Zarrah slammed her elbows back, but more hands grabbed her arms. Her legs. Just before they tugged a sack over her head, Zarrah saw shadowed figures approach the barricade, weapons raised.
And beyond, her would-be saviors retreated from sight.
the cursed bastard kept pace. Higher and higher she climbed, and it occurred to Zarrah that she had no Icy wind ripped at her hair and clothes as she crested the summit, her heart skittering as she took in
“As opposed to the long life awaiting me with you?” Zarrah laughed bitterly, then pressed a hand to
Zarrah slammed her elbows back, but more hands grabbed her arms. Her legs. Just before they tugged a sack over her head, Zarrah saw shadowed figures approach the barricade, weapons raised.
And beyond, her would-be saviors retreated from sight.
THERE HADN’T BEEN a chance that he’d leave Sara in that place.
With Dax carrying her meager belongings, Keris had ridden back to the palace with his little sister on the saddle before him, her fists clenching the edges of the cloak to protect herself from the wind. Conversation had been impossible over the noise of the storm, his concern all for guiding his laboring mount and not being blown off in the process.
The horse’s hooves made sharp clacks against the paving stones as he rode through the gates into the palace, dismounting first and then lifting Sara out of the saddle. An arm around her back and the other under her knees, he moved to carry her inside, but she jabbed him in the chest with one index finger. “Put me down.”
He dutifully set her down. Sara held out a hand, and Dax scurried forward with her cane. “Here you are, Highness.”
“Thank you,” she said to him, then made her way into the inner sanctum, each gust of wind
threatening to send her toppling. Keris kept close, ready to catch her, but his sister only gritted her teeth as the storm lashed at her clothes and hair.
Instead of cutting left into the harem’s building, she pressed through the gardens, flowers and leaves from the shredded plants buffeting the group until they reached the shelter of the tower.
Servants immediately descended on them, whisking away sodden cloaks and handing over towels.
Keris only wiped at his face, shoving strands of his soaked hair behind his ears before turning to Sara. “You may have your old room back in the harem’s house. I’m sure they still have all your dresses and things.” He hoped they did, at least. When he’d informed his father’s wives that he had no intention of marrying them, as was tradition, he’d also told them that they had the liberty to stay or go live their lives elsewhere as widows. Sara’s mother had been one of the first to go. She’d not requested to take her daughter with her, only her jewelry and gowns, and where she’d gone, Keris didn’t know. “Sara, your mother—”
“Has left Vencia.” Her chin trembled slightly. “Lestara sent me a letter.”
Lestara.
The youngest of his father’s wives had taken control of the harem after Coralyn’s death, and she’d made it clear she had no intention of going anywhere. Much to Keris’s dismay.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. You said that when you were king, I would come to live with you.” Her face was full of accusation. “You haven’t even visited me once.”
Bloody hell. “Because it was safer for you if I stayed away. Safer for people to—” He broke off, having been about to say that it would be better if everyone forgot she existed. Except to her, it likely felt as though everyone had. Including him. “I’m sorry. I should’ve brought you here straightaway. The servants will have your old room made up now.”
“I want to sleep in the tower.”
Keris blew a breath out between his teeth. “The tower isn’t a good choice. Better to stay in the harem’s house.”
Her skinny arms crossed. “Because I’m a girl?”
The tower was traditionally reserved for the king and his sons, but Keris hardly cared about that and was stomping all over family traditions anyway. It was the climb that concerned him. “The stairs
…”
The glare his sister gave him was pure defiance, and Keris trailed off, shaking his head. “Fine. But you should know, I intend to sail to Ithicana as soon as this storm breaks to meet with Aren and Lara.”
Her defiance fell away, and tears welled in her brown eyes. “You’re leaving?”
Damn it.
Giving Dax a look that said he wanted space, Keris led his sister into one of the rooms that his With Dax carrying her meager belongings, Keris had ridden back to the palace with his littlefather had used for meeting with those who couldn’t make the climb to the top. Closing the door, he led Sara to one of the chairs and then went to the sideboard, pouring two drinks. He stared at them for a long moment, then gave his head a sharp shake and dumped the contents of one into the other. God, he needed to sleep. What other excuse did he have for nearly serving whiskey to a child?
Going to the door, he leaned out. “A warm milk.”
“With honey,” Sara called.
One of the servants nodded, and Keris shut the door again. Taking the seat across from Sara, he swallowed a large mouthful of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “I need to travel to Ithicana straightaway. I meant to leave already, but the storm was too fierce.” She stared at him silently, so he pressed onward. “I need to speak to Aren. To negotiate.”
“Father never went to negotiations himself,” she said. “He always sent others. Why can’t you send someone else?”
“Because I’m not Father.”
Aren’t you? his conscience whispered.
A knock sounded at the door and Keris twitched, covering the motion by reaching for his drink.
“Come in.”
The door opened, but instead of a servant entering, Lestara appeared. His father’s wife carried a tray with a steaming glass of milk and a plate of cookies, a throw draped over one of her bare arms.
dresses and things.” He hoped they did, at least. When he’d informed his father’s wives that he had no“Your Grace.” She dropped into a deep curtsey, the front of her gauzy dress cut low enough that, at this angle, he could see down to her navel. Annoyance flickered through him, and he pointedly looked away.
“Sara, we were so relieved to hear you were all right.” Lestara’s sandals made soft pats against the floor as she crossed the room, setting the tray down on the table. “And so happy to hear that His Grace has brought you back to live with us.”
“I’m going to live in the tower with Keris.”
Lestara laughed as though the idea of it were utterly ridiculous, tucking her blond hair behind one ear. “You must refer to His Grace by one of his titles now, darling. Circumstances have changed.”
Keris snagged the cookie that Sara’s fingers hovered over, giving her a warning glance. She tucked her hands into the fold of her wet dress, the childish greed in her eyes replaced with trepidation as she was reminded that eating in this palace always meant the risk of poison. “It’s fine, Keris,” she said. “I’m not really hungry.”
felt as though everyone had. Including him. “I’m sorry. I should’ve brought you here straightaway. The The faint growling of her stomach belied that statement.
“Sara may call me whatever she wants, because, as you say”—he bit into the cookie, marzipan roses crunching beneath his teeth—“circumstances have changed.” Picking up the glass of milk, he took a long swallow, nearly gagging at the sweetness. He hadn’t the training to taste poison, but it made his sister’s importance to him clear to Lestara. “Sara will take rooms in the tower.”
The daughter of a king, Lestara had been as raised on politics as he had himself, and she switched tactics without blinking. “Of course! It was presumptuous of me to think otherwise. As most favored sister, Sara deserves every privilege.” Slipping the blanket off her arm, she draped it around the girl’s wet shoulders. “I’ll order the dressmakers to come, as I’m sure none of your old gowns will fit, much The glare his sister gave him was pure defiance, and Keris trailed off, shaking his head. “Fine. But less suit.”