Caller of Light (33 page)

His lips brushed across her cheek causing a fire to ignite in her belly. Desire, swift and hot, wove through her. He released her, but his impact rippled through her like an unending wave. Remembering they weren’t alone, her cheeks flamed. Except for Marissa, whose mouth hung open, no one else acknowledged the possessive display.

Marek’s attention was meant to calm her, but it had the opposite effect. Although she doubted anyone noticed, the tension rolling off his shoulders vibrated through the air. She wanted to wrap her arms around his waist and hold him close, to shield him with her body and ease his distress. But for now, they seemed destined to play the part Father and Villar had scripted for them. So, when Marek stepped away and motioned for Villar and Father to sit, she turned to Marissa.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes.” Marissa smiled, her eyes glittering.

As she led Marissa from the room, the image of a white-footed lemming being lured into a venomous urutu pit popped into her mind.

42 – HIDDEN MEANINGS

Since the queen mother had made it clear that the castle fell under her jurisdiction, Carina rushed through the indoor tour by sticking to the main hallways and avoiding the upper floors. Only when they were outside on neutral ground did she relax, grateful to have avoided Nareen altogether.

They strolled in silence, following a cobbled path toward the Criton barns. Carina inhaled the lilac and amaryllis infused spring air as a mild breeze ruffled her hair and whispered through the leaves. At first, the peace soothed her mind. But gradually the silence grew too silent. Instead of calming her, the quiet grated on her nerves.

By now Marissa should’ve been fully engrossed in the wondrous details of court life as queen and the unfortunate disappointment Carina must feel because of her status as mistress. With every murmured rustle of a leaf, every soft twitter from a tanager, every muted crunch of their feet on the pebbled path, the stillness taunted her. Unable to resist the challenge, Carina’s curiosity overrode better judgment. Although she couldn’t believe her ears, she opened the topic of conversation.

“So, how did you meet King Remy?”

“Oh, he started courting after King Duncan left,” Marissa said with a shrug.

That was it? Nothing more?
“So, what is it like being queen? Are Villar’s holdings substantial?”

“Being queen is everything I’ve always imagined it to be,” Marissa gushed while smoothing out the front of her velvet, green dress. “And Villar’s holdings are more elaborate than King Duncan’s.” She waved her hand in the air to emphasize Marek’s meager estate.

By her condescending manner, Carina could see the beginnings of the old Marissa peeking through her veil of silence. For the next few minutes, Marissa bragged about the holdings under Villar’s control and the improvements he’d made in anticipation of additional Critons settling on his lands. But as Carina listened, she got the impression that Marissa was intentionally keeping the discussion light or inconsequential.

They had reached a small grove of poppy trees. A wood bench rested underneath the canopy, looking over a vast meadow. Although she would’ve continued walking to the barns, with a flourish Marissa plopped down on the bench, muttering something about the heat. She looked up at Carina and patted the empty space next to her. “Sit.”

Carina hesitated, and ignored the unease brewing in her stomach. A small herd of gambels grazing in the meadow caught her attention as she dropped onto the bench. She very much wished she could be flying toward that herd on Critonback instead of sitting beside Marissa.

“You seem to have many Critons?”

Carina’s mind snapped into focus. “Marek has been very fortunate.” She shrugged, not willing to divulge the secret she kept hidden on the palm of her hand.

“Villar thought I was the Caller when he married me. But of course, I can’t summon those dreadful beasts.”

Carina stifled an involuntary gasp. “Why did he think that?”

Marissa stared at her with cold, calculating eyes as if studying her like a bug under a magnifying glass. “Because up until you left, our lands were known for their abundance of unbonded Critons.” She raised an eyebrow? “Didn’t you realize that?”

Carina shook her head as a rising panic clawed at the back of her mind. Self-preservation urged her to be careful. The air that had smelled so sweet moments before turned sour.
She had to know the real reason for Father’s arrival.

“Marissa, we’ve never been close.” She overlooked Marissa’s snort of confirmation. “So, why are you here?”

“Villar is disappointed I’m not the Caller.”

“But he can’t blame you for that.”

“No, but he can blame Father who said I was. Villar gave Father a large amount of land in exchange for my hand. Now, he feels cheated and has threatened to go to war.”

Carina’s marked hand flew to her chest. “But you’re his wife. Isn’t the love you feel for each other enough?”

“He doesn’t love me.”

The icy bitterness in Marissa’s voice chilled Carina’s blood.

“So no, I’m not enough.” Marissa fixed her stark, blue eyes on Carina. When Carina held her gaze, Marissa’s bravado evaporated. Marissa’s lower lip trembled and she brushed away a tear before glancing away.

Carina paused. She’d never seen Marissa cry before, at least not with authentic tears. But this time Marissa seemed to be in real pain. “Is there something you wish to discuss?” she asked.

Marissa bit her lip. With a fresh set of tears rimming her eyes, she placed a hand on Carina’s arm. “Do you love your life here with Marek?”

Carina drew back, stunned. She never expected Marissa to ask such a question, let alone care about the answer. But Marissa was looking at her with such wide-eyed anticipation, she felt compelled to reply. “I do.”

Marissa’s face crumpled. “Oh.”

Carina stared at Marissa’s hand. The ostentatious rings on her fingers glittered in the sunlight. Her tailored dress and immaculate appearance embodied royalty. She was a perfect example of wealth and status, living a life Carina thought Marissa always dreamed about.

“You don’t like being queen?”

Marissa lips turned down. She sighed and looked at the ground. “Oh, I love being queen,” she mumbled. “It’s just what I expected, except…” She folded her hands together and placed them on her lap.

Carina leaned forward, encouraging her to answer. “What?”

“He can be so…rough.”

Carina shook her head, not understanding.

Marissa twisted an emerald ring on her finger. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “On our wedding night, he didn’t even bother taking off my gown.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a green handkerchief that appeared from a fold in her dress. “And I loved that gown, full of lace and beads. Afterwards, the dress was ruined.” She glanced at Carina and blushed.

“I’m sorry, Marissa.” Carina placed a reassuring hand on Marissa’s shoulder. If Marek hadn’t been gentle, her first time at the pools could’ve been full of regret.

“‘Tis nothing, really.” Marissa smiled, composing herself. “But he’s an animal when it comes to that and I find myself exhausted most of the time because he’s eager to have children.” A teasing smile pursed her lips. “Marek has
taken you to his bed, yes?”

Dread filled Carina’s gut. She had no intention of discussing private matters, and busied herself by brushing away some unseen speck of dirt from her blouse, trying to formulate an answer. “Well, um—”

“Oh, Carina, you’re so modest,” Marissa exclaimed. “Of course he has, you’re his mistress after all. That’s good, because you’re experienced now.” She settled into the bench, fluffing her dress like a hen ruffling her feathers, content with the knowledge she’d just gained.

The tiny hairs on the back of Carina’s neck bristled. Somehow, she had divulged a vital bit of information without knowing it. She tilted her head and studied Marissa. Marissa glowed with her newly acquired wisdom.

“Marissa, we both know that you have no interest in me, unless it benefits you in some way. So, just tell me. Why are you here?”

Marissa glanced up through her eyelashes. Although mostly hidden beneath her brows, the glint in her eyes stilled Carina’s heart. Anxiety crawled up her spine. She no longer wished to hear Marissa’s response. But for once, Marissa answered.

“Father is a smart man. When the Critons started leaving, he realized you were the reason his lands were populated with so many of those filthy creatures. Father told this to Villar and together they’ve come to take you back.” Marissa’s lips twitched up at the edges. “You’re to become Villar’s mistress,” she clucked.

“No!” Carina jumped to her feet. “Marek won’t agree.”

“Are you sure?” Marissa extended a hand out in front of her and studied her painted fingernails. The long, red nails reminded Carina of a griffon’s claws, bloodied after ripping into dead carrion.

“I’m sure.”

Marissa spoke with a confidence that fostered the growing knot in Carina’s stomach. “If Marek refuses, then Father and Villar will declare war against him. Together they’re a formidable team. And since Marek stands little chance of winning, I suspect he’d most likely die in battle. Could you live with yourself? If Marek dies?”

The air rushed from Carina’s lungs. She stood frozen, unable to move. She must’ve had a horrified expression on her face because Marissa’s tone softened when she glanced up to look at her.

“Oh Carina, it won’t be so bad. But this is your fault, you know. We wouldn’t be in this predicament if Marek had chosen me. Now, we must make the best out of what fate has handed us.

Marissa shrugged. “I suppose I love Villar, but since he can be so…” she paused, searching for the right word, “…demanding, it’ll be nice to have you as a distraction so I can take care of the more important matters of the castle.” She stood and brushed a hand down her dress. “As you attend to my husband, I will attend to affairs more befitting a queen.”

Tears loomed in Carina’s eyes, but she refused to cry in front of Marissa. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Marissa underestimated her. She was no longer the submissive, little mixed blood girl cowering in a corner seeking acceptance. “How did you become so cruel?”

Marissa’s face clouded. “You better respect your new queen, or I’ll make your life very unpleasant.”

Carina held her ground, refusing to apologize as years of torment at Marissa’s hands surfaced. She’d always deferred to Marissa, hoping that if she was nice, she’d someday earn Marissa’s love. But now as she looked into Marissa’s powered face, Carina could only see a selfish, coldhearted person.

Relief washed through her, cleansing her of a dark insecurity she’d carried with her all her life. Marissa would never accept her and there was nothing she could do to change that simple fact. Her heart swelled when she realized that she didn’t care anymore. Because she’d found Marek, someone to love, and who loved her in return. No matter how large the estate Marissa presided over as queen, or the expensive dresses she owned, or the quality of her possessions, Carina would always have so much more. Carina smiled, at peace with herself.

Marissa’s eyes narrowed, squinting in uncertainty. “Why are you smiling?”

“I forgive you, Marissa. I forgive you for the way you treated me while growing up.”

Marissa shook her head in confusion. “What are you muttering about?”

A whisper brushed across Carina’s mind, distracting her. She scanned the surrounding area, but the presence disappeared as soon as it touched her. She would’ve dismissed it, except she recognized the feeling, as if Marek had reached across the distance between them and called to her. Panic gripped her heart. She spun and raced toward the castle.

Marissa’s shrill voice pierced the air. “It’s too late, Carina! There’s nothing you can do!”

43 – TRUTH BE TOLD

Regin sauntered over to a bank of windows overlooking the grounds. “You have many unbonded Critons.”

Marek stepped beside Regin, but kept King Remy within sight. Villar refilled his goblet and settled into his chair. Although Villar remained quiet, he appeared very interested in the conversation.

“My lands are accommodating for Critons.”

“But they’re more accommodating since Carina’s arrival, yes?”

Marek lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “I haven’t noticed.”

Regin’s lips twisted upward. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve come to take her home.”

“We have an agreement.”

Regin turned away from the windows to face Marek. “Of course. And you’ll be compensated for any inconvenience. Now, have a servant pack Carina’s belongings.”

Marek’s hand twitched, longing for his sword so he could run a blade through Regin’s gut to end the man’s useless blathering. “And if I refuse?”

Villar spoke in a matter-of-fact tone as if reciting a pledge. “We’ll declare war. We’ll burn your lands, kill your men, and drive you from your home. Then, we’ll take Carina.”

Marek assessed the man who had just threatened him. Villar swirled the ale in his goblet with a relaxed twist of his wrist. His body posture remained subdued as his long legs draped across the small table in front of him, his dark eyes revealing nothing. While Regin would appoint a champion to fight for him, Villar seemed capable of handling his own battles. Marek decided not to underestimate him.