The Consort Page 11

  “If I am what you say,” she said, hedging on using the term Doma in the Nit Decus castle where they had all been slaughtered, “then why am I not already dead?”

  “Because I am protecting you,” he said simply. “As I have tried to do since the day you arrived. Don’t you remember me telling you not to leave the castle walls? When I walked with you through Albion?”

  “And how are you capable of protecting me like that?”

  He grinned devilishly. “In time, I will share everything with you. For now, know that, as long as you’re with me, no harm will ever come to you.”

  Cyrene shook her head, unable to fathom how that was possible. But she did remember Kael’s warning not to leave all those months ago. And how furious he had been when she had. How terrified he had been for her when she returned to the castle in Albion. Had he been looking out for me all this time?

  “What are you going to do with the body?” she whispered.

  “I’ll handle it. You should get some rest. And, Cyrene,” he said as she turned to go, “tomorrow, we should talk.”

  “About?”

  “Everything.”

  Standing in front of a giant trifold mirror as Lady Cauthorn fitted Cyrene for an Investiture dress felt as if it were happening to another person in another lifetime. Lady Cauthorn had created her dress for the ball when she became an Affiliate. She had made the gorgeous thing in one night and taken nothing in payment, except for a favor when she asked for it.

  If she had known then what she knew now, she never would have traded in favors so easily.

  “Stop fidgeting, girl! Has nothing changed with you?” Lady Cauthorn asked, purposefully poking her with her needle.

  “Poke me one more time with that needle, and you’ll regret it,” Cyrene muttered under her breath.

  Lady Cauthorn laughed. “Same spunk at least.”

  Cyrene didn’t even have the heart to banter further. Her mind was on other things. Like how to escape this castle with her friends and what she would do with her new life once she did.

  And Kael. The bloody prince who always appeared at exactly the right time with his wise words and uncertain promises. The ease with which he had driven his blade into the assassin’s chest. How her heart had ached at the thought of Maelia doing the same thing, suffering a similar fate.

  And her magic. That was even more baffling than Kael Dremylon. At least he was constant. Her magic was a wild thing, and it had never been easier to use than last night. She had no idea how she had been able to control herself so completely. Even when she had been learning her powers from Matilde and Vera, she had only had real success when working with Avoca. Yet, last night, she had wielded her powers with ease.

  “Are you even paying attention?” Lady Cauthorn asked.

  Cyrene sighed. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Lady Cauthorn stepped back and appraised her. “I asked whether you were going to let Ahlvie and Orden suffer in prison or do something about it?”

  Cyrene’s eyes widened. “How do you…”

  “How is the wrong question, dear. The more important one is, how will I help you?”

  “You know Ahlvie and Orden?”

  “People who are invested in the heir are all connected,” she said with a wicked grin.

  “The…heir?”

  “Come now, girl. Don’t play. We have very little time before Daufina returns, or we’re interrupted. I can’t imagine that it’s been easy for you to be alone with the Dremylons these last couple of weeks. All things considered.” She winked at Cyrene. “Now, who do I need to contact outside of the castle walls? Write me a letter quick. We can spare the time. I know your measurements well enough already. Though…you have lost some weight. Are they not feeding you? No, it must be stress.”

  Cyrene’s mouth dropped open in shock and confusion. Everything that Lady Cauthorn was saying was going in one ear and out another. She couldn’t comprehend where this was all coming from.

  “Have you gone deaf, girl? I am trying to help you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Snap out of it. You know what they do to people like you if you stay.”

  “You…know what I am?” Cyrene whispered.

  She glanced around the dressing room even though she knew they were alone. Her heart galloped ahead of her.

  Is this really happening? Is Lady Cauthorn actually offering me help? Does she know about my magic? How?

  “I just said I did, didn’t I? Now, if you want my help, you need to write that letter. We aren’t safe, talking here, for much longer.”

  Cyrene jumped into action. She didn’t know why she trusted Lady Cauthorn, especially since she still owed her a favor. Now, Cyrene would be further in her debt. But she couldn’t just wager on Daufina. It was always better to have multiple pieces on the board.

  She had finished sketching out a hasty letter to Avoca when a knock at the door made both of them jump. Cyrene stuffed the letter into Lady Cauthorn’s hands. She had no idea how Lady Cauthorn was going to get it to Avoca or how she would even find her, but Cyrene didn’t ask questions. Lady Cauthorn stuffed the note in her bodice and shooed Cyrene back onto the pedestal.

  When the door swung open, Cyrene was trying to appear calm and collected rather than as flustered as she felt.

  “There you are, Cyrene!” Elea said, traipsing into the room. She curtsied to Lady Cauthorn. “Good to see you again.”

  Cyrene breathed a sigh of relief. “Elea!”

  “Aren’t you the spitting image of your mother?” Lady Cauthorn said.

  “And everyone was worried that I’d never fill out.” Elea twirled in a circle. “And here I am, wearing one of your gowns.”

  “Indeed, girl. Do you have a reason for interrupting my work?”

  Elea colored up to the tips of her ears. “I came to see my sister. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her, you know!”

  “A day,” Lady Cauthorn corrected.

  Cyrene laughed softly. “It’s fine. We were almost done for the day, weren’t we?”

  Lady Cauthorn arched an eyebrow. “Of course. It’ll take me a while to work on an acceptable dress for you anyway.”

  She hoped not too long.

  Not that it would matter if she was able to get out of here with Daufina’s help.

  Cyrene turned her attention back to her sister. She couldn’t believe how much Elea had changed in a year. She was always tall, but now, she carried herself with grace instead of awkwardness. They could have been twins at first glance if it weren’t for the height difference. But Cyrene could still see the slightly elongated face, thinner pink lips, and long, nimble fingers that had endeared her to the piano forte.

  Despite all of her plans to leave as soon as she possibly could, Cyrene couldn’t help but revel in her sister. She stepped off the pedestal and wrapped her arms around Elea.

  “I’ve missed you,” Cyrene whispered. “It’s been so long.”

  “And I thought it would be bad when you made Affiliate,” Elea said, stepping back and sending her an easy smile. “I didn’t imagine what it would be like with a kidnapping attached to that.”

  “Right,” Cyrene said. She turned her head away from Elea.

  No one here knew that she hadn’t been kidnapped. She hated lying to Elea and even more that she was going to play the same ruse again.

  Elea linked their arms as they exited the fitting room. “Now, tell me all about your adventures.”

  “Adventures?” Cyrene hedged.

  “Come now, Cyrene. I’m your sister, and besides Rhea, your closest friend, I know that you’ve dreamed of adventure your entire life. Maybe even more than the thought of becoming consort. And, now, you get both!”

  Cyrene kept her shoulders straight and tried not to betray herself. “Well, adventure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I’d assume not,” Elea said prudently. “I don’t need your kind of adventures. I just want to become an Affiliate next month a
nd join the rest of my family.”

  “Yes. That would be Mother and Father’s dream come true. A full family in the First Class.”

  What Cyrene didn’t say was that it was her greatest fear. She wished that Elea could escape all of this in a way that Cyrene knew she never would.

  Elea would be caught, too, if she stayed here. But Cyrene didn’t know how to get her to come away with her. She didn’t know if Elea would even leave with her. Rhea hadn’t.

  “Cyrene?” Elea asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you truly all right? I can’t imagine how you are handling all of this.”

  All right.

  All right?

  Her best friend had been murdered. She had lost the man she loved. All of her friends were dispersed. And her magic was only responding to Kael Dremylon.

  She was the furthest thing from all right.

  “No, of course you’re not,” Elea said immediately. “What am I even thinking? I’ve spent the last several months imagining all sorts of atrocities that must have been happening to you. You seem to be in one piece, but I can see that, mentally, you’re still not here.”

  “Truly,” Cyrene agreed.

  Her mind was still on a scaffold in Eleysia.

  But she couldn’t talk about that. Not with Elea. Not with anybody.

  She was locking it all back up and concentrating on what she could control. That most certainly had nothing to do with Eleysia. Not a damn thing.

  With a heavy heart, Cyrene pressed forward, eager to change the subject.

  “I do wish that I had been able to see Rhea in Albion. However, we docked and immediately left again. There was no chance to get word to her.”

  Elea abruptly stopped, jerking both of them to a halt.

  “What…”

  “Did no one tell you?” Elea asked.

  Cyrene raised her eyebrows. “Tell me what?”

  “Rhea is here!”

  “Here? But why?”

  The last time she had seen her oldest friend, Rhea Gramm, she had been in Albion, working for her Receiver—Master Caro Barca, a mad inventor, who made Bursts for holiday events each year. When Cyrene had invited her to come along, Rhea had declined, deciding to stay behind in Albion to study the prophecy they had discovered. She had no idea what Rhea could be doing in the capital city.

  “She was assisting in your investigation back in Albion. King Edric remained in the city for months, searching for you. He only returned at the Eos holiday when all else had given up hope of ever finding you. But, when everyone returned to court, her Receiver, Master Caro Barca, moved to the capital. She’s been here, in the castle, ever since.”

  Cyrene’s mind buzzed with all the new information. Edric had waited for her for months in Albion. No wonder he was mad with obsession. It seemed he had thought of nothing else since her disappearance. Not that she allowed that to excuse his behavior.

  She wondered how Rhea must have felt, assisting in a kidnapping investigation when she had helped Cyrene escape. Or how she felt about being back in Byern when she had just adjusted to her new position in Albion. One that she had enjoyed and flourished in.

  Only one way to find out.

  “Take me to her.”

  Elea navigated the corridors better than Cyrene ever had. Soon, they were in a part of the castle Cyrene had never even known existed. The hallways were enormous. As tall and as wide as a house. No paintings or tapestries. Not even the expensive Aurumian rugs that Cyrene had become accustomed to. Everything was bare and dreary in the belly of the castle where the only light came from bracketed candles at indeterminate intervals.

  “Where are we?” Cyrene whispered.

  Elea shrugged one lithe shoulder. “It’s an abandoned part of the castle. There was a cave-in at some point, and no one lives over here anymore. I’m not sure why it’s so cavernous though.”

  “How do you know this much about the castle?” Cyrene asked suspiciously. “You only moved into the castle a couple weeks ago when the King brought all the major families into court.”

  Elea ducked her chin to her chest, and her cheeks heated. “I, uh…made a friend.”

  “Oh Creator! What’s his name?”

  “I…uh…um…”

  “Elea?” Cyrene asked, suddenly nervous.

  “Well, don’t tell Mother…Prince Kael.”

  Cyrene sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “You’ve become friends with the prince?”

  “Yes. We’re…we’re just friends though,” Elea rushed on. “I was shocked that he’d even noticed me. Since I’m not an Affiliate yet, I can’t participate in much of the court proceedings. Not even feast days.” She pouted, as if being kept from a dance was her biggest concern. “But he saw me in the gardens once and startled me. He said he thought I was someone else.”

  Cyrene’s heart raced ahead of her as she realized exactly what had happened. Hadn’t I just been thinking that Elea and I could be twins, if not for the subtle differences between us?

  “Me,” she whispered. “He thought you were me.”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “And he’s been your…friend since then? Only your friend?”

  Elea nodded again with a grin that said that the last thing she wanted was for the prince to be only her friend. “He was the one who told me that Rhea was down here.”

  “I see,” Cyrene said, chewing on her bottom lip.

  That settled it. She had to bring Elea with her. There was no way that she could leave her sister here. She might be in a truce with Kael at the moment. A temporary thing that they were both prodding at gently to see where the edges frayed. But she didn’t trust him enough with her sister to wait to see if—no, when it would all unravel.

  “You’ve suddenly gone pale,” Elea observed.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t approve.”

  “Hardly,” Cyrene said with a scoff.

  “Well, I just don’t think that you truly know him.”

  “Oh, dear Creator, you’re enamored.”

  “Well, how could I not be?” Elea asked. “He is the crown prince!”

  Cyrene looked into Elea’s dark blue eyes, so like her own, and saw the innocence and naïveté that Cyrene had left behind all those months before. She remembered being ensnared in Kael’s web when she had not known what he truly was. And still ensnared now even when she knew better.

  “Be careful,” Cyrene warned, clutching her sister’s hand.

  “I will.”

  What else could I say? Cyrene certainly wouldn’t have listened to advice to stay away from him. She still didn’t listen to her own advice. Strohm women were stubborn, and it would just backfire on her and send Elea straight to Kael, which was the last thing she wanted.

  Now, she was more determined than ever to figure out how to get Elea to go with her. So much depended on it.

  As Cyrene raised her arm to knock on the door, an explosion rocked the ground all around them. Elea was helplessly tossed back. A rip could be heard as she fell, catching her dress. Cyrene clutched on to the doorframe. Her knees were wobbly, and she banged her elbow against the wall but managed to stay on her feet.

  She let go of the door with shaky hands as the aftermath of the event passed. She stepped over to Elea and held her hand out.

  “What in the Creator’s name was that?” Cyrene asked with a shake of her head.

  Elea’s eyes were wide, and her dress was torn down the seam, revealing her creamy white leg beneath. “I have no idea! But it ruined my new dress. Mother is going to kill me.”

  “Let’s deal with that after we figure out what happened.”

  Cyrene turned back to face the door where the explosion had just come from…where Rhea was supposed to be. Then, with a determination she had for most things in her life, she strode through the door without knocking. What she found made her pause only a few feet into the room.

  “Rhea?” she gasped.

  The room was cavernous. It dwarfed the hall
ways that they had come from with a glass circular opening far above, shining light into the dark room. And there was Rhea, huddled in a corner, shaking. She was dressed in a man’s breeches and had some protective goggles hanging around her neck.

  Her head snapped up at Cyrene’s voice. Her eyes widened. “Cyrene?”

  “It’s me,” she said with a smile. “What in the Creator’s name are you doing in here?”

  Cyrene tentatively moved into the room with Elea on her heels. As she approached Rhea, she noticed black soot on her clothes and hands.

  Rhea shook her head and seemed disoriented. “Working.”

  “There was an explosion of some sort. Are you injured?”

  Rhea laughed manically and shook her head. “Hardly.”

  She rose to her feet and sighed, running a hand back through her bright red hair, which was stark against her pale cheeks. She chewed on her pink lips and smudged some soot onto her forehead.

  “When did you get back? How did you get back?” Rhea asked.

  “No one told you?” Cyrene asked. Her appearance had been news for the whole kingdom. She was shocked to find someone in the castle who wasn’t aware.

  “I don’t really venture out. I mostly stick to my work.”

  “And what work would that be?”

  Rhea glanced absentmindedly to a table with a bunch of powders and apparatuses on it. “Are you even going to hug me? We haven’t seen each other in months.”

  Elea laughed. “And ruin her dress?”

  Rhea’s eyes drifted to Elea. “It seems she wouldn’t be the only one.”

  “It was your explosion that did it!”

  “It’s fine,” Cyrene interjected.

  She pulled Rhea into a hug. The last thing she cared about was her dress.

  “You’re going to need to change before Consort—” Elea coughed slightly. “Apologies. Before Daufina finds you.”

  Rhea’s eyebrows rose. “Why did you apologize?”

  “I’m to be consort,” Cyrene told her, point-blank.

  “What?” Rhea gasped. “How? Why?”

  “All excellent questions.”

  “Why are you even surprised?” Elea asked. “And shouldn’t you be happy for her?”