A shout went up from the guards outside the palace gates as Elia approached. She kept her head down. The rest of her journey home was untroubled, yet she’d cried so long her tears had left raw marks on her cheeks.
She’d gone as fast as she could, but with no provisions, her stamina had begun to flag by the middle of the first day. Even with the benefit of the ring—which she still didn’t fully understand—it had been difficult, and more than once, she’d stopped to thank the Light that clean snow remained on the ground.
A guard hurried forward with a cloak in his hands. He draped it around her shoulders and she did not fight. Elia was aware of him asking if she was all right, but the words were like a dull droning and she waved a hand to stave off any more inquiries. Hunger gnawed at her like a beast in her belly and she teetered unsteadily as he escorted her through the gates.
The guard passed her off to another at the doors. “Get her somewhere to rest. Let Her Majesty know at once.”
“I need to speak with the king. Urgently.” Elia would not object to seeing Thea and hearing her thoughts on all that had transpired, but Gaius was the one who had given permission for this expedition. She grimaced at the thought. No; he’d allowed it because she’d suggested it, and she’d suggested it because Thea put the idea in her head. Why had she ever thought she was capable of being an informant? All she’d managed in the end was hurting someone who cared about her.
Who loved her.
She’d hardly scraped the pieces of her heart back together, and they already threatened to tumble free. No man had ever said such words to her, yet the first time she’d heard them, they’d been shared in disgust.
Had she any more tears left, they might have blinded her at the thought, but all that remained was an aching hollow.
She kept her eyes on the floor as the guard escorted her through the palace. It was still early, the sun only just having crested the horizon. She did not know where the king would be, if he would be in the palace at all, but the guard seemed to have a good idea of where she should be. The cloak around her shoulders grew stifling, but she did not try to shrug it off.
The guard led her to one of many receiving parlors, not to sit, but because one of the king’s stewards was there. “Lady Elia wishes to speak with His Majesty,” the guard said, his voice low. As if she weren’t standing right next to him, able to hear every word.
The steward regarded both of them with a frown. “It’s far too early for that. He won’t be receiving guests for several hours, at least.”
“I am no guest,” she interjected, startling them both. “His Majesty sent me on a mission and I’ve returned to report. You will fetch him at once, as this is a matter of urgency.”
The steward stared, taken aback, but he did not protest. Instead, he shut his mouth and scuttled from the room.
Elia dared not feel relief that it was so simple. “Your turn. Fetch Thea. I have need of her, too, as soon as my meeting with His Majesty is over.”
The guard grew troubled. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but I have no such authority.”
“Then I grant you the authority, as her nearest relative who has desperate need of her advice. Wait ten minutes if you must, so that I have a chance to speak with the king first, but I must see her.” She sat down on one of the couches and shrugged out of the cloak, relieving some of the heat. The ring’s effect had abated somewhat, leading her to believe its effect had something to do with the ambient temperature, but it was not an immediate change. It faded slowly, reminding her of the way cast iron cooled after it was removed from heat.
For a moment, she thought the way the guard stood there meant he would protest. Eventually, he muttered something under his breath and removed himself from the parlor.
Elia remained seated, her hands clasped in her lap as the snow melted from her boots to leave dark marks on the carpet.
At last, the door swung open. She stood as a pair of guards slipped inside, followed by the king. Gaius was normally so composed, yet the man before her scrubbed a hand through disheveled golden hair. He struck her as half-dressed, wearing fine breeches and polished boots, but a rumpled and plain shirt with some sort of robe over the top.
“I thought you were a morning person,” Elia said without a thought. Half a second later, she realized what she’d done and dipped into a bow. “Your Majesty.”
“Under normal circumstances, I am,” he replied, untroubled by her informality, if he’d noticed it at all. He was a strange king, dangerously strict in some areas and remarkably forgiving in others, but she suspected it was her closeness to his wife that allowed her such leniency. “I’ve had far too many late nights in recent days.” He crossed to the couch opposite of the one she’d chosen and sank to sitting, motioning for her to do the same.
She settled and waited for instruction.
“Tea,” Gaius said to a servant that hovered at the door, present enough to listen and yet out of the way. “And breakfast. Something light. See if my wife has already risen and send her to me, if she has.”
“I already requested her presence, Your Majesty,” Elia said softly.
“Did you? Good.” He paused, peering at her through gray eyes clouded by more than just weariness. “You come with bad news.”
“That depends.” She worried her hands before she caught herself and clenched them together in her lap.
“Not if that’s how you speak of it.” Gaius stroked his unshaven chin for a moment. “Thea wishes for me to let my beard grow. She said she liked it when we completed our travels and it had grown in, but was still short. What do you think?”
Elia blinked. “Um, a beard is nice, Your Majesty.”
“Hm.” He gave a slow nod, then laced his fingers together and leaned forward to rest his elbows atop his knees. “So. Report, but keep it brief. Most of what you’ve heard and learned isn’t important. Begin with our friend, Lord Daros.”
Lord? Her forehead crinkled, but she put the question aside for later. It didn’t matter. Of course he’d have a title, if he’d once served as spymaster to the Nylmerian crown. “He was sent to Kentoria because people throughout Nylmeres had been kidnapped. That, coupled with Queen Eccenthe’s death shortly after her return to Nylmeres, led them to believe you were responsible.”
“In more ways than one, I should imagine.” A wry sort of smile twisted his mouth. “Did he still believe that, after our encounter?”
“No.” She opened her mouth to expand on her answer, then shut it again. It didn’t matter how Cass had reached that conclusion or why, not unless the king asked.
Gaius nodded. “I am not responsible. And Cassian is good at what he does, so he should know this.”
“If he’s that good at it, and you knew who he was, why did you let him wander loose in Kentoria?” The question escaped before she thought better of it. Questioning the king’s motives was unwise.
All he did was smirk. “A tool is not useful if kept locked away. Trust me. I have my reasons. Is that the only reason he was sent to Kentoria? Did he intend to return to Nylmeres immediately after our encounter?”
Elia shook her head. “He found something else. A group with ties to the people responsible for the kidnappings. They took Peretor, they intended to take me, and they seem to have been responsible for the disappearances in Nylmeres, too. From what I gathered.”
The king said nothing.
Uncomfortable, she went on. “He infiltrated their group with the intention of gathering information on who had hired them. He became one of the leaders, alongside an Angrothi woman named Banne. She appears to be an assassin.”
“Banne?” The faintest of lines formed between his brows. “I’ve not heard of her.”
Elia hesitated. “Do you know many assassins?”
“That should not come as a surprise to you.”
Of course. She flushed and bowed her head. “I believe Banne is the one who killed Eccenthe.”
Gaius remained still, but his eyes sharpened. “Where is she now?”
The parlor door opened and Thea stepped in, flanked by two maids with trays of food and things for tea. Elia bit her lower lip and waited for the maids to put down their things and prepare teacups. She didn’t know who it was safe to speak before. The king said nothing, indicating she was right to wait.
“I didn’t expect you’d be home so soon,” Thea said as she settled beside her husband. She murmured a sweet thank-you to the maids as they finished serving breakfast.
“I didn’t, either.” Elia watched the maids depart, then glanced to the king.
Gaius gave a slight nod. “I have worked hard to weed potential problems from my serving staff, but that means hiring more. Many are unproven, and servants often have loose tongues.”
“What about guards?” She gave the men beside the door a sidelong look.
He chuckled. “Sometimes. But not these. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “She attacked us in the woods, but gave up when she saw she was outmatched, I think. She ran. Cass went after her.”
“And left you?”
Elia paused.
“He left you? Or did you choose to leave?” Gaius pressed, albeit gently.
A lump rose in her throat. She swallowed hard against it, but it didn’t subside. She had to be truthful. “He realized I’d been watching things unfold. Intending to carry information back to you.”
The king searched her face. “Is that it?”
Thea leaned forward, full of worry.
Elia had thought it impossible that she could contain more tears, yet there they were, trickling past her eyelashes to make their way down her too-red cheeks. She clenched her hands tighter in her lap and struggled to keep her voice even. She’d asked for a job. She’d received it. The least she had to do was see it through to the end, and her report on the situation was not yet finished. “He said he’d loved me.”
Without a word, Thea pushed herself up and crossed to Elia’s couch. She sat down and drew her into a hug.
Slowly, Gaius leaned back in his seat, absently stroking his jaw.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Elia whispered as she burrowed into her cousin’s shoulder and let herself be held. “That’s the last thing I’d want. He was so kind, from the very beginning. There were times I feared he might be using me, but he wasn’t. Not ever. He sacrificed all his work to aid me when I got myself in trouble, Thea, and I repaid him with a broken heart.”
Thea stroked her hair, though her fingertips lingered at the short-shorn curls on one side. “You couldn’t have known. You aren’t to blame for people adoring you, Elia. You’re so very easy to love.”
In that moment, she felt as lovable as a viper. Elia sniffed hard and wiped her eyes, wincing at the way it stung. “I have to fix this, but I don’t know how.”
“It’s not your job to fix everything for everyone,” Thea said. “You should know that by now.”
Elia shook her head. “No. For me, this time. I have to fix this for me.”
Her cousin pulled back to grip her by the shoulders. “Elia—”
She didn’t have time to ask, for Gaius exhaled hard and pushed himself up from the couch.
Thea turned in her seat. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Banne. I know who she is.” He strode across the room, to a small desk that sat at the far wall.
Right. Elia dabbed her tears away with her sleeve and gathered her composure. She had not yet been given indication her report was satisfactory, and the hasty way the king removed a piece of paper from the drawer indicated there was still work to be done.
“Albanhaite. I would put money on it,” Gaius said. He did not sit to write, merely leaning over the desk the moment he had a bottle of ink ready. “An assassin for Angroth once, but she was cast out when the previous queen took the throne. Either the newest Angrothi queen has drawn her back into service, or she’s found somewhere else to ply her trade.”
“Someone you’ve faced?” Thea kept a hand on Elia’s shoulder, reassuring her that their conversation was not being dismissed.
“No. I began work young, but not that young. But she has enough reason to hunt me, and depending on whose employ she is under now, their reason may be even greater. It may surprise you to learn there are those who would wish me ill.” He gave a sardonic smile. “Me, and the Nylmerian king.”
A pang of dread struck Elia’s stomach. “Cass feared his king was in danger.”
“Which is why I fear your work is not yet done,” the king said.
“Gaius,” Thea said, his name halfway between reprimand and concern.
He never looked up from his writing. “You’re fortunate Elia is family, or I would have to punish you for taking that tone with me. I am the king.”
“And I am your wife,” Thea protested.
“In a few more weeks.”
“Gaius!”
“Keep it up, and I’ll reinstate your taxes.” He put away the ink and lit a candle, then cleaned his pen as he waited for the small spoon of wax pellets to heat.
Thea snorted.
Elia bit her lip and bowed her head, feeling an unwelcome spectator to their playful spat.
The king folded two pieces of paper and inserted them into a pale cream envelope, then poured sealing wax onto its surface. “I wish it had not come to this,” he said as he pressed his signet ring into the wax and waited for it to cool. “And I apologize that I must ask more of you after all you’ve been through. This cannot wait. You’ve been the one to accompany their spymaster on this mission. You have seen everything he has, and he can verify everything you say is true. By that basis, you are the only one I can count on being granted an audience with King Valdessic of Nylmeres.”
Her breath escaped her in a rush. “An audience with—Your Majesty, the capital of Nylmeres is weeks from here!”
“All the more reason for you to leave immediately. If she is who I believe, this assassin poses a remarkable threat and would pose some challenge, even for me.” Gaius turned with the letter in hand. “You will have one of my most skilled riders by your side, and the swiftest horses Kentoria has to offer, refreshed at every waypoint.”
“You’re asking too much of her,” Thea said. “She hasn’t trained like you or your men.”
“She was the one who asked to work as my eyes and ears,” the king replied. “Now I must ask her to be my voice for this delivery. I cannot afford to leave you. You are my greatest treasure, and I am your best defense.”
Elia pushed herself up from the couch. “I’ll go.”
Her cousin looked up at her, one hand over her heart. “Elia, please be sure. I’ve been through mountains in winter. I know what this means.”
“I understand, but I’ve already decided.” She gave Thea a long, heartfelt look, then crossed to accept the letter from the king’s hands.
She’d make the ride and deliver the warning, and hopefully, she would return when everything was over. There was no way to know if she would cross paths with Cass again, but as she cradled the envelope to her stomach and guarded it with both hands, she prayed that she would.
She held no hope that she would be forgiven, but she would apologize, all the same.
Fixing things was her specialty. For once, it was her own problem to fix.
