Promising Light (22 page)

Grace stood in the doorway for a
moment, feeling stupid again, wondering why she’d insisted on
coming. William raised his eyebrows at her as though silently
asking the same question.

She stepped forward, clearing her
throat. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“Do you have any experience with
nursing?” Sashe asked as she and Dar stripped Evan of the filthy
rags he was wearing.

“Yes, a bit,” Grace said. With her
father as a General, he’d taught her a few first aid tricks, and
she’d seen a few wounds from him and Kyler practicing
dueling.

“Get Sierra some water and then
look at her cuts, will you?”

Grace waited for the maid to
return, then filled a goblet with water. She turned to Sierra, who
was staring at her. She got to her knees, giving her a small smile.
Sierra took the water and drank it down greedily.

Grace took one of Sierra’s hands
and looked at the crook of her elbow which was wrapped up in a
fabric. “Do you mind if I untie this?”

Sierra shook her head. The fabric
was dried with blood, originally brown but now stained black. “I
dreamt about you,” Sierra said quietly.

Grace continued to work on the
fabric, but half-glanced up at Sierra. She must be delirious. To
humor her, Grace asked, “Really? What did you dream?”

“You were with Dar,” Sierra
whispered. “Dancing… fighting…”

Grace eased the fabric off and
found a swollen cut underneath. It was still open, and the faint
odor and pus told Grace it was probably infected. She tried to keep
her face blank as she put the fabric on the floor. “Sierra, this is
infected.”

“I figured as much. There was a
lot of dirt.”

“Where were you?”

“In a cell, then in the basement
of the manor.” Sierra looked at Evan. “Is he going to be
okay?”

Grace looked at the bed, then
quickly averted her eyes. Dar and Sashe were carrying his naked
body to an open door by the desk in the corner. She’d only seen his
backside, but his torso and legs were covered in dirt, bruises, and
small cuts.

“I don’t know,” Grace
said.

“I should go help.” Sierra made
the motion to sit up, but Grace pushed her back by her
shoulders.

“It’s fine, Dar and Sashe will
take care of him.” Grace looked around; the maid was back with
water and towels. She went to her and took a towel. She dampened in
it in the bowl of warm water, and William caught her
elbow.

“I have to go speak to my father
about this.” He studied her face. “You’ll be all right?”

“Yes, don’t worry about
me.”

William hesitated. “I’ll be back in
just a minute.”

She watched him leave and when she
turned around, Sierra was half out of her chair. Grace rushed over
to her and pushed back into a sitting position. “It’s okay. Dar and
Sashe are looking after him.”

Sierra looked too tired to protest.
Grace cleaned the infected cut. At times, she felt like gagging,
but she held it back. After a few minutes, the nurse came over with
a salve she said would help with the infection. Grace smeared some
on the cut and moved to her other arm. This arm had various small
cuts, and she gently scrubbed the dirt off them. Only one needed a
bandage, the others had already scabbed over.

“We should get her a bath, too,”
Grace said as the maid took a dress out of Sashe’s
wardrobe.

“There’s not more than one,” the
maid said, glancing toward the door that must have led to the
restroom. She turned to Sierra and asked softly, “How would you
like a sponge bath?”

“I want to see Evan,” Sierra said.
Some of the color had returned to her face. She got to her feet,
shrugged off Grace’s help, and went to the restroom. Grace didn’t
feel right entering, so she watched as the maid cleaned up the
dirty rags.

A moment later, William returned.
He went to the restroom, and Grace could hear him speaking with
Lady Sashe. She crept closer to the door to listen.

“He and Lesado agree that Evan can
only stay in the palace if he agrees to wear a Mahri manacle
preventing him from shape changing.”

“He doesn’t have the strength to
shape change,” Sashe’s voice responded. “He’s hardly even
conscious.”

“The manacle is simply a
precaution—” William began.

“We don’t have to stay here,”
Sierra said. “We can go to Shyra.”

“Evan doesn’t have the strength,”
Dar said softly. “He was hardly staying on during the
ride.”

“So, I’ll bring the manacle?”
William said. There was no response, and he continued, “Sir Dar,
I’d like you to tell Lady Grace about the deal you made with the
Protectors.”

Grace stepped away from the door,
toward the maid. A moment later, Dar and William came out of the
bathroom.

“Lady Grace,” Dar said, bowing his
head. He met her eyes. “Today, in order to bring Sierra and Evan
home, I told the Protectors I wouldn’t be in contact with you
again. We won’t see each other except for at formal events where
there’s no other choice.”

Grace bit the
inside of her cheek, trying not to betray any emotion in front of
the prince. Goodness, why did he keep pushing her away? He wasn’t
planning on seeing her after Belisha, but she’d held onto some
stupid hope. But
he really didn’t believe
she could break the curse. He didn’t even want to
try.

It was strange seeing them side by
side, one her past, the other her future, both of them determined
to protect her, even if the methods they took went against her own
wishes. What sort of relationship was it when her safety was more
important than her will? They both acted as if she couldn’t protect
herself, like it was their sole responsibility to make sure she
survived the ordeal. Ever since the man in the tavern, she hadn’t
been sure to appreciate their actions for her or disdain them. Did
they respect her enough to give her a choice?

She set her jaw. “That’s hardly a
change.”

“That’s what I thought, but I
needed to assure the Protectors of our intentions,” he
said.

Your
intentions, she wanted to say. She simply nodded.
As he turned away, she looked at the prince. “What were you
expecting?” she asked.

Grace saw a flash of surprise on
his face, but he covered it quickly. “I thought you deserved to
know,” he said.

Sashe called out from the restroom,
“Lady Grace, Jemina, can you come help Sierra into a new
dress?”

“I hardly think that’s Grace’s
job,” William said.

Grace ignored him, walking into the
restroom. Jemina, the maid, followed her with a dress. Grace
averted her eyes from Evan in the bath and joined Sierra behind the
changing screen. Her skin was damp and clean. She had bruises
around her neck and on her torso. Jemina handed her a towel, and as
they waited for Sierra to dry herself, Grace’s eyes caught
something on Sierra’s back.

“What is that?” Grace
asked.

“What?” Jemina said.

“Sierra,” Grace said. She
tentatively ran her fingers over the birthmark; it looked identical
to Grace’s. Identical to the one she’d seen in Lisbeth’s
vision.

Sierra turned, looking around at
her back. “It’s a birthmark. It ruined my life.”

That must have been why Lisbeth had
thought it was Sierra first. Frowning, Grace helped Jemina tie the
back of the dress. “The Avialies told me I could break the curse,”
Grace said.

Sierra looked over her shoulder.
“What?”

“They kidnapped me. I have the
same birthmark on my stomach.”

Sierra turned, the strings slipping
out of Grace’s fingers. She grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t listen to
them. They told me and Sashe we would break it. She lied about the
vision, and the Protectors ended up killing everyone…” she trailed
off, looking at the changing screen, in the direction of the
others. “I thought they killed Evan.”

“Who is he?”

“My husband.”

Grace’s mouth fell open. That was
where she’d heard that name before. “He was alive this whole
time?”

“Two years. Tortured.” Sierra’s
grip tightened on her shoulders. “Don’t believe them. It won’t end
well.”

“Lady Grace, your parents are
looking for you,” the prince’s voice came from Sashe’s
room.

Sierra slowly took her hands down.
“Thank you.”

“For what?” Grace
asked.

Sierra didn’t respond as she
glanced away. Grace waited for her to say something, but William
repeated himself, and she left the room. As she walked down the
hall, she absentmindedly touched her stomach, where her birthmark
was.

* * *

Chapter
Thirteen

The next morning during breakfast,
an invitation for lunch arrived for Grace from Lady Sashe. Her mind
raced; what did she want from Grace? Would they be able to speak
about the Avialies? Would Sierra and Evan be present?

Father frowned. “You don’t want to
have lunch with her.”

Grace looked at him. “What do you
mean?”

He sighed. “Grace, she’s the king’s
mistress. Ladies of the court don’t need to meet with
her.”

“She can’t turn her down,” Mother
said. “She lives in the castle. She’s one of the king’s
favorites.”

“Well, she’s also dangerous.”
Father’s hand clenched into a fist on the table. “She’s practically
an Avialie.”

Grace kept from rolling her eyes.
“She’s lived in the castle for a year. If the king trusts her, then
why shouldn’t we?”

“Is her sister going to be
there?”

“I don’t know, it was just an
invitation to lunch.” Grace paused. “Are you afraid of her sister
and her husband?”

“I’m not afraid of them,” he said
with exasperation. “But do you really think seeing them is a good
idea? I’ve heard her husband is insane.”

Grace would be insane, too, if she
was tortured for two years. “Sashe and her sister know what I’ve
gone through. Lisbeth told both of them they could break the curse,
too.” She paused, biting the inside of her lip. “It’d be nice to
talk to them about all of this.”

“But what if her husband is
dangerous?” Kyler asked. “What if he thinks you can break the curse
just like the others do?”

Grace wasn’t sure what to say to
that. Evan was unconscious when she’d seen him yesterday, but she
wondered what he would think about it. Maybe he didn’t even know
about it. “I don’t know,” she said. “It was his wife they lied to…
I think they may have lost a baby.”

“Oh, please, it’s hardly a child
when it’s a shape changer,” Father said.

She stiffened, and she tried to
keep the disgust off her face. Kyler, too, looked disconcerted at
this statement, glancing at Father and then back at Grace with a
disbelieving look.

“I won’t turn her down,” Grace
said. “It’s just one lunch.”

“You’ll probably see the prince,
too.” Mother left the letter by Grace’s plate and launched into a
one-sided conversation about what Grace should wear.

Grace looked down at her porridge
and grimaced. She’d lost her appetite.

It was her first time going to the
castle by herself, so Mother fretted over her dress and hair and
gave her advice for an hour before she left. The quiet of the
carriage was a relief. Through the window, she watched the country
fall away behind her, and they entered the city. They were soon at
the castle, and the carriage driver dropped her off once they went
through the gates.

A maid met her at the front doors
and escorted her through the stone corridors. They stopped at a
sitting room on the second floor in the west wing. Sierra and Sashe
sat at a table with a light lunch.

“Lady Grace,” Sashe said, getting
to her feet. She was in one of her customary dresses, red, elegant,
perfect for her curvy body. She gave Grace a small hug and motioned
for her to sit across from the sisters.

Sierra wore a white and brown
dress, her hair pulled into a braid. She looked much different than
yesterday: alert, even regal. “You remember Sierra,” Sashe said,
motioning to her sister.

“Yes,” Grace said. “Are you
feeling better?”

Sierra nodded. “Yes, thank
you.”

“And your husband?”

Her gaze dropped. “He should be all
right in a few days.” She paused. “He’s very weak.”

“I’m sorry to hear
that.”

Sierra responded with a tight
smile. Sashe encouraged them to eat the warm soup and sandwiches.
She poured them wine and water. “I heard what Dar had to do to get
us,” Sierra said after a few minutes of silence. “I’m
sorry.”

Sashe glanced from Grace to Sierra.
“What did he have to do?”

“He told the Protectors he
wouldn’t see her again,” Sierra said, nodding to Grace.

“It’s nothing,” Grace said. “We
didn’t exactly have plans to see each other again,
anyway.”