The controlled way his sister spoke was the essence of temperance. Concerned, Andreus glanced at the Council, who were watching Carys intently as the boy on the white stone floor explained, “A man said there would be food here. He told me I could come. So, I did because I was hungry, Your Highness.”
Andreus could see some in the crowd shift with impatience, but there were others who clearly believed the boy’s simple declaration and felt sorry for him.
Carys frowned and whirled toward Captain Monteros, her voice louder as she demanded, “Captain, how is it this boy was allowed into the castle, let alone the Hall of Virtues?”
Captain Monteros stared at Carys. “He must have snuck past the guards at the gate, Your Highness, and—”
“How many guards did you post at the entrance?”
“Dozens, Your Highness.”
“And they all are aware that my brother, their prince, was attacked by an assassin on the tournament grounds?”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“And yet this boy, who looks as if he hasn’t bathed in weeks and hasn’t eaten a real meal in at least as long, managed to gain access to the castle, wander dozens of corridors to reach the Hall of Virtues, and venture inside without any of the castle guard seeing him?”
A gasp went through the crowd as the significance of Carys’s words became apparent. Captain Monteros’s eyes shifted behind Carys to the Elders.
She didn’t wait for his answer. The bottom of her dress rippled and tendrils of hair blew around her face as she spun to face the Council. “If the guards Captain Monteros trained cannot be trusted to keep Varn and others who are uninvited out, how can I trust the word of the one who spoke against this boy tonight?”
“Are you saying the boy is innocent?” Elder Cestrum asked.
The room held their breath as Carys said, “Did I say that, my lord, or are you putting words in my mouth? Perhaps my maid can get you a dress to wear so you can just pretend to be me.”
Carys’s angry words made everyone in the room mumble—with surprise or disapproval, which Andreus could not tell. The Chief Elder’s eyes narrowed. If he wasn’t angry with his twin, Andreus would have applauded the insult. As it was, he was glad for the lack of control she was currently displaying. Certainly, a loose tongue was the opposite of temperance. Her words were coming faster and faster, and he could see the way she trembled. Most people would think it was because she was so upset, but he knew better. He recognized the signs of the Tears of Midnight losing effectiveness.
“You wish to know what I think?” His sister turned back to look at the boy, who appeared more terrified than when this began. “I believe there are many in this room and this castle who are to blame. This boy is but one of them. And it would be unjust to punish one without punishing them all. A week in the stockades in the center of Garden City for the guards who failed in their duty will make sure they don’t do so again. As for the boy—since there was no one concerned enough to tell him he could not enter the castle, my verdict is that he is to go free.”
The guard members standing behind Captain Monteros exchanged nervous glances.
The youth started to scramble to his feet, but Captain Monteros grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down. “I don’t believe you are done yet, boy,” Captain Monteros said, standing over him. “Prince Andreus has yet to give his verdict on what your punishment should be.”
Elder Cestrum nodded. “Yes. Prince Andreus. Your sister has given us a fascinating view of what her reign as Queen would look like. Publically punishing the guard is a . . . unique choice. Now the Elders and the court here in the Hall of Virtues would like to hear from you. What ruling would you give this young man for his crimes?”
All eyes turned to Andreus. He pretended not to feel the weight of their expectation as he studied Varn huddled on the floor. Andreus had no doubt as to how the boy got in the castle. After his discussion with Elder Jacobs, Andreus was sure that this “theft” was designed by the Council as part of the Trials. The boy was here because the Council wanted him here. The guards let him through because that had been their orders. Did the boy cut the purse Captain Monteros was holding off a lord’s belt? The boy had no knife that Andreus could see. If he had one, surely the guards would have taken it and shown it as another sign of the boy’s guilt.
His sister was right to say the boy should be set free, at the very least given a minimal punishment for this “crime.” But Andreus knew that was not the ruling the Council wanted—not the ruling he was supposed to give. Not if he wanted to convince them that he was strong enough to set aside his desire for approval and do what the kingdom needed. That he could draw a line in the sand that others knew could never be crossed without serious retribution.
Micah used to say their uncle had been right to want to lead a force decades ago against Adderton for their sheltering and support of the living members of the Bastians. Their uncle claimed King Ulron was weak for not hunting the last of them. He said strong men removed the head of a snake if they truly wished to ensure its death.
Instead of striking down Adderton and the Bastians, their father ordered the guards to seize their uncle for what he claimed was a plot against the crown. Not long after, Father took the advice offered by his brother and removed the snake’s head. No one after that dared to call King Ulron weak.
Now the Council was looking for that same strength—from him. As long as Andreus could convince Elder Jacobs and the rest that he was his father’s son, the crown would be his. His sister’s bid to bring the Council to her side would fail. Imogen would be his Queen and Carys would accept her new place in his life—or he would deal with that, too.
But first he had to cut the head off this snake.
“I understand my sister’s desire for mercy. It is only human to be swayed by a tale of hunger and a sad face. A strong ruler cannot act out of pity, but must instead think of the law.” Andreus glanced down at the boy—Varn—whose defiant pose was gone now. Instead, he seemed to be pleading for help with his eyes.
Andreus’s resolve trembled like the innocent boy in front of him. He thought of Max and for a moment wondered if Varn and Max could have known each other on the streets of Garden City. What would Max think after hearing that Andreus had passed judgment on a boy who was in essence just like him? Would he still believe Andreus was his hero?
Andreus pulled his gaze up and found Imogen standing not far behind the boy in the crowd. To keep her safe, he must be King. To be King, he must prove to the Council he was strong. What was one life when compared to all the others he would help as King? One life against hundreds of thousands.
And really, the boy was here in the Hall of Virtues. He must have known that when he walked into the castle and came through these doors he was doing something wrong. Still he came. For that arrogance the boy deserved to pay a price.
Keeping his eyes firmly on Imogen’s face, Andreus straightened his shoulders and said, “This boy stole a purse. Thefts must be punished. If they are not, it only encourages others to incite trouble in our city and the kingdom. The punishment for theft is the loss of a hand.”
“But I didn’t do it, Your Highness,” the boy cried. “They—”
“Silence,” Andreus snapped. “By interrupting you have shown clearly that you have no respect for the lords of this land. Not only did you steal a purse, but you used a weapon to do so.”
“Andreus,” Carys said.
He could hear the concern in his sister’s voice and he shoved it to the side. Thinking of the throne sitting just behind him, he walled up any pity he felt for the boy and instead focused on the way everyone waited for him to continue. High Lords hung on his every word. The Council of Elders and the guard were waiting to act as he ordered. Terror made the boy on the floor shake.
They all watched him as he had always seen people look at his father. He was no longer the one who guarded a terrible secret—no longer the one that was cursed. He was the one with power.
“To allow you t
o walk free would be a signal to all of Eden that attacking a lord is allowed.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Andreus!”
He wasn’t listening to his sister or the boy. He felt the power of the throne calling to him as he said, “For the crime of attacking a lord with a knife, stealing from him, and open disrespect to the throne, I order this criminal put to death.”
Elder Cestrum stepped forward. “The Council agrees with Prince Andreus. The boy is to be taken to the North Tower, where he will be executed as the Prince of this land has decreed.”
“No,” the youth said, shaking his head at the same time Carys yelled, “Andreus! What are you doing?”
The lights flickered in the hall. The shining orbs hanging from above began to sway as Captain Monteros yanked the boy to his feet and shoved him toward the two guards.
“It wasn’t me,” the boy shouted. “Your Highness. You have to believe me. It wasn’t me!” He pulled himself free of the guards’ grasp and came racing toward the dais. His hands were clasped in front of him—begging for mercy.
“I didn’t do it,” Varn shouted. “Please, Your Highness. Please—”
Light flashed off the steel in Captain Monteros’s blade as it slashed through the air.
Andreus heard his sister scream.
The lights flickered again. Captain Monteros’s sword bit into and through flesh. Blood spurted like a fountain, staining the white floor. Shrieks rang through the room and then went silent as the boy’s body crumpled to the ground and his head landed with a thud and rolled toward the dais.
When the Chief Elder stepped forward and declared Andreus the winner of both the ball and the extra trial, putting him two points closer to the throne—closer to the power he had just wielded—Andreus knew he should be horrified by what he had done.
The boy was dead. His words were the sword that killed him.
He had crossed a line he had never thought he would cross.
Regret bubbled up inside him. But when he saw Imogen’s understanding expression and saw Elder Jacobs nod when he met his eyes, Andreus shoved it back down instead, focused on the rush of strength and control. That power was what he wanted. That power would let him destroy the curse that had controlled his life since the day he was born. Once he had the throne, the “curse” would be no more and the people he had always feared would realize they should now fear him.
No, he would not regret his choice.
A glance at his sister shaking and sweating as she looked up at him with horror told him exactly what line he had to cross next.
15
Her head rang. Her heart pounded. Everything inside her screamed as she remembered the way her brother stepped in front of the Throne of Light with the dead body lying below him. There had been a smile on Andreus’s lips as Elder Cestrum spoke, but Carys couldn’t make sense of the words. Nothing made sense. The world was spinning. The lights above swayed and Carys felt a swirl of air pull at her skirts while she stared at the blood spread across the shining white stone floor.
A boy. No more than twelve or thirteen.
Just a boy.
“Princess, wait,” a voice called to her as she hurried down the corridor—away from the Hall of Virtues, and her brother, and the senseless death he had brought to an innocent boy.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not after what had just happened. She couldn’t stay and smile and act as though nothing was wrong while her brother accepted congratulations for his victory and Captain Monteros supervised his guard picking up the headless body and carrying it away.
The blood on the white stone floor would be cleaned. In mere minutes, maybe even right now, people would be dancing atop the spot where the boy had begged for his life and lost it. And her brother would smile and dance with them.
She couldn’t think about Andreus and what he had commanded in the Hall of Virtues. Her brother wasn’t heartless. It was the reason she thought he would make a great ruler. He believed in compassion. She had been certain he would do what was best for the kingdom.
Instead he struck a blow to the foundation of her world. She couldn’t stay in the Hall and she couldn’t go back to her rooms. Not yet. Not with the image of her brother’s satisfied smile playing over and over in her head. If she returned to her rooms now the need to drown those images with Tears of Midnight would be too strong for her to deny. It was everything she could do to keep herself from heading for the stairs and giving in to that desire.
Soon.
First, before the Tears blissfully chased the world away, she had to get to the stables. If Larkin had been hiding there for hours, there had to be a very good reason why. And if it was about Imogen, Carys needed to know exactly what that reason was.
She turned down a torchlit hallway, hoping to discourage the person following her. The footsteps behind her stopped. Then they started again . . . faster and getting closer.
Putting her hands in her pockets, Carys grabbed the handles of the stilettos, drew the blades, and turned.
Lord Errik stopped in his tracks and put his hands up in the air. “I apologize for startling you, Princess.”
“Don’t you know it’s a bad idea to pursue a lady who doesn’t wish to be followed?” she asked.
“In my experience, most ladies who are being pursued want to be caught. Clearly, Princess, you aren’t most ladies.” When she didn’t lower her weapons, his expression turned serious. “After what just happened with your brother and the attempt on his life earlier, I was worried about you being alone in these halls. Eden doesn’t appear to be a very safe place right now.”
No. No, it wasn’t. “I appreciate your concern, Lord Errik, but I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
“As we all learned with your excellent demonstration today,” he agreed, stepping forward. “But your eyes can only see what is in front of you. Even the most skilled warrior has need of someone to guard his back.”
“I thank you for your concern, Lord Errik, but my back is just fine.” At least it always had been because her brother had guarded it as she had guarded his. Now . . . now, unless she could change the path he was on, she would be on her own.
“Please, if you’ll allow me.” He lowered his hands and stepped forward.
“Why?” she demanded. Lowering the stilettos to her side, Carys said, “A good Trade Master would be careful not to take sides until a new ruler is on Eden’s throne. And if you truly believe I’m trying to lose, you should be in the Hall of Virtues still, with my brother.”
“A good Trade Master understands that it is impossible to partner with kingdoms that are at war with other countries or themselves. And even if that wasn’t true, I believe in fair play. It is clear there are a great many people in this castle who don’t. The fact that you’re losing isn’t going to alter that. It might even make it worse.”
“Andreus was only doing what he thought he must tonight,” she insisted, working to convince Errik of what she had been trying so hard to make herself believe.
“The Prince did what he thought would get him what he wanted. He made his choice and you made yours.” Errik looked down at the stilettos in her hands and then back at her. His tanned skin looked richer and his features sharper in the flickering torchlight. He stepped forward until he was less than an arm’s length from her. “I’m an outsider, which means you have no reason to trust me to take your part. But as strong and determined as you are, I don’t believe you can do this on your own. I am offering to stand at your side.”
She stared into the intense darkness of his eyes and felt the pull of his offer. Offering her trust was offering Errik power over her. Power was dangerous. Look at what it had already done to her brother. But Errik was right in saying that she needed someone to watch her back.
Still, she asked, “And if I refuse your offer, my lord? What then?”
Errik smiled. “Then I hope I’m better at dodging those stilettos than the man earlier today, because I have made the decision to
keep you safe—at least until I have the opportunity to teach you how to dance.”
The words, the look on his face, the nearness of his body made her heart pound harder and her stomach jump. And she didn’t have time for either.
“I have to go,” she said, stepping away so she could slide the stilettos into her pockets.
“Will you allow me to escort you back to your rooms,” Errik asked, “or shall I just hang in the shadows and allow you to pretend I’m not here?”
Yesterday, she would have said no. She would have commanded him away. Yesterday, her brother was on her side. Now Andreus was a different person and she needed to trust someone—before these trials and the people involved in them took him away from her forever.
“I’m not going to my rooms,” she admitted. “There is something I have to do in the stables first.”
Errik ran his eyes up and down her body and raised an eyebrow. “In those clothes? I’m going to have to teach you more than dancing, Highness. Have you ever heard of the word stealth?”
A half hour later, Carys had exchanged her shimmering blue gown and jewels for a dark gray servant’s dress that was a size too big and a matching gray cap under which Errik insisted she shove her distinctively colorless hair. Since there weren’t any pockets in this dress, Errik found a basket of dirty laundry for Carys to shove her stilettos into in order to carry them with her.
“Aren’t you going to change into servant’s attire, too?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He smiled. “My job is to be noticed. If there’s a demanding noble around no one has time to notice the servant scurrying through the halls before him.”
“I never scurry,” she said, heading into the hall with the basket balanced on her hip. The late hour meant there were fewer people in the castle corridors. She kept her head tilted down as she hurried to exit the castle. She needed to get to the stables before Larkin decided she wasn’t coming.
The chill of the night made Carys wish for a cloak as she crossed the castle’s courtyard, passed through the exit, and went down the narrow steps that led to the royal stables. They had been constructed on a wide ledge on the side of the plateau between the castle and Garden City with a slope that allowed the horses to easily get to the ground below. Lights on the castle walls glowed bright in the night. Carys could hear Errik’s voice echoing behind her as he boisterously spoke to everyone he passed.