Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  I blinked. No one had ever asked me such a thing, but an immediate answer flew to my lips. “I don’t like to be touched.”

  Her fingers stilled. “But I’m touching you now.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that even the feel of her fingers on the buttons of my dress made my skin crawl. She allowed the silence and came around to survey her work. “Will you permit me to do your hair?”

  “If you wish.”

  “If I wish?” Her eyes delved into mine, suddenly thick with an emotion I could not read. “I don’t know what life was like for you in Eira, but here you’re—”

  “Safe?” I interrupted. My tone dared her to argue my point.

  Her mouth clamped closed. She couldn’t promise something she had no control over.

  Her next words were slow. “Here, it’s different.”

  I didn’t think so. People were all the same. Egotistical. Self-serving. Evil.

  Her fingers twirled my long hair into a makeshift style. “Another braid perhaps?”

  The prince walked in just as Sameen secured her work. A long, loose braid fell over my shoulder to my elbow.

  He crossed his arms over the expanse of his chest. “I see the dress fits,” he said, eyeing the handiwork of his servant.

  My breath hitched inside my lungs and I looked away to avoid his scrutiny.

  “Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  He was already out the door. Sameen prodded me to follow.

  “The king has requested your presence,” he said over his shoulder.

  We traveled in a single file. I followed in Castiel’s footpath as Reese shadowed mine. I tried to remember the steps I had taken with my guard during the previous night’s escape, but we rounded a different corner and went the opposite direction.

  My stomach growled loud enough to be heard. The prince’s head swiveled to eyeball me.

  I only shrugged. “Your generous accommodations did not include breakfast, Your Highness.”

  He rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting. Was that a glimpse of a smile?

  The space opened into a large receiving hall. Carved wooden doors towered at each opposite side, but only one was opened. It poured into a throne room half the size of Eira’s, but even then, I turned a circle as I walked, secretly admiring the detailed tapestries and brightly colored flags that hung from walls and draped from ceilings. The ancient stone columns and planked floors echoed our steps. The atmosphere of the space was different. Warm, if possible. Even welcoming.

  Confusion tugged at my mind. But where were all the people? The line of peasants seeking their king’s aide, and the sniveling upper elite watching with disdain?

  Scrawling arches decorated the entries, and wooden beams raised the space high into lofty perfection. They all led to the far end of the hall where a magnificent throne, carved in ancient oak sat empty.

  My gaze narrowed. Where was Anolyn’s great king? “What’s going—”

  Footsteps sounded. A man entered wearing nothing but a pair of dirty pants and boots. Perspiration dripped from his lean form. He was only a couple of inches taller than me and skinny, but long muscles corded the length of him. With his skin tanned like a field worker and his black hair a mess, I assumed him to be a servant until he tossed the towel he used to mop his sweat to a nearby attendant. The attendant bowed deeply, taking his things without complaint, and held out a clean replacement, which was ignored.

  The newcomer was followed by a precession of men in military attire, deep in conversation one with another. A woman trailed them, wearing a red gown that plunged in the front. Lustrous black hair flowed to her slender waist. When her black eyes met mine, one corner of her mouth tipped up.

  “You’re late,” Castiel said. His words snapped.

  The half-naked man peered over at us. Familiar blue eyes confirmed the shocking revelation. Castiel was the larger brother, but King Riaan Anouk was a force all his own to be reckoned with.

  “Ah. Finally.” Turning to the line of officers, he waved them away. “Gentlemen, we’re done here.”

  With a bow, they left the room, eyeballing me as they passed. I tried to ignore them the best I could; it wasn’t them that set me on edge.

  Hard like the stone walls surrounding him, the king’s steel gaze watched me—weighed and measured me. Despite my carefully tucked emotions, worry trembled down my rigid spine.

  “And what of this lady?” the woman asked, her voice soft. “Are we done?”

  The king raised one brow to her question, but he didn’t remove his sight from mine. “For now.”

  She curtsied low then left, smiling at Castiel as she passed.

  Was she a mistress? News of any royal nuptials hadn’t reached the kingdom of Eira, and since he hadn’t introduced her, it was rude to ask.

  I stared back at the king of Anolyn, unwilling to appear intimidated.

  A faint smile turned his mouth upward, but there was nothing warm about it. “Do you see something you like?” he asked, his voice crackled and deep.

  Castiel cleared his throat in annoyance, but the king ignored him.

  I looked away, lifting careless brows, and said nothing. His chuckle heated my already enflamed cheeks.

  Riaan smirked. “I think I embarrassed her, Brother.”

  Castiel took the shirt from the servant and shoved it into his hands. “Your Majesty, may I present Lady Anna.”

  The king gingerly took the garment but kept his eyes trained on me. “I shock you, don’t I, Lady Anna? But this is the first lesson you must learn about Anolyn: we all contribute to the prosperity of this great land. Everyone chips in, even the king.”

  I didn’t care to know anything about his country or his ridiculous lessons. I didn’t plan on staying long enough to learn.

  He peered over my shoulder to Castiel. “So, this little girl is the reason for all of the commotion within my home?”

  “It would appear so.”

  I cast my eyes to my hands folded neatly in front of me. If he wanted me to respond, he was choosing the wrong tactic.

  The king signaled with a nod and the grand double doors slammed shut, leaving the three of us alone. He spun on his heel and crossed the room to his throne.

  Castiel sighed and gestured me to follow. I tried to look anywhere but Riaan’s glistening back muscles, hating the improprieties of such an introduction. Johan would have never allowed his public to see him so disheveled as this king was. Even though I held no love for my uncle, disgust at such a foreign display tightened my features.

  Riaan’s voice echoed along with his quick footsteps as he finally tugged his white shirt into place. “Let’s not pretend right now. I don’t have the patience today… or ever. Princess Ilianna, you’ve put me into an interesting situation.”

  An answer slipped past stiff lips without my permission. “I didn’t put anyone in any situation. I only tried to leave.”

  He threw himself into his seat and draped a leg over an armrest. He tipped his head to one side and at that moment I realized just how fresh this king must have been. Probably twenty-four, or -five… so young to be king already, but his father had died about five years before. Which meant he took the throne when he was around nineteen. This realization sent my mind spinning.

  The king’s eyes swept the length of my gown. “As pretty as you are, I don’t see how you tricked one of my best soldiers into helping you escape. And Sameen, for that matter.” I waited for him to ask the question I could never answer, but he moved on without a breath to spare. “It wasn’t what we were expecting, but I guess you can’t prepare for everything.”

  The muscles in my neck twitched. “What?”

  His gaze narrowed; a curious expression wrinkled his features. “Her eyes are strangely distracting, aren’t they Castiel?”

  My gaze snapped to the prince, who nodded. “Indeed.”

  Riaan shook his head as if to rid an unpleasant thought. “Anyways, do you really think my brother happened
to be where he was when he was?” He smiled; his white teeth flashed. “And just in time to save you? I’m so glad to see that my healer was able to work his magic.”

  I shuddered at the word and cursed beneath my breath. The king and prince were even more stealthy that I gave them credit for. I refused to see the situation for what it was, out of what? Hope? Three months in prison had dulled my wits. “Idiot.”

  “I take it you’re not speaking to me that way,” Riaan said. One brow tilted up, in amusement or annoyance I couldn’t tell. “As of right now, I’m more interested in the man that escaped only an hour after your release. My brother said you warned him beforehand that he was dangerous.”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why even bother to warn us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then what do you know?” When I didn’t answer he asked, “What’s his name?”

  I shook my head, irritated at his questions, but more so at myself. Why was I protecting my uncle’s man? If I wanted to escape both this kingdom and Johan, I needed Lucan dead.

  “His name is Lucan Osrick.”

  The king’s voice remained forcefully calm. “The spy and assassin?”

  Of course he would know the name. I bit the inside of my cheek. The metallic taste of my blood combined with my treachery to nauseate me. “Yes.”

  “And you are not a spy, like him?” Riaan cleaned dirt from beneath his nails.

  Dirt beneath a king’s nails. I stared out the window. “No.”

  “Well, that’s nice to hear.” Derision dripped from his words.

  “Brother.” Castiel took a step forward, warning him with a pointed look.

  I glared at them both. “I am not a spy.”

  Riaan sat up in one swift motion. “Then why was this Lucan here, if not aiding your efforts?”

  I swallowed back the angry bile that rose into my throat. I smiled, my voice sickly sweet. “Worthy King, I will answer your questions, or at least the ones I can, on two conditions.”

  Riaan gaped at his brother in surprise, then focused again on me. “Conditions? And you think you’re in a place to demand such things?”

  “Do you want to know about this man? I can offer you more than just his name.”

  His lips twitched. “I will hear your conditions.”

  I straightened, my fingers clenched at my side. “Swear to get to Lucan before he gets to my uncle.”

  The king’s smile stretched wide. “Done. Why was he here in our lands?”

  I shrugged. “I can only assume he followed me when I left.”

  “You ran away?” Castiel asked.

  I only nodded.

  “Why?”

  I twisted toward the prince. The intensity waring in his stormy blue eyes intrigued me, but why did he look at me in such a way? I raised my chin. “Let’s just say that your king was not the only one who rejected my uncle’s proposal of a… union.”

  Was that surprise I saw in his expression?

  Another chuckle sounded from the throne.

  I turned away and continued. “I would not be offered as a bride to my enemy country.”

  “I believe you,” Riaan said.

  Shocked, my attention jerked toward him. The silence dragged to an uncomfortable length as he contemplated me. “Tell me more about this Lucan.”

  “He’s my uncle’s best spy and tracker. I can only assume he was trailing me and recognized the ambush by your men. My guess is that he got himself captured on purpose to keep an eye on me.”

  “You’re lucky it was my men that found you and not something else.” Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. “It would make more sense that Lucan would go back to Johan and tell him where you are.”

  I shook my head. “If he was sent to find me, he won’t go back to my uncle without me. Johan doesn’t tolerate failure.”

  The prince leaned to whisper in his brother’s ear. The blood pumped to my face, but Riaan’s reaction was cold, calculating.

  “Castiel tells me Lucan is the one who stabbed you.”

  “Not to kill me. If that was his goal, I wouldn’t be standing here now. That wound was to slow me down.” And even if I wasn’t sure of it, I would be confident enough that they would believe me.

  His lips twitched at the corners. “Or to stop my brother from coming after him.” Why did I feel there was something behind the statement? Whatever it was, he didn’t elaborate. “Thank you, Princess Ilianna, for being so forthcoming. Our messenger to your uncle has been postponed. All efforts have gone to finding this spy. You’ll have to make due as our honored guest for a bit longer.” A dismissal was coming, but I wasn’t done. Not yet.

  I took a step forward and Riaan homed in on the movement. “You’ll never find him. Not without my help.”

  His gaze turned a steely gray, a warning against my proximity. “Oh?”

  “Which brings me to my next condition.”

  A smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I almost forgot. Please…” He gestured with a lift of his finger. “Do go on.”

  I raised my head higher. “If I help you locate Lucan, you’ll see that I’m safely escorted to port and placed on the first available ship off this continent.”

  Assessment

  My words echoed off the stone walls, then silence. The king didn’t answer, only studied me for a long while. Just when I opened my mouth to say more, he chortled. The gentle lilt of his laugh sunk the half-risen hope that had grown only moments before.

  “This little princess demands a lot in return for her information, doesn’t she, Brother?”

  “Will you grant it to me?” I asked quickly, not wanting to hear Castiel’s response to that question.

  “Do you know what waits across the sea in the kingdoms beyond?” the king asked.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came. No, I didn’t know, but something told me in that instant that I was foolish to even ask. Pride swelled, cutting through that doubt. “Sometimes one must take the risks, even when the outcome is uncertain.”

  He set his jaw on tented fingers and peered down his straight nose. I repressed the desire to squirm beneath his scrutiny.

  “The white flag of peace has been raised, but I do not believe for a moment that your uncle intends to uphold such peace. I know his bloodlust.’

  “That is wise.”

  “And you. You are his niece—the next in line to inherit the kingdom, a rising star in his militia. Would it be wise to trust you or your word?”

  I held my head high. “In times of war, I have fought against your people and have taken many lives, but I have no reason to hurt your people now. My uncle’s battles are no longer my own. Will you meet my conditions?”

  Again, hesitation slowed his response, but finally he slapped the top of his thighs. “Done. Upon your word, you will aid in the discovery of your spy—”

  “My uncle’s spy.”

  “Your uncle’s spy, and upon my word I will personally escort you to Anolyn’s port and with my most expensive bottle of wine christen your journey.”

  I nodded, satisfied. “There are three safehouses from here to my uncle’s kingdom. If he’s hurt, he’ll find medical aid and replenish his food supply, but he will not stay long. You’ll have to get there quickly. I can show you all areas most frequented by my father’s captains as well, but it will be dangerous. The sooner you can capture him, the better.”

  Riaan stood. “Mikael. Melia.”

  From behind columns, two guards stepped from their hiding places. Knives lined thick belts on their matching black leather jerkins. Additional weapons tucked in their black boots. Mikael’s dark eyes found me, holding me in place as he came forward to answer his king’s summons. I stared back, angry.

  “So, you have a secret door into your throne room.”

  “What makes you think they weren’t already there?” Castiel asked, but I didn’t turn to see his expression.

  “They weren’t.” Detection was key to surviva
l. That I had failed to register the entrance the king’s military elite used was worse than a botched-up escape.

  “I see you remember one of my men,” Riaan said, breaking through my thoughts. My face grew hot. “But it’s really the other one you need to worry about.”

  Mikael grunted in annoyance.

  “I think you upset your giant,” I said, earning another glare from him.

  The second guard, the woman, laughed a low chuckle. Blonde hair—much like so many of Eira’s women in fashion—was pulled high into a long, golden ponytail. Pale gray eyes set within an attractive face watched me, more inquisitive than Mikael’s deadly glower.

  “Bring me paper and a map of both Anolyn and Eira,” Riaan said to the first. “Quickly.”

  Mikael ran from the room in a sprint, much faster than I thought the lug could go.

  “And the girls?” The woman’s voice was deeper than I imagined. Alto, rich with an accent I didn’t recognize.

  The king nodded, but it was Castiel that spoke. “Ready my messengers.”

  Melia smiled, her gaze flitting to mine. “They’re already prepared.” She went to the closest window and threw it wide. A second later a piercing, high-pitched shrill fill the air and set my heart racing. A bird call, but unlike anything I had ever heard. She walked smoothly backward, her eyes never leaving the opened window. The king descended, watching with disinterest. Castiel, on the other hand, stood by the woman, his eyes alight.

  No one paid me any attention as I instinctively stepped back.

  A feral cry filled the air, wilder and more terrifying than Melia’s call. A creature of black and white feathers soared into the room. I inhaled sharply, catching more than a glimpse of razor-sharp talons and a deadly beak. It attached itself to the top of the king’s throne and screamed. Riaan cursed aloud, more shocked than afraid, but I nearly tripped over my feet in my haste to escape the largest bird I had ever seen. The beast’s eyes instantly caught the newcomer and, to my terror, regarded me in distaste.

  A second skidded to a deafening halt. A raptor of black and golden plumes, its claws scraped and thudded against the floors.