Borrowed Magic (22 page)

“I’m afraid you won’t believe it,” she
finally managed. “Just like you didn’t before. Just like Daric
didn’t when I tried to tell him, or Adare when I tried to tell her.
You’re all under some kind of spell.”

He pulled back until he could look into her
eyes. “I’m not under a spell.”

He sounded so certain. “Philip, I know
there’s a spell protecting Teige. No one can believe anything bad
about him. No one can say anything bad about him.”

“And I know I’m not affected.”

“What does this room look like?”

He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“Was everything repaired after the siege? Is
there anything wrong?”

His eyes wandered over the room. “Not that I
can tell.”

“Then you are just as blinded by the spell
as everyone else.” She closed her eyes. “Because nothing has been
repaired. Everything is falling apart.”

He pulled her close. “There are different
kinds of spells. Some affect a person’s ability to think on their
own or, like you said, believe a certain way. Other spells only
affect surroundings, things that are more impersonal. I may be
blinded by the second, but I can assure you I’m not affected by the
first.”

“But how can you be sure?”

His entire body tensed, and for a very long
time he didn’t say anything. “Because I inherited more from my
father than just a physical resemblance. I have some magic.”

He said “magic” as if it was a disease. Then
his face clouded over, just like it had every time she asked him
about those two missing years. And she finally understood why he
wouldn’t talk about them. It had something to do with magic,
something he hadn’t told her.

But then, there were things she hadn’t told
him either. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for the truth. If
he wasn’t under the spell, he might believe her, even be able to
help her.

She looked at him, really looked at him. He
had shadows under his eyes, and his forehead was creased with
worry. Not just for the kingdom. For her.

“All right,” she whispered and let him guide
her over to the sofa.

He sat next to her and took her hands.

“No,” she pulled away. “Not like this. You
have to give me some space. And please don’t interrupt until I’m
done. It’s going to be hard enough as it is.”

He moved to a chair further away and waited,
his gaze burning into her.

She couldn’t return it, couldn’t face him
and say what had to be said. It was too horrible.

He wanted the truth. And that’s exactly what
she gave him. She told him about her shoulder getting worse the
first time Teige took her hand, about how a part of Kern’s magic
was still inside her. She told him about the ring and what she saw,
and who Teige really was. At which point he gasped and tried to
interrupt, but she held out a hand to stop him. She told him about
that first day in the garden when Kern confronted her. She told him
about the pain, the torture, the manipulation, about how Kern was
going to murder Daric. She told him everything. Well, almost
everything. The part where Kern almost killed her after she’d
talked to Philip the first time she left out. He was going to be
upset enough as it was.

“The only good thing is that I’ve found a
way to access the magic in my shoulder,” she ended. “I can use it
to take away the pain – as long as Kern isn’t close enough to sense
it.”

She still didn’t look at him, didn’t want to
see his disgust at what she’d done, at how she’d given in to Kern.
She didn’t want to see the disbelief she was certain was in his
eyes. So she waited. But he didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even
hear him breathe. Desperate for his reaction, she finally dared to
look.

He sat with his head in his hands, his only
movement the slight rise and fall of his back.

“Philip?”

Nothing.

“Philip, please say something. Anything.
Look at me. Tell me you believe me. Tell me you don’t. Are you even
listening?”

His hands dropped, and he slowly raised his
head until their eyes met. She could only stare in surprise as a
single tear traced a line down the side of his face. But that
wasn’t the tone of his body language. He was tense, his hands now
clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, and his lips were
pressed into a thin line.

“I didn’t believe you.” He sounded lost.
“You tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I could have prevented
it. I could have stopped Kern before he had the chance to hurt you
anymore.”

Relief rushed through her. No matter what
happened now, at least Philip knew the truth. Somehow, that
relieved her of a weight she hadn’t realized she carried. Maybe
everything could still be all right. If they could find a way to
stop Kern. Together.

She smiled up at him, but it faded quickly
at his despair. His eyes burned with pain, and sorrow, and
misplaced guilt. Not to mention what he’d just heard about his
father.

She slid her arms around his neck, and he
pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going
to stop him,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

“No,
we’re
going to stop him. I just have
no idea how.”

“I don’t understand how he did it,” Philip
said after a long silence. “I saw him die. Teige, at least the man
I thought was Teige, was standing right next to me.” He paused.
“That means whoever I killed was innocent, trapped under Kern’s
control.”

“No!” she cried, pushing herself out of his
embrace, her mind racing back three years to the night when Kern’s
men almost— “None of Kern’s men were innocent. None of them.”

He grabbed her arms. “What do you mean?” he
growled. “How do you know whether they were innocent or not?”

“I…I…” She shivered. “I was in their camp
the night the siege started. I’d just gotten back from meeting with
the monarchs and snuck in to see if I could discover anything.”

“And?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “And some of the
men confused me for one of the women of the camp.” His hands
tightened on her arms, and she rushed ahead before he could say
anything. “Nothing happened. I escaped before…”

He groaned and pulled her close again. “I’m
sorry. I should have been there.”

“Philip, we have to forget what happened in
the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve finally found a way to
protect myself, to fight him. As long as I can still pretend the
rest of the time that Kern still has total control over me, maybe I
can do something to stop him. And now that you know, and have
magic, you can help me.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No,” he said again, firmer this time. “No
magic.”

“Then we’re going to have to kill him. He’s
not going to stop any other way.”

“And how are we supposed to kill the most
powerful mage who’s ever lived?”

“I don’t know yet, but there is someone who
might be able to help.” She told him about Halef and his agreement
to discover anything he could about the mages who’d trapped Kern
the last time.

“All right,” he said slowly. “So we wait for
Halef. And in the meantime?”

“We have to pretend this conversation never
happened. You still have to be his friend. You have to hate me. The
more convincing you can be, the better, because that’s what Kern
wants. He thinks it will change you, make you feel betrayed and
realize power is the only thing that matters. Flirt with as many
ladies as you can. Shun me.”

“Maren, I can’t. I can’t leave you to face
Kern alone.”

“You have to. If you don’t, if Kern suspects
something, he’ll take everything from me.” Her voice broke. “I
can’t go through that again.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips against
hers. Softly, like she was something fragile. “Can you really take
away your pain? Can you do this without living in torture? Because
I can’t watch that.”

She nodded. “There will still be moments I
have to endure it, when Kern’s around and would sense his magic.
Those times, you’ll have to keep quiet and know it’s temporary. But
the rest of the time? Yes, I can do it.”

“Okay,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll
pretend.”

Twenty-four

Maren
sidestepped another group of people gathered around a grocer’s
stand and worked her way further up the street.

It was harvest celebration. The entire city
had gathered, bringing their crops with them. There was music and
dancing, and Daric always came. He intermingled with his people, he
toasted the farmers, and then he stayed for some of the
festivities. It was one of the most anticipated nights of the
year.

“Maren, I’ve been looking for you
everywhere.” Adare grabbed her by the hand. “Daric is ready to
begin.”

She followed Adare to the center of the
marketplace. It was crowded with people and carts and food. Music
drifted from groups gathered around small fires. The delicious
smells of cooking meat and potatoes permeated the air. Maren had to
remind herself that none of it was real, and that if Kern had his
way, the people wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy their ignorance much
longer.

Adare wove her way between the groups,
addressing some, commenting on the music to others, until they
finally climbed onto a wooden platform where Daric stood with
Philip and Kern. Kern looked like he always did, confident and
charming. Philip stood a little farther away than he would have a
few days ago.

“Teige.” Maren held her hands out to him as
if she needed him to take away the pain.

His magic threaded through her, and she
pretended to sigh in relief.

“I’m so glad you felt well enough to come,”
he said. “Tonight is going to be spectacular. I have a surprise I
think you’ll enjoy.”

She tensed, knowing from experience that
Kern’s surprises weren’t good.

“Welcome!” Daric had begun his speech, and
the pretense had to continue.

When the toasts started, she raised her
glass mechanically with everyone else.

“And now I’ve had a special request. Lord
Teige has his own toast to make.”

A toast?

“I want to thank the king for letting me
speak tonight,” Kern began. “It’s especially gracious of him since
I wouldn’t tell him what I was going to say.”

He looked down at her, and his face was full
of tenderness, even if it was all just an act. Then he reached out
and took her other hand.

She feared she was too late, that whatever
happened at this moment would be something she couldn’t recover
from.

“Today is the best day of my life.” He
smiled and the crowd smiled with him. They wanted to know what he
had to say. They waited for it. “I would like to announce that Lady
Maren has agreed to become my wife.”

The crowd exploded in applause and
cheers.

Maren stood like a statue.
She
had
agreed to
marry him – in those moments after he released her, when she’d have
done anything for sanity. But having to stand in front of the
entire city, Daric and Adare, and Philip…well, that was something
she hadn’t anticipated
.

But she couldn’t say no. The consequences
were too terrifying. She would accept the multitude of
congratulations and pretend she was truly happy.

Kern smiled at her as if he knew exactly
what she was thinking. He probably did. And when the crowd died
down, he picked up a glass. “To Lady Maren, the future Lady Teige,
and the woman I will make my wife.”

“Lady Maren,” the crowd called, almost in
unison.

He drank along with everyone else and then
set his glass down and slipped an arm around her waste. Then his
lips were a whisper away. “Make it believable, Maren.”

Everything in her wanted to push him away.
Instead, she reached her arms around his neck and kissed him.

The crowd cheered. Kern laughed and slipped
his hand into hers. But all she could think about was Philip. She
glanced over and their eyes met. His glass wasn’t raised. He wasn’t
smiling. He just stood there, frozen. Then his brows drew together,
and he pressed his lips into a thin line before disappearing into
the crowd.

“Didn’t you like Philip’s reaction?” Kern
whispered beside her. “After all, it’s what you’ve been working
for. He hates you. He won’t try again.”

Philip didn’t hate her, but he wasn’t happy
either. His performance had looked real – too real. She only hoped
he truly understood why she’d done what she had.

The sun had set,
but the crowd hadn’t thinned. Which wasn’t surprising, considering
there hadn’t been a Harvest Celebration for the past three years.
Maren had danced until her feet hurt and eaten until she couldn’t
eat anymore. And all the time, Kern had kept her pain away. She
hadn’t had to spend a night in agony – at least because of her
injury.

She hadn’t seen Philip since he’d turned his
back on her after Teige’s announcement.

Suddenly, she was tired, deep down tired, as
if every particle of her body was just…weary.

Kern stood a few feet away. He hadn’t let
her out of his sight all night. She moved towards him.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m going back.”

His eyes bore into her, gauging whether she
was telling the truth.

“All right,” he said, and then brought her
hand to his lips.

She tried to repress a shudder but wasn’t
sure she succeeded. Either way, he didn’t react.

“You did well today, Maren. Philip was as
angry as I’ve ever seen him. We’re engaged. You even seemed to
enjoy the evening.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

He smiled, that sinister smile, where the
corners of his mouth widened but didn’t really raise, and the ache
in her shoulder flared. “I didn’t, did I?”

She turned and walked away without a word.
He thought she was completely under his control. He was even
letting her walk back to the castle without him. She’d played her
part well. Philip had played his.