Prince's Fire (28 page)

T
he morning before ratification, Celeste was at breakfast in Rayn's apartment. By virtue of sleeping in the prince's bed every night, she was learning about him. Small things, like the fact that he preferred to eat the same breakfast every single morning: coffee and a rice dish with vegetables and a fried egg. She found she wanted to know every little thing about him. What were his favorite activities? Did he like books, sports, horses? How did he get that scar on his right elbow?

She had been eating the same breakfast as Rayn, only substituting chocolate for coffee. She had a feeling she could develop a taste for coffee if she tried—certainly it had a lovely smell—but she had no desire to do so, as long as chocolate continued to exist.

“You haven't introduced me to your family yet,” she said.

Rayn winced. “I know. I'm putting it off.”

“You already told me about your father's illness and your mother's disinterest in caring for him. There are no secrets beyond that, are there?”

He shook his head. “No secrets. I'll introduce you, but can it wait until after ratification? I don't think my family will reflect well on me. Except my sister—you'll probably like her. I need to ask you, though—how do you feel about Aderyn?”

“Your daughter? What do you mean, how do I feel about her?”

“I know she's illegitimate, but I'd like to raise her within the family, if we marry, and if . . . well, if you approve.” His forehead wrinkled.

“I've no experience with babies,” said Celeste.

“You won't have to raise her,” said Rayn. “She has a nurse who looks after her full-time. I just don't want her to feel unwelcome, especially once we have children of our own.
If
we have children of our own.”

She rather hoped they would. “If we marry, Aderyn will be welcome as part of our family.”

Rayn smiled. He seemed about to say something when a knock came at the door and Lornis was announced. Rayn shook his head ruefully. “We're never going to have a quiet morning.”

“Maybe after ratification.” She reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Come,” Rayn called to the door guards.

Lornis didn't look distraught this time, and he wasn't holding a folded piece of paper. He entered the room with a quick stride and an alert look that made Celeste want to roll her eyes. She was never so bright and eager this early in the day.

“News?” asked Rayn.

“A Riorcan ship sailed into the harbor this morning,” said Lornis.

Celeste sat up straighter, suddenly more alert herself. “Is it Lucien?”

“He's on board, yes.”

Something fluttered in her chest. She'd missed her brother terribly, but her excitement at seeing him again was mixed with trepidation. She was going to have to face the consequences of stealing his ship. “Have you told the empress?”

“I'm going to her room next,” said Lornis.

She glanced regretfully at her half-finished chocolate. “I'll go with you.”

Rayn rose from the table. “I'll go as well.”

Celeste laid a hand on his arm. “Finish your breakfast. I'll handle this on my own.”

“You've stood by me. The least I can do is stand by you in return.”

“If you come, Lucien will think I'm using you as a shield. He won't feel at liberty to say what he needs to say.”

“Which is exactly why I should be there.”

She shook her head. “I need to make things right with him, and that means letting him speak his mind. He won't be able to do that if you interfere.”

Rayn growled his displeasure. “This is my country, not his. When I was in Kjall, I obeyed his laws. Now he is a guest in my archipelago, and he must obey mine. I won't tolerate his treating you ill.”

“He won't treat me ill,” said Celeste.

“Are you sure? He may not beat you, but there are other ways to hurt a person.”

“It was my own decision to come here—”

“Pox that,” said Rayn. “You came for my benefit.”

“It's not as if you twisted my arm. The conversation will go better if it's handled as a family matter: just me, Vitala, and Lucien.”

“Well . . .” He scowled. “I won't gainsay you. You know your family better than I do.” He maneuvered his big body around the table, slipped an arm around her, and kissed her. “But if the meeting goes badly, summon me at once. No matter what happens, you will always have shelter in Inya.”

Celeste smiled. Brave words, considering that if he sheltered her from Lucien, he'd be defying a country with an army many times the size of his own. Fortunately, her brother had no interest in war.

“If you're ready?” prompted an impatient Lornis.

Celeste turned to him. “Has the emperor been rowed to shore?”

“He was still on the ship when I spoke to him by signal,” said Lornis. “But I don't expect he'll remain there much longer. Let's meet him at the harbor before the Land Council gets to him. Not that they'll do him any harm, but they might whisper some lies into his ear.”

“Agreed,” said Celeste.

•   •   •

Last time Celeste had been at the Tiasan docks, it had been raining. Even then she'd been struck by the beauty of the Inyan archipelago. Today the sun was out, and the colors dazzled her eyes. Never had she seen ocean water so light blue in color. How was it possible? The oceans were all connected, so why were they dark blue or gray or greenish around Kjall, but light blue here? Someday she'd have to find a naturalist and ask.

In the distance, well beyond the tall ships in the harbor, lay a long green peninsula, hazy in the sun: another of Inya's islands. Someday, when she and Rayn were not so busy, she would ask him which one it was. She'd heard Inya called the land of a thousand islands. Were there really that many? How many were inhabited? More questions to ask at some later date.

Lucien's ship was easy to identify. The Riorcan ship
Quarrel
was dark and squat and heavy, built to withstand cannon fire and the assaults of the Great Northern Sea. It was quite unlike the taller, lighter Inyan ships. A boat was loading up alongside the
Quarrel
, and Celeste was fairly certain Lucien would be on it.

“This is a beautiful place,” said Vitala, looking around at the harbor.

“I know.” Celeste sighed.

Vitala glanced at her. “Are you in love with the man, or with the country?”

“If not for the man, I wouldn't have come here in the first place.”

“Don't let the beauty of this place lull you into believing it's a paradise,” said Vitala. “Inya has problems. The people here cling to outmoded ideas—for example, the notion that bodyguards make a bad king. That's an idea that makes sense in a small, self-policing community. But not in a country the size of Inya.”

“Inya is smaller than Kjall.”

“Its population is growing rapidly,” said Vitala. “And Inya is settling some of its islands that were once thought uninhabitable. Its policies must adapt to its growing size and influence.”

“I agree,” said Celeste.

“You'll be part of that process,” said Vitala. “If you become the Inyan queen.”

She nodded. Vitala was right; Inya's apparent peace and tranquillity overlay some troubling problems: political corruption among the Land Council, the hiring of mercenaries to assassinate a prince they found inconvenient, a need for personal protection when formerly it had been unnecessary. Such problems were like the molten lava that lay within Mount Drav, simmering beneath the surface, quiet and unseen, until they erupted in sudden violence and harmed everyone in their path.

But the Inyans had found ways to keep the mountain's fits of temper from incinerating their cities. Perhaps Rayn—with her help?—could also mitigate these political problems.

Vitala tugged Celeste's sleeve. “Look, he's almost here.”

Lucien's boat bumped against the pier, and they hurried to meet him. Celeste caught a glimpse of the boat before the guards crowded around and was pleased to see not just Lucien but Justien as well.

Guards blocked her view again. Then she heard the distinctive thump of Lucien's artificial leg on the wooden slats of the dock. “Where's my wife?”

“I'm here, Lucien.” Vitala pushed her way through the guards. They stepped aside, giving her room.

“Thank the gods.”
Thump
,
thump
went Lucien's leg, and he had Vitala in his arms. “What am I going to do with you?” They hugged each other so tightly they appeared melded together on the dock, two sides to the same body. Lucien's hand reached down to cradle Vitala's belly. “How's the baby?”

“Perfectly all right,” said Vitala.

Lucien looked around. “Where's Celeste?”

Celeste stepped forward, nervous. “Here.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “It was one thing to take my ship. But did you have to take the dog?”

She flushed. “Actually, I didn't. That is, it was . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to get Vitala in trouble.

“A ship is just a pile of wood nailed together. I can always commission another.” He gave her a stern look. “
Never
take the dog.”

Vitala slung an arm around him. “Let's get you to the palace.”

•   •   •

Celeste stared distastefully at the cup of milky white liquid that had been sent up to Vitala's room in the Hibiscus Tower, where Lucien intended to settle for the duration of his visit. Patricus lay under the table across Lucien's foot, panting. He'd finished his greeting ceremony, which consisted of spinning in ecstatic circles, and had worn himself out.

“So this is the famous kava.” Lucien regarded it dubiously. “Have you read Plinius's
Travels in Foreign Lands
?”

“I have not.” Celeste had tried reading Plinius. He was an insufferable bore, and his ideas on math and astronomy were sadly outdated.

“He says some interesting things about this drink.”

A servant had delivered the kava on Rayn's orders, ostensibly to honor the emperor's arrival. Celeste suspected Rayn had sent it for another reason: to calm the emperor if his temper flared.

Lucien didn't seem angry, but perhaps he was saving his wrath for when they had privacy. Which they now had. He'd dismissed every last one of the Legaciatti to just outside the door.

“It's mind-altering,” said Celeste. “I feel you should know that.”

“Mind-altering in what way?” asked Lucien.

“It makes you feel relaxed.”

“Like wine?”

She shook her head. “It won't fog your mind or make you clumsy. But if you're planning to have it out with me over my stealing your ship, you might want to do that before you drink the kava.” If he was going to yell at her, maybe punish her, she would accept that—within reason. She understood Rayn's desire to protect her from the emperor's anger, but it wouldn't help matters to drug an unwitting Lucien into a better temper. That would only postpone the inevitable.

Lucien frowned into his still-full cup. “I am not going to
have it out
with you. Still, I'm disappointed that the two most important women in my life saw fit to abandon me in Riorca, a country where I'm not the most popular of men.”

“You were not being reasonable,” said Vitala.

“Was I not?” said Lucien. “The prince came falsely represented. He didn't tell me that his ascending the throne was dependent on his winning some ridiculous vote by the Inyan people—”

“He thought you knew,” said Celeste.

“Well, I didn't,” said Lucien. “Furthermore, he didn't tell me he was the target of an organized assassination plot—”

“
Nobody
knew that,” said Celeste. “Least of all him. And by the way, Rayn said he wrote me a letter before he left Riorca. I never received it. I have a feeling you intercepted that letter.”

“Ah,” said Lucien, looking sheepish. “I burned it.”

“What did it say?” she cried.

He shrugged. “I didn't read it.”

Celeste glared at him.

“If I may,” said Vitala, “your concerns about the prince are being addressed. Rayn's ratification vote is tomorrow—we'll know then whether he is to be king of Inya or not. And we caught most of the assassins in Riorca.”

“Except for the ones who came to Inya,” said Lucien. “And you two deliberately exposed yourselves to those assassins in coming here.”

“There have been no attacks,” said Celeste.

“Why not?” said Lucien. “Do you think the assassins have given up?”

Celeste frowned. Bayard had said the assassins would only kill Rayn on foreign soil, so the prince might be safe now. But if the assassins wouldn't touch him on Inya, why had they come here at all? She suspected that they were in fact planning another attempt, and it was likely to happen before the ratification vote took place. That was why she'd assigned him some of her guards. “I had to warn Rayn about Zoe. So I did.”

“You were under no obligation to do so. Leave Inya's problems to Inya.”

“Rayn's problems are my problems,” said Celeste.

“They certainly are not,” said Lucien. “He is a foreign national.”

“They are”—Celeste swallowed—“because I'm in love with him.”

Lucien set his still-full kava mug on the table. Silence descended.

The emperor broke it with a pained sound. “I was afraid you might say that. Nothing less would have induced you to fly to Inya. I have some experience, you know, with normally sensible women who behave irrationally when their men are in danger.”

“Come, now,” said Vitala. “I have never behaved irrationally in my life.”

He turned to Celeste. “You want to marry him? I give my approval on three conditions. One, he wins his ratification vote. Two, all the assassins involved in the plot are found and brought to justice—
all
of them, including Zoe. Three, we work out a mutually agreeable trading pact between Inya and Kjall.”