“Peace?”
“And for the sake of my kingdom, I must see if peace is achievable.”
Weylan smirked. “And you think he’s genuine in his peace treaty?”
The king only shrugged. “We cannot afford another war between Eira and Anolyn. Maybe Johan recognizes this as well, seeing as how he’s offered his niece as a token of that peace.”
Weylan jerked; his eyes flicked to mine. “Ilianna?”
What did he expect me to say? I lifted my head high.
Weylan blanched. “But I thought… Is that why you’re here? Did you accept to act as this… this pawn?”
My jaw clenched. “You dare call me a pawn? And what were you for Johan, if not some pathetic marionette? Who pulls your strings now?”
Weylan crossed his arms over his chest. A scowl darkened the lines of his face, making him appear years older than he was. “The king will not honor this peace. Surely you must know this.”
I did know, but I wouldn’t tell him as much.
“While we are grateful for your assistance, Captain, we must allow this peace treaty to move forward.”
“I am no longer captain to King Johan.” His green eyes searched mine for some understanding I couldn’t give. “He has been scouring the countryside for his niece. What will the king do if he finds out that his princess has been here the whole time?”
“The princess is our guest and under our honorable protection,” King Riaan said.
“Yes, but—”
Riaan spoke over Weylan’s protests. “We do not dabble in family affairs. Princess Ilianna wishes to keep her private relationship with the king of Eira to herself. We wish to keep her identity unknown at this time. She may be revered in your kingdom, but in ours she is feared. For her protection, and until this treaty is seen through, she is Lady Anna. I expect you to keep her identity to yourself.”
Weylan hesitated, but then nodded.
Riaan gestured to Reese, who opened the door to whisper something to an attendant waiting outside.
“I’m famished,” the king said with a smile.
My bones creaked with every step I took to claim my seat between king and prince. Melia took hers across from me and together we sat in awkward silence.
Kitchen attendants brought in steaming plates of food and drink, but with each presented dish, my appetite fled. Weylan’s gaze bored holes into me, but I refused to look up, refused to believe he was anything but the con-artist I knew him to be.
“Ilianna.” I barely managed to keep my seat when Castiel whispered in my ear. “Will you eat?”
“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled.
His fingers touched mine. I whipped my hand away, sending silverware clattering to the ground and stood. Chair legs scraped against the floor and added to the terrible racket.
“She doesn’t like to be touched,” Weylan said low, making the situation worse.
Resentment and anger caused my limbs to shake.
Castiel clenched the arms of his chair in a white-knuckled grip. “Did you have something to do with that?”
Weylan stood. “This is indeed my fault,” he said. “My apologizes for causing such an uproar. Please,” and he indicated with a wave of his hand to the food in front of him. “As splendid as this offer is, Your Majesty, I am weary from my travels and would like to rest. Would you excuse me?”
“Of course.” The king nodded to Reese, who quickly escorted Weylan from the room.
I stared at the closed door, lacking the courage to look the others in the eyes. “I do not trust him.”
Castiel said, “We’ve placed him here tonight, but under heavy guard. He should be gone by the morning.”
My place at the table was reset, everything back in order as it should have been. Castiel nodded to my seat and I took it without further encouragement.
Melia reached across to pat my hand. “Maybe I’ll take him to the training yard with me tomorrow.”
I bristled. “Only if you use him as target practice.” The training yard was mine.
She smiled. “That can be arranged.”
Later that evening, I paced for hours before a dimming fire in a thin nightgown. The silky material felt strange against my skin. A wide-scooped neckline exposed my neck and collar bones. Sameen had warned it was getting closer to the summer months and that Meyrion was well insulated against any remaining chill, but for me it was almost too warm at night.
It was hours past midnight before I slid into bed. Reese was outside my door as usual, my ever-constant guard. Although his presence soothed, I did not feel safe. Weylan was a threat, worse than Lucan because of his craftiness and manipulations. He had fooled me once. Never again.
I pulled the bedsheets to my chin and closed my eyes, but sleep evaded me. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. My mind fought against a sleep that drained any lucid thought, leaving me with a muddle of complex emotions. They crept through the chinks of my mental barrier I had so carefully formed with Weylan.
Fear, regret, hopelessness… these weaknesses threatened to overwhelm me until something far stronger took their place. My mind seized upon a thought, an entity even more chilling than the treacherous captain.
The wraith Cy.
My heart rate quickened. Dread bloomed and with it, a terrible knowledge. There was something in the room with me.
I tried to wake, to move, but as in the dungeons, an evil presence kept me from stirring.
I focused on the space around me. The threat only watched my struggle—watched and waited. I commanded my fingers to move, then my hand, until the muscles of my body were once again under my control.
I opened my eyes.
Red eyes stared back, so close that I could see the dark rims of the irises. I lurched from the bed in a mad tumble of limbs and sheets. Terror squeezed the air painfully from my lungs and silenced my scream. I fell to the ground and scuttled backward until my spine knocked against the stone fireplace.
The wraith, Cy, watched me, unmoved. I prayed that this was just a dream, that my over-excited mind played yet another trick on me. I couldn’t even blink to rid the sleep from my eyes.
A knock sounded.
“Lady Anna? Are you alright?” Reese’s voice brought some sense of reality.
There was a wraith in my room. A wraith who hadn’t killed me in my sleep when he could have. A wraith who hadn’t moved an inch since waking me. A wraith who now held a finger to his lips to plead my silence.
My voice returned with a squeak. “I—” But why would a wraith plead for anything? They were the spawn of hell. They murdered without thought. Destroyed without remorse.
Then why—?
Reese’s voice echoed louder inside my addled brain. “Lady Anna?” The knob to my room twisted.
“I’m alright,” I said, leaping to my feet. I ran and seized the handle. Light entered through the slit in the door. Heat emanated from the torch Reese held. My eyes braved a glance at my guard. “I’m alright,” I repeated weakly. “Forgive me, Lieutenant. Sleep fights me this evening. I may have fallen from my bed as a result of a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?”
His eyes dropped to my nightgown that had slipped off one shoulder and then quickly away. I pulled it in place and breathed a nervous laugh. “Foolish, I know. Forgive me for disturbing you.”
He nodded, still perplexed, but let the subject drop. I shut the door with a resolute click, sealing the wraith inside with me.
I spun, my hands cold and slick against the wood of the door. Sweat dripped from my forehead. Cy watched me as a carved statue, all expression vacant. And yet he was full to the brim with information. Information I needed. He either had a purpose in being here… or I was a bigger fool than I thought.
Owning my decision, I straightened and forced my legs to move. The fire Sameen had left me with had reduced to a few glowing embers. I squatted low to place a log on the hearth.
“Please, don’t.” His voice was less than a whisper, yet it rattl
ed me to the bones.
“But I can barely see you.”
“Your eyes will adjust. I’d rather not draw any more unneeded attention.”
“You mean you’d rather keep me in the dark and afraid.”
“I did not mean to frighten you. A compromise, perhaps? One log?”
I set a single log to the dying embers and waited for the fire to bloom and my sight to adjust.
“Why are you here?” I asked, speaking low so as not to be heard. My voice sounded much braver than I felt. “Are you here to kill me?”
Cy chuckled, the sound reverberating from the empty places in my chest. The light from the flames danced shadows on his pale skin. Light brown hair grew ragged to his chin.
“I am a guest in this house, and as such, I cannot kill you. Besides, if I wanted you dead, don’t you think I would’ve taken that opportunity before?”
“Like you did with Lucan’s men?”
A smile drew up one side of his mouth. “They killed themselves.”
“But their bodies… How is that possible?”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, his voice an eerie whisper.
A shiver traveled up my spine. “No. Then why didn’t you kill me?”
“I thought about it.” His brows pinched together as if contemplating the possibility yet again. “You are fascinating to watch. As beautiful as you are awake, you’re an unsightly sleeper.”
I straightened, lifting my head high. He mirrored me, standing erect. He would have towered over me had we stood any closer.
“What do you want, except to ruin any chance at rest?”
“You put on a good show, but you’re just a frightened child. Shall we sit?” He indicated the pair of chairs. His finger trailed the length of my bed as he moved closer.
I jolted to keep the distance between us. “I don’t intend to continue this conversation. You should leave. Now.”
His gaze traveled the single tapestry that decorated my room, although how he could see any detail I didn’t know. “I can choose who I want to see me. I can disappear entirely. But two times you have seen through my guise. Even when you sleep, my presence affects you. How are you so aware of me?”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been in my room, is it?”
His blood-red eyes rolled to meet mine; a smile stretched across his face. “As a matter of fact, no. I was curious when they brought you back. I had to see you myself.”
“See me, for what?”
He sank into the chair but did not answer. One brow raised high as he waited for me to join him. I ignored the warning from within and pulled the second chair several feet away before sitting across from the wraith.
Cy smiled. “Why do you fight against your uncle? Why did you fight what he needed you to become?”
“A magician?”
He cocked his head to the side to examine me. “A magician. An army. And more. He is all you know. The only family to call you their own, and yet you disown him?”
My neck stiffened against the hurt that came. I repeated the very words Melia had spoken that night. “Johan is evil.” Saying it aloud solidified that knowledge greater than ever before.
“All men are evil.”
I shook my head. “No, they’re not.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Anolyn’s royal brothers seem to be ridiculously valiant. You’re not evil and yet, by every account, you should be.”
“Why do you say that?”
He rested his cheek against his hand. “Because it’s true. Fear controls the king of Eira. He looks to you as a savior.”
Morning Visitor
Shock and anger colored my words. “My uncle looks to me for someone to release his pent-up frustration.”
“That’s partly true. What do you know about the Wraith Queen?”
I flinched at the jolting shift in conversation. “The Wraith Queen is evil incarnate.”
He bowed, his lips a mocking smile. “Besides the incredibly obvious.”
“We do not speak of her out of respect for those who lost their lives.”
“Keeping you in ignorance. Your uncle fears the beast. Do you know why?”
“He would be foolish not to. But what makes you think you know what my uncle fears?”
“I told you before, I know because of what his men knew. What Lucan knew—or as much as I could gather. You didn’t let me get too far with him.”
My insides shuddered.
“What would you say if I told you Johan had good reason to fear her?” he asked.
“That would be obvious.”
“Would it? Do you know anything else about the Wraith Queen?”
“Only rumor. Almost two hundred years ago, she came to power. She took an entire kingdom hostage in her greed, then conquered others to satisfy her bloodlust.”
He tipped his head back, rolling his neck side to side. “It’s amazing what mortals derive. She’s taken several kingdoms hostage, and she will never stop until she’s destroyed. She’s cursed, did you know?”
I didn’t, but I remained quiet.
“The Wraith Queen’s tale is quite remarkable.” His gaze narrowed. “I assume since you’re not in prison, the good King Riaan has decided not to kill you?”
My brows creased my forehead at yet another shift in conversation. “No thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome. Will you be trained or sent back to Johan?”
“How do you know that?”
He smirked. “Obvious. You’re a rogue magician. It’s the only solution to the problem you present.”
The truth hit me like a stack of brick. I was the problem.
“Stop wallowing,” the wraith said, as if he could read my very thoughts. “If I were you, I’d let the prince train me. He’s strong. You’ll need to be to face the future coming to you.”
“And why do you think you know what’s coming?”
“The Wraith Queen left something behind that she’s not likely to forget. Also, like Anolyn’s good king and prince, I pay attention to the signs.” His eyes shifted to my door, and a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Speak of the devil.”
I swiveled that direction, but Cy’s voice drew me back. “Like the Wraith Queen herself, you are cursed, Princess Ilianna.”
I flinched but suppressed my shock. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You need to find me. We have much to speak about.”
And then he was gone. The energy that came with the wraith pulled away, almost painfully. Ice trailed my spine, leaving me more afraid than when Cy was there—a belated reaction from his presence. I ejected from my seat, my breath caught in my throat, and spun in a full circle, searching for any sign of him. Panic welled.
From beyond my room, a recognizable voice commanded entrance, and my heart leaped within my chest. A second later, the door was flung wide and Castiel entered wearing nothing more than his breeches and a thin opened robe that exposed a chest that heaved laden breaths. The light of the fire glinted from two long daggers held in each hand.
I inhaled sharply, stepping toward my fire. “What is the meaning of this?” My voice cracked, thwarting the outrage that should have reigned. Really, I was relieved.
Reese had followed his prince and immediately did a scan of my apartment, even checking beneath the bed.
Castiel’s eyes shifted to the darkened corners of my room; however, I knew, could sense, the wraith had disappeared completely. Words almost visible parted the prince’s full lips. His gaze fixed on the place where my gown had slipped from my shoulder again, but I did not move to correct it.
“Why are you here?” I asked and was still ignored.
The guard finished his inspection and nodded. Castiel twirled the daggers in his hand, then handed them off to Reese. “Leave us,” he said, but I noticed my guard left the door cracked after exiting. His hulking form stood just beyond the threshold.
Castiel watched me. Low firelight glowed warmly from the roughene
d lines of his rugged face and muscled neck. His opened robe did little to conceal a tanned chest and stomach sculpted from years of arduous training. A scar, a thick line from a stab wound, caught my attention. It marred the left side of his abdomen, just below the ribcage.
My heart accelerated, beating almost painfully. A tremor racked my body and he caught the reaction.
His eyes narrowed. “Please,” he said, indicating for me to sit. When I did not move, he grabbed the back of my chair and slid it closer to the fire. Worry set in his expression. “You are shivering. Are you cold?”
“Of course not. I’m only shocked. What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
His grip tightened on the back of the seat. “I told you there would be inspections of your room.”
“At this time of night?”
“It’s morning, my lady, and it’s whenever I please,” he snapped, but then he sighed and wiped a tired hand down his face. “Lieutenant Reese worried you were under duress.”
I huffed. “I told him it was only a bad dream. I—” I swallowed against the lie that tightened the muscles of my throat. “I’m sorry he woke you for nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if you are truly distressed.” Silence enveloped the space between us.
Heat crawled to my cheeks. I was distressed, but it was a combination of so many things that it was hard to choose which was the worst. Was it the shirtless prince standing in my bed chambers? Was it the wraith that had been there only seconds before? Or was it the scheming Weylan?
The last thought squeezed my chest.
It was definitely Weylan.
My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why would it matter to you?”
Weylan would have given me soft-spoken promises of hope through eyes the color of spring, but Castiel only blinked. The muscles in his face tightened as he regarded me curiously. Why did he have to look at me the way he did?
“What is it that distresses you, Princess? Is this because of my brother? That you must be trained by me because—
“It’s not going to work,” I said in a rush of words. “I told you, I’m not a magician.”
A smile touched the corner of his lips. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are.”
Of Blood and Deceit Page 11