Authors: Shari Lambert
Tags: #romance, #love, #fantasy, #magic, #sorcery, #quest, #sword
And then Maren saw it. “To Deprive a Mage of
Power.” It was complicated and with ingredients she’d never heard
of. And it only took the power temporarily. But… Her mind spun. If
she could get some of it to Kern, his spell would fade. Everyone
would see him for who he truly was. They would see the city for how
it truly was.
“This is it,” she said, pointing to the
bottom corner of the page. “This would work, and everyone would
know the truth. If we plan it right, we might even be able to kill
Kern before the potion wears off.”
Philip stared at it for a long time, his
eyes tracing over the potion – the ingredient list, the
instructions, everything – almost as if he were evaluating the
risk.
“It’s good,” he finally said, almost
hopeful. “It could work.”
“Yes,” Kira said. “But unless either of you
can brew a potion, we have no idea how to make it. Let alone know
what even half those ingredients are.”
Maren turned to Philip. “Can you do it?”
He shook his head.
“That leaves Halef,” Maren said. “But I
can’t go into the city. Kern would never allow it.”
Kira set her chin. “I’ll do it. I go into
the city all the time. There’s no reason to suspect anything out of
the ordinary.”
Maren’s first instinct was to say no. She’d
already endangered enough people. She didn’t need to add Kira to
the list.
“You can’t say no, Maren.” Kira crossed her
arms over her chest. “You can’t go. Philip can’t go either because
Kern watches him too closely. I’m the only one who can do
this.”
Maren cringed. “All right. But tell them
immediately you’re looking for Halef so no one bothers you.”
“All right.” Kira
hesitated. “And
I have another idea. If
Kern wants Philip to hate you so badly, why don’t we give him what
he wants? Why don’t we make Kern think Philip has moved
on?”
It took a minute for her words to sink in.
“You mean you? You want Philip to pretend to be in love with
you.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but I
promise...” Kira threw a sidelong glance at Philip. “I’m not in
love with him anymore. It would all be an act.”
Maren took her hands. “That doesn’t mean it
will be easy.”
Kira shrugged. “None of this is easy, and if
this is something I can do to help it succeed, it will be worth
it.”
“Philip?” Maren looked over to find him
frowning.
“I’m not in the habit of playing with
people’s emotions,” he said, guilt etched into every line of his
face. “Especially with how I’ve acted in the past.” He looked back
and forth between both ladies. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Kira asked. “For being hurt and
manipulated and part of a game none of us knew we were
playing?”
“For using you to make Maren angry.”
Kira almost smiled. “It’s not like I didn’t
let you. And believe me, I knew exactly what you were doing.”
“So?” Maren asked. “Can you do it? Can you
make Kern believe he’s already won – at least this part?”
Kira and Philip looked at each other and
then back at her and nodded – right as they heard Kern in the
hallway.
“Have you seen Lady Maren?” he asked
someone, probably a servant.
Philip’s eyes darted to hers, full of more
than fear. Terror.
Kira went so pale, Maren thought she might
pass out.
“Hurry,” Maren said, standing with her back
to the door. “Pretend I interrupted something.”
Kira understood immediately, rushing to
Philip’s side and tucking her hand in his just as Kern opened the
door.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked, one
side of his mouth slanting slowly upwards as he glanced between the
three occupants.
Kira somehow managed to look condescending
as she stepped even closer to Philip. “Maren happened to walk in at
the wrong time.”
Kern’s eyes lit up. “I see.”
Kira giggled. She really was good at
this.
Kern walked over and slapped Philip’s
shoulder, shooting Maren a glance of triumph. “Can’t say I’m
surprised.”
Philip’s jaw clenched. “Yes, well, I can’t
ignore women forever.”
“No,” Kern laughed. “And who better than
Lady Kira.” He gave Kira a small bow before offering his arm to
Maren. “Would you like to walk in the gardens, my dear?”
She took his offered arm.
“Would the two of you like to join us?” Kern
asked.
“No.” Philip’s voice was too curt. He was
going to ruin everything.
“Thank you for the offer,” Kira quickly
interjected, a mischievous light in her eye. “But we were enjoying
our previous activity.”
Kern let out a grunt of appreciative
laughter. “Then by all means continue.”
Maren let him lead her from the room, but
just as she turned to close the door, she couldn’t help but see
Philip’s face, now contorted in worry and anger. She gave him a
small, reassuring smile.
Which she hoped was enough to keep him from
doing something they’d all regret.
Twenty-six
Maren stopped
outside the drawing room where she knew Kern, Daric, and Adare
waited. They’d chosen today, this gathering, because it was so
informal. Just the four of them. Kern would never suspect. At least
she hoped so.
Halef had assured Kira the potion would
work. Unfortunately, it was all he could make. One of the
ingredients, Catua leaf, was nonexistent. He’d used his last
supplies. But Daric would be there. No matter how powerful Kern was
now, once that power was gone, Daric was the better swordsman, and
since the siege, he always kept it at his side. And Philip was in
the next room, waiting for the spell to fade before he rushed in
with his own sword ready. This was going to work. It had to. She
straightened her shoulders and stepped into the room.
Daric planted a kiss on each of her cheeks
before ushering her to a seat next to Adare, who was already
pouring out the tea.
“You look so much better.”
She smiled. She needed to act normal. Kern
couldn’t suspect what she had planned. “I feel better.”
She accepted Kern’s cup when Adare passed it
to her, and while she went through the motions of adding cream,
dumped in the contents of the small vial. Somehow she managed to
keep her hands from shaking.
She handed the cup to Kern. “Would you like
anything else? Cake? Some cheese?”
“No, thank you.” He set his cup on the
table. “This is perfect.”
“Well, now that we’re all settled,” Daric’s
eyes gleamed with excitement, “I have a surprise for the two of
you.”
She glanced at Kern, but he wouldn’t meet
her eyes.
Daric’s smile grew even bigger. “I know it’s
customary to have a year-long engagement. However, in your case, I
think we need to make an exception.” A touch of sadness clouded his
features. “We don’t know how much time we have, and I want you to
enjoy it to the fullest. Next week, I’m holding a banquet in honor
of your engagement and setting the date of your wedding for one
month from now.”
She froze, acutely aware that Kern’s tea
still sat untouched on the table, and absorbed Daric’s words. No.
She couldn’t marry Kern. She’d only become engaged to him with the
knowledge she’d die before they were ever married. But actual
marriage…
“Maren?” Daric grabbed her hand. “I thought
you’d be happy.”
She pasted on a smile. “I am. I just don’t
know what to say, how to express my thanks.”
“Don’t,” he said. “Anything I do for you
pales in comparison to what you’ve done for me.”
Adare took her other hand. “Just be happy.
For as long as you can. You’ve found something most people don’t
ever find.”
Yes, she had. But not with Kern.
“We will be happy,” Kern interjected. “I
promise.”
She somehow found it in herself to smile
before she stood. “A toast. To happiness. And love. And life.”
They all raised their cups, and she held her
breath as Kern reached for his. Only his hand closed around the hot
cup instead of the handle. He instantly dropped it, letting out a
loud hiss of pain, and Maren was left staring at the floor, where
the brown liquid quickly disappeared into the lush carpet.
She sank back onto the sofa, vaguely aware
of Kern giving some kind of apology while Daric grabbed a
napkin.
Then there was laughing, and words like
“fiancé” and “beautiful” and “banquet.” She barely heard any of it,
couldn’t look away from the ugly stain on the floor, reminded how
in one moment all her hopes had been crushed.
It was Adare’s hand on her arm that finally
snapped her back into the present.
“So?” Adare smiled. “The banquet.”
Maren made her mouth curve up in what she
hoped was a smile. “It sounds like a perfect idea.”
“But are you sure?” Kern asked. “With
everything that needs to happen in a month’s time, we’re going to
be incredibly busy.”
“You have no idea,” Daric laughed. “Adare
hasn’t had a wedding to plan since our own. And I think she wants
yours to be even larger.”
“I think that might be taking it a bit far.”
Kern’s smile was his most charming, and Maren again felt sick. “For
now, let’s just focus on the banquet. It’s the start of a new
chapter.”
His words slithered over her and she
shivered, convinced that Kern was done waiting.
The minute Maren
stepped out of the door, she ran, desperation clogging every
rational thought. It hadn’t worked. None of it. They were at square
one again, with no idea how to kill Kern or save Daric.
She ran until she couldn’t anymore and then
collapsed onto her knees, her breath coming in gasps.
Then strong arms lifted her from the ground
and held her tight – until she finally felt in control again.
“What happened?” Philip asked.
“He spilled his tea on the carpet before he
even took a sip.”
“Then we’ll just have to think of something
else,” he said.
“What
else?” She looked up
into his face.
He just shook his head and pulled her close
again. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
“Well, we’d better think of something
because that entire lunch was so that Daric could waive the year
engagement requirement because of my health. The wedding is in a
month.”
“There’s not going to be a wedding.” She’d
never heard Philip’s voice so rough. “Not if I have anything to say
about it.”
“But you don’t,” she said. “Not unless we
can stop Kern. And I’d rather die than be married to him. To have
him own me and—”
Philip’s lips claimed hers as if she’d be
ripped from him at any second. With love, and longing, and a sense
of commitment that left her kissing him back with a fierceness she
didn’t even know she possessed.
“I’ll find a way,” he finally whispered into
her hair. “No matter what I have to do.”
Which didn’t ease her mind. What could he do
against his own father, who also happened to be the most powerful
mage to ever live?
Maren paced back
and forth in front of the castle gate. She shouldn’t have let Kira
go back to Halef’s, but they hadn’t had any better ideas. Maybe
he’d exaggerated his claim that he couldn’t make another potion. It
was worth a try. Besides, she was worried. She could feel it deep
inside her somewhere, like a sixth sense. Especially with what she
continued to feel from Kern – a conclusion to his plans was near
now that their marriage was official. He was setting her up for
something. She was sure of it. She just didn’t know
what.
He was acting different, sometimes giving
her relief, sometimes making her wait until she was desperate for
him to take the pain – or to leave her alone so she could do it
herself. He was letting her know he had complete control, that he
could make her do exactly what he wanted.
And he rarely left her alone. Today was the
first time in a week he’d gone riding with Daric. But they’d be
back soon. She glanced back down the road into the city. Still no
sign of Kira.
She sat on a nearby bench and waited. Either
she’d be here to meet Kira, or she’d be here to meet Kern.
“Maren!”
Her head snapped up and she breathed a sigh
of relief – until Kira came closer and she saw the tears in her
eyes. “What happened?”
“He’s dead,” she sobbed. “Halef’s dead.”
Maren felt the world begin to spin and had
to put her head in her hands before taking a deep breath. “Tell me
what happened.”
“I went there and asked for Halef,” Kira
began in a shaky voice. “But instead of helping me, everyone ran
away. They were scared. Terrified. I tried to go after them, but it
was useless. Then an old man came towards me. He said Halef was
dead, killed by magic over a week ago. Powerful magic. They were
worried, Maren. Nothing like that has happened in a long time, even
there.”
Maren’s mind whirled. Kern must have
discovered what Halef was trying to do. He killed him. Her stomach
twisted. Did he know it was her that had begged for Halef’s help?
Did Kern know she was trying to stop him? She clutched at her head
and tried to think, only to find herself shaking so much it
hurt.
Kern was going to win. Daric was going to
die. No! Maren pulled her hands away from her head and looked up at
the castle. If Halef was dead, she’d just have to find another
way.
She turned to Kira. “This isn’t the
end.”
Twenty-seven
Maren
looked out over the crowd and tried to calm her nerves. It wasn’t
just the wedding banquet and feeling like she was on display. She
was going to kill Kern. Tonight. She clutched the small bag hanging
at her wrist, felt the cold metal of the dagger through the fabric,
and shuddered, imagining what it would feel like to plunge it into
Kern’s chest?