My Love

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My Love Page 338

by Sabrina Zbasnik


  With no family to stand in for Prince Vedrick/Snowy, Gavin volunteered. He would be the one to rail hardest should the proof not stand up. "Yes, your Majesty." His shaggy head tipped down in a minor bow, "I do."

  "This is..." Daryan began, but Rosie cut her off.

  "And Karelle, I assume you share the same thoughts as my father on the matter."

  "He'd trust his daughters if that's what you're getting at," the chamberlain snickered.

  "Then, it is my duty to declare Anjali not guilty of the charge of attacking and murdering our squire. Please, Ser Daryan, release her from her chains."

  The Knight grumbled deep in her chest, no doubt wanting to lash forward to browbeat Rosamund until she let her use her fists to the solve the problem, but she was wise enough to do as told. Lifting up Anjali's wrists, Daryan jabbed a key in to unlock the manacles.

  "There is yet one matter, on the case of Squire Gavin assaulting a member of my court," Rosamund began, her eyes narrowing upon the boy who looked as if he'd already had the world split on his shoulders. After a breath, he lifted his head and stared dead ahead for his punishment.

  "Pst," Myra began, hopping towards her.

  "For attacking with limited cause..."

  "Pst, Rosie," she waved a hand and dipped towards her ear.

  "Yes Myra, what is it?"

  Myra tipped down to whisper right in Rosie's ear, "Go easy on him, okay. He...he took Snowy's death real hard. They were really close, like brothers and...I think he went a bit loopy at having to be the one to find him like that."

  Spinning over to her sister, Rosie sighed, "I understand you want to protect your boyfriend, Myra, but..." The thought died at her sister shrinking deep into her collar, the color in her cheeks paling to an ice white. "What is it?"

  "We're not, it's...we're not a thing anymore. Weren't before the dwarf got ganked. I'm not asking because of that. Just," her lips whiffled in a sigh, "he's had a hard week, and I don't think he deserves to be hurt for it."

  "Myra..." she began, reaching to try and comfort her sister. How did she not know that they sundered? Did anyone else...perhaps no one even knew they were a couple before it ended.

  But her sister was in no mood for it, her hands sliding behind her back as her voice lifted in a joke, "I mean, she hit him first, right? Only seems fair. That's all I'm saying." Ending her thoughts, Myra strolled away from Rosie towards the circle where she presented her evidence.

  "Squire Gavin," Rosie rose out of her chair now to look upon the man. Myra was right, he did appear as if someone eviscerated him and left the innards dangling in the trees out of reach. Pity swirled inside of Rosamund and her tone melted, "you shall be punished by being required to keep a guard upon Prince Vedrick's body."

  "Ma'am?" he tipped his head, so lost he forgot all the honorifics afforded to her.

  "Make certain he remains safe until, until we put him to rest. However one does that for dwarves. This is a punishment for what you did to Anjali without cause. Understand?"

  "Yes, your Majesty," he bent his head low in a bow, but from the corner of his eyes he glanced over at Myra who was smiling at him. Whatever caused their breakup the two didn't seem to be fully on the outs. A curious question. Exhausted and wishing to curl up under a wet cloth, Rosie turned back to her seat, when a voice called out.

  "The stone," Cailan was perched upon the writing desk, having absconded it back from Myra the moment she no longer needed it. "Dwarves are returned to the stone, though that doesn't really work up here."

  "My lady," Karelle began, causing the dread in Rosie's stomach to rise. The Chamberlain had known them all too long to go throwing around titles without cause. "We have no rights to decide what to do with the man's corpse."

  Rosie nodded her head. They could burn it, give him a proper Andrastian funeral and conveniently forget there was ever a Snowy squire in the ranks. Perhaps let a rumor slip that he vanished on the road from the caravan. Bury the dagger, or sell it to a merchant in another country. Leave the family wondering what happened to him with no answer from anyone.

  "We need to return him to his people," Rosamund said, the easy answer leaving her mind instantly.

  "Your Highness," Karelle gasped, her head shaking at the enormity of it.

  "Are you out of your flipping mind?" Cailan glanced up. "You want to waltz right into dwarven territories, who are not happy with anyone ever, and present the dead son of the Queen right to his people?"

  "His mother deserves to know," Rosie turned to her brother whose eyes were practically bulging at the thought.

  "This is preposterous," Daryan shouted. "They will cut you down the moment you approach. There is no recognized sovereignty within their stolen lands. They care nothing for Ferelden's law nor its throne."

  "Then," Rosie twisted her head, trying to suck in a breath to steady herself, "it is up to you to find us a safe way to present the body. I will not leave a people wondering what happened to their prince, nor a mother crying for her lost son."

  She shouted the last sentence, the words ringing through the tent struggling to keep out a misting rain. With a throbbing head and jaw, Rosie glanced around at her people. Karelle was silent but locked off, Daryan looked as if she wished to rip her princess' throat out, Cailan as always seemed pensive but game, Myra and Gavin were both smiling and proud. Anjali was the only question, her head dangling down and eyes shut while she let the words wash over her.

  "Rossie, I don't know if..."

  "What if it was our mother?" she turned to Cailan, needing at least her brother on her side.

  He sighed and shrugged, "All right, we're gonna go say hi to the dwarves. Delightful. I so look forward to the neck cramp."

  Relaxing the grit in her teeth, Rosie turned to Karelle, "Can you make it happen?"

  "My Lady..."

  "Can you?"

  "Yes," Karelle said, "but we'll have to move fast. Anymore decay to the body could make it appear as if we were waffling about doing the right thing. And I will be informing your father."

  "I'd already intended to send a few ravens. Hopefully they will meet us on the road there. Squire Gavin," she turned to the man still staring limply at his bruised hands, "Can you prepare the body for travel? Make it as respectful as possible, please."

  "Yes, your Majesty. Right away!" he moved to dart from the tent, when Daryan snatched onto his arm. It would have been no problem for him to shake her off, but he froze in his tracks.

  "This is madness, you are aware? Marching into an unfriendly's fortified camp with the dead body of one of their leaders. Who, I might add, was murdered by our negligence. They will kill you on the spot."

  Rosie locked in her spine, doing her best to not appear at all scared by the proposition before her. The dwarves used to be rather amenable to the occasional diplomatic visit. Then their entire city crumbled, their civilization split in half, and they were reduced to scraping away within Ferelden borders. Rather than flee to the cities, they set up where the deepest hole emerged -- most of their people keeping locked away from any intervention.

  Still, it was within both the King's and future Queen's rights to visit their own land. The dwarves were never granted it, only took it by right of...of having nowhere else to go. Rather than face the headache, her father let them have it, even if the only response he got for his troubles was a lot of spit and an axe with the words "Go Away" carved in it. Maybe it was time to change that. They'd have to work together eventually.

  "The only way we will know, Ser Knight, is if we try. You have my orders," Rosie ordered, glancing around at her people. Karelle was first to scoop up her work while Myra and Gavin both vanished -- perhaps to help prepare the dwarven prince together. Maker, she hoped this was the right call.

  While all around her turned into a flurry, with Ser Daryan cursing under her breath and marching towards her people, a lone tree stood still. Anjali finally lifted her head, her eyes cutting through Rosie as she took a deep breath. Right. There was that discussio
n to be yet had. Tipping her head to the assassin and her lover, Rosamund walked away from her throne and out into the misting rain. She knew Anjali would follow without having to say a word.

  Water beaded up on her skin, Rosie regretting her choice to forgo a cloak the longer she stepped away from her tent. She needed to speak with the assassin, with the woman she let into her bed without a thought, but her eyes kept hunting through the sky. There was no thunderous roll, no crash of lightning. This was a storm that clung to your skin and smothered you in its wet embrace.

  The forest came alive, woody smells of the trees and blanket of leaves awakening in the pressing rain around them. Rosie turned to smell that, getting a hint of a flower in the mass, when she spotted Anjali with a set to her jaw and her eyes hooded. Her tongue fumbled as she spat out, "I had no choice but to keep you imprisoned until..."

  "No," the assassin tipped her head and began to knot her headscarf tighter, "it was a good one. After all, wouldn't want anyone to wonder now, would we?"

  Rosamund glared at her, "Is this the part where you try to infuriate me by acting as if it's all my fault because you're too cowardly to confess what part you really had to play in it?"

  She breathed in fast a moment, her eyes darting around in surprise at getting called out so quickly, "Your sister..."

  "Says you didn't wield the dagger, true. But you came here under the pretense of protecting a royal family. You knew, didn't you? You knew who that dwarf was."

  Rosamund spotted the change in her the second Anjali's eyes fell upon Snowy, her sneer from Gavin attacking her changing to one of quiet contemplation. She didn't even make a fuss about Daryan tying her into a sitting position for the whole night, just let it happen. No smart ass comments, no biting wit. The fight was sucked out of her before anyone even tried.

  "No," Anjali said, her lips pursing in the water, "No, I didn't know who he was. Not until he wound up dead, then it..."

  "Tell me about the murderer," Rosie leaned closer, her breath fuming in the high humidity. It smoked out of her nostrils as if she was about to breathe fire upon Anjali. She was getting very tired of people making a fool out of her. She never imagined it'd be her...whatever she was who'd do it as well.

  Clearly not wanting to talk, Anjali leaned back and groaned. But Rosie was tired of it all. The posturing, the playing, she should have pressed upon this from day one. "You know her, she clearly means something to you. More than you're letting on." Rosie tried to hide the hurt in her voice but it was obvious, her eyes stinging in the sleeting mist.

  "Sapheela, it is not what you assume," Anjali began to reach for her, but Rosie backed away. The fingers she'd delighted in before were razor wire to her mind now. "Yes, she is important but the way a friend is. Nothing more. I am capable of having friends I am not involved with."

  "No," Rosie shook her head. "No more of your half truths or your non answers. She is more than a friend, otherwise you wouldn't have been protecting her this whole time. Talk, now."

  The woman spat out a string of Rivaini which ended with, "You are lucky you are so beautiful or my head would split in half. Very well, as you cannot stop pecking. Yes, she is...important to me, but not in how you assume."

  Anjali began to pace back and forth, her boots wearing into the muddied ground and tearing up sod. Their entire campsite would be a mud pit if this rain continued any longer. "Tenna is, was, my...ah, underling? Apprentice? You don't have a comparable word. I found her when she was nothing but skin and bones, not even a coin to her name. She was scrabbling in the dirt, taking whatever filthy job she could, and I...I pitied her. I wanted to help her."

  Umber eyes bored into Rosie's, daring her to call her on that, but she acquiesced. A mentor/apprentice relationship was possible, though those could become love just as easily as anything else. "So, I taught her, trained her in the only thing I knew."

  "You know more than killing."

  "Ha," Anjali laughed a moment, her skin beading up like black diamonds in the rain. "Yes, a dwarf would work well as a Seer. Perhaps she could have taken my mother's place, though they'd have to take in the robes a bit."

  "Why didn't you tell us she was a dwarf? We could have been on the lookout for one."

  Anjali shrugged, "It did not matter, you'd never see her. That's Tenna's speciality, she vanishes. I don't really know how she does it myself, and I've worked jobs with her. She's just there one minute then gone the next. But it was me who taught her how to hold a blade, how to scissor quickly through spines. To leave a mark mute so as to draw as little attention as possible."

  Her story paused as she tipped her head up to the rain, her eyes closed while water beaded upon the lids. "I may not have wielded the knife, but that man's death was my fault. If I'd never taken Tenna in, nursed her back to health, invited her to the Scarlet Ribbons then...Blessed Andraste, none of this would have happened."

  "She chose it, she did it. Not you," Rosie insisted but Anjali's eyes opened to smile dolefully at her childishness. A burn rose upon her cheeks, Rosie shifting uncomfortably from the knot in her stomach. "Why? Why do that? Frame you? Is she trying to strike back at you?"

  "You think there was a falling out. No, I wish. Perhaps I'd have been faster to stop her."

  "Then why steal your dagger? Why use it to kill Snowy?" These were all questions Myra should have put to her. Rosie paled and turned away. More than likely her sister did, but Anjali wouldn't speak to anyone. She should have been the one to ask her these things, weeks back.

  "Because she needed me out of the picture. The love, I'm afraid, only goes one way. I didn't even realize she was using me for her own plans until I saw the dead dwarf. Truly, Sapheela, I swear I thought she intended to harm you or your brother. I feared she intended to begin Chaos."

  "Chaos?" Rosie pinched into her eyes, growing weary of all this cloak and dagger business.

  "In the event one decides to destroy all of civilization, an old concept drawn up by the great thinkers of our lands. There are plans out there for who to take out and in what order to cripple thedas. Seed fear and distrust, then let it grow. Ferelden happened to be first on it."

  "Well," she smiled wider, "that's surprising."

  "I would not take it as a compliment. The lesser houses are offed first so there is none to provide succor, nor complaint when the greater are bumped off." At that Rosie sneered at Anjali. "Do not blame me, I didn't create it."

  "So it's not me she's after, nor Cailan, or even my father." The thought rattled Rosie. She wasn't in any danger, and hadn't been this whole trip aside from the darkspawn. That should make her smile and lift a weight off her chest, but her heart felt languid and a new concern marred her brow. If this other assassin did not care about Rosamund, then why would her assassin stick around?

  Anjali began to fiddle with the lockpicks under her headscarf. Rosie could have ordered them removed but she figured if the woman wanted to escape, it was better to lose her than keep her around. "No, I...I guessed wrong. I suppose I saw the beautiful princess and assumed...I don't know why. There was only one thing Tenna ever wanted, the only thing she ever talked about."

  "What?"

  "Vengeance," Anjali shook her head. "Assassins, proper ones, are supposed to be above such things. They'd prattle on about it in Orlais nonstop, but in the Ribbons anything that gets you up in the morning is fine by us. We didn't, no, I didn't notice. Didn't care."

  "On who? Who is she after? The dwarven royals?"

  "Yes. Because," Anjali's eyes darted around the grey sky, her lips popping as she breathed, "they're her family. Tenna's one of the seven children of Harrowmant."

  "Why? Why would she want to kill her...her brothers and sisters?"

  "And mother, she was very focused on that one. Damn near every night it was whispered plans on how to destroy her mother," Anjali groaned. "I was such a fool."

  "You didn't answer my question," Rosie folded her arms, growing exhausted with the constant run around.

  "Because I don't
have one. I didn't ask. I didn't care. I thought I'd teach her to kill, she'd find a new home with the Ribbons and forget all that vengeance shit. It was on the other side of thedas, for Andraste's grace! Why would anyone be so driven to blow up their life for...that."

  Somewhere out there was a murderous, assassin-trained dwarf who could vanish in an instant that planned on destroying the entire dwarven royal family. Was it so she could be Queen? That seemed a stretch, no one would follow her while she was covered in her family's own blood. And why was she even banished in the first place? Why was there one that wound up a squire hiding inside their army? Rosamund kept winding up with more questions than answers.

  "Sapheela," Anjali shook her from her thoughts as she cupped their hands together. Even with rain pelting from the frozen clouds, heat radiated up Rosie's prickly fingers while umber eyes stared right into hers.

  "This is a problem," Rosie said, her mind churning over potential answers.

  "Yes, mine."

  The princess' mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes widening as Anjali began to step backwards. But Rosie didn't give up easily. She dug her fingers in and followed, "What do you mean yours?"

  "Tenna is...I fear she might be beyond redemption. I'd hoped to make her see reason, but she killed him. She stabbed her own brother in the back without thought, without pause, and no one here stopped her, saw her."

  "So what? We work together."

  "See the light not the fire," Anjali muttered another of her Rivaini idioms to herself. She shook her head and groaned, "It is my fault, my problem to fix. Not yours. If you become involved, if she were to hurt you..." Anjali cupped her hand around Rosie's cheek, her fingers tugging the princess closer. She should fight it, be mad, but Rosie let herself stumble forward, her forehead pressing into Anjali's lush lips.

  After a long kiss, the assassin whispered against her skin, "I could not live with myself if I put you in that predicament."

  "And I have no say in that? In any of this?" Rosie snapped back, yanking her hands free. Rain water was beading up so thick she could feel it dripping in rivulets from the top of her head down her cheeks. The chill radiated up her spine that could only be broken by a fire rising in her gut.

 

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