I turned to Darren who frowned. He looked bothered that he had forgotten them too. Kidnapping a woman and child was something a person shouldn’t be able to forget. But back then we had both been so busy with the apprenticeship and a tumultuous romance, it had happened anyway.
“I asked my father that year we returned to the palace.” His eyes were on the king and the circle of ambassadors across the way. “He told me he couldn’t recall.”
Andy and Cethan stuck around for a couple more minutes, trading easy jokes about their time in Langli, but it quickly drew to an uncomfortable note after she mentioned one of the new recruits, a handsome young man with a great sense of humor and “golden-green eyes.” “A shame he transferred to Ferren’s Keep last summer. Took off rather suddenly after he got the summons.”
Cethan adjusted his vest. “It was about a girl, I believe. She had just accepted a post there.”
Darren’s eyes shot to mine, accusingly, and I wanted to kick myself for letting this subject even come up. Why did they have to even know Ian? And what were they talking about? Cethan was mistaken.
“I swear to you he never said a word.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Whatever Ian’s reason for coming, Darren, it wasn’t me.” I’m not lying. Please believe me.
The prince’s pulse was hammering against his skin but he forced himself to exhale slowly. “I believe you.”
Andy cleared her throat uncomfortably after exchanging a glance with her comrade. They hadn’t missed the conversation between us. “Well congratulations on your win, Darren. Ryiah, you gave a great effort. Who would have known we were in the presence of two prodigies that whole time onboard? Don’t forget us little people while you are saving the world.”
Darren’s smile was forced, and mine wasn’t much better. I wanted to find Ian and confront him over Cethan’s accusation, but I was not about to do it around Darren. So I strung along and joined him for small talk instead. A long succession of well-wishers followed in Andy and Cethan’s wake.
Last but not least were Blayne and his new wife. The crown prince and I still weren’t close by any means, but since his revelation I found him a bit harder to hate. I understood him, and that almost made it worse. We still avoided direct conversation if we could, and I spent the majority of our reunion conversing with Wren instead.
Wren had a sweet tooth and was quick to describe each one of her favorite desserts since arriving in Montfort. Such a lovely girl. Even though she was boring me to death with talk of pastries, I still found myself eager to please. She was the complete opposite of her conniving uncle, Duke Cassius. Fortunately the Pythian ambassador was too busy filling his cup with drink to be much of a hindrance.
“Which one was your favorite, darling?” Wren tugged on Blayne’s hand to draw him away from his talk with his brother.
The crown prince took a deep sip from his glass. “The raspberry tart, same as you, my dear.”
“Would you like me to—”
“Blayne, you don’t look well.” Darren interrupted the princess with a start.
“You don’t look that well, either, Darren.” Blayne’s tone was sardonic.
“True, but I’m still healing.” The non-heir’s brow furrowed. “You have nothing to be healing from.”
I studied Blayne and was alarmed to see Darren was right. A heavy sheen of sweat had broken out along his brother’s forehead. Blayne looked pale—so much lighter than when he and Wren had arrived a mere five minutes before.
“Truly, brother, I’m—”
The crown prince never finished. His goblet fell to the marble tile with a loud clash. Darren caught his brother by the arms just as Wren started to scream for a healer.
“Healer!” Darren’s voice roared out above the crowd. He had cast a defensive sphere in place. “Guards, get my brother a healer NOW!”
The floor broke out into a frenzied herd as servants and nobility alike came rushing to tend to the heir. Mage Marius and several guards formed a circle as a cluster of healers rushed in to help. I stumbled out of the way and almost slipped to give them space. Something was familiar. Something I couldn’t place my finger on, but it had to do with Blayne…
Red seeped out on the marble floor beneath my boots. But it wasn’t blood.
The wine.
His mother. Queen Lillian. And her poisoned wine.
The Caltothians had done it to her…
I started running to the front where I had seen Lord Tyrus last.
And I spotted him. Removing a dagger from the inside of his cloak. Right behind the king who was trying to push through to his son—
“To the ki-”
My hand shot out to cast as I cried—but it was too late. My magic was nothing but a whisper of flame. The potions the healers had given me had slowed its recovery to help speed my physical health.
I was helpless as the Caltothian plunged the weapon into King Lucius’s back.