The way she stopped and thought about it before shaking her head made Andreus shudder. “Of course not,” she said. “Micah needs to understand that he’s making a terrible mistake in marrying someone so weak. We have been at war with Adderton for years—with the guard fighting our neighbors, none could be spared to hunt the Xhelozi. Now we have a seer who cannot help us harness the power we require to keep the beasts away. Your brother needs to change course—before it is too late.”
“Micah won’t listen to me.” In the last few months he’d barely listened to their father or the Council. “And even if he would, he can’t remove the seer of Eden from power. Only the King has the power to order the seer’s death and appoint another.” Which Father wouldn’t do because removing Imogen would be akin to admitting that a mistake had been made.
“You misunderstand me, Andreus.” Mother walked slowly across the room and stared out the window at the darkness beyond. “I wasn’t asking you to talk to your brother. Trust me, I’ve tried. No, I want you to illustrate for him his lack of judgment in a way that only you can.”
Andreus frowned. “I’m not sure what you are asking of me, Mother.”
His mother turned from the window and faced him. “I’m not asking this of you as a mother. I am asking it as your Queen. Until Micah returns from the battlegrounds, I want you to spend as much time as possible with the fair Imogen. Tell her that you wish to hear her opinions on your new designs or whatever blandishment you think flatters her most. Then use those talents my maids say you’ve employed on them with great success. Convince her to make a mistake your brother cannot forgive.”
“Mother, you’re not suggesting . . . ” But she was. A mere glance at her expression made it clear. She was suggesting exactly what her words implied. His mother—his queen—was instructing him to seduce his brother’s fiancée into his bed.
Carefully, he put his hands on the table and said, “I believe, dear mother, that you’ve had too much tea.”
He glanced across the room at Oben, but his face was expressionless. After all these years of attending the Queen, Oben had become proficient at masking his thoughts.
Before this got any worse, which was hard to imagine, Andreus said, “I’m going to leave now and forget we’ve had this conversation.”
“You won’t forget,” she insisted, crossing the room to stand at his side. “You cannot forget because I am not asking. This is a command, and if you expect the Council to allow you to continue the work you like so much, you will do as I bid. And while you do, think of what happens to our windmills if there are no winds to keep them turning. Think about the war your father has us fighting with no second sight to guide his choices. Despite what you might think, we need a seer who can help the kingdom survive.” His mother took his hand in hers and looked at him with love. “Your sister and I have made so many sacrifices for you. It is time for you to repay that with some sacrifice of your own.”
No. He couldn’t do what she asked.
Because he already had.
Careful to keep the memories of Imogen in the windmill from showing on his face, he kissed his mother on the cheek and replied, “If that is all, Mother, I have an appointment to keep.”
His mother sighed. “Fine. But we shall talk again soon, and I expect to hear that you have done what you must for the good of the realm.”
When he turned toward the door she added, “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” He felt the same tug at his heart as always when she said those words. For all his mother’s faults, she did love him. The fact that he was still here in this castle, threatening all of their futures, proved it. “I love you, too, Mother.”
As soon as Oben closed the doors behind him, Andreus stopped and sagged against the wall.
Seduce Imogen.
He’d like nothing better. That night had played over and over again in his mind. The wind howling through the night. Her gentle hand on his as he coaxed a rare laugh from her. That touch was like fire that burned away the rest of the world until there was only the beating of the blades, the cranking of the gears, and her.
She was a seeress. One of the fakes that threatened his very life because of made-up predictions. Just days before she’d agreed to marry his brother.
And Andreus hadn’t cared.
Her mouth.
Her skin.
Her shy voice and downcast eyes that seemed only to come alive when she stood on the battlements and looked up at the sky. Or at him.
But she was marrying Micah because Micah wanted her and what Micah wanted, he got. Andreus had wanted to hate the seeress the day she told him that Micah had instructed her not to spend time alone with him again. He’d tried to hate her. But whenever he saw Imogen standing on the battlements alone or cringing as his brother barked commands at her, he felt the same tug of desire to take her in his arms and protect her from harm.
With the Queen’s sights set on her, acceptance would not be easy to come by for Imogen. If his mother didn’t get what she wanted from him, then she’d employ others. Maybe she already had.
He didn’t care.
He wasn’t about to get involved. Imogen was just a girl. And he had lots of those. Wasn’t one waiting for him right now in the stables, ready to say yes to whatever he wanted?
Andreus cast one last look at the double doors of his parents’ rooms and headed for the stairs. He’d wash, change, and bring Mirabella a present so she wouldn’t sulk over his tardiness. Sulking took away from—
Andreus stopped.
The lights flickered—
and suddenly everything went black.
3
Carys sucked in air as the lights at the top of the enormous white stone staircase flickered once . . . twice . . . and then went out. For a second everything was still. Then people began to scream.
Spinning, she looked down at Garden City spread far below her and watched as the wall surrounding it, too, plunged into blackness.
“Highness, you have to get inside the castle,” the most experienced of her two guards yelled as the other stood frozen at the top of the stairs. “We might be under attack. You have to go.”
Attack? She squinted into the dimness as people screamed. No bells tolled to signal that the guard had spotted a foe. But if they were under attack, she had to find her brother. She had to get to Andreus.
Now.
Since she hadn’t carried her stilettos with her into the city, Carys turned toward the young guard who was standing still as stone. She reached out and yanked free the knife the guard wore at his belt.
“Your Highness—”
“I have need of this. Tell no one that I took it or you will find yourself on the front lines of the war without anyone willing to watch your back.”
“The knife is yours, Princess. I will tell no one. But shouldn’t I go with you now and guard you?”
She doubted the boy was capable of defeating one of the stable chipmunks let alone whatever he worried was lurking in the gloom. But she admired his commitment to his duty despite his fear—of the dark and of her. “You should join the rest of the guard and check the status of the wall. Stand for Garden City as you have sworn to do and I promise you will be rewarded.” The boy gaped at her as she turned and over her shoulder ordered, “Go.” Then, picking up her skirts, she raced through the shadows bathing the arched entrance of the castle.