"I don't think this is a good idea, Kiara." Cerise folded her arms across her chest. "Scrying drains you at the best of times."
"Carroway told me that scrying didn't go so well for you on the road," Macaria put in. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Kiara thumped her fist against the tall back of a chair in frustration. "Things are different now. Arontala was hunting us then. He used the scrying ball to find us, followed my magic back to find me."
"Arontala and the Obsidian King may be gone, but Curane still has dark mages. You must be careful."
"Just a glimpse. Please help me do this. I have to see how Tris is doing."
Cerise sighed. "I know that tone in your voice. It hasn't changed since you were a little girl.
You're going to do this, whether we like it or not. Very well then. I'll help."
Alle and Macaria nodded their assent. Kiara withdrew a light blue scrying ball from deep
within a trunk and set it carefully in its holder on the table.
"That's Viata's ball. I'd know the color anywhere."
Kiara nodded. "I brought it from Isencroft. Mine was. lost. on the journey." Cerise fixed Kiara with a glare that made it clear the healer was skeptical about the circumstances under which the last scrying ball disappeared. "Viata never could scry well on her own, but she had some gifted seers who helped her watch over your father whenever he left on campaign." "Then why discourage me from trying?"
Cerise looked away. "What the ball shows us isn't always true. The future is always changing. We might see what has been-or what might be, but never with certainty what is. Viata learned that the hard way. One night, when Donelan had been on campaign for a long time against the Western raiders, Viata scryed for him. She saw images from a battle, and saw Donelan hit in the chest by an arrow. It was just a few seconds, but long enough to see him fall from his horse." Cerise's voice shook. "Viata was inconsolable. Nothing Malae or I could say helped. In her grief, she almost threw herself from the window." A sad smile crossed Cerise's face. "Goddess forgive me-but if I hadn't brought her to her knees with a blinding headache, we might not have been able to keep her safe. She was as fine a warrior in the Eastmark ways as you are, my dear." "And father?"
"When he returned, we learned that he narrowly avoided an arrow, but that it missed him- his horse shied just as the arrow came his way. So the ball showed what might have been, but not what was."
"I understand. And I promise that I won't try to throw myself out the window. But I have to try."
"Very well."
The four women took their places around the ball, holding hands. Kiara drew on a small measure of regent magic to ward their working and bring the power of the scrying ball to life. "Powers that be, hear me! Goddess of Light, attend!" Kiara began, her eyes closed in concentration. "We gather to invoke the ancient Powers. Spirits of the Land, hear me!" she recited. "Winds of the North, obey! Waters of the Southlands, bend your course. Fires of the Eastern Sun, be bound by my command. Land of our fathers under the sun of the West, I compel you by the right of the heirs of Isencroft to reveal what is hidden and find what is dear. Let it be so!"
Alle and Macaria were holding their breath. Kiara opened her eyes as the scrying ball flared and from within, a mist began to swirl. Still holding hands, they stepped closer as Kiara peered at the image. Hazy, as if seen from a distance, an image grew more solid. Kiara could make out the outline of a large stone fortress. Fire lit up the night sky. She glimpsed two figures on horseback and recognized one immediately as Tris. "There he is!"
The scene shifted without warning, to another night view. The battle for the keep raged, but there was panic in the soldiers' movements, and at the edge of the vision, Kiara glimpsed a gray-skinned beast like she and Tris had fought on the road to Westmarch. "Look there!" The night opened as if split like a curtain, and Kiara watched in horror as a man's body tumbled out of thin air. Blond hair matted with blood, cloak torn and burned, the body landed in the snow and lay still. The image flickered and disappeared.
"Break the warding!" Cerise whispered as Kiara stood unmoving, staring in horror at the now-dark scrying ball. "Kiara, break the warding!"
Kiara mumbled the words to dispel the magic and the wardings around them fell. Cerise guided her to a chair as Kiara wavered on her feet, and Macaria and Alle clustered around her. "You can't be certain that what you saw really happened," Alle said, taking the cup of tea Macaria poured and pressing it into Kiara's shaking hands. "We never saw the man's face. We don't know for certain who it was."
Macaria slipped away, only to return with her flute. Wordlessly, she began to play a calming melody, but it took several minutes before its magic quieted Kiara enough for her to speak. "You were right, Cerise. I shouldn't have scryed. We know nothing more than we did before-nothing certain-but I'm more worried now than ever." Cerise laid a hand on Kiara's shoulder. "Tris is a powerful Summoner. You made a ritual vow to each other. If anything were to happen to him, he would come to you. He has that power. Barring that, you know that he's alive. And from your own stories of his training and the battle against the Obsidian King, he's withstood the worst that battle can do. Take comfort in that, and trust the Lady."
A knock at the door interrupted anything else Cerise might have said. Alle went to answer it, and found a courier standing in the hallway. "M'lady. A message for you, from Lady Eadoin." Alle thanked him and closed the door, then ripped the envelope open. She scanned down the lines of Eadoin's spidery handwriting, then looked up at the others, who were watching expectantly. "Aunt Eadoin says that there's been an outbreak of fever among the servants. She's got her hands full with the manor, and she's not feeling well herself. She begs your pardon," Alle said with a nod toward Kiara, "but she thinks it best if she stays at Brightmoor until she's well, so as not to put you and the baby at risk." She paused. "That answers our question about taking you to stay there," she said and glanced at the paper once more, then frowned. "That's odd. She also said to thank the queen for the lovely gift of linens. They arrived last week and she had the servants put them out on the beds." Alle read on, and frowned deeply. "This worries me. Aunt Eadoin enclosed a second sheet. It's very formal. She's made me her proxy, to act in her stead as if I were she." "Lady Eadoin is up in years," Macaria said gently. "Perhaps it's just a precaution." "Perhaps. Or maybe she's sicker with the fever than she's letting on." Alle lowered the letter with a sigh. "I was counting on her help to deal with the rumors about you and Carroway. Aunt Eadoin's always been a voice of reason in the Margolan court-even the troublemakers listen to her. I'm afraid we'll have to wait."
"I'm sorry to hear that Eadoin's not well," Kiara replied. "And I'm completely at a loss about the gift. I didn't send anything. Perhaps Crevan sent something in my name out of protocol." Urgent knocking cut off anything more she might have said. The dogs jumped to their feet at the noise, and even Jae raised his head from where he slept on the hearth. Alle opened the door again, to find Crevan framed in the doorway. The little man looked exhausted and disheveled, as if he had been up all night. He bowed low and stepped inside at Kiara's gesture, carefully shutting the door behind him. "Crevan, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry to bear this news, Your Majesty. Please understand, I had nothing to do with it." "What happened, Crevan?"
Crevan twisted his thin hands. "The Council of Nobles has convened, at the request of Lord Guarov. Not even so much as a by-your-leave, mind you, except that they ordered me to find them a room where they wouldn't be disturbed, and send up their meals with plenty of warmed wine." He looked plaintively at Kiara. "A thousand pardons, m'lady, but they've sent me with a summons to request your testimony. They meet to discuss the rumors that allege you and Master Bard Carroway have committed adultery and betrayed King Martris. It's in their power, in the absence of the king, to find you both guilty of high treason." Kiara caught her breath. "But the rumors are lies! Nothing improper in the slightest has ever happened. Neither of us would ever betray Tris."
"I believe you, m'lady. But it was for your sake that I sent Carroway away from court. I had hoped to stop the rumors before the talk reached this stage. Now-" Crevan turned his hands palms-up and shrugged.
"Can they do this?" Kiara asked, looking to Crevan and Alle. "Summon the queen? Is it within their power?"
After a moment's thought, both nodded. "In extreme measures, yes," Crevan replied. "I'm afraid so," Alle said.
"They've sent for you at first bells," Crevan added. "Please, m'lady, I urge you to be prompt. The nobles do not like to be kept waiting, even by the king. It sours their mood."
"Thank you, Crevan. That will be all." Kiara watched the door close behind the seneschal in silence.
"This is bad," Alle said, beginning to pace. "If Aunt Eadoin were here, she could sway the Council. Even Lord Guarov treats her with respect. Before the coup, the Lord of Huntwood-Ban Soterius's father-was also on the Council. He was one of Bricen's staunchest supporters. Some of the others we could have counted on for support died under the Usurper's rule-Lord Alton, Lord Montbane, Lord Theiroth-all dead." "Who's left?" Kiara asked, forcing down her own panic and willing herself into the coolness that came in preparation for battle.
"Lord Guarov-we know he's trouble," Alle replied. "Lord Acton-he's the elderly gent you met at the wedding. Don't count him out-he's a spitfire for his age. King Martris brought some of the vayash moru lords into the gathering, but they left court when the king did-I think they're afraid."
"Mikhail could represent Lord Gabriel-if he weren't locked up in the dungeon," Macaria added darkly. "And Carroway is heir to his family's title-but he's not going to be much help either."
"It's not impossible," Alle said, pursing her lips as she thought. "If they're convening at Guarov's request, it doesn't mean they all agree. There are four others on the Council. Lord Dravan, Lady Casset, Count Suphie and Dame Nuray. Nuray is trouble-there've been rumors for years that she's a spy for Trevath. The others are wild cards. It's been said that they all have ties to other kingdoms. Dravan's reputed to have ties in Dhasson-which might not be a bad thing, since King Harrol is Tris's uncle."
"We'd heard that Lady Casset feeds information to King Staden," Macaria put in. "And that Suphie is Eastmark's puppet."
"Suphie is a troubling man," Alle said. "He's not of Eastmark, but he does a lot of business there, supplying weapons and mercenaries. They say he's not a forgiving person." "And we still don't know who father's spy is," Kiara added. "Or whether he or she could be of any help. Goddess! The last thing we need is word of the rumors getting back to Isencroft." "One problem at a time," Cerise counseled. "First bells isn't far away. You need to eat, my dear, to replenish your strength. Then you must dress for high court, and remind them that not only are you Margolan's queen and mother to its heir, but heir to the Isencroft crown as well." She
laid a hand on Kiara's arm comfortingly. "I have no doubt that you can face down this enemy as confidently as you've ridden into battle-although perhaps it might be best to leave your sword behind this time!"
The time to meet with the Council of Nobles came far too quickly. Alle accompanied her. Cerise followed, resolute that she must be in attendance as a precaution, although Kiara suspected it was to make certain that the Council never forgot that the queen they sought to judge also carried the heir to the throne. Crevan led them through the narrow hallways of Shekerishet. Ammond and Hothan, Kiara's regular guards, followed and two new guardsmen, the men who had accompanied Crevan, joined them. Kiara drew herself up to her full height. Though she hated the discomfort of formal court regalia, she understood its power. Her dress was heavy with brocade and velvet, sewn with pearls and gold thread. Its high bodice accentuated her gently swelling belly. The neckline was modest-almost matronly by court fashion. At her throat hung a pendant nearly the size of her palm, the four-headed dragon seal of the heir to the Isencroft throne. The crown of the queen of Margolan glittered in Kiara's auburn hair. She said a silent prayer to the Lady, as she did before going into battle, and found herself wishing for the clean demarcations of a war fought with weapons instead of words. Six nobles stood as Crevan opened the door to the meeting chamber. They made perfunctory bows in greeting as a servant ran to pull out a chair for Kiara, which she refused.
"Why have you summoned me?" Kiara's voice had an edge to it, the same tone she had often heard King Donelan use when he wished to remind an errant noble of his station. A glance around the table confirmed Alle's guess at the nobles in attendance. White-haired Lord Acton Kiara recalled from the wedding, and Lord Guarov, with his features coldly impassive, was equally memorable. Dame Nuray's looks hinted at Trevath blood, making her easy to identify.
A blond woman sat stiffly to Nuray's right, with an expression that might have been impatience or boredom; Kiara guessed her to be Lady Casset. Of the remaining two men, one had a rough manner, as if he were more at home on the front lines of a battle than with the pleasantries of court. Count Suphie? If so, Kiara's hopes of persuading him on the basis of her kinship to King Kalcen died. Suphie was an older man, easily Donelan's age, meaning that he would have been a supporter of her grandfather, King Radomar, and likely to have shared his disdain for Viata's outland marriage. The last man, Lord Dravan, looked old enough to be her
grandfather, but his light blue eyes were sharp and his angular features bespoke intelligence. Wild cards all of them.
"There is no way to put this delicately," Lord Guarov said, although nothing in his manner suggested he was prone to doing so, regardless. Guarov was a slim man with hawk-like features and long-fingered, soft hands that made it clear he had never toiled. He had dark eyes that seemed to constantly scan the horizon for potential threats, and the punctiliousness of a bookkeeper. "Credible rumors allege great impropriety, Your Majesty. It is said widely at court that you and Master Bard Carroway have betrayed the king's trust, and your wedding vows. To do so is treason."
Kiara glanced around the table. Dravan and Casset looked clearly uncomfortable. Nuray leaned forward intently, as if watching a drama. Suphie crossed his arms and leaned back, scowling. Acton's anger was clear in his face. They may be obligated to go along with this, but some of them don't like it, Kiara thought.
"Is Margolan governed by rumors?" Kiara replied. "In Isencroft, such serious charges require witnesses. Pray tell, have you any to your charge?" One hand rose to finger the crest at her throat, a reminder, in case any there had forgotten, of her own rank. The other hand fell to rest on her belly, silently underscoring her status as the mother of the heir. "On more than one occasion, Bard Carroway has been seen to enter the queen's rooms," Guarov replied, with a tone as if that settled the matter.
"And did your 'witnesses' bother to tell you than on both occasions, Lady Alle, my healer Cerise, and Macaria, my personal bard, were already in the room and remained there until Carroway left? We were never alone, at any time."
"The rumors do not allege that you were alone, m'lady, but rather that you engaged in treasonous conduct."
Kiara felt her cheeks redden with anger at the implication. "Is it your intention to call the heir to the Isencroft throne a whore who performs for an audience?" She could see the others wince at her plainspokenness.
"I did not use that word, m'lady."
"You didn't need to."
"The fact remains-"
"You have no facts," Kiara cut him off. "Only lies and rumors. Show your 'witness.'" "I've promised him protection."
"To make accusations without risk?" Kiara's voice was scornful. "This isn't Nargi, where an angry scullery maid can concoct a charge of magery and have even a high priest burned alive."
"It's the charge of this Council to protect the interests of the king."
"I rode beside Martris Drayke to take back the throne from the Usurper," Kiara said coldly. "I fought beside him against Foor Arontala and the Obsidian King. Bard Carroway also risked his life to put Tris Drayke on the throne. Our loyalty is absolute." "Or opportune." Heads swiveled toward Count Suphie. "After all, you were betrothed from birth to that same usurper, and broke that covenant to become his brother's lover. So technically, this is the second instance of adultery."
Kiara fixed Count Suphie with a hard glare. "The betrothal contract averted war between Eastmark and Isencroft. My uncle, King Kalcen, rescinded the charges against my mother when he took the throne. Technically," she said, emphasizing the word through gritted teeth, "that dissolved the reason for the covenant with Jared."
"We're willing to accept that it is not your fault, m'lady," Guarov said in a placating tone. "You're new in our land, and our ways may be different to you. Bard Carroway, on the other hand, has a.. reputation, of which you might not have been aware. Don't be ashamed to tell us that he forced you, and we'll have the means to clear your name." "Old scandals reach even new ears," Kiara replied disdainfully. "Your friend Lady Nadine preyed on the bard as a boy, earning her Bricen's banishment. Now you offer me a bargain that is no bargain at all-to admit guilt and sacrifice the king's loyal friend. Was this what you meant by having your servants send a shroud and burial oil as a gift for the child I carry?"
"A woman is never so tempted to betrayal as when she is pregnant-it's well known liaisons can be made without the. inconvenience. of an unexpected 'souvenir.'" "Guarov, that is enough!" Lord Acton rose to his feet, leaning heavily on the table for support. "I came to this table reluctantly, and only because I feared you might make a spectacle like this. By the Lady! Stand down and let this pass."
"What do you propose, Guarov? She carries the heir to the throne. Would you hang her- ere the king returns from battle? Pray, what is the hurry? 'Tis not the first time the court has feasted on vicious talk-nor the last, I'm sure." Lady Casset's fine-boned fingers twitched as she spoke, and the carefully studied expression of indifference betrayed a hint of disdain, as if she
condescended to speak to one below her station. Everything about her spoke of old aristocracy, from her speech to the antique and expensive jewelry on her porcelain-white throat.
"Nothing so drastic, m'lady." The speaker was Dame Nuray. Kiara regarded her closely. Nuray was old enough to have been a friend of Bricen's first wife, Eldra, a Trevath princess and mother to Jared. Even in her short time in Margolan, Kiara had heard it said that few without Trevath ties tolerated Eldra's black moods and vicious tempers. "Hang the bard, if you have certain proof. And to prevent another 'forcing,' double m'lady's guards-for her own protection."
"I will not be party to this." Lord Dravan slammed his palm down on the table. His voice shook with anger. "I brokered Bard Carroway's fostering here, when he was just a lad. Many's the hunt I shared with Lord Carroway and King Bricen in days long gone." He fixed Guarov with an angry glare. "And I remember Bricen's rage when Lady Nadine badly used the boy and drove him to desperation. If this is your revenge, Guarov, I will have none of it." "Shall we put it to vote then?" Guarov said smoothly. "Those who believe we should take action to preserve the purity of the crown, please vote." Dame Nuray and Count Suphie added their raised hands to Guarov's vote. Kiara held her breath. Three for, three against. "In the event of a tied vote on such a matter, I am empowered to appoint a proxy for our missing member," said Guarov.
"None is needed." Alle stepped forward from where she watched the proceedings. She withdrew the parchment from Eadoin. "This arrived today, by courier, from Lady Eadoin. I'm her brother's child, and at his death, became her ward and only heir." She handed the paper to Acton, not to Guarov, who examined it and showed it first to Dravan and Lady Casset. Acton presented it to Guarov, at a distance that enabled the angry lord to read its message but not touch the parchment itself. "Why was I not informed?" Guarov raged.
"Because Lady Eadoin did not feel obliged to inform you," Alle replied smoothly. Kiara glanced at Alle. During the revolution Alle might have passed herself off as a barmaid, but here in the Council Chamber, her true pedigree showed clearly. "I assure you, fever-stricken though she is, Eadoin will be here by carriage within a candlemark for such a vote if you don't accept my proxy. And when she's done voting, she's likely to have choice words for those who disturbed her sickbed."
Acton's tightly pressed lips seemed to suppress a snicker. A glint of approval glinted in
Lady Casset's eyes. Dravan did not make an effort to hide his pleasure. "Mother and Childe, she has you, Guarov. Eadoin's likely to do just that-and enjoy seeing you come down with the pox for good measure. Put an end to this sham. The vote supports the queen." "One moment." Dame Nuray raised a hand. "I can't see harm in maintaining the bard's banishment. Deserved or not," she added acidly, "his reputation casts dangerous shadows on the queen at court. I'm told he rests comfortably at the Dragon's Rage Inn. Leave him there until the king returns-and see if the king's friendship is as. tolerant. as this council."
"By the Crone's tits," Acton grumbled. "You could damn the Lady herself with the accusations between your words. Yes, for his own protection, leave the bard under arrest. It will protect him from the likes of you."
Acton turned toward Kiara and gave a deep bow. "My queen. Please accept my personal apologies at this embarrassment. As I pledged once to Bricen and then to King Martris, you have my sword and my allegiance."
Kiara inclined her head in acceptance, and grasped Acton's gnarled hand in both of hers. "Accepted, m'lord, with gratitude."
Kiara and Alle turned to leave as Crevan stood out of the way. "Guards," Lord Guarov called, "Please see the queen to her quarters-for her own safety," he said when Kiara's sharp glance questioned his intent.
They began to make their way through the narrow halls of Shekerishet. The four guards closed ranks around Kiara and Alle, crowding through the empty walkway. Ahead, servant's stairs opened into the wall. As they reached the opening, the guard to Kiara's right threw his full weight against her, knocking Kiara off balance and into the stairwell. Arms flailing, Kiara began to fall backward. She slammed hard against the wall, grasping for a handhold. She tumbled once, crying out in pain.
"Death to traitors!" the guard shouted, starting after her. The other guards grabbed for the man as Alle's hand flicked in her skirt. A red stain spread across the astonished guard's face from the knife buried hilt-deep in his chest.
Before Alle could reach the entrance to the stairway, the corridor around Kiara began to glow eerily. Dim shapes appeared in the shadows of the stairwell, breaking her fall and steadying her down the last few steps to the landing. In the glowing mist, Kiara glimpsed the ghostly protectors-Comar Hassad, Ula the nursemaid, and Seanna. Ula and Seanna gentled Kiara to sit
as Comar Hassad's spirit raised his ghostly sword in warning, watching the stairs. Alle clamored down the stairs, paying no heed to the frantic shouts from the corridor. "Kiara! Are you all right?" Alle reached Kiara first, noting with concern the growing bruise on her temple where she had slammed against the rock wall on one side of the stairwell. Cerise reached them a moment later. "Your aim is good, Alle. The guard is dead-saved him from hanging, although now we won't know who sent him." Alle snorted. "Do you need to ask? Want to bet he was Guarov's insurance?" Sounds of a heated argument came from the hallway above. Kiara could dimly make out Lord Dravan's angry voice, shouting down Guarov and Dame Nuray. Any comment was preempted by a sharp pain in her belly that made her double up. She grabbed for Cerise's hand, alarmed.
Cerise's concern showed in her eyes. "We need to get you up the stairs and back to your rooms," she said, laying a hand on Kiara's belly to ease the sudden contractions. Slowly, the three women made it up the stairs where Ammond and Hothan waited, weapons drawn. Crevan was doing his best to lead the arguing nobles away from the area, but by the sound of the shouts that reached them, Dravan and Acton were intent on blaming Guarov for the incident and disinclined to move from where they were until the matter was settled. The voices stilled as the three women emerged from the stairwell and Kiara stumbled, leaning heavily on Cerise and Alle. Hothan reached Kiara as she slumped, and the last things she remembered were Lady Casset's scream and Hothan catching her just before she hit the floor.
Kiara awoke in her own bed. Cerise and Alle sat vigil in chairs on either side. In the shadows near the fireplace, she glimpsed Ula and Seanna, barely visible as faint blue images, keeping watch. Macaria lowered her flute, ending the quiet song she had been playing, and came closer, worry clear in her eyes.
"The contractions have stopped," Cerise said, patting Kiara's hand in response to her worried expression. "A bit of vettor root under your tongue took care of that. The gash on your forehead is healed, although some of the deep bruising from your fall may be sore for a while. From the bruises, I'd guess you rolled into a ball when you fell, which means the baby was well protected, although at your expense."
Alle helped Kiara sit and propped pillows behind her, handing her a warm cup of tea.
"Thank you," she said to Alle. "I wasn't sure how that damned Council meeting would end." Alle gave a tired smile. "I suspect Aunt Eadoin got wind of Guarov's plans. Who knows- perhaps he's the one who sent the linens, and the fever along with them. I've heard of people catching pox from blankets. I wouldn't put it past him." "I pray to the Lady that Eadoin gets well," Cerise said, checking Kiara's bruised cheek again. "But her illness keeps us from taking Kiara somewhere easier to guard than Shekerishet. It's quite clear that we can't keep her safe here."
Jae left his place by the hearth to waddle over toward the bed and gave a quick flap of his leathery wings to land on the foot of it. Satisfied, he curled up at her feet. Tris's dogs padded over as well, and the gray wolfhound nudged at her hand, insisting to be petted, while the other two lay down on either side of the bed.
"What about the lodge?" Kiara asked. "Tris took me there after the wedding. It's not fancy, but it was built for winter hunts, so it's warm enough. Crevan kept it well provisioned, and it's large enough for us all to stay. There's a guardhouse, so Ammond and Hothan can still watch over us. After today, they're the only ones I'd trust."
"We're not going anywhere until tomorrow," Cerise said firmly. "I want to make sure that you're all right. And riding there on horseback is out of the question for you. Even a carriage ride could be too rough-I don't like moving you."
Kiara squeezed Cerise's hand. "I'm tougher than I look. I feel much better. And if the pains are brought on by worry, then it should be better moving me away from Shekerishet, at least for a little while."
"We can send for a sleigh," Alle suggested. "And a sledge for our provisions. The dogs and Jae can come with us. Kiara's right-the lodge is smaller, and there will be fewer people to worry about. I'll choose the servants myself that go with us-two or three should suffice, so long as one of them is a good cook!"
"If we can move you without danger, then I'm all for putting some distance between us and Shekerishet, at least for a while," Cerise relented.
"I'll go find Crevan and start the preparations," Alle said, standing up and smoothing her skirts. "We'll keep it as quiet as we can, and perhaps we'll throw the troublemakers off the scent."
"I saw the look on Crevan's face when you pegged the guard who shoved Kiara," Cerise observed wryly. "You may want to approach him with both hands in view, so as not to make his
heart fail!"
"I know you'll have to make some preparations," Kiara said, looking pointedly at Macaria. "Cerise and Alle and I will be fine if you to want take leave until tomorrow morning." Macaria nodded, taking Kiara's intent clearly. "Thank you, m'lady. I would be grateful." She headed for the door when Kiara called after her.
"Be careful, Macaria. It's clear we still don't know all the players in this game." "Aye, m'lady. I'll take care."
Alone in his room at the Dragon's Rage Inn, Carroway pushed aside his half-eaten dinner. The innkeeper, out of long friendship, sent up a full meal. It was plain but filling tavern fare-far better, Carroway knew, than he might hope for had Crevan confined him in a cell beneath Shekerishet. Outside, the winter wind banged against the shutters, howling beneath the eaves. He sipped at his brandy and took up the lute he had laid aside. Since his confinement, there was little to pass the time except for card games and his music. For the first time since his miserable early days as a fosterling at court long ago, Carroway played until his fingers bled. But the solace he usually found in the music did not come. It was better when Paiva, Halik, Bandele and Tadghe came by. Alone, the time passed slowly.
He hadn't seen Macaria since the day Crevan had pronounced banishment. Carroway felt her absence most keenly. While he'd accepted the fact that he was in love with Macaria, he knew that as her patron, he couldn't act on his feelings. The memory of what Lady Nadine had done still hurt too much for him to ever misuse his own power. And yet, he suspected that Macaria actually loved him. He'd been planning to ask Eadoin if she would become Macaria's patron. Such a change would have removed the barriers, making it acceptable for him to woo Macaria openly. Banishment changed all of that.
Carroway stood as he heard the knob turn. His hand fell to the throwing daggers hidden beneath the sleeve of his tunic, daggers the guards had failed to find in the lining of his trunk when they brought his things from the palace. To his relief, Macaria slipped into the room, gesturing for him to close the shutters as she lowered her cowl. She shook off the snow and stamped her feet.
"It's a bad night to be about," Carroway said, knowing his pleasure in seeing her was clear in his face. "But I'll never turn down the company." One look at Macaria's distraught expression, and he sobered quickly. "What's wrong?"
He listened intently as Macaria's story tumbled out. When she finished, Carroway stood, running his hand back through his long hair and pacing in front of the fire. "So I came a hair's breadth from hanging tonight and didn't even know it? Please thank Alle for me." "I know how close you are to Lady Eadoin. I'm sorry," Macaria said quietly. Carroway nodded. "She and Queen Serae took me in when my family died. Eadoin's been like a grandmother to me. I'll never forgive Guarov if he was behind something that caused her sickness."
"We don't know that," Macaria said quickly. "And with all that's happened, there's been no time to question Crevan. All we do know is that somebody sent linens to Eadoin right before she took sick-and said the linens were from the queen."
Carroway turned. "Please tell Kiara how sorry I am to have brought this on her." He swallowed hard. "I swore to Tris that I would lay down my life for him when we fled Jared's coup. And while I'm fond of living, I would die for Kiara if it's the only way to clear her honor."
"She would never ask that!"
Carroway sighed. "As you've seen, circumstances may take that decision out of her control." Macaria left her seat and joined him near the fire, warming her hands at the hearth. "I hesitate to ask, but is there other news from the palace?"
Macaria nodded. "Tomorrow, we're taking Kiara to the lodge. She thinks it might be safer there-fewer people, away from court." She swallowed hard. "It means leaving the city." Macaria turned toward him.
"By the time we get back, the king will have returned. Decisions will be made." Macaria drew a deep breath. "I didn't want to go away like this. Not without telling you that I love you."
Carroway caught his breath, silenced for a moment. He spread his hands, palms up. "I have nothing to offer you," he said, his voice catching. "No patronage. No access to court. My lands and title are worthless. When the king returns, I'll be a beggar or a corpse." Macaria's gaze was intense, but he could not look away. "Then maybe you'll finally believe that I never wanted any of those things. You've been so noble, keeping your distance. Now I know why. That doesn't matter to me. I love you, Riordan Carroway, and your music." Her voice grew quiet. "I always have."
Carroway reached out to draw her to him, slowly, as if moving might break the spell of the
moment. Macaria threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, as his fingers smoothed her fine dark hair. "I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly, pressing his check against the top of her head. "I have no future."
Macaria pushed back far enough to see his face, and she lifted one hand to touch his cheek. He closed his eyes, relishing the touch. "M'lady gave me leave until the dawn," she murmured. "We have tonight."
Carroway's throat tightened at her words. It's what I've dreamed of hearing her say. But not now. "You don't know how much that means to me," he whispered. But he shook his head as she tried to draw him toward the bed. "It's too dangerous. If they caught us together, you'd lose everything. I can't let that happen." He tipped her chin up until she met his eyes. "I do love you, Macaria. Enough that I won't see you hurt because of me." He wiped a tear from her eye with the side of his hand. "There now. At least all's been said. No more pretending." He managed a wan smile. "That's something, I guess." "Not enough," Macaria said, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him. "Not nearly enough."