Borrowed Magic (4 page)

It was Philip, devastatingly handsome in
black and silver, with a teasing smile in his eye. “How can the
most beautiful girl in the room not be dancing?” He was ignoring
the claims of other ladies of higher position or years and was
asking her.

If she hadn’t already known she loved him,
she would have then. And he’d called her beautiful.

Something changed that night. They were no
longer childhood friends, running through fields, getting dirty,
getting into even more trouble. They really hadn’t been in a long
time. After all, he was three years her senior. Still, that night
was different. It was the first time he told her he loved her. It
was the first time they kissed.

And here she was again, in the very same
room, dancing with Philip. She should never have agreed, shouldn’t
have even come tonight. True, Philip wasn’t purposefully trying to
hurt her like he had before. Instead, he was being a complete
gentleman: polite, considerate, pleasant. Which might be even
worse. It ignored everything that had happened. There was too much
unsaid.

But now wasn’t the time to dig up the past.
The fact that they weren’t talking was the only thing keeping her
on her feet.

When the dance ended, she pulled herself
from his arms. He didn’t look much more composed than she felt, and
they walked back to their seats in even more silence.

She sank down onto her chair and stared at
her hands. He hesitated and then sat down next to her.

She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on
her face. “Don’t let me keep you, My Lord. There are numerous
ladies trying to catch your eye in hopes you’ll ask them to
dance.”

He frowned. “None of whom inspire in me the
least desire—”

“Just because you’re lucky enough to have
her as your dinner companion,” Teige said, coming up behind them,
“doesn’t mean you get to monopolize her all night.”

She stood a little too quickly and took
Teige’s offered hand. And stiffened. Pressure rushed through her
shoulder and momentarily caused her arm to numb. Pretending her
dress had caught on the chair gave her a few minutes to adjust to
the sensation, and when she turned back to him, she was even able
to smile.

They made their way to the dance floor, and
she concentrated on taking deep, even breaths, and accepting the
pressure that was quickly becoming more. But she couldn’t ignore
the apprehension that had settled in her mind.

She glanced up at Teige, only to find him
staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“Are you all right, Lady Maren?”

She looked away. “Yes, why you do ask?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure. You
seem…tense.”

She managed a small laugh. “It’s probably
just nerves. I don’t like attention, and so far I’ve danced with
the king, Lord Philip, and now you.”

“No one is more deserving.” He gave her his
most attractive smile. “And I’ve been waiting for this dance since
we met.”

She was flattered. He was handsome,
gracious, everything a young man should be. And he wanted to dance
with her. Besides, flirting with him might take her mind off of
Philip. Or make him jealous.

Only she couldn’t deny the increasing pain
when he touched her. It had happened twice now, and it scared her
more than she cared to admit. She couldn’t go back to the pain,
couldn’t live like that again.

His arm circled her waist, and she tried her
best to smile over the pain. She tried to flirt around the unease.
But when the dance was over, she couldn’t let go of his hand fast
enough. And when he escorted her back to her seat, she sat back in
her chair and closed her eyes as the pain and pressure subsided.
She felt empty and exhausted, as if she’d used up every source of
inner energy she had.

“Maren?”

Philip crouched beside her, holding out her
glass. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” She sat up straighter. “I was just
tired for a minute.”

“You don’t look fine.” He slid his chair
closer to hers. “You’re pale.” He watched her bring the cup to her
lips. “And you’re shaking.”

She set the glass back down and folded her
hands in her lap. “I’m fine.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but he
settled further back in his chair and looked out over the
crowd.

She did the same, focusing on Lord Teige,
who was now leading Adare gracefully through the next dance. He
truly was fascinating. His smile, the way he laughed in all the
right places, the ease with which he made new acquaintances. So why
did his touch affect her so strongly?

“He breaks hearts wherever he goes.
Hopefully you’ll manage to escape without damage.”

The way he casually talked about her being
with another man stung deeper than she cared to admit, and any hope
she might have had evaporated. She turned to find Philip watching
her and sat up taller. “I don’t think I’m in any danger.”

He laughed. “That’s what they all say. You’d
never believe the path littered with broken hearts we left
behind.”

She could readily believe it. “How did you
meet?” she asked cautiously.

“He came when word went out that I was
organizing an army to fight my…to fight Kern.” His jaw tightened
for a fraction of a second before he wiped it away with a smile. “I
took one look at him and figured I’d have one more spoiled,
incompetent Lord to deal with.”

“He wasn’t?”

“Spoiled? Completely. Incompetent? Not at
all. He was the best-trained, most knowledgeable man there. He won
the respect of his troops, he was expert with a sword, and he was
more courageous than anyone I’d ever met. It was like he wasn’t
afraid to die.”

“And you became friends?”

“The closest I’ve ever had.”

The almost-physical ache that pierced
through her chest was all too familiar. Even without trying, he was
hurting her. “And what of his background? Where’s he from?”

“Somewhere in the East. I believe he’s a
relative of one of the Eastern lords, but he doesn’t talk about it
much. I think there’s something in his past that’s too
painful.”

She knew exactly how Teige felt, and as she
continued to watch him, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was
hiding – even from Philip.

“Why are the king and queen so sad?”

The question threw her completely off guard
and for a moment she could only stare.

He must have mistaken her surprise for
confusion. “You’d think with the siege ending and Kern dead, they’d
have every reason to rejoice. But a part of them isn’t. The king
hides it relatively well, but there are moments when I can see the
grief in his eyes. The queen tries, but she slips more often.”

“You see more than most.”

He let out a long breath. “I’ve seen a lot
of despair. And felt it.” He lapsed into thought, as if he’d
forgotten where he was. Then he blinked. “But you still haven’t
answered my question.”

“You mean you truly don’t know?”

He shook his head.

It really wasn’t her secret to share. Then
again, all of it wasn’t a secret. “About four months after
you…left, Adare had a baby, a son. He was born early. Adare almost
didn’t survive.” She paused. “Then right before the siege began,
when the baby was only six weeks old, he…” Her voice cracked. “He
died. It broke both their hearts, especially since all the
complications had left Adare unable to have another child.”

For a minute, Philip didn’t say anything.
“They have a right to be sad.”

She could only nod as painful memories
played through her mind like a nightmare.

When the dancers started leaving the floor,
she realized with a start that she’d been sitting in silence for
far too long. She glanced over at Philip, who was watching her with
determination.

“Maren, I…” He swallowed hard, and she
sensed he’d changed his mind about what he was going to say. “I
haven’t seen your father. Is he still living in the castle?”

A fresh wave of pain crashed around her and
she stared in disbelief. Was he mocking her? Had he run out of
patience with being polite? Was he deliberately trying to hurt her
again?

“Maren?”

She stood on legs she hoped would support
her until she could escape. “I’m sorry, My Lord,” she managed in a
voice she couldn’t seem to keep steady. “I can’t…I should…I…” She
pushed herself away from the table and fled, leaving him staring
after her.

A few minutes later, she shut the door to
her room and leaned back against it as the images she’d fought
finally broke through her consciousness. She slid to the floor and
wrapped her arms around her head, trying to forget the past, but it
was no use. The events of that night were still as clear as if
they’d happened yesterday, and she knew she’d never forget…

She paused outside her father’s study.
Someone was with him and his voice sounded oddly familiar, but she
couldn’t place it.

“…
should have known she’d
go to you for help.”

“Yes, you should have,” her father replied.
Even through the door, she could sense his anger. “Especially since
you’d cut her off from everyone she knew. You, who claimed to love
her.”

The other man laughed. “If I remember
correctly, you also claimed to love her. And yet she still chose
me.”

Maren’s eyes widened at the pieces of her
father’s life she’d never known, pieces that were before her
mother, before her.

“The worst decision she ever made,” her
father commented.

“No.” The man’s voice was calm but there was
something dangerous beneath the surface. “Leaving me was the worst
decision she ever made. And the reason she’s dead.”

Maren suddenly knew why the voice was so
familiar. She’d heard it only once, a few weeks earlier. Kern. The
man responsible for Philip being gone and her life crumbling. And
he was with her father.

Panic seized her, gripping her heart in its
claws. She pushed against the door, but although the knob turned,
the door wouldn’t move. Something else was holding it closed,
something beyond what she could see or touch. She pounded until her
fists were numb, but it made no difference.

“It sounds as if our time is up,” Kern
commented and she heard something crash to the floor.

A second later, a strangled cry that tore at
every piece of her rent the air, and she fell to her knees.

Not another sound came from the room, but
when she desperately banged against the door again, it creaked
open.

Kern was nowhere to be seen, but her father
was face down on the rug. She stumbled forward and rolled him onto
his back. All she could do was stare, as if her eyes couldn’t be
seeing what was right in front of her. Then she screamed, bending
over his body and pressing her face against his. For she couldn’t
look anymore. His chest was scorched black, as if he’d been burned.
Which she guessed he had. Only it wasn’t by fire. It was by
magic.

The horror of it engulfed her, holding her
body hostage. She didn’t understand what had happened. She couldn’t
think. Everything was wrong. Philip…and now her father… She needed
to do something. Kern was—

Her mind snapped out of its numbness. She
pulled herself away from her father’s body and fumbled towards the
door. Kern was in the castle. And no matter what had just happened,
her father wasn’t his target. She had to get to Daric. To warn him.
Without even looking back, she ran…

Less than an hour later, she ducked into an
open doorway and wrapped her trembling arms even tighter around the
baby. Then she pulled her hood over her face and tugged her cloak
around both of them. It only muffled his tiny cries.

Something crashed behind her, and she heard
a man howl in pain.

She peeked into the hallway and then started
running. She needed to keep the prince safe. Nothing else mattered.
Not even her own suffocating pain at her father’s murder. She had
to push it away. When the baby was safe, then she could fall
apart.

Footsteps pounded behind her, closer this
time, and she veered down a side hallway and headed towards the
main doors of the castle. Just a few more turns and she’d be—

The wall to her left suddenly collapsed, the
explosion so deafening her ears rang, and she had to struggle for
balance.

“I believe you have something I want.”

Kern stepped from the rubble, and she
shivered as the darkness around him enveloped her. Then he held out
his hand.

“Give me the child.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
Kern should have gone after Daric. She pulled Justin closer, as if
that could protect him. Either the baby was Kern’s target all
along, or Daric was already dead.

Her eyes darted three feet to her right, to
where another hall led back the way she’d come. It was her only
hope.

She clutched the child tighter. And ran.

Lights flashed around her, walls crumbled,
and the ground shook, but she didn’t stop. Not even when a chunk of
stone hit the back of her head and blood trickled down her neck.
Not even when she didn’t think she could possibly take another step
and her lungs burned for air. Not even when something evil and
magical grazed her side. She concentrated only on running, looking
for somewhere she could hide, somewhere they would be safe…

She clapped a hand over her mouth, hoping to
muffle her sobs. She didn’t want to remember any more. She
couldn’t. Not tonight. She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled
to the bed, but she forced herself to stay awake. Even that was
better than what she faced the minute she closed her eyes.

Three

Maren sat on a bench in a
little-known corner of the palace gardens. She needed to be alone,
away from…everything. Only it wasn’t helping. She was as lost as
ever – lost about Philip, lost about her role now that the siege
was over, lost about the future. She had no idea how to live in the
same place as Philip, let alone the same castle. It might be big,
but it wasn’t big enough. There was no avoiding him. Or Lord Teige
– something she was becoming more and more convinced she needed to
do.