Dragon's Heart (19 page)

“It would seem that Lady Harlowe of Lakeshire has returned to her province and her duties.” The new king’s voice echoed through the empty chamber.

“How?” Katia hissed, whispering so low that Killian was certain she hadn’t meant to be heard.

“She sends her heartfelt condolences,” the king continued, “and remembers the late queen as a wise and fair ruler. Lady Harlowe also sends her regrets. An illness has her confined to her bed in Lakeshire and healers have forbidden travel. Therefore, she cannot pay her respects in person.” The king turned his gaze on Ryan. “The crown thanks Lady Harlowe for her kind words of sympathy at this difficult time and wishes her a speedy recovery. We are…” the king paused, the silence hanging in the air for longer than was comfortable, “anxious for her return to our court.” Some among the assembled nobles shifted on their feet, or fanned themselves a little too hard, waiting for the king’s continuance.

Killian listened to his father’s words in a daze, his breath catching in his throat, a loud buzzing filling his ears. He thought he might have stepped outside himself, watching as his father pronounced the official mourning was concluded. Leaning heavily on a cane, the king made his slow, painful way out of the room.

“Killian, love?” Katia’s voice broke through the fog after the door leading to the king’s chambers closed.

“Yes?” he answered, voice sounding flat and dead to his own ears. Katia wrapped her fingers around Killian’s forearm. He pulled free, feeling his flesh crawl under her touch.

“Will you dine with me this evening, my love?” Her voice was all sugary sweetness, dripping with ill-concealed desire.

“No, my lady. I will retire to my rooms and spend the night in quiet contemplation.” He started making his way out of the room, Ryan falling into step beside him at the base of the dais. Neither of them spoke as they walked through the castle to Killian’s apartments. Along the way, the prince stopped to speak with several courtiers, giving each his full attention for the time he spoke to them. Throughout the palace, everyone knew Killian had taken on more royal duties than his predecessors, and many of the court sought out the prince’s aid and counsel. After what seemed like hours, Killian walked into his sitting room and waited until Ryan closed the door.

“Killian,” Ryan said.

“She’s alive.” The words came on an exhalation and Killian sank into the chair in front of the fireplace. “When?”

“A messenger from Lakeshire arrived a short time before I addressed the court.”

“Where is she? I have to get to her.” Killian snatched his coat from the chair and stepped toward the door.

Ryan stopped the prince and put a hand in the center of his chest. “Killian, you can’t.” With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the last of the three letters from Serena. “She wrote you a letter. I believe you should read it before you do anything else.”

Killian took the letter, staring at the rose seal pressed into the red wax with a slight golden sheen sparkling in the light of the fire. Dread flooded his heart. He broke the wax and unfolded the parchment. Killian turned and walked away from Ryan to read in private.

Katia stalked through the halls of the castle, ignoring the couriers who tried to catch her attention. She hissed insults and threats to any servants who came within a few feet of her, sending more than one maid or footman scurrying for the shelter of the servant’s quarters. The prince’s betrothed stormed into her chambers, slamming the door behind her. With a scream of rage and frustration, she threw her fan across the room. It hit the edge of a table and shattered.

“Is there a problem?” Jeffery asked, the dark circles under his eyes appearing like bruises.

“The Dragon Fey bitch lives.”

“Impossible, the men I sent—” Jeffery began, but Katia stepped up to him and hissed.

“Have not been heard from in nearly a month.” Her hand found a small bottle of liquid and without looking she launched it at the wall, a grimace twisting her features into something bordering on the grotesque.

Jeffery sighed, her glamor was slipping, and he knew better than to berate her for it. He needed answers, not a spoiled brat’s tantrum. “Why haven’t you sent anyone to see why they haven’t responded to your queries?”

“Because,
father
, I have been doing everything in
my
power to keep the prince’s attention now that I have him trapped.” She paced the perimeter of the room, picked up the tiara Killian’s valet had delivered the day after their betrothal was announced. The gift was delicate, understated, an excellent example of the master artisan’s craft. The gems winked in the flickering light of the candelabra as she twisted it in her hands. The tiara had been expected, not an actual, meaningful gift. The metal contorted and after a moment snapped, and she threw the pieces across the room.

“You cannot allow yourself to become distracted,” Jeffery counseled, keeping his voice calm. “Maintain your focus on the prince. I will leave in the dark of the night to discover what has happened to the men.”

“The whelp has either escaped, or she somehow managed to kill the buffoons who were charged to hold her. She’s now back in Lakeshire, plotting my downfall. I am certain of it.”

“I cannot go immediately because I do not want to depart while most of the court is still awake.”
I am supposed to be dead. Little do the foolish humans know. It is not a simple matter to kill us.
He stood and approached where Katia stood by the fire and stepped up behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “Rest assured, daughter, I will take care of the whelp. She will no longer be a threat to your impending marriage. While I am gone, convince the new king your wedding day must be moved up. Say you are concerned about his failing health and the stability of the realm, or that you think Killian is seeking a way to break the contract. I don’t care how, but the sooner the union is cemented, the better.”

“Yes,
Father
.” Katia rolled her eyes and walked into her bedchamber, slamming the door and throwing the bolt in place behind her.

Killian finished reading the letter, his fingers caressing the lines of her flowing hand, including the signature and flourish beneath it. The message was genuine. Serena was alive. “She’s ill?” he asked, repeating information from her note, needing to hear confirmation from a second source.

“According to her messenger, she is too ill to travel, and the healers can’t be certain when she will be well enough,” Ryan said, sticking to the information Serena had shared with both of them.

“I have to go see her.” He stood and took a couple steps toward the door.

“You cannot.”

Ryan’s words stopped Killian in his tracks. “I am the prince. Why can’t I go see the woman I love or one of the provincial governors of the kingdom I will someday rule?” Killian folded the letter and set it on his desk. He would hide it with every other letter she’d sent or given him, once he was alone.

“Your Highness, she does not want to risk your heath.”

“My health be damned, Ryan. If I do not do something, I will be married to Katia within a few months. I cannot marry another, especially that woman, knowing Serena is alive. I can’t.” He reached up before remembering Serena’s rings were no longer on the chain around his neck.

“Killian, you must trust her. Have faith she knows what she’s doing.”
I pray she does because Gods know I don’t.
“I know she would be cross with you and blame herself if you took ill.”

Killian sank into his chair and sighed. “Of course, you’re right. Can I get a message to her?”

“Yes.”

“Will you carry it?”

“No. Her messenger is staying at the Bell for a couple of days. Serena has asked her to carry any messages back when she leaves.”

“Thank you. I will have something for you tomorrow. Then I have to start working to find a way out of my impending marriage.”

“There may not be one, Highness.” Ryan sighed. “The agreement has been signed. Breaking it would anger not only Katia and her clan but several other provincial governors. I know you love Serena. I know this marriage is difficult, but it must be done.”

“Are you saying I should let Serena go?”

“I’m saying you need to accept you are contracted to and will marry Katia. Once Serena is well enough to travel, she will return from Lakeshire. Then the two of you will talk and figure out where the situation leaves your relationship. I am sorry, Killian, but she cannot rescue you this time. She has to save herself.”

Killian’s shoulders slumped, and his chin dropped to his chest. “Thank you for bringing me this news.” He picked up the letter, turned and walked into his study, closing the door behind him.

S
erena followed
Altus through the keep, wondering where they were going. She didn’t remember this part from their initial tour, but something about it was eerie and familiar at the same time as if memories were just out of reach. Her pace slowed as her fingers brushed the rough stone wall on her right. 

A vision of three young men at the end of the long corridor flashed before her eyes. Two of the men looked alike except for their mismatched eyes. The other darker man sat on the floor, his back against the wall as he sharpened a dagger with a whetstone.

Serena stopped and covered her eyes while leaning against the wall. She was getting used to seeing images from the past though she usually had more warning. Taking deep, controlled breaths, she waited for something to happen, but in a moment, the men faded away. She took three more cleansing inhales, letting them out over several seconds as she reoriented herself with her surroundings. Ahead of her, Altus still walked, not noticing she was no longer a short distance behind.

“Altus?” she called out to her advisor.  

He paused and turned to face her. His brow pulled down, questioning.

“Where are we?” 

Her advisor strolled back to where she stood. “The royal wing, Highness.” 

“Really?”

“Yes.” He nodded and offered her his arm as she pushed away from the wall, once again steady on her feet. “Your new quarters have been prepared.” 

“What’s wrong with the quarters I am in?” She linked her arm with his, curling her hand around his forearm for added support.

Altus chuckled, and they resumed their stroll down the corridor. “They are not fitting for someone of your rank, Highness.” 

“Why?”

“They are too small.” Altus shook his head and finished his statement, “The rooms are not properly appointed and, perhaps most importantly, they are in the guest wing. As a member of the royal family, your quarters are in the royal wing.” They stopped in front of a pair of ornate doors.

Serena’s heart sank. Any illusions she had about the suite being modest shattered when he released her arm and stepped forward, shoving the heavy double doors open.

“Your Highness, the queen’s suite.” 

“Queen’s?”

He nodded, “You are the heir. We wish to convey a sense of confidence to the council.” 

“Where I live does that?” she asked with a note of incredulity in her voice.

“Of course, it does, Highness.” He stepped aside and let her drift into the suite.

She fought to keep her mind focused on the present while specters of the past teased her memory. Her belongings, brought over from the guest wing, were placed around the room with care, adding a feeling of permanence to the situation. 

Serena shook herself, not wanting to get lost in memories or even worse, thoughts of Killian. “When is the meeting with my councilors?” she asked, fighting to get the words past the lump in her throat. 

“At the thirteenth hour, Highness.” 

“Which is in?” Serena asked. It had been several hours since her morning training session with Siobhan. She had once again lost track of time while studying in the library. 

“A little less than an hour, Highness.” 

“Very well. Is there anything else that requires my attention before the meeting?” 

“No, Highness. With your permission, I will send Lady Bronwynn to fetch you when it is time.” 

Serena nodded, her fingers trailing over the back of a chair as she meandered farther into the suite.

“Your Highness, do you require more of me before I take my leave?” 

“No, thank you,” she said, settling in behind her desk and pulling a large book closer.

Serena sat behind her desk, the book open in front of her. She was having trouble staying focused on what was written. Her mind elsewhere. For the upcoming meeting with the councilors, Altus had instructed her on the proper protocols, and what was expected of her. She felt confident she could perform the tasks he’d laid out. However, something she couldn’t name kept teasing her memory. Whatever it was, made her second and third guess herself. As she began reading one paragraph for the fourth time, someone tapped on her door.

“Thank the Gods,” she muttered, closing the book. “Enter.” Glancing down, she realized she hadn’t marked her place.
Not that it matters, I will have to start over anyway.

“Your Highness.” Bronwynn stepped into the room and bobbed a quick curtsy. Serena didn’t answer, simply giving the Dragon Fey woman a stern look, waiting. “Serena,” the other woman amended with a half-smile.

“Bronwynn, how can I help you?” She pushed the book aside, giving her full attention to her friend.

“I came to see why you’re not at the meeting of the councilors.”

“Altus informed me the meeting was at the thirteenth hour.”

“Were you joining a session already in progress?”

“Not that I know of,” Serena said, frowning, “why?”

“They are meeting right now, my lady.”

“I’ve learned much in my time here, but there is always more to study. Tell me, is there a way to observe the council without them knowing? I would like very much to hear what they are discussing during my absence.”

“You think they’re planning something?”

“I don’t know. They were my mother’s advisors. That does not mean they were loyal to her or will be to me.”

“There is a hidden room off the small audience chamber. It can be accessed without those in the room knowing. You will be able to observe all that’s taking place in the chamber.”

“Show me.”

“As you wish,” Bronwynn said turning to make her way out of the room, Serena close on her heels. A short time later, the pair paused beside a tapestry. Bronwynn lifted it to reveal a hidden passage.

“Go down this corridor and take the first left. It will lead you to a door. That’s the room. I will come and fetch you in time for you to meet with the council at the thirteenth hour.” She reached to her left and pulled a small candle from the sconce on the wall before handing it to the princess.

Serena took the candle, holding her free hand over the flame to shield it from sudden drafts. “Thank you.” She stepped through the opening and set out down the hall. Following Bronwynn’s directions, she opened the door to the hidden room within a few minutes. Pausing at the door, she blew out the candle before entering. What appeared to be the far wall was a cleverly disguised screen, and as promised, she could see and hear what was happening in the small audience chamber beyond.

“She was raised as a human. How can she rule our people according to our traditions?” an older man with red and black markings around his eyes demanded.

“I have been instructing her in our ways,” Altus answered, his voice calm and even. “The princess is a quick study, my lords, and ladies. She has a curious mind and does not shy away from asking questions or admitting when she does not know something.”

“My people are worried about the influence the humans will have over her.” This was from a woman with green markings around her eyes. “Rumors say she holds to their religion and is involved with a human.”

“As the days pass and she spends more time with our people, the human influence will fade. Give her time, my lords and ladies.”

“What of the human lover?”

“There is a human boy she’s infatuated with. I will admit he is a…” Altus paused as though he was searching for the right way to say what he wanted, “complication, however, with time, I am certain she will be made to see reason and settle down with a suitable mate.”

“Has she bonded with the boy?”

“I cannot say. However, if that is the case, I am certain they both can be made to see reason. Her mate will be one of our choosing so he will follow our instructions or lose out on the chance to be a consort.”

“You assume the princess will acquiesce to your demands. She is Ellesandra and Rafe’s daughter. I’m afraid I don’t have the same faith you do,” a woman with blue markings interjected.

“There are always ways to make someone more compliant.”

“And you have found these ways?”

“I believe so.”

The smile that curled Altus’s lips made Serena’s blood run like ice in her veins. She practiced every patience and control exercise she learned throughout her years of studying swordplay.
It’s just like the human Court. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different.
The urge to run as fast as she could back to Haven, the only life she’d known, filled her.
Let them rot, and fade away. I owe them nothing. They knew for years. They knew, and still they left me blind and dumb and alone in the human court. I owe them nothing.

“What of the Dark Fey influence? She was held by them for weeks. How can we know she hasn’t been corrupted?”

Dark Fey? What? It was Dennsmore and his thugs. All humans.

“The mastermind behind her abduction was Dark Fey. The men who carried it out and held the princess were not. There have been no signs of corruption.”

“Why not say there has been?” the man with the red and black markings said as he broke in again. “You were the only one of us who saw these men, Altus. It will be your word against hers. We make the declaration before the people get to know her.” He waved his hand in the air. “She is exiled. She is free to return to the human court. We continue to govern until her majority passes when we put a suitable Dragon Fey-raised lady on the throne, one who is eminently biddable, thus life goes on as normal.

“The house of Arryan has ruled our people for Seven generations,” Altus countered. From her hiding place, Serena saw a flash of fear in his eyes.

“Perhaps it is time for change.”

Chaos erupted in the chamber. Men and women arguing. Shouting over one another. All except for one young man, not much older than Serena. He sat in a chair on the left side of the table, watching the others with an almost bored expression on his face.

As if he could feel Serena’s gaze on him, the young man looked in her direction and winked, before turning his gaze back to the arguing lords and ladies.

Disgusted and nursing a feeling of betrayal, the princess turned and walked out of the room closing the door silently behind her. She stalked through the passage and stepped out from behind the tapestry just as the trio rounded the corner into the corridor. Serena paused and looked both ways down the hallway, her fists clenched at her sides. “Which way is the audience chamber?” she demanded.

“Your Highness?” Bronwynn stepped forward, keeping her voice low and calming.

“Where is it?” Her eyes blazed with anger, and her left hand went for a hilt that wasn’t there.

“I take it you did not like what you saw?”

“They mean to turn me into a puppet if they do not remove me from my mother’s throne altogether.”

“I was afraid this would happen,” Bronwynn said, shaking her head.

“Explain yourself.” Serena appeared and sounded every inch an angry monarch.

“Since your family’s death, the councilors have, in effect, been ruling our people. Once you reach your majority and take the throne, you will be able to replace them. They are afraid of losing their power. Worse yet, they’re about to forfeit it to an untried girl.”

“If this was their plan, why not just allow me to return to Haven? Why work so hard to convince me to remain?”

“You were an unknown, princess. They wanted, and are waiting, to see what you are like. Whether or not you can be manipulated.”

Serena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t want this. I want to return to the life I was ripped away from.” She paused. “Can I walk away?”

“Princess.” Siobhan stepped forward, reaching for one of the blades she wore on her back. “That would not be wise.”

“Why? Have our people been suffering under the councilors?”

“They have not.”

“Then why should I remain?”

“I served with your father.” Siobhan drew the blade from its sheath and laid it across her upturned palms. “I was part of the party that found the remains of the massacre.” She offered Serena the sword. “This was your father’s. I found it in the remains of the royal tent. You should have it.”

“Thank you,” Serena murmured as she accepted the blade, turning it over in her hands, examining it.

“Your parents loved you. They loved your brothers. They loved our people. They gave the last of their magical strength to ensure you would be safe. I knew your parents well enough to say they could have healed themselves with their magic. They chose to hide you from our enemies instead. They wanted you to live. To take the throne.”

Serena stared at the sword in her hands, turning Siobhan’s words over in her mind. No one spoke for several long minutes, the silence stretching beyond the point of comfort.

“Your Highness, it is almost thirteenth hour. We must go if you wish to address the councilors on time,” Bronwynn said, breaking the silence.

“Siobhan?” She waited until the other woman acknowledged her with a nod before continuing. “Do you have a sword belt I can use?”

“Your Highness, bearing weapons in the presence of the council is simply not done,” Bronwynn interjected as Siobhan removed her sword belt, and slid the blade from its sheath.