For Want of a Fiend (14 page)

“A hundred years ago, this wouldn’t even have raised a stink, but we don’t live in those times anymore.”

“Thank Horsestrong for that.”

“And where are you off to? Not to follow me around all day, I hope. I’d love to have you, but I’d hate to see you wasting your time waiting for me to collapse.”

“Well then, I’ll speak with Crowe if he’s awake. If he’s not, I guess I’ll prepare for my mother’s arrival.”

“Spirits above!” Katya slapped her forehead. “I completely forgot. I don’t know if I—”

Starbride lifted a hand. “It would be better if you weren’t there to greet her. I thought I’d just lead her to my apartment in the royal wing and let her figure it out, though it might be amusing if you popped in from nowhere and kissed me.”

Katya couldn’t resist stepping forward to do just that. “I love you, Star, even if you are a sneaky rascal.”

*

Katya found her mother sipping coffee in her sitting room. She gave Katya a weary smile and looked as tired as Katya felt.

“How did it go with Reinholt last night?” Katya asked.

“Not well.” Ma set her cup down with hardly a sound, something years of training had taught her. “Reinholt went white as a sheet before turning as bright a red as I’ve ever seen. I thought he might weep.”

“Did he say anything?”

Ma shook her head and sipped her coffee again.

Katya fought down disappointment. She’d been hoping for a mea culpa at last, some sign that he knew his fate rested on his own head.

Ma turned a gaze as probing as the sun in Katya’s direction. “How are you?”

“Shocked and disappointed in my brother, but I can do this, Ma.” Inside, she felt that was true even as a stab of fear called her a liar.

“I know you can, darling. Your father and I are both very proud of you.”

Katya didn’t want to ask how her mother was, didn’t want to know how Ma loved Reinholt despite what he’d done. “Is Da around?”

“He had an early meeting with the nobles’ council. You’ll need to address them later.”

“I’ll be there.”

Was it her imagination, or did ghostly tears hover in her mother’s eyes? Katya stood, unable to bear them. If there were tears, they were Reinholt’s fault. “I’m going to take the temperature of the halls.”

Ma stared at her a moment, as if she suspected something else, but she nodded slowly. “Take care of yourself.”

With thoughts of her mother’s tears fresh in her mind, Katya hurried toward Reinholt’s apartment. He didn’t outrank her anymore, she told herself, so by the spirits above, she’d finally say her piece.

Reinholt’s doors were as unlocked as before. The bedroom door stood open a crack. Katya sidled close again, desperate for information no matter how it came, some clue as to whether her brother could be saved.

“Come with me,” Reinholt said.

“I can’t,” a softer voice, Lord Vincent’s.

“You too? After everything we’ve shared? First my family, then the nobles, and now you?”

“I’m sorry, Highness. My sworn duty is to protect your children. I can’t leave Marienne while they remain here.”

Katya opened the door without thinking, relieved that when it did open, everyone had his clothes on. “You’re leaving Marienne?”

Reinholt’s face contorted into a hideous mockery of itself. “What the fuck do you want, traitor?”

“I’m the traitor?” Katya’s fists clenched in a desperate attempt not to close around her rapier’s grip. “You’re the traitor, you miserable, spirits bedamned child! You’re an arrogant, selfish, murderous bastard!” She screamed the last word, all her pent up aggravation barreling out of her.

Reinholt stepped back as if pushed by her anger. Lord Vincent’s mouth hung open, shocked beyond his usual decorum.

“Well?” Reinholt tore his gaze from Katya and settled it on Vincent.

Vincent looked from one of them to the other. “I…I cannot, Highness. Please.” He glanced at Katya again. “My duty supersedes whatever my feelings might be.”

Katya barked a laugh. “He doesn’t understand, Vincent. He wouldn’t know duty if it bit him on the ass.”

Reinholt took a step toward her, his arm raised. “You little—”

Katya stepped to meet him, her own fist lifting. Lord Vincent jumped between them, his arms outstretched. Katya pulled up short. Vincent had his back to her, facing Reinholt, guarding
Katya
. His duty was to protect the young heirs, but if they weren’t present, he’d protect the highest ranking person in the room, even from a lesser ranking member of the family.

By the look of utter betrayal on Reinholt’s face, he saw it, too.

“So,” Reinholt said, and it was the loneliest sound Katya had ever heard. It almost made her feel sorry for him.

She stiffened her spine, though. There was no way Reinholt was leaving Marienne. Katya would dress him if she had to and pull his strings for the public.

Reinholt shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, the kind of posture Katya had come to expect. She stepped to the side, ready to begin ordering him about, but he pulled something from his pocket and hurled it at the floor.

Light stabbed into Katya’s brain like a shard of ice. Blind, she stumbled against a nearby chair and heard a crash somewhere in the room. “Vincent!”

“Here, Highness.” Katya heard another crash. “I’m trying to find you!”

“Forget me, find Reinholt!” Katya groped her way forward until she encountered someone’s arm.

“Highness?” Vincent said.

“Yes.” Katya blinked as fast as she could, but the purple and gold lights in front of her eyes wouldn’t dissipate.

“There’s another door. I feel a hole in the wall.”

The damned secret passageway! Katya groped toward the wall and tripped on the bed. When she finally made it to the entrance, she felt only the smoothness of Reinholt’s long mirror. Her vision was coming back in a gray haze. She toggled her brother’s mirror and staggered into the passageway after him. “Get to the royal stables and stop him,” she said over her shoulder. “Sit on him if you have to. He mustn’t leave.”

“Yes, Highness.”

She heard him stagger away. Katya groped along the nightstand for a candle. Reinholt had taken the lantern. She charged through the passageway as fast as she could, squinting into the dimly lit tunnel and willing her vision to be better. The way before her cleared, little by little, but not fast enough. Luckily, she knew the way to the royal stable almost by touch. She came out in the barn and staggered into the daylight.

“Princess!” one of the groom’s cried. “I mean, Crown Princess. I didn’t mean to—”

“Where’s Prince Reinholt?”

“Highness?”

She nearly grabbed his collar. “Prince. Reinholt. Where is he?”

“He…I haven’t seen him.”

Katya peered into the yard over his shoulder. Lord Vincent stumbled out of the palace doors. He sprinted toward where the yard emptied into the road on the side of the palace. When he came back inside, he looked to Katya.

“I don’t see him, Highness.”

Katya bit back a curse. “Go to the front stable,” she commanded. Lord Vincent took off at a sprint. Katya ran for the back stable, the tradesmen’s and servants’ entrance.

The place bustled with activity, servants hustling to and fro, traders yelling at their hired servants to hurry no matter how fast they went. Nearby, Katya heard barking from the palace kennels, all of the noises adding up to one horrible din. She paused on top of the steps, and the servants parted around her as if she were a rock among the surf; they did their best to bow under their parcels and loads of linens as they passed.

Katya spied a cloaked figure on horseback at the edge of the yard. She hurried down the steps, not wanting to run or cry out in front of so many eyes. She’d reason with Reinholt if she could, and if she couldn’t, she’d slam a fist into his throat or gut and tell the nearby servants that he’d swooned.

“Stop that horse!” she called. Several waiting men and women held out their arms and called for the horse and rider to stop.

The horse shied, and the rider threw back the hood, exposing hair as black as night.

Katya skidded to a stop as Castelle swung down from her saddle with flawless grace. “Highness?”

“Sorry,” Katya stammered. “On your way.” She turned for the doors but sensed the rush of air as Castelle hurried to keep pace.

“You’re troubled.”

“Nothing to concern you.”

“You’re looking for someone? Let me help you.” Castelle laughed, a throaty chuckle that stirred Katya’s insides. “I do have some experience locating people who don’t want to be found.”

Katya snorted a laugh. Castelle might have become a thief catcher recently, but Katya had been finding traitors to the crown for over three years.
There
was a group of people who didn’t want to be found. She walked faster. “I’m all right.”

“I heard what happened. The murder, your…elevation. I’m sorry I wasn’t at the nobles’ council, but…Your face is like a thundercloud. Are you looking for your brother?”

Katya almost stopped. She’d been practicing her court face for a long time, and Castelle had been absent for almost two years. How in the hell could Castelle still see right through her?

“Yes, I want to gloat,” Katya said, putting on as much of a sneer as she could.

“Stop trying to run me off.”

“What do you want?” Katya stopped, making Castelle stumble to a halt, a small victory.

Castelle’s face softened into what Katya had always called her loving face, the one that signaled its complete devotion to the recipient of its beauty. No matter what Castelle did or said, how many times she loved and then left, that face could drag out every ounce of forgiveness Katya possessed.

Katya crossed her arms. She didn’t have time for the loving face or any other.

“I want to help you.” Castelle glanced at Katya’s crossed arms, and half her mouth quirked up. “I didn’t treat you as I should have years ago. I can only hope to serve you in a thousand small ways to equal one large apology.”

Katya started walking again. “You and I have no quarrel.” She wanted to follow that with, “You and I have no anything,” but that would be too childish, no matter that it was true.

“I’m guessing Prince Reinholt didn’t take your promotion well?”

“The royal family has no public statement at this time.”

“Ah, I see. I’m the public now.”

“At your request.”

“I deserve that, but you have many friends among the nobles, surely we can—”

“No, I
don’t
have many friends among the nobles, or did you forget that? Did you forget that you’re one of the few people who really knows that?”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

Katya shook her head, not knowing what Castelle couldn’t say and not caring. Lord Vincent trotted toward them. As a baroness, Castelle outranked him, so he bowed low for both of them, but then his eyes flicked toward her, signaling that he would get rid of her at Katya’s order.

A chill went up Katya’s spine. Vincent would
kill
Castelle at her order. No doubt Castelle would try and stop him. She was an excellent fighter, but Vincent was a striking serpent, and an obedient one at that.

Katya motioned Vincent closer. “No sign?” He shook his head. “See to Bastian and Vierdrin. Make sure Reinholt doesn’t try to take them.”

Vincent took off at a sprint.

“Something’s going on.” Castelle’s fingers drummed the pommel of her rapier. “I can fight, if you need me. Or I can fetch the Guard.”

Katya’s heart softened at the concern in Castelle’s gaze. No matter what she was in private, Castelle was loyal to the crown. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do.” She gestured back the way they’d come.

Castelle bowed and then walked away; she cast small glances over her shoulder as she went. Katya had a moment to wonder what she’d been up to at the servants’ stable. She shook the thought away before taking off for her parents’ apartment again.

Brightstriving arrived in a carriage, a contraption few in Newhope, if not Allusia, could afford. As lavish as it was back home, the plain vehicle paled in comparison to the riches of Marienne. Starbride shook her head; what a knock her mother’s pride was about to take.

Starbride stepped forward with a smile. She never could think of her mother as “Mama,” no matter how often the childish name slipped from her mouth. In Starbride’s thoughts, Brightstriving was only “Mother.”

Her mother gave her Allusian-style outfit a glance, disappointed no doubt that Starbride wasn’t dressed as a Farradain but surely impressed by the silk and jewelry. Her eyes rested briefly on the consort’s cuff, but she couldn’t know what it meant. She embraced Starbride, a cautious smile on her lips while her servant Rainhopeful hovered behind her.

“New clothes?” Her mother held out the sides of her own petal-like gown. “I’ve come to prefer these.”

“I’ve started quite a trend.”

“From the library?”

“Not exactly.”

“Where are we going? I thought the courtiers were housed near the front of the palace.”

“I don’t live with the courtiers.”

“You let them stick you away in some hole, didn’t you? Didn’t even kick up a fuss? Please tell me you’re not in the servants’ quarters.”

Starbride kept walking, forcing her mother to follow. Her chatter ceased when they entered the royal halls with their pyramids glittering in the walls. Members of the king’s Guard stood at attention, resplendent in shining breastplates. Her mother’s face went carefully blank when they entered Starbride’s apartment. She waited until Dawnmother and Rainhopeful had served them refreshment and retreated to a corner of the room before she turned her expressionless gaze on Starbride once more.

“We can’t afford this.”

“No.”

“If you are the king’s mistress…”

Starbride almost choked on her wine. “No.”

Her mother shook her head, and then a smile slowly took over her face. “Since the prince does not live in Marienne…The princess?”

Starbride grinned. “I’m the princess consort, Mama.”

With a squeal, she threw her arms around Starbride’s neck. Starbride resisted the urge to laugh. As misguided as it was, her mother’s pride still felt good.