The Consort Read online

  Ahlvie didn’t much like it either. He’d heard talk of it from the guards. Then, a light seemed to blind him with recognition.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “You might actually like this one.”

  Avoca tensed next to him. “With the risks you take, I doubt it.”

  “Me, too,” he said with a toothy grin.

  Twin guards flanked the entrance to Edric’s room. Cyrene wasn’t barred from entering, but she also was not here by invitation. In fact, it was ridiculously early in the morning, two days after the meeting where Daufina’s execution had been planned.

  Edric hadn’t said a word to her since then. No one had. Cyrene hadn’t complained about the seclusion. It had helped clear her thoughts. Given her confidence in her actions moving forward.

  Cyrene took a steady breath before knocking twice on Edric’s door. She could do this.

  After a minute of waiting impatiently, the door opened, and of all people, Merrick appeared before her. Cyrene took a step back. Something about Merrick felt…wrong. Inherently, viscerally wrong.

  “Can I help you?” Merrick straightened to his considerable height and adjusted the front of his black guard uniform.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked instead.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Not that it is any of your business, but as the Captain of His Majesty’s Royal Guard, I sleep in his quarters with him to be of assistance in case of an attack.”

  Cyrene’s mind whirled. Edric allowed this man to sleep in the same quarters as him? She shuddered as the thought hit her.

  “Now, what are you doing here, Miss Strohm?”

  Cyrene bristled at the tone and refusal to call her Affiliate. “I need an audience with the king.”

  “He is sleeping.”

  “Then, wake him,” she commanded.

  Merrick shot her a condescending look. “Unless it is a matter of state business, I do not presume to wake the king before he is ready to rise. You might be consort soon, but you do not yet command such respect.”

  “I understand,” she said, taking a small step backward. “I believed that the king rose early and hoped to catch him before he broke his morning fast. My apologies. I’ll come back later.”

  She turned to leave, but Merrick caught her arm.

  “Wait.” He sounded irritated that he even had to say it. “The king will have my head if you came by and I did not allow you entrance. Come in and hurry.”

  Cyrene managed a victorious smile before returning to a state of calm as she entered Edric’s private quarters. She had never been here before and was shocked with the simplicity. Much of the castle was ostentatious to a fault. She had gotten so accustomed to the overdone drapes, enormous tapestries, Aurumian rug after Aurumian rug layered on the cold floors, ornate furniture draped in silks, and crystal goblets with all silver flatware. Decadence upon decadence.

  Leather-bound books were on the wooden bookshelves, and the desk was cluttered with paperwork. A table and chairs were set up for when he dined in his rooms, and a sitting area was cloaked in neutral shades. Not much to look at, but perhaps he enjoyed it that way.

  Cyrene was wrapped up in disentangling the state of the room from the man she was about to meet. When she had first met him, he had been loving, caring, interested in her beyond the physical, and while she had always been hesitant about his power, he had never used it to his advantage. It was in sharp contrast to the man she was seeing today. Her absence had driven him insane. His actions were erratic at best, deadly at worst. Whatever connection there had been between them had turned rotten to the core. Perhaps she shouldn’t blame herself, but she was sure it was her fault.

  “Cyrene,” Edric said, dismissing Merrick with a wave of his hand.

  Merrick glared at Cyrene before striding from the room.

  “Excuse Merrick. He doesn’t like visitors after the last assassination attempt.”

  Edric wore an easy smile. His clothes were askew, as if he had thrown them on at the mention of her name. He still looked gorgeous in loose-fit black pants and a white button-up shirt, half-undone at the neck. Cyrene could keenly feel their connection in the space between them. She wondered if it felt the same to him. If her king was still there, under it all.

  “I was curious if you would come to me.”

  “Yes, My King.”

  He sighed. “Please, Cyrene. Edric. I will always just be Edric to you.”

  She wanted to say that was what Daufina had thought as well, but look at how that had turned out. However, she was still here for diplomacy. It could win this out as long as she kept her temper under wraps.

  “Of course…Edric.”

  “Why has it taken you so long?”

  “For what?”

  “To come to me.” He paced across the room, as if the thought of waiting for her to come to him had been pure torture. “It has been a week since I called on you. I thought you would have come sooner. Much sooner.”

  His blue-gray eyes found her in the distance, and she shivered. He thought she had come for much more than the real reason for her being here.

  “You waited for me to come to you?”

  “Yes. After our last…encounter,” he said, snarling out the last word, “I thought it would be best for you to remember who you were dealing with. For you to remember and come for me. And you have.”

  Cyrene opened and then closed her mouth. He believed that, if he gave her time to cool off after their incident in the gardens, she would get over it and come back to him. He thought she should feel honored by his intentions…no matter how dishonorable. Her skin crawled.

  If anything, she had been glad that he gave her the time to think. To put her life back together. But not enough to come running back to him. How delusional must he be to think that I would do that? Or had he been in a place of power so long that he couldn’t fathom someone not wanting him?

  Edric bridged the space between them, and Cyrene pulled back from the tension.

  “I have missed you so much.”

  He brushed back a loose dark curl around her face and smiled. And, in that moment, he was her Edric. It would be so easy to get lost. To be that innocent girl once more. The one who had been so willing to give up everything for this man.

  She closed her eyes and stepped back, letting his hand hang between them.

  That girl was dead.

  “I’m here for Daufina,” Cyrene said instead.

  “For Daufina.” His voice was cold, and he straightened, as if realizing this wasn’t that kind of house call.

  “You cannot execute her, Edric.”

  “I see.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not?”

  “Because she is innocent.”

  “She freed the prisoners and attempted to smuggle you out of the castle. Then, she accused you of witchcraft. I would think you, of all people, would want her gone.”

  “Wait…she freed the prisoners? Ahlvie and Orden are gone?”

  “We had already discovered her plot. So, we were moving the prisoners to a different cell. We had them in chains, and they were escorted by half a dozen guards. Yet, somehow, they managed to get free of their restraints and overpower six of my most highly trained guards to flee the castle. That sounds to me as if they had help. Does it not?”

  Cyrene shook her head. No, it sounded like…Ahlvie. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “No two men could do such a thing.”

  “No two ordinary men perhaps. They are not ordinary. I do not think Daufina had any part in it. You have known her longer than I have. Do you truly believe that she has committed treason? If anything, her fault is that she loves you too much.”

  Edric turned away from her. “If she loved me, as you say, then she would not have conspired against me.”

  “Do not be paranoid. You are a strong leader. You do not have to resort to this! Your people love you. Would you prefer they fear you? Because that is the line you are walking.”

  “And what do you
know of it?” He whirled around, his eyes hard. “You are no ruler. You are just a girl. Not born or bred for the throne.”

  “Maybe,” she snapped, “but I know leadership. I know fierce and loyal followers. I know that, if they fear you, they will hate you, too. And love might mean nothing to you…or me, but it can win wars without lifting a single weapon.” Cyrene took a deep breath, trying to calm the feral anger deep within her chest. “And I am not just a girl.”

  “You say all of this in defense of a woman who would have you hanged as a witch?” Edric asked, ignoring her last statement.

  “Yes!”

  “You are not talking sense.”

  “Edric, please, you can’t do this.”

  “I do not have to defend my actions to you, Cyrene. If you are not here to see me, then you are dismissed. I am a very busy man.” He turned his back on her and stepped toward his bedroom.

  Cyrene ground her teeth at the dismissal. As if he could get rid of her so easily. “If you do this, I will never be your consort. Never. I could never be yours.”

  She hated dangling that nugget out there, but she had to go for the jugular. Hit him where it hurt. Or else he would never listen to her.

  He whirled around. “Do not threaten me.”

  “Then, make peace. Please,” she begged, rushing back toward him. She took his hands in her own and stared up at him with all the pleading she could muster for this.

  Daufina was in this position because of her. No matter that she had turned Cyrene in for her magic. She couldn’t let her hang for this.

  “That is all I ask.”

  “And what of your…engagement?”

  “I am here. Does it look as if I am engaged?”

  She swallowed hard, hating the part that she was playing but reminded herself that this was the right thing to do. Daufina would not suffer Maelia’s fate. Not on her watch.

  Edric’s face loosened, and he linked their fingers, drawing her closer. “All right. If you want peace, then I will grant you peace.”

  “You will?” Cyrene breathed.

  “Indeed, my dear.” He brought her fingers to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her hand.

  Cyrene sighed softly, ignoring the way her skin ignited at the barest brush of his lips. “Thank you.”

  “I am happy to please you, Cyrene.”

  Diplomacy. Diplomacy could work. She just needed to remind herself of that. She could get out of the castle and out of whatever tacit agreement she had just entered in with Edric another way.

  She slowly extracted her hands from his with an easy smile.

  “Wonderful. I’m glad we could come to an agreement. I’ll just…go to my fitting this morning then.”

  “This early?” he asked, edging closer.

  “Yes. Bright and early.”

  Then, she smiled coyly and all but fled from Edric’s bedroom.

  Creator! What am I going to do? She couldn’t go through that again. Being near him was hard enough with the way her body reacted to him. It was unfair to play with his emotions. Yet she couldn’t seem to get through to him any other way.

  As soon as Cyrene was out of his rooms, she dashed down the hallways, thankful that she had come at such an early hour. No one was out and about, except the help, and she could move freely.

  She hadn’t been completely idle since her failed attempt to escape. She had just made it appear that way. In her spare time, she had found out where Daufina was being held. Though she hadn’t dared to ask anyone about Ahlvie or Orden. She hadn’t wanted that to get back to Edric. At least they were somewhere safe.

  Cyrene found a guard standing outside of the tower quarters Daufina had been given for her final days. The man bowed when he saw her and allowed her to enter.

  “Daufina?” Cyrene called into the room.

  The consort appeared in a simple purple dress. The plainest garment Cyrene had ever seen her in. Her hair was down and loose around her face. She seemed resigned to what had happened.

  “Leave me!” Daufina snapped.

  “Daufina, I’ve come with news.”

  Daufina trained angry eyes on Cyrene. Her expression was one of deep loathing. “Be gone, witch. Are you here to cast a spell on me? Well, you already did so, and it worked. You have my position, my king, my life. What else could you possibly want from me?”

  “I want none of that.”

  “You are a liar.”

  “We knew that trying to get me out of the castle came with risks. But in no way did I believe that it would result in this, Daufina. You must believe me.”

  “I believe that you set me up and left me to drown.”

  “I went to Edric to ask for a pardon for you,” Cyrene told her.

  “You did what?”

  “He has granted my pardon. You will be safe.”

  “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “He did. I just saw him.”

  “But…why would you do that for me?”

  Cyrene’s heart hardened at the thought. “Because I could not do it for someone else, and she didn’t deserve her fate either.”

  The girl gave her hope.

  Daufina had seen Edric’s face when he ordered her execution. She had known that he was serious. She knew him well enough to know when he was set on a course. And this declaration was a crash waiting to happen. Nothing could steer him away from his decision.

  But Cyrene.

  Somehow, Cyrene.

  Daufina had known that she was a wild card from the start. When she had agreed to make her an Affiliate against Kaliana’s wishes, she had thought that she would have a pawn, a trump card that she could play in her favor. And, for a time, Daufina had believed that Cyrene truly was that player in her deck of cards.

  She had pushed her onto Edric’s barge for procession. Daufina had been tired. So tired. Her physical relationship with Edric had diminished when her love for the crown and power overtook her intimate affection for the man himself. Daufina knew she would never have a bastard child with the king, like so many previous consorts. She had taken measures to ensure that would never happen.

  And Kaliana drove him mad. It seemed, for so long, that he would never have a child with her.

  Daufina had known that she had to foist Edric off on somebody else. He was a loyal man, but she was certain she would be able to find someone to catch his eye.

  When Cyrene had come about, it had seemed obvious. Edric was interested in the girl. Cyrene was young, naive, and willing. Putting the plan into motion should have been easy. Then, the girl had gone and disappeared in the middle of the night and ruined everything.

  Now, Kaliana was pregnant, and Edric wasn’t the father. A fact no one but herself and Kaliana knew. A fact she would take to her grave if need be.

  With Cyrene’s interference in the matter of her execution, she didn’t want to hope that Cyrene had such control over Edric’s actions. But how could she not? After seeing the way Cyrene seduced him…possibly even controlled him with her magic, she was capable of changing his mind. Daufina hated the idea of being indebted to a witch, but she would accept that if it meant she got to live.

  All she had to do was wait and see what would happen.

  Life or death.

  When the guards came for her at dawn, she was ready.

  Her hair was brushed, and her face was clean. She had on a new dress. It was as black as her midnight hair and simply adorned. Her hands were red from wringing them through her anxiety. Her cheeks were pale with dark smudges underneath, revealing how little sleep she had gotten the last three nights.

  She was unshackled and allowed to keep her dignity. She was thankful for this kindness. As small as it was.

  She held her head high and walked with grace. Part of her wished that Kaliana would be there to make a scene, as she always did. Then, at least she could count on someone coming to her defense.

  Though a part of her heart was praying that Cyrene was right. She wanted to believe that with all her heart.

  He
r slippered feet carried her down the last staircase and out toward the open courtyard outside of the castle walls. A scaffold had been erected from remnants of one from the forgotten parts of the castle. A noose hung loose from the bar at the top. A crowd of Affiliates and High Order gathered for the spectacle. No common folk. Nothing but the best for a consort stripped of her title.

  Edric was seated on a raised dais, opposite of the scaffold. Merrick stood at his back, but no one else was beside him. Not his queen, not his new consort, not even his brother. He was judge, jury, and executioner in one with no need for guidance. Ultimate power in the form of one little boy who had been thwarted by his father in his last minutes. A sad excuse for a king. So much potential thrown away.

  Daufina shivered as she climbed the stairs up to the top of the scaffold. A guard ushered her to the center of the wooden platform. Her feet tripped across the trap door, and she shivered, despite the June summer weather. No heat rolled off of the Fallen Desert this early morning. It was just a breeze from the mountains, wet and chilled.

  The brisk wind caught her hair as the noose was secured around her neck and tightened. She swallowed as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was here. Standing right here.

  After all that she had done for Edric, after everything she had done to keep Byern afloat in those years when Edric thwarted allies and advisors and insisted on ruling how he saw fit. In those years when Kaliana hadn’t even known how to do anything but act like a spoiled princess, let alone how to rule Affiliates. Or the days when she had been the only one worried about all of the minor things that Edric had neglected.

  She had been the backbone of Byern, and this was what it had gotten her.

  A thick rope and a six-foot drop.

  Merrick stepped up next to Edric to address the crowd, but Edric stood and pushed him backward.

  Daufina’s heart was pounding. This was the moment. This was it. He would tell everyone this was a mistake. He was a showman. He wanted everyone to know that no one was safe. Not even his favorites.

  He was standing before them, letting them know that he had a zero-tolerance policy. Next time, he would go through with it. He would do anything for the kingdom.