Wave-Touched, page 28
The wavelord gestured to her with one blade. “There, your princess is unharmed.”
Veyl scowled at him for switching back to the southern title, his faint answering smirk telling her it pleased him to annoy her again. She faced the Thaelian Feral, speaking in Vanrian now. “I’m all right. He was merely showing off his power.”
Heshara turned her anger on Veyl, the less threatening target. “You will not leave our sight again outside your private chambers.” Perhaps to emphasize the point, a spear of pain pierced through Veyl’s skull, knocking her to her knees.
The wave dancer snarled. It almost seemed as if the beast directed her anger at her bonded companion, though Veyl couldn’t focus well enough past that flare of agony to be certain. Then Heshara hit the ground in front of her, and the pain stopped. Fresh tension charged the air as Kitria hurried to Veyl’s side to help her up.
Kronach stood over the Thaelian Feral, the end of his blunted blade hovering inches from her nose. “Whatever that was, if you do it again within my halls, you will die for it. There is no place for your mind-crafting here. As I understand it, your people need the undead prince to get your land back, and he requires my support to help him secure Sarket before he can do that. Do not make yourself the reason he fails.”
He looked pointedly at Veyl, and she translated his words for Heshara exactly as he had spoken them. When she finished, she offered him a nod to let him know as much.
Without waiting for a response, he returned to his warriors and traded sword belts with one of them. “Show the princess the rest of the castle grounds,” he told them before stalking away.
She watched him leave, not as comforted as she wanted to be by the fact that he appeared to mean what he said about protecting her here.
Kitria leaned close and whispered, “Are you truly all right?”
Veyl rubbed the tender place on her wrist where he had struck her with his dagger and quietly answered, “We’ll talk about it later.”
Though a significant amount of tension remained among the Thaelians, the Eydarith warriors, who appeared to share their warlord’s confidence, provided her group with a thorough tour of the castle and grounds. Veyl paid keen attention to everything they showed her, watching carefully for any promising escape routes. The closer to Kyril’s location, the better. She asked about the areas they visited at every opportunity, making her questions frequent enough that no one was likely to wonder when she inquired about where a certain hall led or what was behind any one door.
When the Eydarith warriors showed them back to her room a few hours later, her mind raced with possibilities, all of which presented challenges, the most obvious of those being the obstacle of freeing Kyril from his cell. Heshara watched them enter the bedchamber without saying a word, though the look of loathing she gave Veyl when she shut the door behind them sent a chill through her. The moment they were alone, Veyl filled Kitria in on what had happened when the wavelord isolated her from them and who else had been there.
While they discussed ideas for escaping Taro, she worked on the missive to send to her family. It said what Jaysen wanted it to, declaring that she was with him by choice and desired a marriage that would unify their countries. She made a point of professing her love for him, because it would please him to see it written and hopefully blind him to the subtle clues she wove throughout to expose the lie of it to her parents, assuming it ever reached them. In it, she also included an earnestly phrased request for an alliance with Sarket and the release of Thaelis back to the council’s control. How he could believe Vanris would ally with him after what he had done in Thaelis she couldn’t imagine, but maybe he had a plan for trying to manipulate that narrative. She was hesitant to ask and risk pointing out a flaw in his plan that might anger him.
She had barely finished it when the door flew open and Jaysen stormed in. He slammed it behind him, his features flushed when he turned on her.
“Did Kronach lock you in a room alone with him?” he demanded.
Veyl stood, a metallic taste spreading over her tongue. “He did, but—”
He got in her face, his voice rising to a shout. “Did he touch you?”
She forced a placating smile, all too aware of how thin an edge he balanced on. “The wavelord was merely testing to see what he could get away with, but he didn’t try anything. Not that I would have let him had he done so.”
“I will kill him.”
She caught his arm when he turned toward the door. He spun back, raising a hand as if to strike her, but in his moment of hesitation she stepped closer, placing a palm against his cheek and meeting his eyes. “You won’t.” She made her voice gentle, but firm. “He can help you reclaim your throne. Use him now. Punish him later when you have the power if you feel it is necessary, but do not let his games stand in the way of your goal.”
His shoulders heaved with his fast, angry breaths, but he held her gaze. When she brushed her thumb over his cheek, the tension eased and his shoulders sank a fraction. “I don’t want him near you again.”
Veyl nodded, keeping her voice soft and placating. “We’ll be more cautious from now on.” She gestured to the desk. “Here, I wrote the missive you asked for.”
Jaysen stepped past her and picked it up, reading over it. Though she yearned to move away from him, in his explosive state she feared the action might raise his ire again, so she stood her ground, staying close enough to watch his pinched brows relax and a faint, victorious smile curve his lips as his gaze moved over her words.
After a moment, he set the missive down and turned, taking her in his arms and kissing her greedily. Her stomach twisted, and she suppressed her hatred and the threatening tears as she forced herself to kiss him in return. One of his hands slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. With the other, he brushed her hair out of his way. Releasing her mouth, he trailed kisses down her neck in an alarming display of passion. His hand slid up her side to cup her breast over the dress, and it took all of her will to keep from pulling away or tensing in his arms.
She couldn’t bear to let him do this, but how was she supposed to justify stopping him and still maintain her ruse?
He released her abruptly and drew back, breathing hard for a different reason now. “My apologies.” He adjusted the front of his pants as his gaze raked over her, never reaching her eyes. “I don’t want our first time together to be in that man’s castle.”
“I understand,” she answered, making it the breathless whisper he would expect to hear. Silently, she thanked Kronach. It seemed the wavelord was protecting her in ways neither of them could have possibly anticipated.
He picked up the missive again. “This is perfection. As you requested, I will send Gannon with Kronach’s messenger to Vanris this afternoon.”
Touching his shoulder, her pulse racing with trepidation, she asked, “Since I won’t be returning to Vanris, might I speak to Gannon before he leaves? I’d like to give him a personal message for his brother and Iyvalin. Nothing substantial enough to need writing out, just a few words to carry back to honor our friendships.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek, the sympathy in his gaze making her hate him more. “You realize they may not have survived the Unclean attack, and, even if they did, there’s a fair chance they won’t be in Vanris when he arrives there.”
She supposed he wouldn’t like it if she bit his hand, but imagining doing so helped her keep her expression from souring. “Yes, but if they did survive, they may return—”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I’d rather watch Gannon choke on his own blood for how he treated me when I lived with you, but because you asked and…” he paused, his tone softening again as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, “and because you are remembering your love for me, I will allow him to be your messenger. You may speak with him briefly before he departs, but you will keep this in mind next time you want to ask me for favors. I can’t give in to all your impulses.”
How desperately she wanted to hurt him. “Thank you,” she choked the words out past the bitter taste of resentment on her tongue.
“We’ll see him off together later. For now, I need to meet with the council and our most offensive host.”
He wouldn’t let her meet with Gannon alone, then. Not that she had expected him to, but it was still disappointing. “Remember, get what you want from the wavelord now. You can punish him for his behavior later.”
He smiled and leaned in to kiss her one more time. “You will be a marvelous queen,” he said before walking out.
Veyl put a hand to her stomach, trying not to be sick.
Kitria came over with a goblet of more sweet wine that someone had delivered while they were gone. “You look like you could use this.”
Veyl took it and used some to rinse her mouth before downing the rest in one swallow. “If I have to kiss him many more times, I may throw myself from the highest tower.”
“If I have to continue watching you do so, I may join you. I’m afraid he’s going to push for more one of these days, regardless of how he claims to feel about taking you in Kronach’s castle. We need to get you out of here.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought. “I know.”
“You could bite his tongue off.”
Veyl snorted a laugh. “That’s disgusting.”
“True, but it would serve him right.”
A servant came to add wood to the fireplace in the sparsely furnished sitting area and delivered a light meal. After eating, they turned their attention back to discussing options for escape and how they could free Kyril from his cell. One of the two warriors Veyl had seen in that corridor might have the key. But they had no way of knowing that for certain, so they tried to plan for the possibility of the key being somewhere beyond their reach. If they bolted in the middle of the night, most people would be asleep, which meant any overflow from the use of her ability would present itself merely as nightmares.
The first significant challenge was how to escape the bedroom. Two Thaelian soldiers were outside the door at all hours, and they had no windows to try climbing through. Veyl could neutralize the guards with an excessive application of her ability, its absurd strength offering a rare advantage in this situation, but that would also alert Heshara, who was staying in the next room. She and Kitria were both combat trained, so they might defeat the guards outside without utilizing her Frightener ability, but the risk of making a racket that someone could overhear increased with that approach.
“What about luring Heshara in here with a light use of your ability?” Kitria suggested. “After what happened in the courtyard, she might be more circumspect about defaulting to the zenyal bond as her first response.”
Veyl ran a finger around the rim of the goblet she had been drinking from. “That could work, but it still requires gambling on a lot of uncertainties. What if she doesn’t react as expected or if a guard cries out before we can silence them? What if we can’t find the key? We only get one chance at this. I shudder to think what Jaysen will do if we were to try and fail.”
“You should shudder,” Kitria said, a visible shiver moving through her. “He would simply kill me, along with my brother. Not that I have any desire to die, but I expect he would be a lot more creative with your punishment, since he needs you alive.”
Veyl set down the goblet, her stomach turning. A knock on the door made her jump. Heshara opened it without waiting for a response.
“We’re to escort you to the courtyard to see off your messenger.” Her tone was flat, her hard gaze making it clear she still held Veyl at fault for Kronach’s actions.
They both stood and followed her from the room. The current two guards fell in behind them, and Heshara took up position on Veyl’s left, with Seyn between them.
Part of the building Kronach was keeping Kyril in was visible from the courtyard they walked to. That corridor of cells connected to the wall that enclosed the castle grounds, making that gate their best choice for an escape attempt. In that respect, she was grateful for the opportunity to revisit the space, even if it required being around Jaysen.
Three horses waited with two of Kronach’s people and Gannon. She suspected they were sending an extra warrior along with the messenger in case Gannon caused any problems. Given how confident the Eydarith were in their skills, the addition was most likely Jaysen’s idea. It was unfortunate, but Gannon would have to make his own decisions on how to deal with that.
Jaysen was there with a few of his Thaelian soldiers. He smiled and held a hand out to her when she entered the courtyard. Forcing a smile in return, she walked up and accepted his hand, allowing him to draw her close to him. He placed a light kiss on her lips, then drew back and gave Gannon a smug smile, making it clear he had done so to provoke him. Judging by the tension in Gannon’s bearing and the way his face flushed, he had succeeded. Jaysen passed her the missive.
“Here, my love, I will let you do the honors of sending this on its journey.”
It was so hard to keep that smile on her face as she took the letter and turned to meet Gannon’s accusatory glower. She walked up to him, coming a step closer than necessary, and held the missive up.
“Please see that this ends up in my parents’ hands.”
He snatched it from her and nodded, saying nothing as he tucked it into a satchel they had provided him with.
Veyl’s nerves danced. “Also,” she said, stopping him when he started turning toward the horses, “could you tell Ahrin and Iyvalin that I miss and love them, but that I am well?”
His gaze flickered to Jaysen and back. “If I see them.”
“And be careful.” She stepped in, wrapping her arms around him in a friendly hug, and leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. “Kitria and I will try to escape tomorrow night.”
She felt the slightest tensing in him, then he hugged her briefly back.
“Take care of yourself,” he said as they parted, holding to his gruff tone, though she could see the burning desire to say more in his eyes now.
Before he could do anything that might rouse suspicion, she turned away and walked back to Jaysen, letting him slide a hand around her waist and pull her close. Gannon mounted the horse they provided for him, not looking at her as the Eydarith messenger and accompanying warrior swung up on their mounts. She watched the three trot out of the courtyard, wishing she could have said more. If their escape attempt was unsuccessful, she might never see him again.
That evening, Kronach invited them all to a formal dinner to recognize his alliance with Sarket’s rightful king. An event which, in his halls, turned out to be what she would consider a casual affair with much drinking, boisterous telling of tales, and laughter. The Eydarith women looked as fierce as the men, and their voices appeared to be granted as much weight, an unusual sight within Sarket’s borders. The people of the Eydarith—children of the Tempest—were less like other natives in their country than her academic studies led her to believe, though Sarket’s leadership had long downplayed their presence in the kingdom. A deliberate effort, perhaps, to keep outsiders from learning how separate from the rest of Sarketi culture they actually were, and how strong. They didn’t seem overly concerned by the outsiders in their midst, and an open acceptance of and respect for one another supported their authentic, fearless demeanor.
Throughout the evening, whenever Jaysen wasn’t looking in Kronach’s direction, the wavelord watched Veyl, a challenge in his gaze that left her shifting in her seat. To the rest of his people, she could have been invisible. For her part, she tried to avoid meeting Kronach’s eyes and said little, speaking solely when Jaysen asked her to translate something for the Thaelians. Otherwise, she sipped at her drink and smiled at Jaysen when his attention turned her way. Under the table, her left hand ended up in Kitria’s much of the time. She wasn’t sure which of them initiated that contact, but it offered them both comfort in a place where they had little outside of each other.
When Veyl begged off late into the evening to get some rest, Jaysen rose as if intending to join her. He stumbled, his balance sacrificed to too much drink, and grinned at her with a hunger that chilled her. One hand clumsily cupped her cheek, the gesture lacking any trace of gentleness.
“I’ll walk you…to your room,” he said with a distinct slur to his speech.
“Tell us about Thrasser, King Jaysen.” Though Kronach also slurred his speech, the sharpness in his one-eyed gaze suggested he wasn’t anywhere near as inebriated as he sounded. “He seems an impotent man to me. How do you plan to be rid of him?”
“Ha! An appropriate choice of words!” Jaysen turned to him, dropping back into his chair and raising his mug.
As he began enthusiastically recounting some tale to illustrate Thrasser’s incompetence, Veyl ducked silently from the hall with Kitria. Heshara and two guards followed them. Back in the room, she sank into a chair, resenting the tremble of fear in her hands.
Kitria scooted another chair closer and placed a hand on her arm. “Do you think he might seek you out later tonight?”
Veyl nodded, swallowing against the bile that rushed up in her throat at the prospect. “I don’t know if I can let him…”
“I suspect Kronach will try to keep him until he’s too drunk to follow through.” The slight faltering of Kitria’s smirk didn’t inspire confidence. “You know, I doubted the Qwilki when they started calling you Seh’hali, but I can’t help wondering if there’s something to it now. The wavelord clearly believes there is a connection to their ocean god in you. Whatever it is, it’s working in our favor right now.”
Veyl barely heard her words. She shuddered, remembering Jaysen’s hand on her breast, his lips against her neck. Every time he kissed her, she despised it more. How much longer could it go on before her willpower faltered at the wrong moment?
Kitria squeezed her hand. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll finalize our plans and leave this nightmare behind.”
Veyl merely nodded.
***
