For Want of a Fiend (10 page)

Starbride and Castelle bowed, just enough for each one’s station. It warmed Starbride’s belly that she outranked Katya’s former lover. It wasn’t jealousy, she told herself, just satisfaction.

“Princess Consort,” Castelle said after she’d straightened. “Starbride. I hoped we’d run into one another again.”

“And why is that, Castelle?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the nickname. It sounded too much like shortening an Allusian name, an intimate practice.

“If I may say, I admire your directness. I’ve heard it lamented many times that you don’t play court games. May I walk with you?”

Starbride shrugged and continued walking while studying Castelle out of the corner of her eye. She was lean, but not without curves. Barely taller than Katya, she was far taller than Starbride, and she had power in her frame, even under her clothing. Like Katya, she was built for adventure.

“Court games?” Starbride asked.

“The politics game, the getting-ahead game. My father used to call it the courtier shuffle.”

“I would have liked your father.”

Castelle glanced at her as if surprised, and her face softened into an almost affectionate look. “Many did. He…” A slow, calculating smile took over her mouth. “Do you even think about it?”

“What?”

“Your lack of guile. Are you cunning, artlessly or not?”

Starbride fought the urge to get angry, like she always did with these people. “I say what I think, that’s all.”

She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and turned to find Castelle watching her with a pinched brow. It made the tattoo curving around her eye wrinkle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just…Honesty is hard to find here, real honesty, I mean. A lot of people use the word as an excuse to say whatever they want, the meaner the better. You’re rare.”

Starbride barked a laugh. “In more ways than one.”

“Ah. Blame your honesty on your Allusian heritage?”

“Oh no.” Starbride’s mother wouldn’t think of herself as dishonest, not an outright liar, but she could play the courtier shuffle with her hands tied behind her back. “It’s just…me.”

Castelle chuckled, and Starbride almost expected her to say something silly like, “I can see why she likes you.” But she must have known that any reference to Katya wouldn’t be welcome. Starbride didn’t let anyone pry into their lives, no matter who they were.

Before they came within sight of the royal apartments, Castelle made as if to turn aside. Starbride couldn’t resist a small jab. “Not wanting to run into her?”

Castelle turned slowly, mouth turned up. “I was wondering if one of us was going to mention her.”

“I couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t, not really. She
could
be dishonest after all.

“Our history is just that.”

“I know. But you didn’t part on good terms.”

“Are you going to thrash me for the history or just on principle?”

“No, no.” She wouldn’t need to thrash; she had pyramids. “I suppose I’m just curious.”

“Then why aren’t you having this conversation with her?”

Her crossed arms were reminiscent of Katya, and it almost made Starbride pause. “I have. But as Horsestrong said, different perspectives help make a clear portrait.”

“I was young. We were young. I won’t apologize for who I am or who I was. I can only say that I hope we can all be friends, or at least comrades.”

Starbride tilted her head but didn’t comment. Only Katya would know how to heal her old wounds; only Katya could say if she wanted to be friends or comrades. Like Dawnmother, though, Starbride would keep her eyes open.

Something of her thoughts must have showed on her face. Castelle’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, Princess Consort. I wouldn’t leave you out in the cold. If I’m going to be friends with her, I’m perfectly aware that I’ll have to be your friend, too.”

Starbride shrugged again. “Well, you can try.” Before Castelle had a chance to respond, Starbride walked down the hall into the royal apartments where Castelle couldn’t follow.

Robert Rochester, Duke of Baelyn, had been an imposing man in his youth. Katya could still see some of his former girth in his shrunken frame, but she couldn’t remember him without the limp or the bow in his back. He was stooped and gray now; the only imposing thing about him was the deep, rich voice that sounded as if it should come from a younger, healthier man.

Katya stared at him as he stared at the floor. He couldn’t have been much older than her father, but he seemed as old as time itself and just as weary. “What did she
do
?” he asked again. He glanced at Katya’s father, but he didn’t look Da full in the face, not yet.

“Brom informed our enemies of the crown prince’s movements. He was nearly killed,” Da said, the story they’d all agreed upon.

“I had heard that there was an earthquake, and that it had something to do with…what the royal family must do to pacify the great Fiend?”

Katya shifted slightly. The populace knew too much to be completely deceived and too little to really understand why pacifying Yanchasa was such an ordeal. Still, she let her father handle the explanation.

“She waited for that time so that her machinations were less likely to be discovered.”

Duke Robert smoothed the gray whiskers of his goatee. “I just can’t believe…”

Katya pitied the old man. He couldn’t be long for the world, and he had to see his daughter dishonored before his end. At least Brom wouldn’t be dead.

Da gently patted Duke Robert’s shoulder. “If you like, I could have my pyradisté blank her memory. The world would know she’d been returned to your house, but she wouldn’t know why, and she could live blithely on.”

Katya lifted an eyebrow. Everyone would know of Brom’s divorce, of her dishonor, except Brom? Wouldn’t she wonder why she was shut away? Crowe—even with Starbride’s help—couldn’t selectively erase Reinholt from Brom’s memory. They’d have to take entire years, including the memories of her children. Wouldn’t she wonder what had happened to her?

Unless Da was suggesting taking her memory wholesale and letting her father invent any past he chose, a fall from her horse, perhaps, that had stolen her memories.

Duke Robert bowed his head again, considering.

Katya thought of Brom, alone in the dungeon in her chains. Not an hour ago, Katya had leaned close to her and whispered, “Speak of our secrets to anyone, and you die.”

Brom had nodded, not looking up.

It wasn’t good enough. “If you tell all that you know, your children could be removed from the succession. Who would guarantee their safety then?”

Brom had glared murder at her, but Katya hadn’t let on that she lied. She’d hoped the mere idea might make Brom behave.

“No,” Duke Robert finally said. “She will live with her shame.”

He loved her too much to kill her, yet he was still angry enough to shame her. That was good. An ashamed father wouldn’t lightly forgive her or seek revenge on her behalf.

Moments later, Ma accompanied Brom into the formal sitting room, leaving the guards in the hallway. Dressed in a simple shift, Brom had been bathed and shod. She was no longer bound, but her sleeves hung well over her wrists, hiding any marks left by cold steel. She’d been plump, but now her cheeks had sunk in, and her dark hair lay lifelessly across her shoulders. When she saw her father, her brown eyes flooded with tears, and she stepped forward.

Duke Robert turned away. Brom stopped, mid-stride, and tears fell down her cheeks.

“Your Majesties,” Duke Robert said as he bowed. “I thank you for your mercy.”

“Mercy?” Brom whispered.

Duke Robert didn’t look at her. “Shut your mouth, girl.” He bowed to all three royals again. “Please apologize on my behalf to his highness, the crown prince.”

Da nodded, but Katya doubted he’d do it. Reinholt wasn’t anywhere near the mood for apologies.

Duke Robert started for the door, still not looking at his daughter. “Come, Brom.”

“Where are my children? I can’t say good-bye?”

Katya glanced at her parents’ faces and saw the same coldness she felt in her heart.

“Come, Brom,” Duke Robert said. “Now.”

Brom drew a deep breath, but before she could speak, Duke Robert was beside her, his fingers digging into her arm until his knuckles whitened. He spoke directly into her ear, though Katya could hear him from where she stood. “Do not speak. Come. Now.”

Brom made a shallow sob but walked out the door. Duke Robert kept his grip upon her arm. After a nod from her father, Katya followed them through the servants’ quarters and then to the servants’ stables. There, Katya signaled to Brutal, already astride his charger and waiting behind the stalls. He followed the duke’s carriage and guards as they left the palace.

When Katya climbed up the stairs and ducked into a secret passageway just outside the servants’ quarters, Starbride was waiting. She’d been following through the walls at Katya’s request, pyramid at the ready, just in case. A lantern sat near her feet. Her arms opened, and Katya leaned into them.

“Come back to my room,” Starbride said, her breath warm against Katya’s cheek.

“I wish I could, but I have more unpleasant business to attend to. Mother has asked me to make sure Reinholt has ordered the proper outfit for the opening of the fall festival.”

“Babysitting again.” Starbride put on a haughty, somewhat evil smile. “Oh, I’ll be all right, I suppose. Castelle has volunteered to be my friend.”

“Did she?”

“I could go see what she’s doing if I’m lonely.”

Katya fought down a surprising jot of jealousy as the image of the two together popped into her head, forcing out the thought of getting rid of Brom. “Castelle’s not doing anything nearly as special as what I can do.” She brushed Starbride’s cheek with her lips.

Starbride laughed, a smoky sound. “But you have so many duties…”

Katya tilted her head back and forth, more than ready to banish darker thoughts from her head. “We have only a few moments, and I love a challenge.” Before Starbride could speak again, Katya stepped close and demonstrated some of the things she had learned, both from Castelle and from others.

Starbride responded with a passion that matched Katya’s, and after a short time, they were both breathing hard and leaning on the hard stone, clothes shifted or unlaced or unbuttoned. Katya grinned, surprised to find that her passion had been ignited not only by the need to put away dark thoughts, but by the danger of making love in the secret passageways where her family or the Order could find them.

Starbride grinned, and Katya knew she’d been thinking along the same lines. “Well, well.” She laced her bodice and pulled her shirt straight.

Katya groped for her trousers. “That was fun.”

“We have to do this more often.”

“I can always spare this kind of time.”

“Oh sure. Time for a conversation, absolutely not, but for this…”

“Tell me your priorities aren’t the same!”

“Well,” Starbride said, and even in the glow from the lantern, Katya could see her blush. “I have to admit, this is time better spent than most.”

*

For the next few weeks, all Katya’s time seemed to be spent either preparing for the festival, counting down to the festival, or enduring the awful family dinners she’d been commanded to attend. Starbride earned points in her mother’s favor by volunteering to sit out. Little did Ma know that Starbride counted herself lucky to be excluded.

Without more Roland or Maia sightings, Katya could let the normal work of the Order consume her, anything that kept her from dwelling on her brother’s behavior, the imminent arrival of Starbride’s mother, or the presence of Castelle at court.

She kept reminding herself to take one thing at a time. Crowe’s contact in Dockland had no more information about Maia or Darren, though they couldn’t trust his word anymore. He’d surely been found out as snitch to the king’s sneak. They’d all been used in a trap, probably to find out how vulnerable they were with Crowe out of commission. He’d have to double-check all his information from then on.

*

Almost before any of them realized it, the fall festival was upon them. Opening day, Katya and her family stood on a newly built dais in the square in front of the palace. The people of Marienne packed the square to capacity, ready to hear the royal opening speech.

Reinholt was being an ass, as usual. He crossed his arms and fidgeted from where he stood just beside their parents. If the cleaners had left any dirt on the wooden dais, he would have been kicking it. Katya could have slapped him.

Standing just behind her mother and father, Starbride at her side, Katya adopted a regal stance. Starbride kept trying to swallow a grin. She wore the same deep blue gown she had worn at Reinholt’s welcoming ball, a large glittering creation that made her skin shine. She’d even talked Katya into a coat that was neither black nor blue. Deep green, she’d said, would remind the people that warmer times were coming. Katya couldn’t argue with that.

Master Bernard and the heads of the Pyradisté Academy made the academy’s capstone sparkle and shine, cycling from bright white to orange and yellow and red, all the colors of fall. It accentuated the bunting and decorations that covered the square and extended down every street in the city.

“Each year,” Da said, “we gather to celebrate the harvest and the farmer, the lifeblood of Farraday. We honor your labor and the products of your work. Without you, we could not survive. May the merriment of our revels keep us warm in winter winds and remind us that spring must come again!” The crowd erupted in cheers. Reinholt rolled his eyes. Katya stopped herself just short of kicking him.

The merchants around the square and through the streets lifted the awnings from their booths. The crowd surged toward their favorites to buy up goods or flowers or souvenirs. Wandering vendors with trays slung around their necks sauntered into the open, selling pastries or roasted nuts. The smell washed over Katya and stirred up memories that made her smile. She leaned close to her mother and father.