“She has slipped through our fingers once again, Lord Ventillas. It will be the last time. Lord Cassiapeus, what did she say to you? I want her words precisely.”
After a quick glance at Lena, who offered a weary smile, Cas told the queen everything, from the moment Lady Mari walked up to his fire with Luis. “She said she wanted to meet me. She was curious, and displeased about being chased out of Palmerin. She said it was undignified.” Cas hesitated before forging ahead. “She asked if you liked the dress she had made for you, and told me that you had chosen the silk together. She said she would have given much to have seen your face.”
Queen Jehan’s eyes were as cold as winter’s river. “There’s something else you wish to say. Say it.”
Lord Amador stepped forward. “Your Grace, the boy—”
“Are you Lord Cassiapeus?” Queen Jehan did not look at him.
Lord Amador clamped his mouth shut and bowed his head.
Cas said, “She’s toying with us, Your Grace. With all of us, but especially Ventillas, and you most of all. I wonder if we should look at this a different way.”
“And what way is that?”
Cas glanced at Ventillas, whose face gave away nothing. “We know Lady Mari is behind this. She answered to the name. The question is no longer is it Lady Mari? But why is she so upset with you? You, and the people who traveled with you? I think we must look deeper.”
No one spoke or objected, so Cas continued. “She was ill when you last saw her. Too ill to care for herself. Which means someone may have helped her, sheltered her. Someone knows what happened. If it were me, I would ride to the hospital in . . .” He could not for the life of him remember the name of the town.
“Gregoria,” Lena provided.
Cas bowed his head in thanks. “In Gregoria, and start there.”
Queen Jehan’s gaze settled, for the briefest of instances, on Ventillas. A look that was not missed by the king, who said suddenly to Cas, “Then that is what you’ll do. You’ll leave at dawn.”
Cas said, “I—Your Grace?”
“What do you mean, Rayan?” Queen Jehan said, taken aback.
King Rayan did not look at his wife. “It has long been a tradition,” he said, “for the king of Oliveras to appoint a queen’s man. A man he trusts without question, whose first duty is to protect his queen. Is that not so, Analena?”
Lena’s answer came slowly. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. Then I would be pleased if you would accept this role, Cas of Palmerin, in service to me.”
Cas saw it, the look of dismay on Queen Jehan’s face, before it vanished just as quickly. Ventillas showed no visible reaction. He did not have to. Cas knew his brother. He was as unhappy as the queen. Forcing Cas to ask himself, Why?
Lord Amador made no effort to hide his displeasure. “Lord Cassia is still young. A boy untried. There are far more suitable—”
“Are there really?” King Rayan said, his expression sardonic. “Far more suitable? Where are they? Sitting on their hands, it seems to me, allowing this woman to run rings around them.” A searing contempt encompassed both the high councilor and Ventillas, who kept his head high even as a vein throbbed at his temple.
“I choose a boy who survived a Brisan prison with his soul intact. I choose a boy who saved my son before anyone else could pull off a boot. It is the king who chooses, not the overly ambitious high councilor. Tell me, Lord Amador, who am I?”
Lord Amador quaked. The high councilor dropped to one knee, head bowed. “You are the king, Your Grace. Forgive me.”
King Rayan said, “Do you have any objection, Jehan?”
Queen Jehan looked at Cas. The tear tracks were still visible on her face. Just outside the tent, her old nurse lay cold in a horse cart. “No,” she said at last. “Lord Cassiapeus is a fine choice. Let him find her. Let him put an end to this, for good.”
Cas bowed. He tried not to look as overwhelmed as he felt. “Then I accept, Your Grace. I am humbled by the faith you place in me, and in my family.” His antipathy toward the queen had thawed. He could not despise someone who treated Clara as kindly as she had. But she was hiding something. He did not trust her. And neither, he thought, did the king.
A small box sat on a table. Lena brought it to King Rayan, who removed a gold ring and offered it to Cas. It bore the royal insignia, the bull and the flower. Cas slid it onto the middle finger of his right hand. It was slightly loose, which seemed to cheer Lord Amador, who had shuffled off to the side.
“Take this.” Ventillas removed one of his own bands, held it out. “It will anchor it.”
Cas took their father’s ring and put it on. A perfect fit.
“That settles it,” King Rayan said. “Cas, you’ll leave for Gregoria at sunlight. Take whomever you wish. People you trust.”
Cas did not look at Lena. “Whomever?”
The king paused. His gaze flickered toward his sister. “Whomever.”
Lord Amador was the first to depart. Queen Jehan held Cas back long enough to say, “If you find her, Lord Cassiapeus . . . I loved her once. If it is possible, please do not harm her.”
“Take this.” Ventillas handed Cas a dagger.
Cas took it without speaking and strapped it to his belt.
It was dawn. They were by the horses. Alone, but not for long. Lena and Bittor approached from the far side of the camp. Cas had asked them both to come. Lena, because where would they be if she had not discovered the ships’ inventory in the first place? Nowhere. This was her history to write. And he suspected she would not allow herself to be left behind. As for Bittor . . . well, Cas didn’t know why he had invited him—he just had. He would likely come to regret it.
Most of the travelers were still asleep in their tents or wrapped up in blankets by small fires. Sleepy-eyed servants went about their early morning tasks, carrying buckets of water and armfuls of wood.
“Take this, too.” Ventillas produced a pouch heavy with coin. “Master Jac sent word to the countinghouses, so they know you’re alive. If you need more, show the ring.”
“I know how a countinghouse works.” Cas took the pouch, tucked it safely within the saddlebag strapped to his horse. When he turned back, his brother was frowning at him.
“What is it now?” Ventillas demanded, looking as bad-tempered as Cas felt.
Nothing lay on the tip of Cas’ tongue, but Lena and Bittor had stopped to exchange words with a soldier. They were still out of earshot. Cas said, “What aren’t you telling me?”
A guarded expression came over his brother’s face. “About what?”
Cas wanted to shake him. But that would have hurt Cas more than his brother. His head pounded. “I saw the look the queen gave you. When I mentioned the hospital. Is there something I should know about Gregoria?”
“No.”
Cas pulled his gloves on. “Really.”
“Cassia. Enough.” Their snarls were attracting an audience. Two boys carrying rabbits walked by, their steps slowing and their eyes wide with interest.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Lena and Bittor were nearly upon them. Cas swung onto his horse and looked down at Ventillas, feeling a terrible sense of dread. “But whatever you’re not saying, the king suspects. Brother, be careful.”
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