Authors: Emily Ann Ward
Tags: #fantasy, #young adult, #epic fantasy, #fantasy romance, #high fantasy, #ya fantasy, #young adult fantasy, #emily ann ward, #the protectors
Yesterday, the two of them had gone riding around the
castle grounds. Ronu had followed them, of course. They hadn’t
uttered one word about Gregorio or Avialies or Protectors. Instead,
Grace had asked her all about Dar as a child, as a teenager, and
Sashe had told her stories about Shyra until Grace’s parents had
shown up to the castle.
“Of course. How are your parents?” Sashe asked.
Grace shrugged a shoulder, picking at a spot on her
skirt. “My mother chooses to ignore the facts, and my father is
still worried about me. He wants me to come home.”
“Why don’t you go?”
Grace glanced at Ronu in the corner, than met Sashe’s
eyes. Sashe waved her hand. “King Thomas has told him
everything.”
“There are plenty of things King Thomas doesn’t know
about his son,” Grace said shortly.
Sashe frowned. “What is he doing now?”
“It doesn’t matter what it is. It’s working. I’m not
going anywhere. Yet.”
“He’s not… your parents?”
“He would deny it if anyone asked him, even me, but I
know that if I left… and you…”
Sashe straightened. “And me what?” Her voice
sharpened.
Grace met her eyes, a spark of fear on her face. “I’m
sorry, Sashe, I—”
“That arrogant bastard. If he touched me—”
“I know, I told him you were too valuable, but he
doesn’t seem to care.”
Sashe glanced at Ronu. His gaze was on her, and he
didn’t look away. His eyes held hers, and for the first time, she
was grateful to Thomas for assigning him to her. She turned back to
Grace. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Listen, I’m sure your bodyguard is capable, but the
prince—”
“Lady Sashe.”
Ronu’s deep voice made both of them jump. Sashe
looked over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows. “He speaks.”
“If you believe you’re in danger, it’s my duty to
speak to his Majesty,” Ronu said. “He requested to know everything
that may put your life at risk.”
“But if you tell him,” Grace said, her voice
bordering on desperate, “it’s going to sound like I ran to him for
protection. It will only make William angry.”
“You won’t tell King Thomas,” Sashe said. “I’m sure
the prince was speaking out of passion. He feels so strongly for
Grace.”
Grace made a face.
Sashe met her eyes, the back of her head to Ronu
again. “If he says something again, please tell me, and we’ll tell
King Thomas. But otherwise, we must assume that Prince William
would never put my life in danger.”
Grace paused for a moment, studying her face. She
then nodded. “You’re right.”
“Does that please you, Ronu?” Sashe asked without
looking at him.
He didn’t respond, so she took it as a yes. She was
tempted to look at him again, but she kept her gaze averted. Latika
returned with a few servants who had their breakfast. They sat up a
table with plates and goblets. Sashe had lost her appetite. Her
pregnancy gave her strange moods when it came to food: things she
used to hate she now craved; and some things she used to love made
her sick. Pumpkin juice, for example. She let Grace drink it
all.
They indulged in light conversation, but Sashe’s mind
was on Grace’s words, on William’s threat. She was a pawn to him,
merely someone Grace cared about and nothing more. He was willing
to grieve his father, to risk his life, in order to keep Grace. No,
in his mind, he wasn’t risking anything. He was that assured in his
power, that confident that he would get anything he wanted.
And when his father died? What would happen to Sashe
then? To her child? There were not many legal protections for her.
A bit more for the child, but still, their future was as precarious
as her life had been since Seth had died. She’d succumbed to the
pretense of security and comfort, but where were the king’s last
mistresses? He spoke kind words to her, said he cared for her more
than the others, and she reveled in it while with him, but later,
reality set in and she knew how empty they were. Words spoken in
passion.
“Sashe?” Grace said.
Sashe looked at her, her thoughts clearing. Grace had
been talking. “I’m sorry,” Sashe said, clearing her throat.
“You seem distracted.”
“I am, I’m sorry.” Sashe put her napkin down and took
a drink of water.
“If what I said earlier is disturbing you…”
“It’s more than that.” A shaky hand fiddled with her
hair, then picked a piece of lint off of her sleeve. “It’s
everything.”
Grace didn’t reply, as though waiting for her to go
on. When she didn’t, Grace said, “Do you want to tell me about
it?”
Sashe hardly knew Grace, but she trusted her, after
all she’d done for the Protectors, for Dar. When she’d come to the
castle for lunch nearly two months ago, when Evan was recovering,
she’d seemed so unsure of herself, unsure of all of this news,
unsure of the Avialies and the Protectors. She had a purpose now, a
determination in her eyes, and even though she was here at the
castle to protect her friends and family from William, that resolve
never seemed to leave her. Sashe had felt that way once, had told
Tisha she’d always choose the Avialies, and then she’d run off to
live in the castle.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Sashe finally
said. “I never planned on getting pregnant. I was on
contraceptives.” She stood and touched her belly. She was starting
her fourth month now, and last time, the curse had struck a couple
weeks ago. Her bump was just the tiniest bit bigger. “I feel like
my body betrayed me. But I thought… it’s a second chance. Now I…”
she trailed off, unsure what to say. She did trust Grace, but she
had grown so used to hiding her emotions. She went to stand by the
window again.
Grace stood and joined her. “It is a second chance.
You’ll be a mother soon.”
“And he won’t have a father,” Sashe whispered. “He’s
not going to get what William got. He’s going to be the bastard.
King Thomas acts like he cares, but he knows I’m just his
mistress…” The horizon in the distance grew blurry as tears filled
her eyes. She looked down at her protruding belly, and tears fell
down her cheeks. “This should be Seth’s.”
Grace wrapped an arm around her shoulders and stepped
closer. “Sashe—”
Sashe stepped back, shaking her head. “I didn’t want
to stay here. I was just here until… until… well, I don’t know, but
I didn’t plan on this. But now, now I have no choice because I know
Thomas will keep me safe.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t want it
to happen this way.”
Grace gently took her hand. “I’m sorry, Sashe.”
Tears came again, unbidden. She could blame her
emotions on the pregnancy, on the strange mood swings, but
honestly, she hadn’t spoken this much about her emotions to anyone
for months, maybe even years.
“I miss him,” Sashe whispered. “I miss him so much.
It was getting easier, but now that I’m pregnant, I just keep
thinking about him. He wanted us to have a girl so she could have
my hair. He sang all these lullabies to me when I couldn’t fall
asleep, these songs from Jolen that his parents used to sing to
him, and he said he’d sing them to the baby. And it’s not fair that
Evan’s alive and Seth isn’t. I keep hoping he’s out there
somewhere, I keep thinking that maybe Tisha tortured him for two
years, but I know it’s not possible because I watched them cut his
throat. He died right next to me while I was holding his hand.” She
broke down after that, the sobs taking over her. She sunk to the
ground and pulled her knees up to her chest and cried into her
dress.
Grace wrapped her arms around her and said
meaningless things meant to comfort her. She stroked down Sashe’s
hair and rubbed her back, and Sashe just cried harder.
She hadn’t slept well last night or the night before.
Nightmares had chased her through the hours, and Gregorio had been
in nearly all of them. She dozed off there on the ground of her
grand chambers in the castle, the place she’d tried to ignore her
grief and regret and pain for nearly a year and a half.
She stirred when strong arms wrapped around her. She
jerked in alarm when she realized someone was holding her, but then
she looked up into the face of Ronu. He smelled like cinnamon. She
regarded his face as her own flamed with embarrassment, but he
didn’t look down at her. His face was full of angles. His dark skin
blended into the darkness of her bedroom.
He laid her down in her bed and covered her with
blankets. Grace sat next to her bedside, saying something. Sashe
turned from her and buried her face into the pillow next to her.
Somehow, she fell asleep, and dreams left her alone.
* * *
Sashe’s back rose and fell steadily as she fell
asleep again. Grace sat there for a few minutes, wringing her hands
together. When she was sure Sashe was all right, she stood up. She
nodded to Ronu as she left. At least someone was watching over
Sashe, someone other than the king, who seemed clueless about his
son’s nature.
Grace bit the inside of her lip as she went to her
chambers. If Lisbeth hadn’t lied about the prophecy, what would
their lives be like today? Seth may be alive. Sashe may be pregnant
with his child like she wanted to be. She shook her head. There was
no way to change the past or change the mistakes they’d all
made.
As she came to the west wing of the castle, she heard
raised voices. She slowed as she approached the corner, and she
peeked around it. Kilar stood outside of her doors, arguing with
her maidservant Marisa. “If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll
tell William who was responsible for the sense-dulling potion in
Grace’s dish,” he said.
Marisa huffed. “There’s no way you can prove
that.”
Kilar stepped close to her. His voice dropped, and
Grace couldn’t catch his words from this far away. Her brow
furrowed. Marisa had given her the sense-dulling potion? But
why?
“I told you, I don’t know where Cobb or Kris are!”
Marisa said. “Now go away before Lady Grace returns.” She turned to
the door, but Kilar caught her arm.
Grace stepped out from her hiding spot and walked
towards them with purpose. She cleared her throat.
They both looked up and saw her. Kilar let go of
Marisa, brushing down her sleeve. Marisa glared at him.
“Is everything all right?” Grace asked once she
reached them.
“Just fine,” Kilar said, an oily smile slipping onto
his face. “Marisa and I were talking about the proper use of
potions.”
“Did you say Cobb and Kris were missing?”
Kilar’s smile tightened. “I wouldn’t say
missing.”
“Oh, no,” Marisa said. “No one’s seen them since
dinner last night, but they’re not missing. Even though the
servants say they weren’t in their rooms all night.”
Kilar shot her a look. He nodded to Grace and strode
down the corridor. Grace watched him go, then smirked at Marisa,
even as her stomach stirred uneasily. “It seems like they need to
do a better job protecting the magic folk who work here.”
“Indeed,” Marisa agreed, opening the door for
her.
Was it Evan and Adrian’s men again? Was there any
chance they were back for her? Grace wondered how the Avialies were
responding to the royal edict. It had gone out yesterday as soon as
the king had gotten out of his long meeting with Tisha, Kilar, and
William. Tisha had stormed past her chambers, looking ready to stab
anyone who had the gall to even speak to him. He hadn’t shown for
dinner. Grace’s parents had arrived for it, which was much more
pleasant than sitting through a meal with Tisha. Her mother’s
stories and antics would have been enough to battle even Tisha’s
bad mood. Frivolous as she could be, she could charm a rock.
Grace wouldn’t let anything happen to her mother. No
matter what power the prince thought he had, he wouldn’t lay a
finger on her. He could harass Grace as much as he wanted to, but
she was tired of him threatening the ones she loved. She was tired
of all of this. She wanted it to be over, wanted to know the
Avialies would be safe, as well as her family.
“Marisa,” Grace said as she sat down at her desk. She
regarded her maidservant. Marisa had to be at least a couple years
older than her, maybe even in her thirties. What was her story? Why
was she really here? “I heard what Kilar said about the
sense-dulling potion.”
Marisa’s eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the
blanket she was folding. She cleared her throat and looked lost for
a moment, staring down at the blanket and fixing its edges.
“Is it true?” Grace pressed. After a moment of
silence, something occurred to her. “Is it safe to talk about it?
Have they found a replacement for Wendy yet?”
Marisa licked her lips. “Tisha doesn’t want a
replacement, of course. Kilar is searching for one, though.”
“And the king?”
“He’s ill today, so I don’t think he’ll be concerned
with it until he’s well again,” Marisa said.
Grace stood. “So, please tell me, did you give me the
potion?”
Marisa took a deep breath as she set the blanket down
on the edge of the bed. “Lady Grace, I thought I’d be protecting
you. If I had any idea you’d taken a counterpotion, I wouldn’t have
done it. I didn’t want to get you into trouble with the prince.”
She finally met Grace’s eyes, and Grace was surprised to see some
kind of affection. She’d always thought of Marisa as a maidservant
simply doing her job by passing information about her to Tisha,
who’d recommended her. But now, she wasn’t sure.
“Who are you?” Grace asked. “Are you working for
Tisha?”
Marisa frowned, wringing her hands in front of her.
“Lady Grace, I’m sorry I—”
“I’m not angry. I’m grateful… and confused. Why would
you help me?”
Marisa’s voice became small and quiet so Grace could
hardly hear her. “I know what it’s like to be taken advantage of. I
knew the look in the prince’s eyes when he told me about a private
dinner in his chambers. I didn’t know how to stop him, but I
thought I could at least… at least you wouldn’t have to experience
it, at least you wouldn’t have the memory haunting you.”