Royal Spy (Fate of Eyrinthia Book 2)

by Heather Frost

  Heat blasted his face. He didn’t appreciate the reminder that there had been so many witnesses.

  “You didn’t hurt her,” Liam said quietly. “Focus on that.”

  Maybe he hadn’t physically hurt her, but he had frightened her. Badly. She had shaken in his grip, and her eyes had been wide with terror. The fact that her face had reminded him so much of Mia only gutted him more.

  He jerked another black shirt from his bag and threw it in the open drawer. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  His brother was silent for a long moment before inclining his head. “If you insist. But I’m available if you ever want to talk.”

  Thank you, he wanted to say. But his throat was tight and his fingers had just brushed the vial of Ieannax concealed inside his bag.

  Killing Liam after they finished their mission was becoming more difficult to contemplate. If it wasn’t the only way to ensure Mia’s freedom and save three innocent lives, he would never consider his mother’s request.

  But he didn’t have to think about it. At least not yet.

  Keeping the poison in the bag, he dropped the whole thing into the bottom drawer before kicking it closed and finally facing his brother. “You didn’t come just to check on me.”

  Liam’s mouth twitched wryly. “Kaelins until the end, aren’t we? Always an ulterior motive.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes growing serious. “While I did want to check on you, I also came because there is a conversation I’ve been wanting to have with you, but it hasn’t been safe yet to do so. Now that we have relative privacy in Mortise, we can. As long as we stay away from the door and speak no higher than this, we won’t be overheard. Still, I need you to know that this conversation is dangerous. You cannot un-hear what I’m about to say. Do you understand?”

  Grayson eyed his older brother. Queen Iris was convinced Liam was a traitor, and that is why she wanted him killed—secretly, of course, because she doubted Henri agreed with her assessment. Grayson had been so focused on the actual threats, and the daunting task of killing his brother, that he hadn’t stopped to truly consider if the queen’s fears were real.

  What if Liam was a traitor?

  Grayson’s chest tightened, curiosity burning through him. “I understand.”

  Liam studied him, his eyes intent, his jaw set. “I’m choosing to trust you. I don’t do that lightly. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

  Fates knew he did. They’d both been raised to distrust everything around them—especially their family.

  “I’ve been watching you for a long time, Grayson. You’re different from our brothers. You don’t like what you’ve become. The things Father makes you do. And I think you can guess by now that I don’t, either.”

  His heart thudded in his chest. He was strangely nervous for Liam to confirm his guilt, but he also needed to hear it. To know he wasn’t alone in despising their parents and the monsters they’d twisted their sons to be.

  “I’m working on a plan,” Liam continued. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t share all the details now. But I do not intend to be father’s slave any longer. He’s tortured me all my life, turned me into a monster—he did that to all of us.” His jaw clenched, and the raw emotion in his eyes—the grief and the rage—pierced something deep inside Grayson. “I will destroy him for that alone. With or without you. I need you to understand that now.”

  His meaning was clear: If Grayson got in Liam’s way, Liam would kill him. Or at least die trying.

  Grayson dipped his chin. “I understand.”

  “Good.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I think it’s best for us to be honest with each other. I am not on a path of pure revenge. If that had been my goal, I would have already slit Father’s throat. My plans are much larger. I mean to annihilate him, and our entire family. They will not hurt anyone ever again. That is my goal. If you cannot accept that, then I will walk out of here, and if you ever repeat any of this, I will deny it—and retaliate. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Liam took a breath. “I know about Mia.”

  Silence cut through the room.

  Grayson didn’t move. Or breathe. He didn’t blink as he met his brother’s stare, tension crawling up his spine, though he tried to keep the panic from his face. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  Liam’s expression didn’t change. “You met her as a child, in the dungeon. She’s been imprisoned there since she was seven years old. It’s quite obvious you love her, and if I had to guess, she probably loves you, too. Father has used her to control you. To keep her safe, you do everything he tells you to do, no matter how much you hate it. Hate him.”

  Grayson’s throat clenched as he tried to swallow. Liam knew about Mia. Of all the things he’d expected from his brother, it had not been this.

  But then, Liam was Henri’s spymaster. If anyone in his family would have discovered her, it would be him.

  His fingers twitched at his sides, near one of his belted knives.

  Liam’s falcon eyes caught the movement and he slowly lifted his hands. “Easy. I’m not threatening her.”

  “You’re not?” he asked, an edge to his question.

  “No. I’m offering to help her. To help you both.”

  Once again, Liam had shocked the air out of Grayson’s lungs. The words didn’t make sense, because the concept was so foreign. So unexpected.

  Kaelins didn’t help each other.

  Suspicion arrowed through him, and his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Liam’s arms dropped along with his shoulders and he suddenly looked much older than his twenty years. “Because Mia is an innocent; she shouldn’t be punished for being caught in the mess of our lives. Because you’re my brother, and I actually like you. Because as long as Mia is under Father’s control, he controls you; and whether you want to admit it or not, you are one of Father’s greatest weapons, and losing your support will be a crippling blow to him. Because the man who sired us is a tyrant, and if he is not stopped, he will destroy every last good thing in Eyrinthia. Because I want to destroy him.” He lifted a brow. “Is that sufficient, or do you need more reasons? I have them.”

  Grayson eyed his brother. “How exactly would you help her?”

  “I have contacts at the castle. People who owe me favors or loyalty—or both. I can ensure Mia’s safe removal from the castle. Father will send men after her, so we can’t act until we’re in a position where we can help her, but I can make arrangements so she’ll be brought to us.”

  “To Duvan?”

  “No. Zennor. We’ll meet in the port city Zoroya once our work in Duvan is done. Then we can disappear forever.”

  Grayson’s mind was spinning, his lungs tight with possibility—and fear. “Father will come after us.”

  Liam’s eyes narrowed. “No. Once we’re through with him, he won’t be able to do a fates-blasted thing to anyone ever again. I simply need your trust and your help here in Duvan, and then you can be free of him forever.”

  The future Liam’s words painted was everything Grayson had ever wanted. Freedom from his father. The ability to shed the Kaelin name. The chance to free Mia and live with her in safety—to not have to lose her.

  It was his every dream. And that fact alone made him hesitate, because nothing in his life had ever come without a price. “What do you want from me?”

  Liam’s gaze was serious. “I have a plan, and it will work. All I need is your support, and, when the time is right, we can end this.”

  “That’s not very specific.”

  “Forgive my caution. I’ll share the details later, once I have your support.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  “How does one make any decision? Instinct? Reason? All I can promise is that I will destroy our father, with or without your help. But it will be much easier if you stand with me.” Liam crossed the room and braced a hand beside a tall closed window, his eyes on the sea, his jaw tight. “Father has done uns
peakable things to all of us, but we’re not the only ones he’s ruined.” His throat bobbed, and when he spoke, his voice was low and raw. “He took away the one person who meant everything to me. She’s dead, and I . . .” His mouth clamped shut, and Grayson looked away, allowing his brother a measure of privacy.

  His stomach knotted, but it wasn’t only in sympathy for his brother and the woman he had clearly loved. No, it was because he knew that he wouldn’t be this strong.

  If his father killed Mia, Grayson’s only thought would be to annihilate Henri. There would be no place he could hide; Grayson would find him and kill him. He wouldn’t survive the army that would be sent after him, but then, he wouldn’t want to.

  The fact that Liam could think beyond simple revenge, that he could develop a plan to stop Henri’s evil, and that of their entire family . . . Well, that just showed Liam was a better man than Grayson.

  His brother turned, his face carefully smoothed of his inner turmoil. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked to Grayson. “What do you know about Mia? Who is she?”

  He didn’t think he would answer, he was so protective of Mia. But something—hope? –loosened his tongue. “Mia is a girl Father found. She was close to my age, so he took her, thinking he could manipulate a friendship between us so I would do anything to keep her safe.”

  “And that’s all he said?”

  “Yes.” He eyed Liam. “Why?”

  Liam’s brow furrowed. “What has she told you?”

  Nothing.

  His silence seemed to convey that. Liam’s face softened, and Grayson didn’t like that; it felt too much like pity. “Mia doesn’t like to talk about her past. And where she came from, who she was . . . it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “But aren’t you curious about her origins?”

  Yes. No.

  The skin around Liam’s eyes tightened. “Do you really think Father picked a random child for you to bond with? That his choice was not deliberate?”

  Grayson forced his stiff jaw to move. “What do you know?”

  “Nothing concrete. I have some contacts in Duvan I hope to confer with, and they may be able to confirm some things.” He shook his head. “Whether you decide to help me or not, I’ll share anything I learn about her.”

  Curiosity and guilt twisted inside him. He wanted to know everything about Mia—of course he did. But it seemed wrong. Almost like he was betraying her, because her past was something she had never shared with him.

  Liam spoke again, pulling him from his thoughts. “You don’t have to make any decisions yet. I know I’ve given you a lot to consider. All I ask is that you think about what I’ve said.”

  As he watched his brother leave, Grayson knew he’d be able to think of little else.

  Liam’s parting words still rang in Grayson’s ears hours later as he sat at the head table in the vaulted dining room. Liam sat beside him, and Desfan was on Liam’s other side. They were in a position of honor, but Grayson would have given anything to eat in one of the shadowed corner tables. Or to still be in his room.

  The large dining room roared with laughter and boomed with conversation—all of it in rapid Mortisian, of course, which Grayson struggled to follow. Flutes and stringed instruments were being played in the corner, raising the level of sound even further. It was overwhelming, and he felt oddly vulnerable. Every eye seemed to be on him. One man—bald and middle-aged—watched him so intensely, it was more of a glare. Grayson’s face burned while he tried to eat the unfamiliar foods without choking. The flavors were strong, some of the foods spiced with peppers that made his eyes burn. Even the bread tasted different, dusted with seeds he couldn’t name. He quickly learned he did not like fish, and when he bit into a cube of yellow fruit, the tartness pinched his mouth and made him cough.

  Liam leaned in, his voice low. “Stick to the clam chowder or the seasoned rice. They’re more mild.”

  Desfan glanced at the brothers. “Is there anything I can send for?” He spoke slowly, though not to the point of insult; Liam spoke Mortisian flawlessly, but he’d explained that Grayson was new to the language.

  “Perhaps some unseasoned chicken, if you have it,” Liam said. “Rydenic palettes are rather simple in comparison to Mortisian, I’m afraid.”

  Desfan signaled for a servant, who hurried to the kitchen. “Is the food to your liking, Prince Liam?”

  “Yes, but my tastes have always been more exotic than my brother’s.”

  Desfan gave Grayson a sympathetic smile. “If there is anything you crave, you have only to ask. I want you to be comfortable.”

  Grayson couldn’t imagine ever being comfortable here, but he tipped his head. “Thank you.”

  “You’ve been so accommodating already,” Liam added smoothly. “The rooms are wonderful, and this feast is a generous welcome for us.”

  “We’re grateful for your presence,” Desfan said. “It means a great deal to have you here, supporting the alliance between Mortise and Devendra.”

  “I hope we can enter discussions for peace between all our kingdoms, once Princess Serene arrives. When do you expect her?”

  “Within the month. She would have arrived sooner, but she was delayed.”

  “Oh? All is well, I hope?”

  “She was injured during a protest by some rebels, but I was assured her recovery will be full.”

  “That is a relief.” Liam lifted his wineglass and took a careful sip. “I heard a rumor that the Rose has been hired to kill her.”

  Desfan’s jaw tightened. “Unfortunately, it’s not a rumor.”

  Liam winced. “How awful. I assume you’ve sent men to her aid?”

  “Unfortunately, King Newlan declined my offer. From the beginning, he insisted that our kingdoms be seen as equals, which is why he wants the princess to come to Mortise with only Devendran guards.” Desfan used a fork to prod the fish on his plate, his brow furrowing. “Regardless, when I heard she’d been injured, I considered going personally.”

  “What stopped you?” Liam asked, curiosity threading his tone.

  The serjah offered a wry smile. “Responsibility, of all things. With my father ill, it falls to me to run the country. I can’t just leave.”

  Liam accepted this with a nod and set his wineglass back on the table. “Is it true Princess Imara travels with Princess Serene?”

  “Yes, I received a letter from King Zaire informing me that his daughter wished to see her cousin safely settled here. She will stay until the betrothal is officially signed.”

  “A historic occasion,” Liam observed. “Royals from all four kingdoms, all in one place.”

  “I pray to the fates it’s a sign of good things to come,” Desfan said.

  “I pray for the same,” Liam said, raising his glass.

  As Liam and Desfan continued their conversation, Grayson watched his brother. He wondered once again what his plan was. He couldn’t imagine what they could do from here to steal King Henri’s power, but Liam was the Shadow, the spymaster of Ryden. Whatever the plan, it would be well-thought out.

  He supposed the whole thing could be a ploy—a test orchestrated by Henri to gauge Grayson’s allegiance. But the emotion in Liam’s voice today as he’d spoken of the woman he’d lost . . . No, he didn’t think Liam had pretended that. And his heart ached for his brother, because without Mia, the world would be a void. He would be a void.

  He would also have nothing to lose. That was something he would do well to remember, since it could make a man ruthless or foolhardy—or both.

  Grayson had also considered the fact that Iris wanted Liam dead because she suspected him of treason. That meant his careful brother had let something slip, which meant his plans were not as secure as Liam might think. His entire revolution might be doomed to fail—yet another reason to turn away from it.

  He had briefly thought about telling Liam that the queen wanted him dead, but he’d almost instantly rejected the idea. Not only would it put Liam on guard—a problem, if Gr
ayson did have to follow-through and kill him—but it could ruin the tenuous trust they were starting to build. Liam, Mother asked me to kill you, but I promise I won’t . . . Fates, it sounded horrible enough in his head, and the truth was, it wasn’t a promise he could even make. Because Mia’s fate mattered more to him than anyone else’s.

  And he wasn’t sure he could risk her life. Not even for the future Liam had painted; a future where Grayson and Mia could both be free—together.

  In the end, he wanted to believe in Liam. He just wasn’t ready to plunge into treason with him. At least not yet.

  Grayson’s milder food arrived, and he tried it cautiously. He didn’t care for the clam chowder, but the rice was flavored lightly, as was the chicken. Maybe he wouldn’t starve here, after all.

  Liam and Desfan chatted as the meal continued. Grayson followed most of it; he’d quickly learned that he could understand Mortisian far better than he could speak it.

  He heard when Liam’s voice grew a little more serious. “I have heard talk of olcain coming into Duvan.”

  “Yes,” Desfan said, fingering the stem of his wineglass. “But the drug was seized, and an investigation is ongoing.”

  Liam shook his head. “Terrible stuff. Who brought it into the city?”

  “It was smuggled on a merchant ship.”

  “Oh?” Liam’s eyes widened a little, and Grayson could not decide if the spark of surprise was genuine or an act. Because clearly, his brother was fishing for information. “I would think most merchants would stay far away from such things.”

  “Yes, well, the Nassars have a history of taking risks.”

  “Hmm,” Liam frowned. “Nassar . . . the name is familiar.”

  “Their family has a long history in the shipping business. I’m sure they have come to Ryden as well as Zennor.” Desfan lifted his wine for a quick sip. “They also have a history of avoiding any accusations we throw at them. The head of the business—Rahim Nassar—is apparently in Zennor, and his second in command claims the Nassar ship was stolen.” He shook his head. “At the moment, the Nassars are a dead end.”