The Guardian Prince, page 19
Returning her glass to the table, Sabine looked once more to Diera. From the corner of her vision, she caught Amala glaring at her.
It was a brief but venomous look, and Sabine knew exactly what it meant. She, herself, had glared at Elise that way when she had found her sister kissing Kenrick.
Sabine almost laughed. Amala must have seen the exchange with Aodhan, but to think it could mean. . . to suppose that he. . . that an Aethel prince would possibly. . .
Suddenly, Sabine didn’t know where to look. What if Amala was right? What if the prince—but no, that couldn’t be. She was a Human, after all, the worst enemy of Aodhan’s people. Every other protestation stemmed from that one. He was a prince, she an escaped slave, no matter what title they had slapped on her for the night. His purpose was to protect his sister, hers to serve that same sister. No, it was too much to even consider.
And yet. . . Sabine focused on her bowl to keep herself from glancing at Aodhan again. What if it were possible? Would she even want it?
An Aethel appeared at her side, switching the remains of her bowl of soup for a third course of meat, but Sabine was too distracted to notice which kind or how it was prepared. She longed to get up, to get away from the banquet, but to leave would be an unforgivable breech of etiquette. Besides, she admonished herself, Amala had only misread the situation.
Sabine spent the rest of the meal in a daze. Remaining as polite as she could without making any more eye contact with Aodhan or Amala, she focused her attention on Tayte. Once she noted something unspoken pass between Maeron and Amala and would have guessed that Maeron was beginning to win Amala’s attention if it had not been for Amala’s reaction to Aodhan’s acknowledgement of Sabine. Whenever Sabine felt drawn to glance at Aodhan, she looked to Kyar instead, as the two visited frequently throughout the night. Inevitably, however, her gaze slipped to the prince.
No matter how much Sabine believed Amala to be mistaken, Sabine’s stomach clenched, and her breath caught in her throat every time she thought about what Aodhan’s earlier look might have meant. She needed to get out, to go somewhere quiet and analyze what she was feeling and why, but the meal just carried on, course after course.
When the banquet finally came to an end, Sabine heaved a mental sigh of relief only to realize, as Diera stood after the Queen, that the entire party was to exit the hall in the same order that they had entered, with Sabine walking in front of Aodhan. If Amala was right, if there was even the slightest possibility that Aodhan’s subtle toast meant what Amala thought. . . the implications made heat rush to Sabine’s head. The anticipation of seeing that look on his face again, to confront that type of emotion, made her light-headed.
The anxiety clenching her stomach twisted into a knot as Diera left the table after her mother. Sabine’s throat went dry when Amala stepped into place behind the princess. As Amala passed by and Aodhan rounded the high table on the other end, Sabine’s breath disappeared.
Suddenly, Aodhan was there, looking at her but also through her, as he had mostly done since his convalescence at her home in Khapor. When Sabine stepped in place before him, he gave no indication that anything at all had passed between them. At first Sabine was confused, then relieved. Nothing had happened, then, and she had no need to worry. That thought, however, was followed by a third recollection of Tayte’s advice to control her expressions and a realization that Aodhan was a master of this ability.
Could that explain his behavior now? What if whatever had passed between them at dinner carried some significance after all? Sabine imagined him watching her as she exited the hall in front of him, and the small of her back began to tingle.
What if he wanted to talk to her once they left the Hall?
Sabine’s desire to flee grew out of control. Focusing on her breathing, she resolved to handle any attention from Aodhan as nonchalantly as she could. She need not have worried, however, for the moment they crossed into the foyer, Amala whispered something to the princess, who nodded. Bidding her mother and brother good night, Diera allowed Amala to guide her back to her rooms.
Without looking at Aodhan, Sabine followed. Never had she appreciated Amala so much as she did at this moment.
Sabine rolled over in her bed for what must have been the seventy-third time. Although she wasn’t officially counting, she had tossed and turned so much during the past watch that she now felt as tangled up in her blankets as her thoughts were tangled in her mind. She couldn’t escape the memory of Aodhan’s nod at the feast or the expression that had crossed Amala’s face. Even though she kept telling herself she was making too much of a meaningless gesture, the question of what if reverberated through her head. What if Amala had guessed correctly? What if Aodhan was becoming attracted to Sabine? What if. . .
Throwing her blankets back, Sabine huffed and sat up. Sleep was obviously out of the question, so she might as well get out of bed and burn off some energy. Stepping into her dressing room, she donned a dress and her cloak, then drifted out of Diera’s apartment and down the stairs with Bree a silent shadow at her heels.
She almost chuckled when she arrived at the entrance to the gardens. Although she had not intentionally set out for this exact location, it made sense that it was where she would end up. In Khapor she had always gardened when her mind was troubled. Something about the physical activity quieted the restlessness that twitched in her muscles and allowed her to think more clearly. Only, there was no work for her to do here.
Sabine grimaced. The exercise of walking would have to suffice. Savoring the rich but cold aroma of tilled soil and mulch, she assessed the glowing orbs that floated among the bare branches of the trees. They provided plenty of light to see by, so she need not worry about tripping or losing her way.
Nearby, someone giggled. Sabine tensed until she heard another voice laugh in reply and remembered what Diera had said about some people being active all night. While keeping a night-long vigil was no longer a required part of the Inlixen celebration, it was still traditional, and many chose to forgo sleep in favor of revelry as token observance of the custom.
The laughter preceded a couple who passed where another path intersected the walkway Sabine now followed. At the sight of them, Sabine imagined walking with Aodhan in the same way, and her stomach churned. It wasn’t that he was Aethel and she was Human. Although uncommon, marriages between races had occurred before the war. Tayte had even been married to a Human in her village for a while. No, the thought that terrified Sabine was the exposure that being in a relationship would bring. She had trusted Kenrick, had placed all her confidence in the belief of his steadfast devotion, yet he had tossed her aside in the space of a breath when given the opportunity to marry her sister. Yes, she now knew that was for a deeper reason, but it had taken her years to recover, and she was not eager to put herself in the same position. What sense did it make to risk that kind of pain twice?
Sabine paused as another Aethel crossed her path. Of course, she was probably worrying about nothing, but suppose for one moment that she wasn’t. Now was hardly the time to start a relationship. She was trying to stop the Rüddan from completely subjugating—maybe even exterminating—her people. A relationship with Aodhan would only complicate matters. Not to mention all the damage that could be done to her cause if something were to go wrong. No, even if Aodhan’s interest in her was romantic, no good could come of it. She should just stay focused on the task at hand and fix her attention on finding the godstone.
A group of four or five Aethel appeared from around a corner beyond a bed of crimson winter blooms. Rather than deal with passing them, Sabine ducked beneath a nearby arch and stepped onto a side path. She only intended to wait until the group had moved on, but something about the light that glowed within this dimmer part of the garden caught her attention. This light was faint, but that could be explained by the foliage that shielded it. There was something else, though, something that reminded her of the Ayrhim.
Intrigued, Sabine followed the pale glow. This light was not tinged with the same blue as the others that hovered in the gardens. Rather, it radiated a pale tone of purple, just like the glow that emanated from all of the Ayrhim she had seen. So much like it that, when she finally discovered the source of the glow, Sabine so expected to find a white animal of some sort that it took her a moment to interpret what she actually saw.
“It’s called Ayrhim’s bane.”
Sabine jumped and clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling a yelp. It was bad enough that the Aethel had startled her, but realizing that she was alone in the dark with Aodhan. . . Sabine dropped her hand to her side. She tried to swallow, to regain her composure, but her mouth was suddenly dry, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“The blooms only open at night,” Aodhan continued, apparently unaware of the reaction he had caused.
“Why do they call it Ayrhim’s bane?” Sabine asked, but her throat was so tight that her voice scratched and crackled. Clearing her windpipe, she repeated herself, this time to better effect.
Get control of yourself, she thought as Aodhan answered. Nothing has changed, so don’t act the fool.
“You’ve changed.”
“What?” Sabine startled, refocusing her attention.
Aodhan gestured in her direction, waving a finger down and up. “Your dress. It’s not the one you wore to dinner.”
“Oh, I. . .” heat flushed Sabine’s cheeks. “I didn’t want to ruin the other one.”
“By walking in the garden?”
Sabine blushed again. “I didn’t want to catch it on a branch or trail it through some mud. You know, on accident. . .”
She tried to think of something else to say, but her mind was too scattered. Anything she might add seemed either too frivolous or irrelevant. Staring miserably at the luminous blooms of the Ayrhim’s bane, she wished Diera were there to fill the silence.
“Is this your first Inlixen celebration?” Aodhan asked at last.
Sabine nodded. “The Rüddan don’t allow Humans to observe religious holidays.”
As soon as she spoke the words, Sabine wished them back. Of course, Aodhan already knew all about the ways the Rüddan inhibited her people. He was the one who had informed her of some of them during his convalescence at her home in Khapor. Resisting the urge to sigh, she tried steering the conversation in another direction “Do you stay up all night?”
Aodhan nodded. “It’s custom.”
“How? I mean,” Sabine tried to ignore the fluttering that pulsed through her stomach every time she misspoke. “What do you do to keep yourself awake?”
Before he could reply, a loud voice called from behind Sabine. “I told them I would find you here.”
Sabine jumped, startled yet somehow relieved to be interrupted.
“I knew you would be hiding here,” Gaelan repeated to Aodhan as he approached. “You always flee the crowd as soon as it’s polite.”
“I have enough to do with crowds,” Aodhan replied. His tone suggested this argument was worn out.
“And yet, duty requires even more. Koen and I have been challenged to a searthen match, and we need a third. As I don’t fancy losing to the Tomaraen brothers, you’re our man.” Gaelan glanced at Sabine. “You are welcome to watch, but matches are played by trios only.”
“No, thank you,” Sabine said, perhaps a bit too quickly. Eager to be away, she cast about for an excuse to flee. “I should. . . um. . . should go check on the princess."
Retreating with as much calm grace as she could muster, Sabine excused herself. She didn’t even remember that Bree was with her until halfway back to her room, when the dog bumped against her on the stairwell.
Once they returned to her chamber, Sabine sank to the ground near the dog, lavishing Bree with extra attention as a way of making up for her oversight. Scratching the dog’s ribs while she stared into the fire, Sabine pondered the possibility of a relationship with Aodhan yet again.
Chapter Seventeen
Sabine scowled at the book in her lap. Well, not at the book so much as the words in it. In particular, the specific word she was trying to translate but couldn’t. Although Tayte told her she was expecting to be able to understand too much too soon, she still maintained the practice of studying on her own. She believed it would help cement the vocabulary she was learning into her brain and also help her pick up the meanings of other words.
Today, however, it wasn’t doing anything except vexing her. Maybe it was because she had hardly slept last night, or maybe it was because when she had slept, she had endured nightmares about all of the things that could go wrong if she were to jump into a relationship with Aodhan. Whatever the cause, the effect was a brain that felt heavy, filled with thoughts that trickled as laboriously as damp sand.
At her feet, Bree rolled onto her side and sighed.
“My thoughts exactly,” Sabine muttered. Closing the book, she placed it on a nearby side table and surveyed the parlor. There was still no sound of movement in Diera’s chamber, but the princess had told Sabine that it was rare for anyone to be out of bed before the third watch following Inlixen. So Sabine had a whole watch to herself before anyone else in the castle began to stir.
“I imagine you need to go outside.” Sabine eyed the dog, who thumped her tail on the floor in response. Sabine grinned. “Very well. Let me grab my cloak.”
Moments later Sabine led Bree out of the apartment, closing the door softly in order to avoid waking Diera and Amala. As she and the dog walked down the hall, Sabine’s attention was drawn, as it always was, to Nayson’s door. It had become custom to watch and listen for any signs that Amala might be inside even when she knew Amala was elsewhere.
Maybe that’s why she heard the sound.
Sabine stopped. Unsure she had not imagined the noise, she eased up to the door and listened.
The sound came again, a rustling that hinted at someone who didn’t want to be heard moving within.
Sabine glanced at Bree. Although she had assumed Amala was still in bed, she had not seen the Aethel woman since dinner last night. If Amala were sneaking around inside the apartment, she could not be doing anything good, so it sort of fell to Sabine to find out what the other woman was up to.
But what if Amala caught her?
On the other hand, what did it matter? Sabine was only investigating the situation to make sure all was as it should be. If Amala were inside, what could she do? It wasn’t as if she could attack Sabine.
At this thought, Sabine hesitated. After all, Amala wielded magic, and Sabine had no idea if the Aethel woman was trained to fight.
Another rustle sounded beyond the door.
Quit hesitating, the voice of Sabine’s mother scolded in her thoughts. Steadying her resolve, Sabine considered Bree. Leaving the dog in the hallway would attract attention if anyone passed by and having the dog with her might serve as an advantage. Even though Bree was not trained to defend, Amala didn’t know that.
“Stay close,” Sabine whispered to the dog. Turning the doorknob ever so slowly, she eased open the door just enough to get a glimpse inside.
The portion of the room that she could see was empty, and she heard no noise, so she opened the door a little more. She repeated this action until she could see the entire room.
The entire empty room.
Sabine sighed. Certain her fatigue and anxiety were beginning to make her jumpy, she decided to close the door and go on her way.
Until she heard the rustle in one of the bedrooms.
Moving quickly, Sabine stepped inside, closed the door with a soft click, and ducked behind a nearby chair. When another muffled sound assured her she was not imagining things, she stalked the noise to the room that was positioned in this suite exactly where Amala’s room was positioned in Diera’s apartment.
Sabine edged to the open door, imagining and discarding a dozen courses of action while she pondered what she would do, exactly, if she found anyone inside. Still undecided, she peered around the doorframe.
She saw only another empty room.
A moment later Bree darted through the door, growling as she raced toward the chamber’s dressing room.
“Bree!” Sabine hissed, lunging after the dog.
A sharp bark followed by a high-pitched squeal told Sabine the truth of the situation before she saw it. Bree had cornered a rat the size of a small cat and now faced it, growling.
Sabine shuddered, her discussion with Gaelan about soldiers on rat duty coming to mind. She glanced around for something she could use to fend off the rat but found nothing. She needed to separate Bree from the rat before the dog’s barking betrayed their presence in a place they really should not be found. Lunging for the dog, Sabine grabbed fists full of fur at Bree’s nape and eased her pet backward while focusing her attention on the rodent. Once outside the dressing room, Sabine slammed the door closed and slumped to the ground against it.
“It’s okay,” she muttered to Bree, soothing the dog even as she tried to catch her breath. “Leave it alone.”
While she waited for the dog to relax and for her own nerves to come down from high alert, Sabine surveyed Nayson’s former study.
Where the rest of his apartment appeared the same as before, this room commanded her attention in a new way because now she was able to read some of the titles on the spines of the books. From what she could pick out, most of them appeared to be historical tomes or texts devoted to the in-depth study of Torian or the Creator God. The walls, she now realized, were hung with maps.
The theological texts made Sabine smirk—based on what Aodhan and Diera had told her, she had not imagined Nayson to be a disciple of Torian. Still, one could be interested without being devoted. However, it was the maps that caught her attention the most. Nothing like the maps of the world that Tayte sometimes showed to her, these appeared to be more detailed depictions of smaller portions of land. One displayed major holdings and physical details of the Ice Plains of the north; one focused on a mountain range, with Zythril Volcano marked in spidery writing across a large circle in the middle. Another depicted a horseshoe-shaped body of water that bisected a river. The horse-shoe portion was labeled Ceryn’s Tears.
