The Spirit War (22 page)

With the queen gone, court was over, and people began coming up to the royal couple to offer their congratulations. Josef shot Eli a look that would have been panic on anyone else’s face, and Eli, recognizing his cue, sprang into action, sliding deftly around the guards and up the dais stairs.

“Princess,” he said, dropping another, shallower bow as he fell in beside Josef. “Congratulations on your nuptials. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more succinct royal wedding.”

Adela gave him a skeptical look. “With war on the horizon, the queen saw no purpose in needless expense,” she said. “Osera is a practical country, Mr. Banage.”

Eli flinched in surprise before remembering the identity he’d chosen for this foray. Fortunately, the princess was too distracted to notice. She was already turning to greet the thin man with graying blond hair, a hawkish nose, and a stern expression very similar to Josef’s, who was the first to climb the stairs.

“Duke Finley,” Adela said, bobbing her head.

The man didn’t even look at her. His eyes were on Josef, looking the prince up and down with his hands on his hips.

“The wayward prince, back at last,” the duke said. “I suppose that means Osera is now mortgaged to whatever bounty hunter dragged you in?”

Josef stiffened. “There’s no hunter involved. I came back on my own.”

“Really?” the duke said. “Prince Thereson, doing his duty? That would be a first.”

He said this last bit over his shoulder to the well-dressed group standing behind him, many of whom laughed out loud at the duke’s
daring. Josef clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward before Eli jabbed him hard in the small of the back.

“Do you think it is wise for you to speak so of the prince in the queen’s hall, Finley?”

Josef and Eli both blinked. The words had come from Adela, who was glaring at the duke like he was a pebble she’d found in her boot.

The duke sneered back. “No wiser than addressing the next king of Osera without his title,
Adela
.”

The princess’s scowl deepened, but Duke Finley wasn’t looking at her anymore. He leaned in to Josef, a smug smile on his face. “You’ve been gone awhile, cousin,” he said in a low voice. “One man to another, let me give you a little advice. Theresa thinks she can cling to her father’s throne even in death by marrying her failure of a son to the daughter of her favorite gold-digging maid, but you won’t last a day past the queen’s funeral. I am the named heir, but even if I weren’t, the people of Osera would never stand to have a common murderer as their king. The only reason they tolerate one as their prince is because of your mother. In any case, I wouldn’t get too comfortable, were I in your position.”

Eli winced. Though the duke’s voice was soft, the room around them had gone deathly still, and Eli had no illusions that the insult had somehow gone unheard. But before he could say anything to diffuse the situation, Josef opened his mouth and made it worse.

“I have no intention of being king,” he said. “Never have. As for me being a murderer…” Josef lifted his chin, and his hands drifted to the sword at his side. “You’re right. I’ve killed people. But I’m a swordsman, and so was every man I defeated. Death is something you learn to expect when you choose the life of the sword.”

“You’re quick to draw such a fine line,” the duke said, leaning back. “Must help you sleep at night.” He flashed the couple a final, thin smile and turned to walk back down the dais steps. “Congratulations
on your marriage. I can’t think of two people who deserve each other more.”

Eli arched an eyebrow at the duke’s retreating back. “What a lovely individual.”

Josef grunted in reply, but Adela cast a cold eye at her husband. “Finley’s not the only one who thinks that way,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t speak so freely of the men you’ve killed, Prince Thereson.”

“I am not ashamed of what I am,” Josef said hotly.

“But others are,” Adela said. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Josef stared at her, but Adela was the picture of serenity as she turned and took the hand of the elderly lady who was next in line to wish the royal couple well.

It took almost two hours to greet all the nobility. They were arranged by rank, but Josef glowered at everyone equally, so it was quite fortunate that Adela was there to give the proper greeting to each noble before any offense could be taken.

After all the Oseran noble families had their say, the royal couple was shuffled down to the front gate to be announced before the crowd that had gathered in the square. The people cheered when Adela appeared, and she smiled and waved at them like a perfect princess. Beside her vibrant happiness, Josef looked like a looming vulture, hunched and dour, glaring at everything.

Eli watched the whole thing from the back, blithely ignoring the servant who was trying to convince him that he would be more comfortable waiting in his room. He tried sending Josef cues to lighten up, but Josef was too far gone in his dudgeon to notice, and Eli soon gave up in favor of watching Adela.

It was quite the show. The princess was the perfect mix of sweet shyness and hard Oseran duty with her long, glossy hair, pretty smiles, and shining armor. The crowd was mad for her. They cheered wildly, pressing against the guards. Adela smiled and
waved back, looking down with becoming modesty whenever the people grew too wild. This, of course, only made the crowd cheer louder. It was a perfectly played performance. So perfect that Eli was beginning to wonder how long she’d practiced.

Finally, the presentation ended, and the royal couple was escorted back to the throne room. Josef looked like a ten-year veteran returning from the front as he walked over to the pillar to retrieve the Heart of War and the rest of his weaponry. Adela, on the other hand, was prettier than ever, with her cheeks glowing from the warmth of the crowd. She stopped a moment to greet the knot of royal guardsmen who were waiting at the throne room entrance, and then she excused herself and walked over to her husband. Josef stopped strapping swords to himself long enough to give her a questioning look.

“The queen asked that I give you a tour of the barracks,” she said, her voice almost shy. “In case you wanted to resume your duty as head of the Queen’s Guard.”

Josef wrinkled his nose. “Who’s head now?”

“I am,” Adela said.

“Impossible,” Josef said, getting back to the business of reattaching his weapons. “That’s a royal position, inherited by blood. Your father wasn’t even titled. How’d you end up with it?”

“Because your mother was too sick to do it herself and she didn’t trust Finley with her guards,” Adela said, putting her hands on her hips. “It should be the prince’s duty, but it’s not like you were here, was it?”

Josef stopped midstrap. “I get it, all right? I wasn’t here. I let people down. I’m a terrible prince. Message received, so you can all drop the guilt routine.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Adela said, crossing her arms. “You could
try
being a prince, at least in public.”

“I have tried,” Josef said, buckling his second sword back onto his hip. “Didn’t do me any good then, won’t do me any good now. I just want to get this over with and get on with my life.”

Adela gave him a scornful look. “Then I’ll see you tonight,” she said, turning on her heel. “And we can get on with getting this over with. Good afternoon, prince.”

Josef sighed. “Adela…”

But the princess was already walking away. Josef watched her go and then he turned and grabbed the Heart of War, slinging it on his back with so much force that Eli winced.

“You know,” Eli said as gently as he could, “she does have a point.”

“Shut. Up,” Josef said.

“It could be worse,” Eli went on. “At least you’re not stuck with some insipid court flower. I mean, despite the hobble of being married to you, she seems to be a popular princess. She’s certainly not bad to look at, not stupid, and we’ve all seen she’s a decent fighter.”

“That’s the thing,” Josef said, dropping his voice. “I can’t shake the feeling something was wrong with that duel.”

“Josef.” Eli
tsk
ed. “Calling foul just because she gave you a harder time than you expected isn’t very princely.”

“I’m not calling foul,” he said softly. “Adela and I were kids together, remember? We had the same sword instructor, and we dueled a lot. I knew she would be good. I just didn’t expect her to be that good.”

“That fast, you mean,” Eli said, lowering his voice to match Josef’s.

“It’s not even that,” Josef said, shaking his head. “She could have dodged that blow to the chest. I saw her feet start to move, but then she stopped. She let me win.”

Eli fought the urge to smile. “Maybe she didn’t want to embarrass you?”

“She’s not
that
good,” Josef grumbled, marching toward the door. “Come on. I need a drink.”

“But you don’t drink,” Eli said, running after him.

Josef started walking faster. “I do now.”

Eli left it at that and focused on keeping up with his swordsman. This was going to be some wedding night.

Two hours later, Josef had almost finished his one drink when a servant entered and told him his room was ready.

“I have a room,” Josef said, scowling up from where he sat on the floor with the Heart of War propped on his shoulder. “What do you think you just walked into?”

The servant flinched, and Eli gave him a sympathetic look from his spot on the bed, but he didn’t do anything to save the poor boy. In the five years he’d known Josef, he’d never seen him in such a foul mood. He was happy to let someone else take the heat for a bit.

“Forgive me, my lord,” the servant said at last, eying Josef’s knives, all of which had found their way back to their places on Josef’s body. “This secure chamber is for noble guests. I’ve been ordered to escort you to the rooms you will be sharing with your wife.”

Josef set his glass on the floor with a bitter sigh and stood up. The servant stepped aside as Josef walked out the door, but when Eli tried to follow, the man cut him off.

“I am sorry, sir,” he said. “The queen’s orders were that the prince was to go alone. Respect for his wedding night, you must understand.”

“Well, I would never disrespect a wedding night,” Eli said, glancing over the man’s shoulder. He caught Josef’s eyes and gave him the look they’d shared a thousand times:
Do you want to get out?
Josef shook his head, and Eli stayed put, watching from the doorway as the servant escorted Josef down the hall. When they disappeared around the corner, Eli stepped back into the room.

He picked up Josef’s half-empty glass from the floor and finished it in one long drink. He set the empty glass on the table and grabbed the bottle of spirits instead. He corked it tight and slid the bottle into his belt. When it was secure, he walked over to the window and hoisted himself up, sliding between the bars with practiced ease into the city night.

CHAPTER

9

D
id you see his face?” Henry was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out. “You’d think he was standing for execution, not affirming his marriage.”

Adela smiled and refilled Henry’s cup from the fat bottle of dark wine. They were sitting in the officer’s lounge of the castle guard, a little hallway of a room at the very top of the palace just below the tower where the Council wizards kept the queen’s Relay point. There were three of them seated around the polished table: Adela; old Beechum, her sergeant; and Henry Finley, Duke Finley’s eldest son and Adela’s vice captain.

Henry took the refilled glass and downed its contents in one swallow. Adela leaned on the table, watching him with a wary eye. “Maybe you should stop, Henry,” she said. “You’re on duty tonight.”

“Why?” he said, tossing his empty cup on the table. “If the prince of Osera is a murderer, why can’t I be a drunk?” He lurched forward, bumping the table so hard he set the other glasses rocking. “It’s a tragedy, that’s what it is, you having to go to bed with that bloodthirsty—”

“Finley.” Sergeant Beechum’s voice was heavy with warning. “Like him or not, Thereson is our prince. You will be civil.”

“Civil.” Henry snorted. “There’s a word that has no place in the same breath with Thereson. When my father’s king, he’ll turn that failure prince out on his glowering face. Just see if he doesn’t. Then you’ll be free, Dela.”

“I’m sure your father will toss Josef into the sea the moment the crown’s on his head,” Adela said with a smile. “Just as I’m equally sure my mother and I will be tossed right behind him. The dear Duke Finley doesn’t care much for us.”

“My father doesn’t like competition,” Henry said bitterly, and then his face broke into a smile. “He doesn’t know you like I do, princess. He’s angry that the Queen’s Guard loves and follows you with a devotion not seen since Theresa was young, or that the people cheer you louder than they cheer him. He doesn’t understand that those things don’t have to stand in his way. I keep trying to tell him that an alliance—”

“Is impossible now,” Adela finished. “My husband’s come home, Henry. I’m no longer a wife in name only. I’m afraid I now truly am the competition your father always accused me of being.”

“More’s the bad luck,” Beechum said blackly. “Thereson is the shame of the Eisenlowe name. It’s a disgrace for a prince of the Iron Lions to be a murderer and a thief and who knows what else. We’d have all been better off if he’d never come home.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Adela said. “But he’s here now, and we must make the best of it.”

Henry sat back in his chair with a huff. “I still can’t believe you let him beat you in the Proving. It would have done the country well to see that traitor get the beating he deserved.”

“Who says I let him win?” Adela said, reaching for her own cup. “He
is
a renowned swordsman.”

“Come off it, Dela,” Henry said with a sly smile. “We all know you’re the best fighter in the guard. There’s no way that wastrel prince could beat you. What
I
want to know is how much the old battle-ax leaned on you to take the fall and make her brat of a son look good.”