Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1)

by Melanie Cellier

  Jareth managed the tiniest of answering smiles, but his attention was focused just as intensely on me as Darius was.

  I took a steadying breath. “So you’re not talking about an immediate coup. You want to know if Ardann will…what? Directly support a coup? With troops? Or just acknowledge your claim once you’re on the throne? What exactly do you want me to take to my aunt?”

  Darius shook his head. “No troops. My hope and intention is that this will be bloodless. My father has been promising for years that he will step aside when I reach full maturity, but I know he has no actual intention of doing so. I merely intend to…force his hand.”

  He smiled grimly, the danger back in his eyes.

  “I won’t bore you with the details of how that might be achieved, but it is a goal I have been working toward for some time. And I do not intend to be a puppet for my grandfather any more than I intend to be a puppet for my father. Kallorway has been divided long enough. I will be the king who unites us again.”

  His eyes bored in to me. “Ardann played its part in dividing us, and I can understand their reasons for doing so. But it is a new era now, and a new king will sit on Kallorway’s throne. I want to know if your aunt really means the pretty words she sends through you. Is she ready to see a healed and strong Kallorway? Will she support me if I make it so? Or will she support my enemies, and seek to keep us weak and divided?”

  I swallowed. Darius said he had been working toward this plan for some time. And yet no hint of it had reached any of our diplomats and intelligencers. He had perfected his cold mask and his act of careful neutrality. But he trusted me enough to tell me the truth and lay it all out before me.

  I struggled to take in what such trust meant from someone like Darius who trusted almost no one.

  “I believe she means it, yes,” I said slowly. “And I will do all I can to convince her that when you sit on the throne in Kallmon, you will mean Ardann no harm.”

  His eyes burned with an almost feverish light, a small smile playing around his eyes. “I have every intention of doing all I can to make that message very clear.”

  Jareth stirred uncomfortably, but we both ignored him.

  “Your father’s promises will help your case,” I said, speaking slowly as I rolled the issues around in my mind. “Especially if you can force him to follow through with them without bloodshed. It will be an abdication, not a coup. But what of your grandfather?”

  With great willpower I prevented myself from looking in Jareth’s direction.

  “Once I sit on the throne, I will make it clear to him who rules,” Darius said, his voice grim.

  I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. “There are some who believe he would do almost anything to see someone loyal to him upon the throne.”

  “My grandfather will have to learn that loyalty goes both ways. If he cannot swear loyalty to his king, then he will face the consequences of such treason.”

  Fear filled me, but I forced myself to nod calmly.

  “I will take your message to my aunt, and I will plead your case. And when I return next year, I will do what I can to help you.”

  A hard smile swept across Darius’s face, doing nothing to give him the soft edge that I loved best on him.

  “I will not fail Ardann’s trust.” His eyes caught mine. “Or yours.”

  Jareth stood and began to pace around the room. “It’s a dangerous road, brother.”

  “We’re not having that conversation again,” Darius said sharply. “It is finished.”

  Jareth ground his teeth together audibly, crossing over to my desk and flipping through the pile of blank parchments he found there, as if he couldn’t make himself be still.

  “Older and wiser heads than yours have failed at the task you set yourself.”

  “Then it is good I do not face this path alone,” Darius replied, but he was watching me not his brother.

  Jareth glanced over his shoulder at us, and something frighteningly like rage twisted his features. I drew back, my pulse racing.

  But he looked back down at the desk, and I wondered if I had imagined the fiendish expression. It didn’t fit his usual friendly mask. Was I just imagining his face reflecting what I feared lurked inside? His grandfather wanted me gone…did he have a willing puppet in his one dutiful grandson?

  “We should be going,” Jareth said.

  “You can go.” Again Darius spoke to his brother without taking his focus from me.

  “Darius.” Jareth crossed over to stand near him. “Brother.”

  “I said, you can go.” Darius’s voice was low, the edge clear.

  Jareth set his lips together, spun on his heel and marched from the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

  “Darius.” My eyes lingered on the fluttering tapestry.

  I tried to think how to raise my concerns. How did you tell someone you thought their brother might be involved in a conspiracy against them? But when I looked back at Darius, his expression drove all thought of Jareth from my mind. My breath caught in my throat.

  “Verene.”

  He stood, and I stood with him, drawn toward him by a force I couldn’t control.

  “I should have trusted you sooner,” he murmured, his voice strangely thick. “But trust is a rare and dangerous commodity in my world.”

  “I understand.” My voice was hardly more than a breath.

  “Of course you do,” he said. “Just like I should have known you would.”

  He took the final step to bring us together, our faces a breath apart as they had been so often before. But this time he didn’t stop. His arms wrapped around me, as strong and sure as they had been when they carried me to safety.

  He paused for a moment, his eyes burning down into mine, no sign of the ice that so often entrapped them. But I could take the pressure and the waiting no more. I reached up and gripped his silken hair, pulling his face down toward me as I pushed up to meet him.

  His lips crushed against mine, his arms tightening around me and lifting me off my feet. The fire I had glimpsed in him from our first interaction in this room engulfed me, burning away everything that had stood between us for so long.

  I gripped him more tightly, desperate for this moment to never end.

  When he did at last pull away, lowering me back onto my own feet, both of us were gasping for air.

  “Verene.” His hands dug into my hair, and for a moment I thought he meant to pull me in for another kiss.

  I leaned toward him, but he just held me there, his eyes devouring my face.

  “Darius,” I said, gripped suddenly by terrible fear. I grasped the front of his robe, shaking it in urgency. “I’m afraid for you.”

  “I don’t want you to waste your fear on me,” he said gently. “I have strength enough for this. Especially with your support.”

  I shook my head. “No, I mean your brother.”

  “Jareth?” He pulled back slightly, although he didn’t let go of me. “He’s the only one I can truly trust in all this. Ever since we were the smallest children, we’ve only had each other. Don’t let his outburst just then put you off. He’s just scared for me too. Without each other, we would be alone with our family—and neither of us wants that.”

  “But I’ve heard your grandfather favors him,” I said. “Is that true?”

  This time Darius did let his hands drop, pulling back to frown at me. My own arms dropped to my sides.

  “What is this? Who has been in your ear?”

  “But is it true?” I asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s true enough he’s always had a preference for Jareth. Many people do. I’m quite used to it, I promise you. Jareth has the advantage of being free from the weight of political pressure that rests on everything I do.”

  “But if your grandfather believes Jareth is loyal to him and you are not, don’t you think it’s possible he might—”

  “Try to put Jareth on the throne?” Darius barked a laugh. “He would f
ind himself in trouble with such a plan. Jareth wants the throne even less than I do—he hasn’t been raised with the weight of responsibility that makes me put my own wishes aside. Grandfather would have no luck in that direction.”

  “But are you sure?” I asked. “Jareth didn’t seem at all happy about you seeking an alliance with my aunt.”

  “He doesn’t know you like I do,” Darius said. “He thinks it’s too early to trust you.”

  “Or maybe he thinks that with Ardann behind you, he’ll have more trouble taking the throne himself.”

  Darius frowned. “Next thing you’ll be accusing Jareth of being the one to attack you!”

  “Is it so impossible?” I shot back, swept up in my fear and frustration that he was brushing my concerns aside so thoughtlessly. “He was late to the meal my first night here. Maybe he was busy leaving me a message—at your grandfather’s behest. And I saw them talking together at my ball. Perhaps they didn’t like seeing how warmly your father’s allies greeted me and decided to step up the attacks. The general once had an alliance—of sorts—with my family. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea that you might form one of your own.”

  “Enough,” Darius said, his voice harsh. “My brother is not trying to steal my throne, and he’s certainly not going to kill you to try to achieve such an end. This is fanciful nonsense.”

  “But how can you be sure?” I asked, hating the pleading note in my voice, but desperate for him to consider the possibility.

  “Oh Verene.” Darius sighed. “Because I know him, almost as well as I know myself. My brother would never betray me. I understand that betrayal between brothers is a tale as old as time, but you haven’t lived at the Kallorwegian court. The place is a pit of vipers, and Jareth and I have both always hated it. My brother takes every opportunity he can to escape. He has no desire to tie himself there forever.”

  I frowned, thinking of Dellion’s words about Jareth loving their grandfather’s southern estate, and even of his participation in the delegation to the Sekali Empire. It was possible I had misinterpreted his actions.

  “You know what it’s like to be royal and separated from everyone else around you,” Darius continued. “We have only our family who we can be our true selves with. And for Jareth and me, we have only each other. We are all we have ever had. I am sure that without Jareth by my side I would not have survived my childhood—not sane at least. He has always been there to bolster me whenever the burdens got too great. My brother has only ever lifted me up.”

  “But his smiles don’t reach his eyes,” I whispered, unsure how else to enunciate the uncomfortable feeling he gave me.

  Darius gave a pained smile at that. “All of us born royal wear masks, Verene. I wear one of impassive ice, Jareth wears one of friendly joviality. It’s a less common choice, but it has served us both well enough. You can’t blame him for doing the same thing the rest of us do and keeping his true self hidden from prying eyes.”

  He lifted a hand and rested it gently against my cheek. “It eats me up inside that there is someone here who would dare to raise a hand against you. Every day they go undiscovered makes me rage inside. But it is not my family that seeks to harm you. I mean to keep my promise. I will find whoever tried to kill you. And then you’ll see.”

  “I just want you to be safe,” I said in a small voice.

  “As does Jareth,” he said. “You two are not so dissimilar, you know.”

  I stiffened at that, and he shook his head.

  “One day you’ll see.” His hand dropped from my cheek. “Goodnight, Verene.”

  “Goodnight, Darius,” I whispered back.

  Chapter 27

  Bryony took one look at my face and knew not to ask any questions. It was only as I was slipping into bed that memories of my new ability resurfaced. Somehow, with everything else to distract me, I hadn’t told Darius about my discovery.

  I would find a chance to tell him tomorrow, and then we could celebrate together. I knew how pleased he would be for me.

  He had kissed me, not declared his undying love, but I couldn’t help the dreams that filled my mind. I had told my aunt I would do everything I could to secure an alliance with Kallorway, and there was one time-honored method of binding two kingdoms together. If Darius could win himself the throne with Ardann’s support, perhaps my aunt might suggest a marriage alliance to seal our new unity. I knew my parents would let me go once they understood what Darius was really like.

  It was a pleasant dream, one filled with more burning kisses and a lifetime of his strong arms around me and his support at my side. But eventually an insidious voice in my mind reminded me that marrying Darius would mean becoming queen of Kallorway.

  I had seen his eyes burn for me, but I had also seen the inferno inside him when he spoke of taking the throne and unifying his people, of making them strong again. I had just decided that I couldn’t be a tool for my aunt, my feelings motivated in part by the new life I had built here this year. This Academy, and Darius, and Bryony—an energy mage from the Sekali Empire—had become a second home and family to me. I couldn’t dedicate myself to Ardann and risk being turned against them. But could I dedicate myself to Darius and risk being turned against my family?

  Bryony’s words from earlier haunted me. My ability might make me the one tool that could balance my mother’s power. Bryony had said how valuable that would be to the king of Kallorway, although she had been thinking of Cassius. But the same was true of Darius. Could I hand myself and my powers—whatever they might be—to him so blindly?

  He said he trusted me, and I trusted him. But the throne changed people. It required something from them that none of the rest of us could understand.

  My dreams turned to ash, crumbling around me. I couldn’t tell Darius the truth of my abilities. I couldn’t bear to give him that temptation and see it change him toward me.

  I had dreamed of proving myself powerful and useful, and now I was more powerful than I had ever imagined. And my aunt had sent me here to find out the truth behind Darius’s mask, and he had just willingly handed me all the answers I sought.

  And yet none of it brought me any joy or satisfaction. None of it was enough anymore. Darius was no longer just a tool to me, a means to help my kingdom. It wasn’t enough to discover his intentions and use them for Ardann’s gain. I wanted to see him succeed—I wanted to see him heal his own kingdom. And if I was honest with myself, I wanted to be at his side while he did it.

  But the very power I had dreamed of possessing for so long now stood in my way. What good was great power if it didn’t allow me to be useful? And yet my loyalties had become so twisted and confused that I could no longer blindly devote myself to proving my value to Ardann.

  I could see only one way forward. I would take Darius’s request to my aunt and plead his case as I had promised. But I would make no mention of myself or my own complicated feelings toward the prince. And I would keep my new abilities secret from everyone, as Bryony had advised.

  Next year I would return to the Academy and continue working to uncover the extent of my power. Perhaps once I truly understood myself, I would have a better chance of knowing what good my power could do in the complicated balance of politics between Ardann and Kallorway—and the even more complicated balance of everyone who had a place in my heart.

  It was a long night, but my pillow kept quiet about any tears I entrusted to it.

  I attended classes the next day and tried to think about exams, but every time my eyes fell on either Jareth or Darius, my stomach tightened into knots that twisted and turned. I spent the whole evening in tense anticipation of a knock on the hidden door, but none came. And when I fell into bed that night, I couldn’t decide if I was disappointed or relieved.

  My dreams were deep and dark and suffocating. But something in me rose up, fighting against them, thrashing and kicking until I swam back to consciousness. And yet, when I left my dreams, my eyes opening, my breath didn’t return.

  I wa
s suffocating in truth. Someone held a wad of material over my nose and mouth with a firm grip.

  I bucked and writhed, my hands clawing out across the bed until one of them found what it was searching for. Ever since my attack, despite the compositions on my bedroom door, I had slept with my naked sword hidden beneath the edge of my bedcovers. I thanked that foresight now and swung the blade blindly in the dark.

  A male voice cursed, and the pressure lifted from my nose and mouth. I gasped and gasped again, continuing to wave the sword frantically through the air above me.

  As soon as my breathing calmed, I scrambled from the bed, nearly catching myself in the covers and tumbling to the floor. But I steadied myself in time, landing on my feet and racing to rip the curtains from across the windows. Moonlight flooded into the room, revealing a man dressed in black from head to toe, a length of material wrapped around most of his face.

  “Who are you?” I snapped, ready now with my sword held steadily in front of me.

  He replied with another long string of curses. A shallow cut along one of his arms bled sluggishly.

  I tried to edge around him toward the door, but he stayed stubbornly in place, blocking my access to it. I lunged at him, but a parchment had appeared in his hand, and he was already ripping it.

  Power raced toward me, hitting me with force, and trying to rip the breath from my lungs for a second time. But my body fought it, my hand releasing my sword as I dropped to my hands and knees. The body always fought against death compositions, a natural defensive mechanism that required significant power to overcome.

  But the assassin’s composition was strong, and it fought back, my throat starting to close. I gritted my teeth.

  “I control you,” I managed to rasp out, and a new awareness flooded my brain, although I couldn’t have explained where it came from.