Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  I never spoke of my mother. No one did.

  A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “If you wanted the crown so badly, did you really think encroaching upon our dungeons would gain my brother’s attention?”

  Rage infused my tone. “How dare you—”

  “Or were you going for pity with this look?” His gazed lowered to my clenched fists.

  I gave up all pretenses, realizing they were useless. “I didn’t want any attention at all, Your Highness.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “I didn’t come to your kingdom to stay, but to pass through. It was your men that stopped me.”

  He closed the file with a snap. The hard lines of his face deepened as he regarded me. “Passage amid our two kingdoms has been forbidden for many years, Princess, due to the wars fought against your uncle to keep our lands safe from his greed.”

  The muscles between my brows pinched, but I kept my voice as even as possible. “The war is over. Peace has been established. Our roads should be reopened to allow safe passage.”

  He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the top of his desk. “Did Johan tell you that? Neither kingdom has seen peace since before the demon wars, over twenty years ago. Treaties have just begun. Your uncle’s offering of his only blood relation was a way of beginning that treaty.”

  “I—” I couldn’t form the appropriate sentence. “I was not aware of any offering…” At least any offer that had been made. As far as I knew, he had only mentioned the idea to me the day of my escape. That was the very reason I had fled my kingdom, but I would never have run toward a country we still were at war with. It made no sense.

  “And why would you want to leave your country?” the prince pressed.

  I swallowed. “My reasons are my own.” Phantom pain slid through the burn at my neck, touching upon the others that would stay unseen.

  “They must not have been that important. You barely put up a fight. Only an ear was lost before you gave up. That’s nothing for you.”

  Tired of this interrogation, I slid on a fake smile. It was the face I displayed when necessary. A mask to hide what weakness lay beneath. “I didn’t want to be recognized.”

  “That’s right. Because Eira’s Demon Daughter would be recognized within my kingdom. How old were you when you started fighting for king and country? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

  I was twelve, not that I would tell him.

  He continued. “Your name is one of legends.”

  “Legends can be deceiving. I do not own that ridiculous title.” Or at least I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of it. “Surely you must know there’s no such person. Just stories spread to incite fear among the enemy.”

  “Stories spawn from somewhere, Princess.” He threw down another piece of paper. A sketch. And I froze.

  “As you see, not everyone who has seen your face has died. This was created by someone who saw you and lived to tell the tale.”

  The blood drained from my already paled cheeks. I stared at a terrifying sketch of me—or what appeared to be me—in full battle gear. Flames haloed my body in a harrowing depiction of what I believed was my inner beast. How the artist managed to draw such amazing detail was beyond understanding. Only one had ever called me the Demon Daughter of Eira to my face, and I had killed him. Is that what I really looked like? Who else knew?

  He smiled wickedly, exposing a perfect set of white teeth. “Obviously, the artist leans toward the dramatic, but it’s close enough.”

  I glared, my mind spinning an escape through a castle I didn’t know.

  The prince’s gaze did not flinch. “This whole time you’ve been here, you have not stated who you are, tried to reach out to your uncle, or made any attempt to flee.”

  “Your cells are incredibly cushy.”

  He ignored my flippant reply. “Why?”

  I turned away with a lift of my chin, unwilling to tell him, to expose myself any further.

  With a sigh, the prince sat down in his chair. He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head. “When my father was alive, he made several attempts toward peace negotiations, but Johan resisted and continued in his campaign against us. Why now do we find our prison cells holding a silent princess? Why now does your king send you as an offering?”

  Why indeed. If I had an answer to that question, I wouldn’t be sitting across from a scheming magician.

  He waited, seconds that felt like hours. “In the king’s attached letter, it speaks of a woman well versed in literature and who loves to recite poetry. Will you not speak so I can continue hearing your lovely voice?”

  Humiliation grew to anger. Pride pricked at the back of my eyes. “What answer could I give that you would believe? It’s clear you do not trust me, and I have no reason to trust you. I have no answers for your highness.”

  “Then you agree we are at an impasse?” When I again didn’t answer, he gathered my uncle’s sketch and tucked it away in his folder. “At one time, we would have no difficulty hanging you for the crimes you’ve committed against my people—”

  “What crimes have I committed? We were at war.”

  “—but now that Johan declares a desire for this so-called peace, I have no choice but to send word to your king that you are here.”

  Lady Anna

  I shot to my feet. The blood ran from my face. “No!”

  Prince Castiel’s eyes narrowed at my outburst. “If your uncle chooses to uphold this peace, we will permit you to leave with an attendant. Until that time, you will be given room and proper clothes. We can’t have your kingdom think you were mistreated within our home.”

  My head spun. I could feel his walls, my uncle’s walls, pressing against me, worse than any cell anyone could lock me in. My breathing deepened as I mentally assessed my situation. I was in no condition to kill the prince, unsure of what additional magic he possessed. Even if I could manage, I didn’t need two countries vying for my head.

  He stretched one long leg out to the side. “For the time being, you are our guest and will be treated with the utmost respect while you remain, Princess. For your safety you will go by Lady Anna—daughter to an unknown country lord, recently deceased. You were attacked by rogue bandits and mistakenly imprisoned with the captives.”

  My face grew hot beneath his steady gaze. “Why the charade?”

  “That’s rather obvious, isn’t it? No one knows who you are, but I wouldn’t put it past anyone to figure it out and take revenge on a sworn enemy. Don’t leave your room unattended, and even then… don’t leave your room.”

  My throat tightened in anxiety as my gaze darted about my surroundings, searching for something—anything—to sway his decision.

  “Please…” It slipped from my lips before I could stop the word.

  “What?”

  “Release me. Let me leave your country. I won’t bother anyone. I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.”

  His gaze tightened as he regarded me. He sat up sharply. “Why?” His eyes delved into mine, searching my reaction. “Why would a spoiled young woman, a lady of noble birth, not want her only living relation to know where she is?”

  My mouth clamped shut.

  He rolled his eyes. “Spin your royal woes somewhere else. I don’t have time for them, and neither does the king.”

  Blood boiled at the coldness of his expression—an expression I had seen so many times before on my uncle. This made it easy to shut down. Straight-backed, I stared at the wall, waiting for my sentence.

  A knock at the door sounded, then a stout woman entered. Wisps of gray streaked through brown hair. Her brown eyes looked almost bored as she clasped her hands in front of her, calmly waiting instruction. “Your Highness?”

  The prince nodded toward the woman. “This is Sameen. She and Lieutenant Mikael are the only two people other than the king and I who know your identity. For your sake, let’s hope it stays that way. Sameen will be your lady’s maid until your removal.” He looked
to the woman. “Escort Lady Anna to her room. See to her needs and burn those disgusting rags.”

  The woman tipped her head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “You will be confined to the east wing with guards posted at your door at all times for your… protection, until you can be claimed. And my lady…” He speared me with his keen eyes. “I wouldn’t do anything foolish, or this time you won’t be enjoying the hospitality of our prison.” He waved his hand as if shooing a bothersome fly, and with that we were dismissed.

  My shoulders dropped. Obediently, I stood before the maid. She watched me oddly before gesturing me to follow. The giant, Mikael, stood just beyond, his arms folded over his barreled chest.

  I reached the threshold and stopped. Without turning back, I spoke over my shoulder. “There’s a man in your prison that arrived at the same time I did. He’s a spy and very dangerous. You might want to keep an eye on him.”

  There was a pause before Prince Castiel spoke again. “We know.”

  My bones creaked as I followed behind the maid who jingled when she walked, keenly aware of the heavy steps behind me. My heart sunk, burning in the acid of an empty stomach.

  But from that burn, anger rose. My mind snapped to my surroundings, taking in every hallway we traversed, every narrow passageway we passed. Calculating… always calculating my next steps.

  I was at a disadvantage. I had only seen brief glimpses of Meyrion, Anolyn’s castle, between the slits of the prison carriage. The towering edifice was much smaller than my king’s, but what it lacked in size, it made up in beauty. It had stood majestic against a darkening evening sky, a great stone giant of pointed arches and flying buttresses, magnificent spires and stained windows. It graced a breathtaking landscape of lush green fields stretching on for miles, a feature afforded by a much warmer climate.

  Sameen stopped in front of a doorway, producing a set of keys from her dress pocket. For the briefest of seconds, I contemplated snapping her neck and taking her keys. The maid I could take care of, but the giant was a whole other story. Out on the battle field I might have a fighting chance, if that fighting chance was that he was nearly dead already.

  We entered a cavernous room and I almost gasped. A tapestry of bright, cheerful colors hung from the wall, the only decoration in the space. Across from it rested an oversized fourposter bed flowing with a canopy of linens draped from each corner. My body ached as I eyed blush-colored pillows resting upon layers of matching blankets. A single nightstand sat free of clutter on one side of the bed.

  Heavy white curtains drawn away from paneled windows revealed the afternoon downpour still ongoing. Two wooden chairs huddled near the roaring fire. In the warmer kingdom of Anolyn, rain fell as easily as the snow in Eira. This was advantageous. In snow, you left a visible trail, but in rain, tracks washed away as quickly as they came if one was careful.

  The fireplace beckoned me to its warmth, but despite the tremor that ran up my spine, I waited to be escorted inside. It was too beautiful to be mine.

  Sameen cleared her throat, but not for me. She waited for Mikael to make a quick inspection of my temporary apartment. Before he finished, the giant gave me his full attention. With a smirk, he bowed, keeping his pointed glare pinned to mine. His dark grey eyes dared me to do something foolish, then he slinked from the room.

  Sameen guided me behind a paneled privacy screen. A large wash tub steamed with hot water, and a new aroma assaulted my sensitive senses.

  “What’s that smell?” I asked.

  She seemed confused. Her hands pushed a rogue strand of gray hair back into place. “Have your never bathed?”

  “Of course, but what’s in the water?”

  “Lavender.”

  I scrunched up my nose to the strong perfume.

  “Give me your robe and underthings,” she said, holding out her hands.

  My mouth went dry. “Can you afford me some privacy?”

  “No.”

  I closed my eyes and turned my back before stripping off my clothes.

  Sameen inhaled sharply, and I knew what she saw to cause her to react as she did. The scarring would be equally bad on my abdomen and chest. When I twisted around her eyes were wide in horror. She swallowed nervously, but schooled her expression, taking the gown from my outstretched hand.

  “You’ll find soap and a rag somewhere in the water, but soak first,” she said, tipping her head toward the bath. Then she hesitated. “The soap will probably sting.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  She shrugged. Her nose crinkled as she bundled the robe, holding it away from her. She moved beyond the screen, leaving me alone.

  I carefully stepped into the tub, shocked with the first touch of the hot water. It took me several seconds to adjust to the heat before I could settle completely. My mind melted as warmth enveloped my skin. For the briefest of moments I allowed myself to sink into its watery depths, wishing I could stay there forever. When the last bubble of air leaked from my mouth, I breached the surface.

  Sameen was busily dragging a chair towards the tub. She set it behind me, sitting herself on its cushioned seat. From her deep pockets she pulled a brush and a small vial of some unknown ointment. When she reached for my hair I jerked away, sloshing water over the sides.

  Her fingers stilled. “You’ll need help with that mess,” she said. Her eyes examined my face, waiting for my response.

  I touched the matted black tresses. “I’ll cut it off.”

  “No. I can fix it.” Although she tried to mask it, concern oozed from her soft brown eyes. “Please.”

  Slowly I rotated in the bath water, a silent acquiescence. She applied the ointment, massaging it into the knotted strands.

  I sat still for several minutes, forcing my nerves to calm through a controlled breath. When I finally rubbed the soap over my skin, I hissed at the sting.

  Sameen hummed. “I told you so.”

  She worked feverishly, but her fingers were gentle as she pried apart the mess of hair. After a second rinse, her tugs became less frequent. The brush felt like heaven against a sore scalp.

  A knock on the door caused me to duck into the water.

  “It’s only the guard,” she said as she stood to answer. Whispered voices frayed my already delicate nerves. Sameen returned with a towel and a robe that she placed next to the tub. Heart racing, I reached to scrub the back of my neck, but she took the cloth from me, gently washing away the grime. “You’re practically skin and bone, but not as bad as I thought you’d be after months in a cell. Regardless, I’ve asked for food to be brought.”

  I wrapped my arms around my knees to subdue my shaking limbs. “Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice weak.

  She didn’t answer.

  After a minute, she finally spoke. “A missive is being prepared as we speak and will be sent to your uncle. King Riaan wishes to see you tomorrow… after you see the healer.”

  I swirled. “I don’t need a healer.”

  She met my gaze. “Yes, you do, and if you don’t want me to make known to the king what I recognize your marks to truly be, I suggest you obey his wishes.”

  Heat enflamed my face. She waited for my answer. I nodded once then sank within the depths of my humiliation.

  I sat in the bath until the water lost its warmth and my skin dimpled in cold. Sameen wrapped me in a thick, cream-colored robe that fell to my toes and set me in a comfortable chair in front of the fire. Her fingers pulled through my wet tangles, using the heat from the fire to help it to dry.

  “You have a lovely wave to your hair,” she said. “And what a wonderful color it has. I thought it was black, but it’s really a deep brown, isn’t it?”

  I closed my eyes, almost enjoying her ministrations.

  My lady’s maid in Anolyn, Pala, used to do this very thing for me when I was younger and naiver, but the woman was not what she seemed. No one was.

  Another rap on the door caused me to jump. Sameen was already across the room. She opened
the door a crack to peer out but then skirted back with a bow.

  Mikael entered, carrying a silver serving tray. The prince followed his guard but froze two steps within the door when our gazes locked. My breath stilled in my lungs.

  “I see now that your uncle’s artist is an incompetent fool,” he said.

  The muscles between my brows tightened. I gripped the handles of the chair, jolting to the edge of the seat. “This is highly inappropriate, don’t you think?”

  His hand flew out to halt me in place. “Please, stay where you are.” Piercing blue eyes searched my face and trailed the length of my hair down to the scar on my neck—then to the walls to inspect the tapestry that hung there instead. “You are an enemy and a recently released prisoner. Do you really think we respect your privacy? Besides, we bring you your dinner, Princess.”

  My ragged nails dug into the soft wood of the arm rest. “I did not know that the prince of Anolyn was such a generous host. I might have left your prison sooner for such comforts.”

  A smile lit the corners of his mouth. He gave a slight bow. “It’s amazing what a warm bath and hot dinner can do for one’s outlook on life, is it not?”

  “I thought you did not have the time for such bothers.”

  “I don’t.”

  He tipped his head to Mikael, who handed the tray to Sameen. She set it on my lap—a small bowl of stew and another slice of bread.

  My mouth exploded into salivating, but I didn’t move to eat.

  Mikael began to search the room.

  Castiel cleared his throat and peered out the windows to the vast expanse of his royal lawns. Did I sense nervousness in the lines of his face? But whatever I saw in his magnificent profile—for it was magnificent—was gone when he looked at me again.

  “It has come to my attention that you have more injuries to you than what was delivered today by Scores.”

  I couldn’t control the flush in my cheeks, or the sense of betrayal from Sameen. I should already be accustomed to such treatment.

  “Who else hurt you?” he asked, unaware of my mental berating.