The Traitor's Daughter

by Claire Robyns

  The fiery tension between them said otherwise. “You put honour before yourselves,” I protested.

  “Don’t create problems where there are none,” Markus said flatly. “Amelia and I were done ten years ago.”

  I clamped my mouth, partly out of respect for Markus’ wishes and privacy, mostly because Jeremy returned with the soft wax. A short while later, I sent Markus off with his royal letter of appointment as Captain of the Queen’s Guard. That would open the armoury doors and ensure decent quarters in the barracks for all of them.

  Resettling my people consumed the rest of the day. The hours spent in my office with Amelia were mostly undone, the arranged positions and accommodations scrambled and puzzled back together with the individuals whose livelihoods were at stake. Much to Amelia’s chagrin. I understood her concerns. The citizens of the Silver Valley were born into their trade and place in society, they did not get to pick and choose. But most of my people had originally served in the King’s army or at court as high-ranking officials. Since those professions were not viable options, I felt it only fair to bend the rules.

  James and Benjamin were released from the infirmary and when I visited there, I was relieved to find Liam sitting up in bed and well on his way to recovery. He’d been a close friend to Gavin and we discussed the burial options. Jarvis and Lennard were of prestigious baron families and their relations had already made arrangements. They’d be buried on the family estate beside their loved ones. Gavin had only us, a different kind of family but family all the same.

  “Outside the town walls,” Liam said without hesitation. “He wouldn’t want his bones to rest in this place.”

  I searched Liam’s haggard, bearded face for resentment or disappointment, found none. His loyalty to me ran too deep for that. He accepted my actions and choices that had brought us here as if they were his own.

  By midday, Markus had returned with David. As suspected, he’d been hiding out in the caves.

  Everyone was now accounted for, both the living and the dead.

  Throughout the day, the story of Markus and Amelia played heavily on my mind. So many lives had been torn apart by the rift in this kingdom. Families. Friends. Lovers.

  My father always said the past couldn’t be undone.

  He was right.

  I witnessed it a hundred times and more as Amelia’s team worked alongside my people to get everyone moved and initiated into their new lives. Tempers were frayed, words were curt, politeness was in short supply.

  Nathanial’s brutal choices had united this kingdom, but it would take a lot more to heal the rift. The peace was fragile, a makeshift necessity between us and them. All I could do, all any of us could do, was try not to fracture it. The best we could do was pretend, live and work side by side without killing each other, and maybe one day our children would do better.

  - 13 -

  According to Jeremy’s schedule, I arrived half an hour late for supper. I wasn’t accustomed to living by the hours on a clock and assumed Nathanial would begin without me. Which he might have done, if we’d been dining alone. Instead, the terrace doors were flung wide open to allow our guests to mingle and sip on their wine in the fading sunlight. Three elderly men I vaguely recognized from last night. A middle-aged couple I hadn’t seen before. James and Amelia standing slightly apart from the others, engaged in private conversation.

  Nathanial spotted me hovering and came inside. He wore charcoal tailored pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the throat. His hair fell silky and sleek to scuff the collar, his cheekbones razor sharp.

  For just a clip in time and space, my breath caught at the darkly beautiful man striding toward me. There and gone, like a traitorous flutter in the night.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

  I looked at the short glass in his hands. “Is that whiskey?”

  He grinned. “A woman after my own heart.”

  I sincerely doubted it.

  “I didn’t realize we were entertaining,” I remarked as I walked over with him to the drinks board.

  His gaze roamed down my plain white shirt and tan leather pants. “Would you have made more of an effort?”

  I glanced over at our guests, all dressed in their evening finery. Except for Amelia, who hadn’t changed for supper either. Then again, she’d started the day in a flowing summery dress that could grace any occasion.

  “Highly unlikely,” I drawled.

  His response was a deep-throated rumble as he poured my drink and passed it to me.

  “We’re not entertaining, not particularly,” he said. “This is just the usual assembly of whoever’s currently staying at the castle.” He shot a pointed look at James and Amelia. “Some more permanent than others.”

  We stood shoulder to shoulder, observing the couple. Amelia, still fairly young, vibrant and gorgeous. James had the handsome Glamorgan features, and he carried the extra years and too much good living rather well. They certainly appeared happy, too engrossed in each other to feel our stares.

  “I would’ve thought James would spend more time at his estate now that he had someone to share it with,” I observed.

  “He thought so, too,” Nathanial said. “It’s Amelia’s ambitions that keep them here.”

  Steward of Commerce. Such high-ranking positions came with a seat on the King’s advisory council and were usually reserved for white-haired men. And always for prominent blue-blooded members of the baron families. There were seven baronies—and new ones could be created as and when required—the titles and estates granted to younger royal siblings over time. In essence, they were all Glamorgan relations, some more distant than others depending on how long the barony had been held. Two of those were currently reverted to the crown, the family line died out, and would be held for future generations.

  “What baron family is Amelia from?” I asked.

  “She isn’t,” he said. “Her father was the town mayor. She took over as mayor when he passed away three years ago. Until I made her my Steward of Commerce, that is.”

  “How odd.” The position of town mayor was appointed, not inherited. And it was unheard of for a top court position to be held outside of a baron family.

  “Not at all.” Nathanial sipped on his whiskey, his gaze turned to me. “Amelia is a remarkable woman, the kind who makes an impression that cannot be ignored.”

  He didn’t say it, but the question formed and couldn’t be unasked. She hadn’t been born into a baron family, so had she married into one to further her ambitions? If so, I didn’t know whether to be impressed or appalled.

  Then again, whatever the circumstances, she clearly made James happy. Which was more than I could say for my marriage. “It seems Amelia’s ambitions are exceeded only by her charm.”

  “And her beauty, wit, intelligence,” Nathanial continued smoothly. “She’s compassionate and clear-headed, pragmatic and idealistic, and she has an uncanny ability to make that all work together.”

  “Sounds like you should have made her your Queen.”

  “I considered it.”

  What a pity that was all he’d done. “Then I came along and you couldn’t resist adding High Chancellor to your crown.”

  “Actually, James came along,” he said. “He showed his hand and I took a step back.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because you’re such a chivalrous, altruistic saint.”

  He gave another of those warm, rumbling chuckles. “James was in love with her. I was not.”

  Well. I tried to tell myself this was a good thing. The man had a weakness. He did sometimes let emotions rule his head.

  But something soft and warm pinged my heart as I looked into his slate-grey eyes, and that was not good.

  That was the ground shifting beneath my feet.

  How could I ever feel anything soft and warm for Nathanial?

  I couldn’t.

  I raised the glass to my lips, welcomed the numbing sensation as the whiskey slid down my throat and lined my s
tomach.

  “I heard you formed a guard of your own,” he said.

  “The Queen’s Guard,” I confirmed. “I suppose Amelia told you.”

  “Not before General Sunderland did.”

  “You disapprove?”

  “I applaud the bold and decisive move.” He studied me over the rim of his glass. “Have you considered how it looks?”

  “You have the King’s Guard.”

  “Which does not consist of hand-picked rebels,” he said. “Surely you see how divisive this appears? You should consult Sunderland in the morning. He’ll select suitable soldiers—”

  “—no, he won’t,” I cut in coldly. “For goodness sake, Nathanial, you don’t honestly think I’d let that man choose anything for me, let alone my personal guards.”

  “Then you choose,” he said. “I’ll take you to the barracks tomorrow.”

  “I’ve already chosen. Those hand-picked rebels, as you call us, are the people I’ve fought alongside with, survived with. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my life.”

  “You don’t need to trust anyone with your life,” he said in a low voice.

  I squared a fierce, challenging look on him. “Are you ordering me to disband my guard?”

  His jaw tightened. He rubbed his brow, dragged that hand down to his jaw and I wondered what I’d do, right here, right now, if he gave the order. Wondered what he’d do if I defied him.

  Nathanial threw back the remainder of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the sideboard. “At least get rid of Markus.”

  “Markus is my right hand man.”

  “He is a match and when he strikes, we’ll all burn.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” I scoffed.

  “You’re being unreasonably stubborn and sentimental.”

  “Markus was second-in-command to my father, then to me.” My voice pitched. I pulled it back. “How would you suggest I get rid of him? Send him off to apprentice with the baker?” I shook my head on a dry laugh. “No, that is never going to happen. I need him by my side.”

  “Rose, listen to me…” He stood closer, took my hand in his. His fingers caressed mine, the pad of his thumb rubbing the Celtic knots of the ring that bound me to him.

  Maybe I overreacted, but suddenly it was all too much. My spine bristled and I jerked away.

  “Don’t.” He deftly snagged my hand again with an iron-clad grasp. The more I struggled to twist free, the more firmly he held. “I don’t care how repulsed you are in the privacy of our bedroom. But in public, you will not pull away from me.”

  “It’s all about appearances to you, isn’t it?” I hissed.

  “Damn straight it is.” A shadow crossed his brow. “It takes just one word leaked from this room, Rose, to start a rumour.”

  “Are you scared your subjects learn how unwilling your bride is?”

  “It’s your people I’m worried about.”

  A server walked in to sound the dinner gong. Nathanial waited a beat, then leaned in, dropped his voice a little lower. “So you will engage me, smile and pretend to welcome my affections if it kills you. Do you understand?”

  I didn’t want to. I wanted to give Nathanial the cold shoulder, treat him like a piece of dirt stuck beneath my shoe. But he offered his arm to take us to our seats and I took it with a smile, because he was right. If my people knew how I really felt about this marriage, they’d rise up in rebellion and there’d be a bloodbath inside the town walls.

  The table was large enough to seat three times our number and places had been set at both heads. Unfortunately Nathanial pulled out a chair for me in the middle and seated himself directly across from me. We had the width of the table between us, but I would have preferred the entire length.

  Amelia sent James off to take the seat beside Nathanial so she could grab the spot to my left with the disclaimer, “I’m absolutely starved for female company.”

  I laughed and relaxed a little as a line of footmen entered bearing silver platters. The food they served was of a similar variety to what we had on the mountain, only here it was dressed better, each dish designed to tempt the senses. A swirl of melted butter on the pumpkin broth. Glazed lemon drizzled over the fish. The strawberry ice cream, on the other hand, was a long-forgotten treat from my childhood and tasted like sin on my lips.

  Amelia was a natural hostess, keeping the conversation alive throughout the meal and making a point of including everyone. In between amusing anecdotes, she fed me titbits in whispered asides.

  The middle-aged couple’s daughter was in the infirmary and they’d accepted the King’s hospitality so they could stay close. “She survived the summer cough last year. It was a particularly brutal strain and Doctor Lossing recalls those patients for every minor complaint. He fears their lungs are still weakened and may take years to fully recover.”

  The cough swept through the valley every winter. Usually it was a benign, unpleasant ailment, but every now and then a lethal epidemic broke out in the summer months. The young, old and frail were most at risk, but there were no guarantees for the strong and healthy either.

  “We heard reports of the outbreak last year,” I murmured. “Thankfully it didn’t touch us on the mountain.”

  “Interesting,” Amelia said. “I’ll pass that onto Doctor Lossing for his research.”

  The three elderly men were the younger brothers of Jarvis.

  “Four boys, all born a year or so apart.” Amelia nudged a look at one of them. “Thomas, he hopes to be the new Lord Ellis now that Jarvis is dead.”

  “I thought Jarvis’ title was stripped years ago,” I said.

  “Not officially,” Amelia informed me. “If he’d been named a traitor, the Barony of Ellis would have reverted to the crown and the entire family would have lost everything, the estate and title.”

  “But he—” I bit my tongue, not sure how much Amelia knew about the circumstances of Jarvis’ death. “So, Nathanial never declared Jarvis a traitor?”

  “It could still happen posthumous,” she said. “That is why Thomas is here. To take Jarvis’ body home, of course, but also to settle estate affairs with the King.”

  “What of Lennard?” I asked. He was the second-eldest and I’d never imagined his family could lose everything for his loyalty to us.

  “The Extended Treason Act applies only to the head of the family,” Amelia said. “The Barony of Byrnestone was never compromised.”

  I sipped on my wine, mulling over the intricacies of politics while Amelia captured the table’s attention with a dazzling smile and quirky tale. I did not envy her effortless charm and grace, but I was uncomfortably aware of how I paled in comparison to her ingrained knowledge.

  She seemed to have her finger on the pulse of everything and everyone.

  I felt like I was lost in the tunnels of our mountain, half-blinded and running in the dark. My father had raised me to look toward the future, but this kingdom was embedded in the roots of the past.

  How did I reconcile one with the other?

  Every decision I’d made today had been with my head and heart still up on that mountain. From the Queen’s Guard to dismissing Amelia’s concerns regarding the rigid traditions upon which this kingdom was built.

  I regretted none of it, but I had to come down from that mountain if I wanted to be a Queen and High Chancellor to everyone, not just my people.

  After supper, I cornered Nathanial outside on the terrace. “What will you do about the Barony of Ellis?”

  “Nothing.” He leant back against the railing. “Thomas will be the new Lord Ellis.”

  “But Jarvis was executed for treason.”

  “That’s not public knowledge, nor is it documented.” He folded his arms, cocked his head. “You don’t agree?”

  “Of course I agree. Jarvis was loyal to us. I’m pleased—grateful—his family will not pay dearly for it.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “My father, and then I, ruled supreme with our hearts and conscie
nce,” I said, surprising myself by speaking openly and honestly. Maybe this was the leap down from that mountain. “We were not bound by regulations or law. Here there is a complex blend of written law, governing rules and the King’s whim.”

  “It’s not all that complex.” He shrugged. “The written law is non-negotiable and I usually seek council from my advisors before I override any of the other rules.”

  “And Jarvis?”

  “He’s an exception, not a whim,” Nathanial said. “I never make such decisions lightly.”

  “But you do make them, and lives are changed.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  I turned from his watchful gaze to put my hands on the railing and stared out into the inky sky. It was a clear night, the sky lit with a million stars. The same sky I’d looked out on these last ten years, the single remaining constant in my life. In the distance, I could just make out the shadow of our rocky ridge peeking above the blackened swathes of forest.

  That was my past, set in stone and as unmovable as the mountain itself.

  The future was down here, precarious and uncertain and unavoidable. I could do it, walk the future one step at a time, but until I knew who and why I truly was, I’d never keep up with Nathanial Glamorgan.

  I shifted to look at him. “If you die without an heir, the throne falls to me.”

  A grin softened his features. “You having murderous thoughts again?”

  “Always,” I said, but my tone was light and a smile slipped out. “Why wouldn’t your uncle be next in line?”

  “The crown is subject to direct succession,” Nathanial said. “James would have been next in line only if my father died without an heir. If I had siblings, they would be eligible only until my first child was born, then all their rights to the crown would be forfeited. It’s written—”

  “—into the law,” I cut in with a sigh. “But why? Our ancestors, the first High Chancellor and the first King, wrote those laws. Why would the first King have agreed to such a stringent restriction?”

  “My family dates back to the Clan Chiefs of Glamorgan and Earls of Scotland. Our history is bloodied with ambitious men clawing for power and ill-disguised justice. Narrowing the law of succession removes the temptation.”