Chapter Seventeen
Chaos surrounded me, pushing the air from my lungs. Guards swarmed Sabine’s chamber. One seized me by the wrists and pinned my hands behind my back. I cast about for help. Two guards relieved Beau of his arms and subdued him. One of them forced him to the ground, where he held him with a knee to his back. A fifth guard grasped Sabine by the shoulders. She raised her chin and regarded them all magnanimously. I envied her calm.
All parties under control, they led us to the door, to imprisonment or execution at least; that is what I suspected. This is a mistake, I thought. There is no way Sabine had anything to do with Sarelle’s death. My guard halted, and I nearly ran into him. I looked up, and a figure in the doorway prevented our exit.
“Unhand these ladies.” Johai’s blue eyes were aflame, and I trembled at the sound of his ire. Never before had gratitude and repulsion been more at odds within me.
“Stand down, your grace. The king has ordered these people arrested,” one of the guards commanded.
“On what grounds?” Johai challenged, arms folded across his chest, and his feet squared.
I wondered why they did not simply push past him. Johai, a man of average build, held no challenge to the girth and force of five palace guards.
However, the guards held, eyes fixed on their captain, who raked his gaze up and down Johai.
“I am not required to answer to you. Stand down, or I will be forced to use extreme measures.” His hand clutched at the sword at his belt.
“I have orders that say otherwise.” Johai extracted a folded piece of parchment from his breast pocket and handed it over to the captain.
The captain snatched the document from his outstretched grasp and furrowed his brows as he read. As he did, I tried, unsuccessfully, to keep my gaze from wandering over to Johai. I drank in his countenance whilst peering at him from the corner of my eye. He kept a studied gaze on the captain. My heart thudded despite my wishes for it not to. Why was he here, now of all times? Despite my wish to not want to see him, I could not fault his good timing.
The captain cursed and shoved the missive back into Johai’s hands. He turned to Sabine. “Which one of your ladies is Maea of House Diranel?”
“That is I, my lord.” I framed my address to mollify him and also feared what Johai’s letter entailed. What if they wanted vengeance for my betrayal?
“You are free to go.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. The question “why” dangled from the tip of my tongue. The guards harried Sabine, the ambassador and Beau out before I had the chance to ask. I only managed a fleeting grasp of
Sabine’s hand before she slid by me. They exited, and their booted feet echoed in the corridor. Guilt gnawed at me like a canker. Why had I been spared? What had Sabine done to deserve this?
I turned my indignation on the only person left, Johai. “Why did you stop them? I should be with her. She needs me.”
“You cannot help her any longer. It is out of our hands.” He turned as if to walk away, and I followed him.
I snatched at him by the wrist. “It is not too late. Someone who had enough power to override the king’s orders had to write that missive to pardon me. Why save me and not her?”
He heaved a sigh, and his shoulders were taut enough that the blades touched. “You are too important to sacrifice.”
I tightened my grip upon his wrist, ignoring the urge to do otherwise. “What does any of this have to do with me, Johai? I have no more patience for these games you play.”
He turned to face me, and he searched my eyes. “I thought with the spell broken—” He paused as I glowered at him. “You do not remember, do you?”
“I remember enough to know that I loved you once until you betrayed me.” I spat the words. I thought once they were out in the open I would feel better. I did not.
He recoiled from my touch as if struck. “I know.”
The weight of the emotion in those two words was enough to dampen the flame of my anger.
I stepped back, off balanced by his statement. Why can you not deny it or be cruel to me? I thought. It would be much easier to hate you.
Johai placed the parchment in my hand. His fingertips brushed the inside of my wrist as he did so. “If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask someone else.”
I closed my hand around the missive, crinkling it in my firm grip. He strode out of the room. I stayed there, staring beyond the wide open door, my eyes unfocused from unshed tears. Eventually, I read the missive. Inside was a simple message:
Maea of House Diranel, lady-in-waiting to Her Highness Princess Sabine, is under my protection.
It was signed and sealed with an emblem of the tree of Danhad intertwined with the flower of House Florett, the royal seal of the Queen’s household. I was under her protection.
I thought I had escaped their plotting, but I knew then that I had never been out of their reach. I wanted to give up; the scope of Damara’s plotting seemed beyond comprehension. Had their intention been to eliminate Sabine? What obstacle could she pose to placing Layton on the throne, I wondered. But if I were correct, then Sabine’s life may very well hang in the balance. I needed to reach my few allies—namely Adair.
Whatever Damara’s plot, I would thwart it. My first task lay in garnering supporters. Damara had great influence at court, a fact I was all too aware of as I tossed the queen’s pardon to the floor. I went to my room, where I wrote a hasty letter to Layton, agreeing to his offer to use Earvin as my guard. Now more than ever I was certain I was in need of protection. An insider in Damara’s household would also be of use to me if I played my cards right.
After giving instructions to a dazed servant to deliver my letter in secret to Layton, I headed to the barracks in search of Earvin.
The palace was abuzz with news of Sabine’s imprisonment, and more than a few individuals stopped me to question me. I avoided their questions with little regard for manners. Time was of the essence, and if I had let Damara go before, I was paying for my mercy now.
I rapped on the wooden door to the barracks’ office. As I awaited an answer, I thought about Sarelle’s death. Who could have wanted her dead and why? My first thought was to suspect Damara, but she was in the queen’s pocket. It seemed unlikely the queen would willingly plot the murder of her own daughter. Why did they protect me? What could I possibly do for them? A guard in a linen shirt and breeches answered. His brows furrowed in confusion upon seeing me. Belatedly, I realized the audacity of a woman of my status to come here. The deed was done, however, and I squared my shoulders and looked the guard in the eye.
“Can I help you, my lady?”
“Yes.” My voice wobbled. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I am looking for Earvin in the service of House Florett.”
He scratched his head. “I don’t recall any guards by that name. Are you sure you have the name right?”
My stomach sank. What if he had left court? Did Damara suspect his loyalty to me and send him away? “I am certain; he has been my personal guard since arriving in Keisan,” I insisted, hoping beyond hope I was not too late. “Has he recently departed? It is of the utmost importance that I contact him.”
“My lady, I oversee all the housing for the guards here, and there’s never been a man by that name housed here.”
The man stared at me with narrowed eyes as if he were questioning my sanity. Perhaps he does not stay in the barracks, I thought, but where else could I look? I glanced over my shoulder as if expecting him to appear at my command. Then, striding around the corner in conversation with another guard, Hilliard came into view.
Our eyes met, and his brows shot up in surprise. He turned and spoke to the man he was with before striding in my direction. He approached the pair of us and said, “Lady Maea, what are you doing here?”
In a split decision, I took a risk and confided in him. “Hilliard, I must speak with you in private.” I attempted to convey the seriousness of the matter with a firm look and a tilt of
my head away from the barracks guard, who rubbed his chin, looking puzzled.
“I shall help Lady Diranel,” Hilliard said in dismissal to the guard.
The guard saluted him and strode away. I wondered how a former strategist turned head guard held sway here, but more pressing matters required my attention so I gave it no more than a passing thought.
“What is it, lass? Has something happened?” He grabbed my shoulders and squeezed as if to comfort me.
I fought the tears that pricked my eyes. How I wished I could fall into Hilliard’s embrace. Time, however, was not on my side.
“Sabine has been arrested, and I am in need of Earvin’s service. I fear I am no longer safe.” I avoided Hilliard’s gaze, fearing he would see through my deception. I needed them to believe me ignorant of their plot. Hilliard was still Damara’s man, which meant I could not trust him.
He dropped his hand to his side, and he searched my face, his eyes narrowed. I continued to avoid meeting his eyes, and I feared he would see through my avoidance. “I’ll see it done,” he said finally.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Hilliard.”
“Anything for you, lass.” He smiled, revealing his gap-toothed grin.
Guilt stabbed me in the gut afresh as I attempted to smile back. I am a liar, I thought.
I headed next to the royal apartments. Adair’s help was crucial to my plans to free Sabine and stop Damara. I arrived at Adair’s apartment out of breath. I panted my request to his servant, who gave me a chilly decline, informing me that his master was not around and he was unsure when he would be returning.
Defeated and exhausted, I headed back to my rooms. On my way, I passed a hallway that ended at a verdant courtyard. I thought to take a rest and collect my thoughts. If I was being honest with myself, I did not like the prospect of facing an empty chamber after the day’s events. At the center of the garden, a white marble fountain burbled. A few benches faced the dancing water, and it was here that I took my rest.
The statue in the center captured the image of the Goddess carrying a jug of water, which she poured into the fountain basin. It depicted the story of the birth of the seas. When the Goddess created the earth, she gathered the sky in a clay jug and poured it down upon the land. It washed across the land, birthing the seas, or so the legend goes.
“The demon hides behind the face of an innocent, but I shall not be deceived!” a woman shrieked.
I sat up straighter and craned my head in the direction of the voice.
“Your Highness, calm yourself!” a man shouted.
“I shall strike mine enemy before their wicked tongue soothes me into my own death.” The woman continued, apparently ignoring the man.
A child’s scream pierced through the chaos, and I jumped to my feet to investigate. A wrought-iron gate separated the garden from another inner garden. Tall hedges lined the gate, and from behind them, the voices continued to ring out.
“I have brought from my womb the death of all things!” the woman wailed.
“Mommy!” a child cried.
I shook the gates, helpless to assist. Two guards jogged into the inner courtyard, their boots ringing on the flagstone. A woman, her dark hair wild and unkempt, rocked back and forth, muttering incoherently under her breath. A child stood not far from her, small hands balled into fists on the front of her gown. Her ebony curls were pulled back today, and her blue eyes red from crying. Princess Edalene sniffled as the woman, who I assumed to be her mother, continued to rage.
“The child of two crowns will be our undoing. You must slay the dragon before it learns to breathe fire!”
The guards each grabbed one arm of the woman, who slipped from their grasp and turned to scratch at their faces. They avoided her attack by ducking, but it gave her the opportunity to lunge for Edalene.
I shook at the gate and shouted for Edalene. She turned her tear-filled blue eyes towards me, but she seemed transfixed. Her mother was caught about the waist by one of the guards and hauled back before she could land a hand on the child. I wrenched at the gate once more before the latch gave. I stumbled through and ran to Edalene’s side. I opened up my arms to her, and she wrapped small arms around my neck and buried her face into my shoulder. I rubbed comforting circles into her back as the men worked to drag the woman away.
The woman, noticing me, stopped and stared for a long moment. Her guards took the opportunity to get a better grasp on her and tugged more insistently to bring her inside.
“Daughter of the blood! Heed your prophecy’s eye. Do not be blinded!”
“Call for the prince!” one of the guards shouted over her to a servant, who stood in the doorway wringing his hands.
Edalene sobbed harder and clutched the sleeves of my dress. I looked away, ignoring her mad ravings.
“Why does my momma hate me?” she whispered.
I murmured nonsense comforts, wishing I could take the pain away for her.
I tried to turn her tears to smiles by telling her a favorite childhood tale of mine about a clever fox that tricked a bear into making his supper. It was one Damara had taught me as a girl. It was a strange thing to remember at such a time, but it soothed the child. The shouts and threats echoed from within, but the woman did not reemerge.
I managed to coax Edalene out of the inner courtyard and onto a nearby bench before the fountain, where she laid her head on my lap while I played with her long hair, spinning the tale for her. I tried not to think about Sabine, whom the child closely resembled, trapped in the tower, awaiting an uncertain future. Or Damara, who had taught me the story while I, too, had laid my head on her lap, letting her stroke my hair.
“Edalene, are you here?” a familiar voice called out. My head shot up to meet Adair’s tired gaze. “Maea, what are you doing here?” There was no accusation in his tone, only wonder.
“I came to find you, and well—” I paused and looked down at Edalene. Her tears had dried, and she sat up, a smile tilting her rose petal lips.
She glanced between the pair of us, beaming all the while. Though I was pleased she had cheered up, I wondered if it was more than her brother’s presence that had turned her mood. “Brother is very fond of you. He told me so,” she said in a stage whisper.
My stomach flopped, but I smiled at the girl. “Is that so,” I whispered back in the same manner. I glanced sidelong at Adair, who pretended not to be listening.
Edalene nodded vigorously.
Adair came and knelt beside her. He grabbed one of her small hands in his. “Darling, I need to speak with Lady Diranel for a moment. Go with Mistress Verner to your chambers, and I will be there shortly.”
She nodded and joined a robust woman who awaited her at the other end of the enclosed garden. She turned back one last time before leaving and gave me a wink. I laughed despite my tension. The action reminded me strongly of her brother.
He turned back to me once she had disappeared around the garden walls. “I will never understand how you arrive at just the right times.” He took a seat beside me and stared at the door where his mother had disappeared. Her shouts had desisted, but his brow remained furrowed. “Edalene knows not to come in Mother’s garden, that it’s forbidden to her. I am surprised she came here.”
I wanted to ask him more about his mother, about why she had acted the way she did, but I thought it inappropriate and said instead, “Can you blame the child for wanting to see her mother?”
He sighed. “No, but whenever she sees Edalene, she has these—attacks. I suppose I should have expected it. She has been good for a while now. Perhaps this business with Sarelle has her upset. I tell the servants to hold their tongues but—”
I felt for Edalene. Her mother feared her, it seemed. I had never known my mother, but I could imagine the pain the child felt being rejected by her. Adair looked to me and stopped, perhaps thinking he had said too much.
I changed the subject from the sensitive topic. “Adair, I wish this was a pleasure visit, but—Sabine has
been imprisoned for the murder of Princess Sarelle.”
Adair paused, the only indication of his shock. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I heard. I was going to find you when they came to fetch me to calm my mother.”
His reaction was more frustrating than comforting. Though I appreciated his concern, Sabine was the one who was really in danger. “You have to speak to the king. He cannot believe that Sabine had anything to do with this.”
“I have already spoken to him, and he will not hear anything on the subject.” Adair sighed again and ran his hands through his hair. “It’s not so simple. It’s Dallin’s only child that died; he will not be easy to appease. Besides, Sabine is here as a surety no harm would come to Sarelle. If Sarelle has been murdered as you say, then Sabine’s life is in danger.”
“Do you think he suspects a Neaux plot against the princess? Do they mean to start another war?” Was this what the visions warned me of? Was I blinded by my own selfishness and unable to see it until now?
“We cannot say. For now we wait. My uncle will send messengers to Neaux for negotiations. Until that is complete, Sabine will be locked in the tower.”
I gasped and tried to choke back my sob. I had not taken that factor into account. I had hoped against reason it was not so, but to hear it put so bluntly, it threatened to be my undoing.
Adair grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. “Do not give up, because we have the greatest weapon in Sabine’s defense.”
I raised my brow in question. “What do you mean? If the king cannot be swayed, what else is left?”
“You, Maea, you are a diviner. You can use your power to prove Sabine’s innocence. If you can convince the king that she was not involved, even if the worst were to happen, her life may yet be saved.”
I wanted to laugh. What could I do for Sabine? Had I foreseen this, perhaps I could have helped, but nothing I could say would change the fact that Sarelle was dead. “It is not that easy. I have no influence here.”
“No, it will not be that simple.” He stood to pace the length of the enclosure. “We shall need to summon the council; the Order of the Oak must gather. We shall come to a decision in this matter, and we will find a way to save Sabine, no matter the cost.” He paced as he plotted, and I relaxed, knowing that I had done the right thing in going to Adair. How could I have doubted him? Sarelle had been his cousin, and he believed me before the official decree that Sabine was involved.
“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” I said.
He stopped pacing and turned to face me as if he had forgotten I was there. He smiled, however, and kneeled on the ground in front of me. He took my hand from my lap. He turned it over in his and brushed his thumb along the metal ring I wore on my thumb. “You’re wearing my ring.”
“You gave it to me.” I dropped my gaze and tried to pull away, but he drew me closer.
I tilted my head back and gazed into the depths of his sapphire eyes. His lips were near enough to touch, and I leaned in ever so slightly. At the back of my mind, the reasonable part of me screamed to stop, to see sense. He was a notorious womanizer, and I was no one, houseless, and without ally except for him.
He leaned in, and I held my breath. Do not. No, do.
“Your Highness.”
We pulled apart, and my cheeks burned. The expression of the servant who interrupted us was indifferent, as if he stumbled across the prince in this sort of situation often. Perhaps he did.
“Your mother has requested you. Will you come?” the servant asked.
“Yes, in a moment,” Adair replied.
The servant disappeared back inside, and Adair turned one last time to me. “I shall see you soon.” He pressed his lips to my wrist and left me there, my heart beating in my throat.