Protect the Prince (A Crown of Shards Novel) Page 25

  Frustration filled me. I already knew all of that, and I didn’t need another history lesson about my own kingdom. “That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it. Maeven specifically wanted to destroy the Winter line of the Blair family. Why not the Summers, who were considered to be more powerful? What does Maeven know about my family—about my magic—that I don’t?”

  Alvis opened his mouth, as though he was finally going to give me some answers, but then a soft sigh escaped his lips, and he shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. You have to discover it for yourself, Evie.”

  “Discover what?” I asked, a pleading note creeping into my voice. “Why won’t you just tell me? I need to know before Maeven and her Bastard Brigade try to kill me again.”

  Alvis’s lips pressed together, and the scent of his garlic guilt filled the air. He really did want to tell me, but something was stopping him. After several long seconds, he shook his head again. Disappointment filled me, along with more than a little anger.

  Why wouldn’t he just fucking tell me?

  I drew in a breath to demand some answers, but Alvis slid off his stool and grabbed a black velvet tray off a table against the wall.

  “Here.” He came back over and set down the tray beside me. “Maybe this will help.”

  A bracelet rested on the black velvet. I blinked at the familiar design. Pieces of silver twisted together to resemble sharp thorns, all of which wrapped around and protected the design in the center—a crown made of seven shards of midnight-blue tearstone.

  This wasn’t just any bracelet—it was identical to the one I was already wearing on my right wrist, including the protective magic pulsing through the tearstone shards.

  “May I?” Alvis asked in a soft voice.

  I nodded, pushed up my sleeve, and held out my left arm. He picked up the bracelet, gently slid it onto my wrist, and carefully hooked the clasp together.

  I stared at the new bracelet on my left wrist, then the matching one on my right wrist, and I realized that they weren’t really bracelets at all.

  “Gauntlets?” I asked. “For what?”

  “Gemma isn’t the only one who needs protecting,” Alvis murmured. “Or help with her magic.”

  He smiled, but worry darkened his hazel eyes. Once again, I got the sense he knew something that I didn’t—

  The workshop door burst open, and Captain Rhea strode inside, followed by two guards.

  I slid off my stool and dropped my hand to my sword. Across the room, Paloma quit petting Grimley and got to her feet, her hand falling down to her mace.

  But Alvis wasn’t intimidated by the captain’s sudden appearance, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “How many times have I told you to knock before you come in?”

  To my surprise, Rhea rolled her eyes, and a teasing grin crept over her face. “Yes, yes, I know. I ruined your concentration yet again. According to you, I excel at it.”

  To my even greater surprise, Alvis smiled back at her. I frowned. Were they . . . friends?

  “Rhea!” Gemma called out in a happy voice, charged over, and hugged the captain around the waist, just like she’d done to me earlier.

  “Hey, kid.” Rhea ruffled the girl’s hair. “We’re still on for sword training later, right? You can’t spend all your time cooped up in this dusty old workshop.”

  “My workshop is not dusty,” Alvis grumbled, although they didn’t pay any attention to him.

  “Right!” Gemma said. “See you then!”

  She skipped back over to Grimley, and Rhea watched her go with a smile. I drew in a breath. The scent of the captain’s rosy love for the girl flooded the workshop. She cared about Gemma just as much as she did Dominic.

  Rhea must have sensed my curious gaze, because she glanced in my direction. The longer she looked at me, the quicker her happiness melted away. In seconds, she had transformed back into a stern, imposing captain. Still, she didn’t seem nearly as angry and hostile as she had yesterday, and she tipped her head to me.

  “Queen Everleigh. The king would like to see you.” Even her voice was polite, if a bit cool.

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t say,” Rhea said. “He just sent me to get you.”

  I drew in another breath, but I didn’t sense any smoky lie in her words. I glanced over at Paloma, who shook her head in warning, but I wanted to know why Heinrich had summoned me. Besides, he was the king, and this was his palace. It wasn’t like I could say no.

  “Very well.” I walked over to the captain.

  Paloma started to join me, but Rhea held out her hand, stopping her.

  “The king requested that Queen Everleigh come alone,” she said.

  Paloma looked at me again, but I nodded, telling her that it was okay.

  “Fine,” she muttered, then stabbed her finger at me. “But don’t you dare get into trouble. It’s not even lunchtime yet.”

  I grinned and snapped off a cheeky salute. “I can make no such promises.”

  Paloma gave me a sour look, as did the ogre on her neck, before turning to Rhea. “And you better protect her the same way you would your own king. Because if anything happens to Evie, then rest assured that you are the very first person I’m going to come looking for, along with your men.”

  The two guards paled and sidled away, but Rhea held her ground. She looked at Paloma a moment, then at the ogre on her neck.

  “Understood,” the captain said. “I look forward to that meeting, should it ever occur.”

  The two women stared at each other for another moment before Rhea turned back to me. “Queen Everleigh, if you will come with me.”

  She stepped into the hallway, and I followed the captain out of the workshop.

  * * *

  Rhea led the way, with me walking behind her and the two guards trailing after me. Together, the four of us headed downstairs to the first floor.

  Rhea stopped and looked at her men. “You two, resume your previous posts. I will escort Queen Everleigh from here.”

  The men nodded and set off in the opposite direction. I was surprised she’d sent away the guards, so I drew in another breath, but she smelled only of garlic guilt instead of the smoky lie I would expect if this was a trap.

  Rhea gestured at me, and I fell in step beside her.

  As we walked along, I realized that the captain had been busy overnight. Many more guards were patrolling through the palace than had been here yesterday. Then again, the crown prince and a visiting queen had almost been killed last night. Of course there would be more guards today.

  Rhea kept glancing at me and opening and closing her mouth, as though she wanted to say something. We rounded a corner and stepped into a hallway that was free of guards, and she finally worked up the nerve.

  She stopped and held out her hand, and I faced her.

  “I am truly sorry about last night,” she said. “I don’t know how those assassins got into the palace, but I will find out. And if I discover that one of my men, or anyone else here, helped them, then that person will wish that they had killed me instead of trying to kill you and Dominic.”

  I drew in a breath, tasting her scent, but she smelled so strongly of lime truthfulness that the citrusy aroma burned my nose. Rhea might not like me, but she hadn’t had anything to do with the assassination attempt. I had doubted she would put Dominic in danger like that, given her feelings for him, but it was still nice to know that she wasn’t working with the Mortans.

  “I understand,” I said. “And I am also truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to bring my troubles to Glitnir, and I never meant to put anyone in danger.”

  She nodded and started forward, but this time I held out my hand, stopping her.

  “I am also very sorry about Lord Hans. My own father was murdered, so I know how painful it is to lose a parent that way. Your father’s death haunts me, as do the deaths of Prince Frederich and everyone else who was killed at Seven Spire.”

  Rhea’s topaz eyes searc
hed mine. After several long seconds, she nodded again, accepting my apology, and some of the tension between us eased.

  “I was wrong about you, and I apologize for that.” She grimaced. “And for challenging you in the throne room. That was foolish and insulting, especially since you are the king’s guest.”

  “It didn’t seem foolish when you were about to take my head off with your sword,” I drawled.

  She smiled a little at my black humor. “Well, I certainly felt foolish when you were about to cut my throat.”

  I held my hand out to her. “How about we both agree not to do such foolish things from now on?”

  Rhea seem surprised by the gesture, but she reached out and clasped my hand. “Agreed.”

  She dropped my hand, and we walked on, our silence far more comfortable and companionable than before.

  Eventually, we stepped into a familiar-looking hallway, and I finally realized where we were going—the library where the assassination attempt had taken place.

  We had almost reached the entrance when Dominic and Sullivan strode out of the open doors. The two princes stopped, clearly surprised, but they walked over to us.

  Dominic looked at Rhea, while I stared at Sullivan. An awkward silence fell over the four of us, and no one seemed to know what to say.

  Dominic turned toward me. “Everleigh, you’re looking well this morning.”

  “As are you,” I replied. “No ill effects from last night?”

  He flashed me a smile. “None. And yourself?”

  “None, thanks to your brother.”

  We both looked at Sullivan, who shifted on his feet.

  Dominic smiled, reached out, and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. “Lucas has always been better with his magic than me. See? This is why you need to come home more often. So you can save me from dangerous assassins.”

  The crown prince let out a hearty laugh, but we could all hear the tension in his voice. Dominic dropped his hand from his brother’s shoulder. He smiled at me again, but his gaze didn’t quite meet mine.

  “My father is eager to see how you’re doing. Good day, Everleigh.”

  “Good day,” I murmured.

  Still not quite looking at me, Dominic smiled again, then strode off in the opposite direction. Sullivan nodded, although he didn’t quite look at me either. Then he turned and followed his brother down the hallway and around the corner, out of sight.

  Rhea was still standing beside me, and the scent of her ashy heartbreak wafted over me.

  “I’m sorry about Dominic too,” I said.

  “I know,” she replied in a sad voice. “But it’s not your fault. I always knew that Dominic would marry someone else. Just like Lucas knows that you’ll marry someone else. Besides, if Dominic winds up with you, then at least I know that you’ll protect him, and Gemma too.”

  “That’s not much to take comfort in,” I pointed out.

  “It’s all I have,” she murmured.

  Rhea shook her head, as if clearing away her morose thoughts, then let out a low, bitter laugh. “Sometimes I think that if we all just loved who we wanted to, and married who we wanted to, life would be so much easier, so much simpler. But I suppose they call it duty for a reason.”

  She gave me a grim, humorless smile, then stepped into the library. I followed her.

  I had expected a whole legion of guards to be stationed in here, but the enormous room was empty, except for a few servants who were laying out a tea set on a low table in front of the fireplace, along with trays of fresh fruit, crackers, cheeses, and sweet cakes.

  All traces of last night’s assassination attempt had vanished. The blood and bodies had been removed, the scorched books, rugs, and other furniture had been replaced, and even the glass wall where Dominic had cracked his head had been repaired. It was like the attack had never even happened.

  King Heinrich was sitting in a plush chair, staring into the crackling flames as if they held the answers to all his worries. He was dressed in a fine gray tunic, but the garment seemed loose and baggy on his frame, and the large chair almost looked like a black velvet gargoyle that was slowly swallowing him whole.

  His blue eyes were dimmer, and his face was much paler than it had been at dinner last night. He wasn’t wearing a crown, and bits of gray glinted all over his head, as though his hair was made of shards of glass.

  The marked change startled me. It was as if the king had suddenly aged a decade overnight. Then again, almost losing a second son to an assassination plot tended to weigh heavy on the heart.

  Heinrich looked up at the snap of our boots on the floor. He nodded at Rhea, then waved me over to the chair next to his. Once the servants had finished laying out the refreshments, I sat down.

  Rhea shooed away the servants, bowed to us both, and left. A soft snick sounded as she closed the doors behind her, leaving me alone in the library with the king.

  Heinrich stared into the flames a moment longer before rousing himself out of his reverie. He gestured at the refreshments. “May I interest you in some tea? Or a sweet cake?” His voice was much quieter and far more civil than it had been last night.

  “No, thank you. I’m still full from my breakfast with Dahlia.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Dahlia has always been kind that way, always welcoming people and showing them the best of Glitnir. That’s one of the things I love most about her.”

  “She seems like a lovely woman.”

  His smile sharpened a bit. “For the king’s mistress? That’s what people usually mean, when they say things like that.”

  I shook my head. “I meant no disrespect.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is, and we are who we are. At this point in our lives, I doubt there’s anything I can do to change things, especially what people think of us.”

  He stared into the flames again, and I sat back in my seat, getting comfortable and letting him put his thoughts in order. Finally, Heinrich looked at me again.

  “I asked you here so I could apologize for everything that happened yesterday. You’re my guest, and you were almost killed. I regret that more than you know. But I especially regret how I behaved at dinner last night. I shouldn’t have sprung my proposal on you like that, and I shouldn’t have pressured you into accepting it. Not in front of everyone else.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because I was—am—desperate, just like you said. The Mortan king will never be satisfied until he has conquered Andvari and enslaved my people, and I’m growing too weak to fight him much longer.” Heinrich let out a long, weary sigh, as if his confession had further drained what little strength he had left.

  “I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now, but Frederich’s death has . . . hit me hard. Losing a child is every parent’s worst fear, but I didn’t know it was possible to hurt this much.” His voice cracked on the last few words.

  Sympathy filled me for the king and all the heartache he and his people had suffered. “You lost your son. There is no shame in grieving for him, Lord Hans, and everyone else.”

  Heinrich laughed, but there was no humor in the low, ugly sound. “You know as well as I do that kings and queens do not have the luxury of grief. But perhaps the worst part is that I thought that sending Frederich to Bellona would keep him safe, Gemma too, and help secure our kingdom. But instead, all I did was get my son killed.” A shudder rippled through his body, and he seemed to sink even deeper into his chair.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “You saw the memory stone. You saw what Vasilia did to her own mother and sister. No one could have prevented that. Vasilia was always going to slaughter the queen. Your son, ambassador, and countrymen were just unfortunate enough to be at Seven Spire when she decided to strike.”

  “Deep down, I know that, but I still feel like it’s my fault.” Heinrich shook his head. “I’m just glad his mother isn’t alive to see this day. Losing Frederich would have killed Sophina, just like it’s slowly killing me.”

&nb
sp; He stared into the fire again, his pale skin stretched tight over the sharp planes of his face. In that moment, he looked like a skeleton who was just waiting for the last bits of flesh to peel off his bones and reveal his true dead self underneath.

  After about a minute of silent contemplation, Heinrich stared at me again, his eyes a bit clearer and sharper than before. “But my offer still stands.”

  “What?”

  “My offer still stands,” he repeated in a firmer voice. “Marry Dominic, and join our two kingdoms. That’s the only way either one of us is going to survive. That’s the only way Andvari and Bellona will survive, although I’m sure the Mortan king will still do his best to crush us both.”

  He was most definitely right about that, especially since I had almost been killed in this very room last night, along with his son.

  Heinrich speared me with a hard look. “This marriage needs to happen, Everleigh. As soon as possible. You know that I’m right.”

  “I don’t know that you’re right.” I sighed. “But I can’t say that you’re wrong either.”

  “Especially with the Regalia coming up,” he added, pressing his point.

  Surprise jolted through me. “I didn’t realize this was a Regalia year.”

  He nodded. “Yes, which is why it’s even more important for Andvari and Bellona to stand united.”

  The Regalia Games happened once every three years and were a time when the leaders of all the kingdoms gathered to watch the best warriors, athletes, magiers, and masters from their respective lands compete for the glory of applause, money, and more. With everything that had happened over the past several months, I hadn’t remembered that this was a Regalia year.

  Heinrich was right. Given the upcoming Regalia, it was even more important for us to stand together, but I still wasn’t ready to give in to his proposal.