipping to the point? I’ve had a long journey, and I would like to rest,” Daufina said dryly. She took a seat on her divan.
“He was with her, wasn’t he?” Kaliana asked. Her voice choked, and then she recovered.
“With whom?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Cyrene. Edric was with Cyrene.”
Daufina rested her hands on her lap and arched an eyebrow. “You are his Queen, Kaliana. No more than that.”
“Is this because of the baby?” She looked so small and scared—like the little princess who had traveled across the mountains to marry Edric, not the cold and heartless creature who had taken over her since they had wed.
“We need a Dremylon heir,” Daufina said. She couldn’t tell the Queen that Edric actually cared for Cyrene and not just because he needed to put a baby in her belly.
“If he lays one finger on her, we’ll have another death on our hands,” Kaliana growled.
Daufina hopped up and strode across the room. “Do not overestimate your importance, Kaliana. Your threats have no weight, and belittling the deaths of the fallen is disgusting. Leave Cyrene out of your politics, and get the hell out of my room!”
Kaliana raised herself a few extra inches, tilting her nose in the air, and then whirled around. She left the room in a swirl of Dremylon green and gold. Daufina sagged at her exit. She hadn’t meant to snap at Kaliana. It did nothing to improve their ever-crumbling relationship.
At the same time, she couldn’t take Kaliana’s threat lightly. She couldn’t take the chance of Kaliana acting out against Cyrene and having it coming back negatively on Edric.
With a heavy heart, she navigated the corridors of Krisana until she reached Edric’s room. She tipped her head at the guard before the King’s room and then entered without knocking. She found him stripped to the waist with a broadsword in his hand. His back muscles flexed as he swung the powerful weapon, running through the series of exercises to keep his body and mind in top shape.
She cleared her throat behind him, and he turned quickly, the sword ready. It rested only six inches away from her heart before he dropped the blade to his side. He was breathing heavily, and a slick sheen of sweat coated his body. For a moment, she remembered why she had loved him in the first place.<
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“Daufina, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“No. I hadn’t intended to come see you,” she admitted.
“Is something on your mind?” He sheathed his sword and found a towel to wipe his brow.
“Kaliana.”
Edric huffed and turned away from her. “Something on your mind that I actually want to talk about?”
“She’s not blind, Edric.”
He tossed the towel on his dresser. “Am I still the king?”
Daufina pinched the bridge of her nose and walked away from him.
“You put her on my ship. You sent her to my chambers. You let her take your place for four days, Daufina. Did you expect that I wouldn’t fall for her more each day she was there?”
“I thought you would be smart about it. You said you didn’t want a mistress, and then you went and—”
“Nothing happened,” he said, grabbing a shirt and throwing it over his head.
Daufina laughed. “I’m sure.”
“I’m serious.”
Daufina looked at him sharply. Her brows knitted together, trying to see if he was telling the truth. She couldn’t believe it. The man who could have whatever he wanted hadn’t taken what he wanted?
“Why?”
He ran a hand back through his hair and then walked across the room to her. He brushed aside the dark locks that tumbled over her shoulder. “Because I want her to want the man behind the crown.”
Daufina couldn’t meet his gaze. It drew her back to a time before when they could have been happy like that. “Then, be careful with Kaliana. She will do everything in her power to not let that happen.”
The roads had cleared of people, and the horses’ hooves crushed the fallen flowers lining the way to the castle. Despite Cyrene’s and Maelia’s best efforts to blend in, the people on the streets still smiled, waved, and curtsied as they passed. Being a spectacle in the city was a strange thing. In Byern, it wasn’t uncommon to see Affiliates out in the city. Albion had a diverse environment since it was on the shore, but the majority of the citizenry were Thirds.
About halfway to their destination, they passed a plain all-white pub with a swinging wooden door and a sign hanging on only one hinge from the framework. Rowdy customers caused a small crowd to form out front, and Cyrene and Maelia brought their horses to a halt.
“And stay out!” a guy cried. He pushed another man through the open door.
The man stumbled backward out of the bar and landed roughly on his hands and backside. His head dropped forward, and his hair fell into his face. A dust cloud sprang up, coating his already mussed clothing and settling into his hair.
“We don’t cut cards like that here!” the guy yelled.
The man slowly pushed off his hands and stood, facing the tavern.
Cyrene gasped when she recognized him. Ahlvie.
A smirk crossed Ahlvie’s face as he pocketed a small bag he’d collected from the ground and then dusted off his pants. “Good afternoon then.” He flourished a deep dignified bow, but it crumpled mid-bend, tipping him forward.
“You cheat someone else!” The guy slammed the door.
The crowd began to disperse, but Cyrene maneuvered their horses toward Ahlvie.
“Cyrene,” Maelia said, reaching out for her. “You know who that is?”
Cyrene nodded. After speaking with him, she hadn’t known if Ahlvie would actually go on the procession, so she hadn’t told Maelia.
“Only a few hours in the city, and you’re already making friends,” Cyrene said to Ahlvie.
“I have enough friends. It’s enemies I prefer to collect,” he replied.
“Well, you’re awfully good at it.”
“I haven’t scared you away yet.” He swept her the bow he hadn’t managed for the tavern owner. In that moment, he looked far less like the drunk he had appeared to be seconds before. He really was a cheat.
“Cyrene,” Maelia whispered frantically, “come on. Let’s go.”
“Just give me a minute.”
“Where are you fine Affiliates off to in the middle of the day?” Ahlvie asked pointedly. “The procession just docked, and I notice you’re riding His Grace’s horses.”
“Cyrene,” Maelia whispered again.
“It’s all right, Maelia.” She gave her friend a confident smile.
Cyrene dismounted and strode before Ahlvie. He was a good head taller than her, and she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
“I made it on the ship,” he said.
“So you did.”
“You spoke of freedom.”
“I didn’t expect you to make it aboard.”
“I said I would,” he responded gruffly, “and I always do what I say.”
“Always?” She narrowed her eyes. Maybe she should be second-guessing herself, but something about him reassured her.
“Always.”
“Fine,” she said, having already made her choice back in Byern. “Then you’re with us.” She knew he wasn’t a killer, and she might need a man where she was going. She gestured to her horse. “Help me back up.”
He laughed at her but hoisted her up onto her steed anyway.
“Maelia, this is Ahlvie. Ahlvie, this is Maelia.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ahlvie tipped his head to her.
Maelia smiled halfheartedly and glanced at Cyrene with an uneasy glint in her eye.
“If you give me just a moment, I’ll go get my horse.” He held up a finger when Cyrene began to speak. “One minute.”
Cyrene sighed as he rounded the corner of a building. She looked over at Maelia in apology.
“Cyrene, what are you doing?” Maelia demanded. “You know he killed Zorian and Leslin!”
“No, he didn’t. He was called in for questioning. That’s it.”
“You can’t trust him!”
“He’s helped me before.”
Maelia shook her head. “You’ve never even spoken of him to me.”
“I know. I know, but…”
Before she could finish, Ahlvie returned with a horse in tow. Maelia clamped her mouth shut and glared at Ahlvie.
“Where did you get him?” Cyrene asked.
“I didn’t steal him, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Ahlvie threw his leg up and over the horse. “Just spent some of my earnings.”
“The money you cheated people out of?” Maelia spat.
“I would never cheat anyone out of anything they didn’t already cheat themselves into from cheating others.” He tied the sentence around into knots that couldn’t possibly make sense. Then, he smiled at their confusion and heeled his horse into the lead.
“You don’t even know where we’re going,” Cyrene called.
“Well, wherever it is, no Second or Third is going to talk to either of you while you’re dressed like royalty, wearing your Affiliate pins, and prancing around on Albion-prized steeds.”
“Why?” Cyrene narrowed her eyes.
“Because, my fine Affiliate, these people lead different lives than you…or me,” he added grudgingly. “And you’ll only do more damage if you try to do everything your way. So, let me take the reins, and I’ll do what I do best.”
“Drink?” Cyrene quirked her eyebrow.
“There might be some of that. It helps.”
“I’m sure it does,” she said dryly.
“Tell me what you’re up to. You want out? Tell me how can I help you help me.” Ahlvie sent her a crooked smile.
“Cyrene,” Maelia said, reaching out and touching her arm, “are you sure?” Her voice dipped lower. “Can you trust him?”
Cyrene’s mind returned to that night when she had been trapped in that dark cave, and against all odds, she had somehow found her way out while bruised, scraped, beaten, soaking wet, exhausted, and most of all, angry. When Ahlvie had seen her in such a weakened state, he had never judged her. He had simply offered her assistance. Every interaction after that had made her see more and more that he was stifled and mistreate
d in his surroundings, and like her, he needed an escape.
“Yes,” she finally answered. She turned her attention back to Ahlvie.
He wore an old green shirt with patched elbows, dusty brown pants, and solid brown riding boots that reached his knees. He hardly looked the part of a member of the High Order. Perhaps he knew what he was talking about.
Cyrene quickly filled Ahlvie in on their plan—or at least the part that would directly concern him. He would have to get them out of Albion and on a ship bound for Eleysia.
As they continued forward at a leisurely pace, he listened, nodding along at some points and snorting at others. He mulled over the idea before taking a turn down a crossroad into a different Veda.
“Where are we going?” Cyrene asked.
“Following your plan. Just trust me.”
Maelia sighed loudly.
The horses’ hooves clattered against the cobblestones in the Veda, and after a few rather strange turns, they found themselves on a lane along the coast. When Cyrene’s eyes cut across the harbor, she found the giant procession ships off in the distance, and she frowned. They were even farther away from the docks than she had thought.
“What are you doing, Ahlvie?” she asked.
“Improvising.”
“This isn’t part of the plan.”
“We should just go back.” Maelia pulled back on her reins.
“Your plan made no sense. You want to get out of the harbor?” he demanded, staring down the two women.
They both stared back, stony-eyed.
“You’re not going near the King or the Duke or any other royal boats, not even close. So, listen closely. Do as I say, and we’ll be out of here faster than you could get to those ships.”
“What are you going to do?” she demanded.
He shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Make an inquiry.”
With that, Ahlvie continued forward down the lane.
“You’re the one who trusts him. You follow him,” Maelia spat.
Cyrene held back and leaned closer to Maelia. “Don’t be angry with me.”
“You invited him along without telling me! I don’t trust him, nor do I understand why you would.”
“Don’t you ever just know?” she asked.