Candidate (The Black Mage #3)

Darren rushed forward to take my arm and called for a hovering servant to bring an extra chair. “Sorry,” he said under his breath, “I didn’t know you’d be joining us. I thought after the long ride you’d want to sleep.”

“I didn’t know I was,” I whispered. I jerked my chin in Blayne’s direction. “Your brother was the one who brought me here.”

After the servant had returned with an extra setting, I took a seat at Darren’s right, furthest from the king who had gone back to his drink. The room was uncomfortably silent. I wondered if it had anything to do with my added presence, or if this was how meals usually went for the royal family.

“So… Lady Ryiah, how have you found your stay so far?”

I forced myself to smile across the table. “Delightful. Thank you for asking, Blayne.”

“And your new chambers? Were they to your liking?”

“They were.”

Blayne continued to press one banal question after the other, and I continued to offer up stilted replies. Darren squeezed my hand under the table, resting his wrist against my lap. He was smiling at his brother, as if grateful to him for making polite conversation, but I didn’t believe the heir’s act for a moment.

Luckily the focus on me only lasted for a couple of minutes. The king finished his wine and growled at the servants for a new bottle. Then he turned to scowl at his sons, ignoring my presence.

“Blayne. My advisors tell me the ambassador is set to arrive by the end of this week. Have you seen to the preparations?”

“Yes, father. I met with the scholars just yesterday to discuss foreign policy.”

“And custom?”

Blayne yawned, unperturbed. “Custom. Fare. Dress. And whatever else those barbarians insist on as part of their meaningless culture—”

The king cut him off. “It might be meaningless, but it will be one you breathe for as long as Duke Cassius is present.”

“It will be my utmost concern.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, boy. If you had wooed the Borean princess the way you were supposed to we wouldn’t be stuck hosting King Joren’s brother in the first place. You know how I distrust those Pythians.”

Blayne’s eyes flitted to me—the real reason he hadn’t been able to win over Shina. If his brother hadn’t fallen in love with a lowborn, Darren never would have come between Blayne and Shinako in the first place.

I cringed and waited. This was why Blayne had been so kind to me earlier. I should have known. Trick the lowborn into coming to dinner, and then offer her up as the sacrificial lamb to his father’s aggression. Admittedly, I hadn’t expected the treachery so soon, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting.

The corner of the prince’s lip turned up, like the two of us were sharing a secret.

I am definitely a lamb. I looked to Darren panicked but he just shook his head. What are you doing? I wanted to scream. Stop him!

“Yes,” Blayne said slowly. “Those Pythians are a nasty bunch. Don’t you worry, father, I know my role well.” He coughed loudly. "I can always have a lady or two keep him company when he grows restless.”

“He has a wife,” the king growled. “Unless you wish to insult him and make a mockery of our court, you will do no such thing.”

“Come now, Father, everyone knows the noblemen take a lover or two during their travels. Even their wives. Why, it’s a common enough saying: the longer at sea, the more lovers she keeps.”

I let out a stilted breath of relief. Blayne had changed the subject with the barest brush of his words.

The king just made a disbelieving scoff and then turned to his youngest with a scowl. “And you, you will help your brother win their favor.”

Darren didn’t bat an eye. “Yes, Father.”

“You understand how important the alliance is.” The words were ominous.

The prince nodded.

“Good.” The king sprawled back in his chair as a servant refilled his drink. He kept his eyes on his youngest. “Because if you don’t, this entire kingdom will fall to Caltoth. And when it does? Your lowborn wife will be the first blood I spill.”

My lungs ceased to work. The goblet I’d been drinking from sloshed scarlet into my lap. I shouldn’t be here. I started to stand but Darren’s grip on my hand tightened, pulling me back down.

“Blayne will not fail in his task,” Darren said. Calmly. Rationally. “I will help him succeed, Father. Ryiah will too. She was with me when the Caltothians attacked. She has witnessed their brutality first hand.”

“Which will be nothing compared to mine.” The king set down his goblet just as a servant entered with a scroll. I watched as he skimmed its contents and then pushed back his chair, clearing his throat. “I am needed in the war chambers. It appears the rebels have struck Port Cyri again. I want the two of you to join me.”

Both princes stood. “Yes, Father.”

“And Darren, make sure this lowborn doesn’t embarrass our court when the Pythians arrive.”

Rachel E. Carter's books