The Heart of Betrayal

  “They said you buried them. All of them.”

  I stared at the weak beams of light filtering through the slits, trying to see anything but Walther’s sightless eyes staring into the sky and my fingers closing them for the last time. “I wish you could have known him,” I said. “My brother was going to be a great king one day. He was kind and patient in all ways, and he believed in me the way no one else did. He—” I turned to face Rafe. “He rode with a company of thirty-two—the strongest, bravest soldiers of Morrighan. I watched every one of them die. They were outnumbered five to one. It was a massacre.”

  The protective curtain I had drawn around myself was torn away, and sickening heat crawled over my skin. I smelled the sweat of their bodies. Pieces of bodies. I had gathered them all so nothing was left for the animals, then dropped to my knees thirty-three times to pray. My words spilled loose, bleeding from somewhere inside, thirty-three cries for mercy, thirty-three good-byes. And then the earth, soaked with their blood, swallowed them up, practiced, and they were gone. This was not the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.

  “Lia?”

  I looked at Rafe. Tall and strong like my brother. Confident like my brother. He had only four coming. How much more could I face losing?

  “Yes,” I answered. “I buried them all.”

  He reached out and pulled me to his side. I sat on the straw next to him. “We can do this,” he said. “We just have to buy time until my men get here.”

  “How long before your soldiers come?” I asked.

  “A few days. Maybe more. It depends how far south they have to ride in order to cross the river. But I know they’ll be here as soon as they can. They’re the best, Lia. The best of Dalbreck soldiers. Two of them speak the language fluently. They’ll find their way in.”

  I wanted to say that getting in wasn’t the problem. We had found our way in. The problem was getting out again. But I held my tongue and nodded, trying to appear encouraged. If his plan didn’t work, mine would. I had killed a horse this morning. Maybe by tonight I would kill another beast.

  “There might be another way,” I said. “They have weapons in the Sanctum. They’d never miss one. I might be able to slip a knife beneath my skirt.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “It’s too dangerous. If they—”

  “Rafe, their leader is responsible for killing my brother, his wife, and a whole company of men. It’s only a matter of time before he goes back for more. He has to be—”

  “His soldiers killed them, Lia. What good would killing one man do? You can’t take on a whole army with a single knife, especially in our positions. Right now our only goal is to get out of here alive.”

  We were at odds. In my head, I knew he was right, but a deeper, darker part of me still hungered for more than escape.

  He grabbed my arm, demanding an answer. “Do you hear me? You can’t do anyone any good if you’re dead. Be patient. My soldiers will come and then we’ll get out of this together.”

  Me, patient, four soldiers. The words together were lunacy. But I conceded, because even without the four, Rafe and I needed each other, and that was what mattered right now. We sat on the mattress of straw and made our plans, what we would tell them, what we wouldn’t, and the deceptions we would have to construct until help arrived. An alliance at last—the one our fathers had tried to procure all along. I told him everything I already knew of the Komizar, the Sanctum, and the halls they had dragged me through. Every detail could be important.

  “Be careful. Watch your words,” I said. “Even your movements. He misses nothing. He’s sharp-eyed even when he appears otherwise.”

  There were some things I held back. Rafe’s plans were metal and flesh, floor and fist, all things solid. Mine were things unseen, fever and chill, blood and justice, the things that crouched low in my gut.

  In the middle of whispering our plans, he paused suddenly and reached out, his thumb gently tracing a line across the crest of my cheek. “I was afraid—” He swallowed and looked down, clearing his throat. His jaw twitched, and I thought I would break watching him. When he looked back at me, his eyes crackled with anger. “I know what burns in you, Lia. They’ll pay for this. All of it. I promise. One day they’ll pay.”

  But I knew what he meant. That Kaden would pay.

  We heard footsteps approaching and quickly moved apart. He looked at me, the deep blue ice of his eyes cutting through the shadows. “Lia, I know your feelings about me may have changed. I deceived you. I’m not the farmer I claimed to be, but I hope I can make you fall in love with me again, this time as a prince, one day at a time. We’ve had a terrible start—it doesn’t mean we can’t have a better ending.”

  I stared at him, his gaze swallowing me whole, and I opened my mouth to speak, but every word still swam in my head. Fall in love with me again … this time as a prince.

  The door banged open, and two guards came in. “You,” they said, pointing to me, and I barely had time to get to my feet before they dragged me away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Down you go, girl.”

  I was dunked into a tub of ice-cold water, my head held below the surface as forceful hands scrubbed my scalp. I came up sputtering for a breath, choking on soapy water. Apparently the Komizar had found my appearance disgusting and especially offensive to his delicate nose, and ordered a quick cleanup. I was hauled out of the tub and ordered to dry myself with a piece of cloth no bigger than a handkerchief. A young woman whom the others called Calantha supervised my humiliating bath. She threw something at me. “Put this on.”

  I looked at the heap of cloth at my feet. It was a rough, shapeless sack that appeared more suited to stuffing with straw than a body. “I will not.”

  “You will if you want to live.”

  There was no hint of anger in her tone. Only fact. Her gaze was unnerving. She wore a patch over one eye. The black ribbon holding it in place contrasted with her strange, colorless dead white hair. The patch itself was startling, almost impossible to look away from. It was sewn with tiny polished beads to give the appearance of a bright blue eye staring straight ahead. Decorative tattooed lines swirled out from beneath the patch, making one side of her face a piece of artwork. I wondered why she drew attention to what others might see as a weakness.

  “Now,” she said.

  I tore my gaze from her unsettling stare and snatched the rough cloth from the floor, holding it up for a better view. “He wants me to wear this?”

  “This isn’t Morrighan.”

  “Nor am I a sack of potatoes.”

  Her single eye narrowed, and she laughed. “You’d be far more valuable if you were.”

  If the Komizar thought this would demean me, he was wrong. I was well beyond nursing any kind of pride now. I threw the cloth over my head. It was loose and difficult to keep on my shoulders, and I had to hold up the excess length to keep from tripping. The coarse fabric scratched my skin. Calantha threw a length of rope at me. “This might help keep things in place.”

  “Lovely,” I said, returning her smirk, and proceeded to tuck and fold the loose fabric as best I could, then secure it with the rope around my waist.

  My bare feet were freezing on the stone floor, but my boots had been taken away, and I didn’t expect to see them again. I tried to suppress a shiver and nodded to indicate I was ready.

  “Be grateful, Princess,” she said, eerily tracing a finger over her sightless jeweled eye. “I’ve seen him do far worse to those who defy him.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  PAULINE

  The last leg of the trip to Civica had been grueling. A driving rain had overtaken us near Derryvale, and we were forced to take shelter in an abandoned barn for three days, sharing our quarters with an owl and a feral cat. Between the two of them, there were at least no rodents. Every day that passed idle made my anxiety grow. Lia was surely in Venda by now if that was where Kaden was taking her. I tried not to dwell on the other possibility—that she was already dead.


  It had all happened so quickly, I hadn’t quite grasped it at the time. Kaden took her. Kaden was one of them. Kaden, whom I had favored over Rafe. I’d actually made the mistake of nudging her in his direction. I had liked his calm demeanor. I had told her his eyes were kind. Everything about him had seemed kind. How could I have been so wrong? It shook me somewhere deep. I had always thought myself a good judge of character, but Kaden was the opposite of kind. He was an assassin. That’s what Gwyneth claimed. How she would know, I wasn’t certain, but Gwyneth had many talents, and pulling illicit information from tavern customers was surely among them.

  We had decided it was safer to stay at an inn in one of the several hamlets just outside the city walls. While no one would know Gwyneth, they’d know me, and I needed to keep my presence hidden until I had at least arranged a meeting with the Lord Viceregent. I was a very visible figure of the queen’s court, and probably facing treason charges myself for helping Lia run away. Of all the cabinet, the Viceregent had always been the kindest to Lia, solicitous, even. He seemed to understand her difficult place in court. If I explained her plight, surely he could break the news to the king in the most advantageous way. What father wouldn’t at least try to save his daughter, no matter how she had defied him?

  I hung back in the shadows with my hood drawn over my head while Gwyneth secured a room for us. I watched her conversing with the innkeeper, though I couldn’t hear what was said. It seemed to take far longer than necessary. I felt a rolling quiver in my belly. It was a constant reminder of how much things had changed, how much time had passed, a reminder of Lia’s promise, we’ll get through this together. A reminder that time was running out. I kissed my fingers and lifted them to the gods. Please bring her back.

  Some paper was passed between Gwyneth and the innkeeper. He eyed me briefly, perhaps wondering why the hood of my cloak was still drawn inside the inn, but he said nothing and finally shoved a key across the counter to Gwyneth.

  The room was at the end of the hall, small, but with far greater comforts than the barn. Nove and Dieci were in the stable and seemed to appreciate having their own quarters and fresh barley to eat too. Money wasn’t a problem. I had traded the jewels Lia gave me for coin in Luiseveque. Even Gwyneth was impressed at how easily I dealt with shady merchants in back rooms, but I had learned it all from Lia.

  When I had shut the door behind us, I asked Gwyneth what had taken so long. Securing a room at Berdi’s was a matter of agreeing on a price and pointing the guest to the room.

  Gwyneth threw her bag on the bed. “I sent a note to the Chancellor requesting a meeting.”

  I caught my breath, unable to speak for a moment. “You what? Against my wishes? I already told you, he hates Lia.”

  She began unpacking, unruffled by my alarm. “I think it might be wiser to nose around through … more discreet channels, before we go straight to the second in power. If the Viceregent proves unhelpful, we’re at a dead end.”

  I looked at her, a chill crawling across my shoulders. It was the second time she had suggested the Chancellor, and now she had gone ahead and acted without my consent. She seemed determined to draw the Chancellor into this. “Do you know the Chancellor, Gwyneth?”

  She shrugged. “Hmm, maybe a little. Our paths crossed some time back.”

  “And you never thought to tell me before now?”

  “I thought you might not take it well, and it seems I was right.”

  I dumped out my bag on the bed and shuffled through the pile, looking for my brush. I brushed my hair briskly, trying to untangle my thoughts, trying to appear in control when I felt anything but. She knew him a little? I didn’t like or trust the Chancellor any more than Lia did. There wasn’t anything about any of this that I liked.

  “I’ve decided. I’m going to go straight to the king,” I said. “You can just stay put.”

  She grabbed my hand, stopping my strokes. “And how would you manage that? March through the citadelle and bang your brush on his chamber door? How far do you think you’d get? Or would you send a note? Everything goes through the Chancellor’s office first anyway. Why not go straight to him in the first place?”

  “I’m certain I can get an audience with the king one way or another.”

  “Of course you can. But don’t forget, you were an accomplice in Lia’s flight. You might very likely be speaking to him from a prison cell.”

  I knew she was right. “If that’s what it takes.”

  Gwyneth sighed. “Noble, but let’s see if we can avoid that. Let’s nose around first.”

  “By talking to the Chancellor?”

  She sat down on the bed and frowned. “Lia didn’t tell you about me, did she?”

  I swallowed, preparing myself for something I didn’t want to know about Gwyneth’s past. “Tell me what?”

  “I used to be in the service of the realm. I was a purveyor of news.”

  “Which means?” I asked cautiously.

  “I was a spy.”

  I closed my eyes. It was worse than I thought.

  “Now, don’t go getting all knotted up. It’s not good for the baby. My being a spy—an ex-spy—isn’t the end of the world. It might even come in handy.”

  Come in handy? I opened my eyes and saw her grinning at me.

  She told me about the Eyes of the Realm, spies of Civica scattered throughout towns and manors in Morrighan, who relayed information back to the seat of power. At one time, she had needed the money and was good at drawing out information from patrons at an inn in Graceport where she cleaned rooms.

  “So you spied for the king?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Maybe. I dealt only with the Chancellor. He—” Her expression darkened. “He was persuasive, and I was young and stupid.”

  Gwyneth was still young. She was only a handful of years older than me. But stupid? Never. She was sly and calculating and irreverent, things I was not. In my gut, I knew her skills could be useful in finding a sympathetic ear, but still I hesitated. I was afraid to be drawn into some network of spies, even if she claimed to no longer be part of it. And what if she still was?

  It was almost as if she could see the thoughts parading through my mind.

  “Pauline,” she said firmly, “you’re probably the most saintly, loyal person I’ve ever met, which can be admirable, but also quite annoying at times. It’s time to knuckle down. No more playing nice girl. Do you want to help Lia or not?”

  The only answer to that was yes.

  No matter what I had to do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The walls closed in, the path seeming to narrow with each footstep. I was led through a dark hall, up two flights of musty stairs, along another hall no wider than arms’ breadth, three turns, then down several steps. The inside of this fortress was as much a maze as it appeared to be from the outside, centuries of architecture mashed together.

  This wasn’t the path back to Sanctum Hall. I felt my heart quicken. Where were they taking me now? My hair was still damp on my shoulders, and my bare feet frigid on the cold floor. I memorized my path, certain it would matter at some point. Everything mattered. Every detail. Every flutter of an eyelash. Of all people right now, I longed for Gwyneth, so smooth in all her movements, and so good at hiding her secrets with a smile—except when it came to things she cared about, like Simone. That was when lies showed on Gwyneth’s face. Even now, I was learning from her. Everything I still cared about had to cease to show on my face.

  On our last turn, we walked down a drafty passageway headed toward a large double door. Its thick black hinges branched out in tangled thorns. The guards knocked, and I heard the heavy slide of a bolt unlatched within. I was thrown forward because the guards seemed to know no other way of releasing prisoners, but this time I was ready and only stumbled.

  I entered a silent room. My gaze fell on Kaden first, his jaw tight, the telltale vein rising on his neck as he took in my new coarse attire. Was it shame or anger I saw flashing through his eyes? But
I also noticed he had bathed—and changed. With his Morrighese disguise discarded, he looked like one of them now, an animal of a different stripe. He wore a loose shirt cut in their style, and a trail of bones hung from his weapon belt. This had been the real Kaden all along.

  And then I saw Rafe. His back was to me, and his hands were shackled behind him with a guard close at his side. I looked away quickly and settled my gaze on the Komizar instead.

  “Perfect timing, Princess,” he said. “Your farmhand just arrived too.” He waved me forward until I was standing near Rafe.

  The Komizar still wore the baldrick, and now Walther’s sword dangled from it too. He grinned as I took it in. I molded my gaze to steel. From this moment forward, I would make my brother’s pillaged goods my strength rather than my weakness.

  He stepped to the center of the room and threw his hands out to his sides. “It’s a historic day in Venda, my brethren. Not one, but two prisoners.” He still spoke in Morrighese, I assumed for our benefit. I didn’t know if Rafe understood Vendan or not. I cursed myself for not asking when we were in the holding room together. Details like this could matter later on. The Komizar turned his attention to me and Rafe. “I hope you both appreciate your good fortune to even be prisoners. It’s a rare privilege—though it may be fleeting.” His voice was playful, his expression almost cheerful. He walked closer to me, lifted a strand of damp hair from my shoulder, then dropped it with distaste. “I already know why you’re here. A royal with a supposed gift that my Assassin believes will be useful to Venda.” He shrugged. “Time will tell.”

  He turned to Rafe. “But, you … tell me why I shouldn’t slice you from gizzard to gut right now and punish the soldiers who didn’t kill you on sight.”

  “Because I have news for you that will benefit Venda.” Rafe’s answer was quick and confident.