The Heart of Betrayal

  “Where were the gods in this?” someone called.

  The gods. I had no answer except, “The gods wept too.”

  “What were the sisters’ names?” another called.

  Though I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, I saw the Komizar’s shadow pass in his tower window.

  “It grows dark,” I said. “Go home to your suppers. I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”

  * * *

  The room shivered with emptiness. I set about straightening the meager contents, still scattered from the guards’ riotous search for hidden weapons. They gave no thought to where they threw things. I longed for the company of the people in the square again. There was more I had wanted to say, and the solitude of the room allowed my doubts to creep back in.

  I refolded the rumpled blankets and propped the practice swords back up against the wall. Impaled heads … the Assassin’s handiwork. Rafe’s remark was intentional, a warning for me. What had Kaden done? I remembered on my first day here that he had an urgent duty regarding soldiers he had to attend to, and his sharp refusal when I asked to go along. Was that where he had gone? To execute boys? The difference between children and adults didn’t seem to exist in Venda. Had he swung a sword with as little remorse as the Komizar showed this afternoon? I simply couldn’t believe it. They might both be Vendan, but they were as different as fire and water. I wondered what the condemned soldiers had done. Stolen food like the butcher? Starving is barbaric, Princess. I sat down on the bed. That was why they had no prisoners in Venda. Prisoners had to be fed.

  Yet the Council seemed to lack nothing.

  I had risen to pour water in the basin and wash up when I heard footsteps in the hall. A single thump shook the door and then the lock rattled.

  It was Ulrix. He cracked the door only a few inches, just wide enough to say, “The Komizar wants you. Wear your purple. I’ll wait out here.”

  He shut the door so I could change. It was too early for the evening meal in Sanctum Hall, and Calantha was always sent to get me. Or the Komizar himself banged on the door. Never Ulrix. Wear the purple. Another dress that showed off the kavah, made of scraps of soft buckskin dyed with thannis.

  I took the folded dress from the pile on top of the chest and rubbed the soft leather between my fingers. Something isn’t right. But nothing had been right for so long, I wasn’t sure how one more worry mattered.

  Ulrix didn’t take me to the Komizar’s private meeting chamber as I expected, and when I asked where we were going, he didn’t answer. He led me to a remote part of the Sanctum, down narrow curving stairs in a wing where I had never been. The stairs emptied into a large, round foyer barely lit with a single torch. There was one small recessed door and hallways on either side that vanished into darkness.

  Before we reached the door, it opened, and a handful of quarterlords, chievdars, governors, and Rahtan filed out. This wasn’t the Council. Malich was among them, and while I expected a smug grin on his face, they all wore self-assured expressions as they walked past me. When they had disappeared in different directions down the hallways, Ulrix nudged me toward the room. “Go in.”

  Only a hint of light came through the open doorway, a subdued golden flicker. The gods help me. I kissed my shaking fingers, lifted them to the air, and moved forward.

  A small candle lit a table in the center, leaving the rest of the room cast in black. I saw the faint outline of the Komizar sitting in a chair, his boots propped on the table, leisurely watching me as I entered.

  The door slammed shut behind me.

  “You wore the purple,” he said. “Good.”

  “How can you tell in the dark?”

  I heard the gentle inhale of his breath. “I can tell.”

  “You hold secret meetings in dark chambers now?”

  “Greater plans call for greater privacy.”

  “But not with the whole Council?”

  “I’m the Komizar. I meet with whom I choose, where I choose.”

  “So I see.”

  “Come closer.”

  I stepped forward until I was standing near him. He casually reached out and touched one of the loose scraps cascading from my dress.

  “I have some good news for you, Princess. Something that will give you many more freedoms here in Venda. Your status is changing. You’re no longer to be a prisoner.” He smiled. The candlelight danced along his cheekbone, and his lashes cast a sharp shadow around his eyes.

  My dress suddenly felt far too tight and the room sickly warm. “And how did I come by this good news?” I asked.

  “It seems that clan elders would like some proof of your intentions. More of a willingness on your part.”

  “That might be hard to come by.”

  “Not so hard. And it will serve the fervor.”

  And then he explained.

  His first words froze me; the next ones left me numb. Word by word. I watched his mouth move, admired the careful precision of each syllable, traveled the line of his lips, his facial hair so neatly trimmed across his jaw, the curl of his dark locks against the white of his shirt, his skin clear and warm. I traced the line of a small vein on his neck, listened to the careful pacing of his voice, magnetic, powerful, watched the flickering light play across his forehead. So much to draw my mind away as he laid out detail after detail, but it wasn’t enough to block it out completely. Word by word. It was the last thing I expected to roll from his tongue. A turn I hadn’t seen coming.

  Masterful.

  Genius.

  Devastating.

  You and I will wed.

  He looked at me, his eyes hungry, not with lust but with something that ran much colder, gauging my every twitch and breath. I was certain he could see my blood drain to my feet.

  “My advisers have seen how the clans have taken to you. You’ve charmed them. Quite a talent, since clans are tight-knit and can be hostile to newcomers. My advisers believe a marriage will come in useful during the harder times ahead. It will prove your commitment in the clans’ eyes.

  “And there’s an undeniable sweetness for the rest of us if the enemy should find out their Royal First Daughter has not only run away from them but straight into the arms of their adversary. A marriage of her own making, so to speak.” He shook his head. “We had quite a laugh over the discord that will sow.”

  “And you, of course, will make sure they know this.”

  “The news is already on its way. That was the detail the chievdars liked best. It’s a victory for all of us. This will also put to rest any notions you may have entertained of ever returning home. If your kin scorned you for treason before, you’ll be the most wanted criminal in their kingdom now.”

  “And what of Dalbreck when they find out about this?”

  “What of it? The prince has already voiced his opinion of the thwarted marriage. His dealings are with us now. He won’t care if we behead or wed you.”

  “And if I don’t go along?”

  “That would be regrettable. My Assassin, it seems, has developed an affection for you. For the greater good of Venda, he’d overlook the new arrangement, but unless he perceives it to be your decision, I’m afraid he could become a problem. I would hate to lose him.”

  “You’d kill Kaden?”

  “A measure of passion at last,” he said, grinning, and then his eyes went dead. “Yes. As he would me if I did something so stupid as to hinder the greater good. It is our way.”

  “You mean your way.”

  He sighed. “If that’s not enough to convince you, I think I’ve glimpsed some lingering fondness in your eyes for the emissary. I’d hate to break my promise giving him a month for his prince to send a messenger. It would be unfortunate if he began losing fingers prematurely. I’m finding him useful, and I have to admit a certain admiration for his unabashed ambition, but he’d be expendable too, at least pieces of him would be, unless your performance rises to stellar proportions. It’s much more efficient to prevent problems than clean them up.” He stood and
his hands slid up my arms. “Convince them. Convince me.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but his finger jumped to my lips to silence me. “Shh.” His eyes grew dusky. He pulled me close, his lips searing fire against mine, though he barely grazed them as he whispered, “Think, Princess. Choose your next words very carefully. You know I’m true to my word. Think about how you want to proceed from this moment on.”

  My mind burned with the choice. He had played the winning card on my first day here. “There’s always more to take, isn’t there, sher Komizar?”

  “Always, my pet.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Sometimes we’re all pushed to do things we thought we could never do. It wasn’t just gifts that came with great sacrifice. Sometimes love did too.

  Convince him. I relaxed against his touch and didn’t turn away when his mouth met mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I sat at the head of the table next to the Komizar. Several of the governors whispered among themselves. They had noticed my new position but said nothing openly. When he walked in with Calantha, Rafe noticed too, pausing for an extra beat as he pulled out his chair. The hall was full tonight, not just the usual Council and soldiers, but elders of the clans too. The Meurasi outnumbered them all, sitting at extra tables that had been brought in. I saw Effiera among them watching me. She tilted her head approvingly at my purple dress of scraps. There were also the quarterlords—the ones I had seen leaving the hidden chamber. Their glances cut not with approval but with stinging victory.

  I looked away from Rafe, whose gaze still rested on me. Don’t make a mistake, Lia, not like— I saw my brother’s sightless eyes, the scattered pieces of body in the valley floor, the head of the butcher rolling to the ground. What had made me think I could ever outmaneuver someone like the Komizar? My head still spun with this turn I hadn’t seen coming.

  While the Komizar was occupied with the chievdar to his left, I asked Calantha if she would deliver the acknowledgment of sacrifice tonight. My tongue felt like sand. My head throbbed. I wasn’t even sure I could conjure the words from my memory.

  “No. It’s left to you, Princess,” she said. “You will do this.”

  There was a strange urgency in her tone that made me stop and look more closely at her face. Her pale eye glistened, pinning me to my chair. Insistent.

  The platter of bones was set in front of me, and I simply stared at it.

  The room grew quiet, hungry, waiting. The Komizar kicked my foot beneath the table.

  I stood and lifted the plate of bones and said the blessing in two languages as Kaden had done for me.

  E cristav unter quiannad.

  A sacrifice ever remembered.

  Meunter ijotande.

  Never forgotten.

  Yaveen hal an ziadre.

  Another day we live.

  I paused, the platter trembling in my hands. There was stirring, waiting for me to finish, but I added more.

  E cristav ba ena. Mias ba ena.

  A sacrifice for you. Only for you.

  And so shall it be,

  For evermore.

  Paviamma.

  A rumble of paviammas returned to me.

  The hunger of the Council and guests quickly overtook any notice of the added words, but I knew Rafe had noted it. He was the last to echo back paviamma to me as he looked down at the table.

  The meal seemed to rush past. I had hardly taken a bite when the Komizar pushed back his seat, satisfied. “I have some news to share with you, Emissary.”

  The clatter of the meal stopped. Everyone wanted to hear the news. My stomach churned with the small morsel I had eaten. But it wasn’t the news any of us expected.

  “Riders from Dalbreck arrived today,” he announced.

  “So soon?” Rafe asked, casually wiping grease from the corner of his mouth.

  “Not the riders I sent. These were Rahtan who had already been in Dalbreck.”

  Rahtan with news. My hand slid to my side, inching down for Natiya’s knife in my boot before I remembered it was gone. I eyed the dagger sheathed at Calantha’s side.

  “It seems there may be some truth in your story. They brought news of the queen’s death of a widespread fever, and the king hasn’t been seen in weeks, either in mourning or on his deathbed as well. I’ll assume the latter until I hear more.”

  I sat back and stared at Rafe. The queen. His mother.

  He blinked. His lips half parted.

  “You look surprised,” the Komizar said.

  Rafe finally found his voice. “Are you sure? The queen was in good health when I left.”

  “You know how those scourges are. They ravage some more quickly than others. But my riders witnessed a rather impressive funeral pyre. Those royals are quite extravagant about such things.”

  Rafe nodded absently, silent for another long while. “Yes … I know.”

  The pain of my utter helplessness surged through me. I couldn’t go to him, couldn’t hold him in my arms, couldn’t even offer him the simplest words of comfort.

  The Komizar leaned forward, apparently noting Rafe’s reaction. “You cared for the queen?”

  Rafe looked at him, his eyes as fragile as glass. “She was a quiet woman,” he answered. “Not like—” His chest rose deeply, and he took a drink of his ale.

  “Not like that dried-up bastard she’s saddled with? Those are the toughest ones to kill.”

  I watched the steel return to Rafe’s eyes. “Yes,” he said, a frightening smile on his lips, “but even the tough ones die eventually.”

  “Let’s hope sooner rather than later, so your prince and I can strike our deal.”

  “It won’t be long,” Rafe assured him. “You can count on that. The prince may even help matters along if he has to.”

  “A ruthless son?” the Komizar said, his words dripping with admiration.

  “A determined one.”

  The Komizar nodded his approval of the prince’s pending patricide, then added, “For your sake, I hope very determined. The days do tick by, and my distaste for royal schemes hasn’t diminished. I graciously host his emissary, but not without a price that must be paid. One way or another.”

  Rafe managed an icy grin. “I wouldn’t worry. You’ll be repaid tenfold for your efforts.”

  “Very well, then,” the Komizar answered, as if pleased with the bounty promised, and motioned for the dishes to be cleared away. In almost the same breath, he ordered more drinks to be poured. The servants came forward with the expensive vintage of the Morrighese vineyards, one never shared beyond personal gifts to the governors. I chewed my lip. I knew what this meant. No, not now. Hadn’t he shared enough news for one day? Hadn’t Rafe heard enough for one night?

  But then he twisted it into something even worse—he made me tell them. “Our princess would like to share some news too.” He stared at me, his eyes chiseled stone, waiting.

  My muscles were loose, wobbly, drained of strength. It felt as if I had already walked a thousand miles, and now I was asked to walk one more. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to stop trying and cease to care. I closed my eyes, but a stubborn flame that couldn’t be doused still burned.

  Convince them. Convince me.

  When I opened my eyes, his gaze was still fixed on me, and I met his marble stare. He commanded a marriage, which in his own words meant many more freedoms, but more freedom also meant more power—something he hated to share.

  His eyes grew sharp at my delay. Demanding.

  And maybe that was the deciding prod in my ribs, as it had always been.

  Another mile. For you, Komizar. I smiled, a smile he surely thought was by his order. I’d give him his marriage, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t turn some fraction of this moment to my advantage, and fractions of moments after that, until they added up to something whole and fearsome, because with my last dying breath, I would make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on me.

  I reached out, caressed his cheek, heard the murmurs
at the unexpected display of affection, then I pushed back my chair and stood on it. The tables that had been added to accommodate the additional elders and quarterlords at the meal reached to the end of the hall. By standing on the chair, I made certain they could all see and hear me. Hold my tongue, indeed.

  “My brethren,” I called out, my voice loud and overflowing with all the grand flourishes that would please the Komizar. “Today’s a great day for me, and I hope when I share my news, you’ll agree it’s a great day for us all. I owe you all much. You’ve given me a home. I’ve been welcomed by you, shared your cups of thannis, been warmed by your fires, your handshakes, and your hopes. The clothes that adorn my back have come from you too. I’ve received more than I have given, but now I hope to repay your kindnesses. Today the Komizar has asked me to—” I deliberately paused, drawing out the moment, and watched them lean forward, sit taller, their mouths hanging open, breaths held, drinks poised, eyes riveted. I paused just long enough that the Komizar saw and understood that he was not the only one who knew how to command a room, and finally, when even he edged forward in his seat just a bit, I spoke again. “Today your Komizar has asked me to stand by his side, to be his wife and queen, but I come to you first, because before I answer him, I must know that you think my place here will serve Venda. So I ask, what say you, elders, lords, brothers, and sisters? Shall I accept the Komizar’s proposal? Yea or nay?”

  A breathless hush filled the hall, and then a deafening Yea! Yea! Fists lifted to the air; hands pounded on tables; feet stomped the floor; tankards sloshed and spilled in toasts. I jumped down from the chair and leaned over the Komizar, kissing him fully and enthusiastically, which made the hall erupt in more earsplitting cheers.

  I pulled back slightly, but my lips grazed his as if we were lovers who couldn’t part. “You wanted a convincing performance,” I whispered. “You got one.”

  “A little excessive, don’t you think?”

  “Listen. Are you not getting the results you wanted? Fervor, I think you called it?”