The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles 2)

The Komizar studied Rafe, drawing out the silence. He finally shook his head. “I’ve no reason to trust you or believe that the prince is any different from his treacherous father, or any of their plotting fathers before them. All of Dalbreck is enemy swine.” He stood and walked around the room, his head bent in thought. “Still … it’s an interesting game your prince plays—or that you play.” He looked into the faces of the governors, Kaden, and others present as though opinions were being gathered, but no words were exchanged, only a few subtle nods. He turned and faced Rafe again. “A few weeks are little enough to play his game. It might even be amusing. If the prince’s father isn’t dead and a messenger doesn’t arrive within a month, then his supremely foolish emissary will be sent back to the prince—a finger and foot at a time. In the meantime, I’ll send my own riders to Dalbreck to confirm the king’s poor health.”

“I’d expect no less,” Rafe answered.

The Komizar stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Rafe, with his hand resting on the hilt of Walther’s sword. “What’s your stake in this, Emissary Boy?”

“What else?” Rafe answered. “Power. The prince has made promises to me as well.”

The Komizar smiled, and I saw a glint of admiration in his eyes.

I had listened to Rafe spill out lie after lie with such grace and ease I almost believed him myself, and I marveled at how easily he conjured them, but then I remembered how smoothly he had lied to me back in Terravin. This was not a new endeavor for him.

The Komizar told everyone our business there was finished and they should return to Sanctum H

all. He would follow shortly. A few more words were exchanged with this governor or that guard, without aid of a cabinet Timekeeper flashing his timepiece, and all done with a casual air at striking odds with the previous conversation. Rafe would be sent back a piece at a time. The guards led Rafe out, and the governors filed out behind him. Kaden reached to take hold of my arm.

The Komizar put his hand out. “I’ll escort the princess,” he said, stopping him. “We’ll be along soon. I need a few minutes with her. To talk.”

“I can wait,” Kaden said.

“Alone.” A dismissal, firm and final.

My blood ran cold. Alone with the Komizar.

Kaden glanced from him to me and then back again, still not moving, but I knew he’d be leaving, one way or another. It would be better if it was on my timing. My terms. Now. My stomach knotted in fear. Now.

“It’s all right, Kaden,” I said, forcing my words out clearly and firmly, ignoring the Komizar as if he weren’t there. “You can go along.”

A wedge perfectly aimed.

If Kaden left now, it would be on my orders, not on the Komizar’s. The silence bore down, heavy and unexpected. Kaden looked at me, knowing what I had done. The boundary of loyalty had been pushed. He shook his head and left, the damage done, the heavy door rattling in his wake. It was a short-lived victory. Now I was alone in the room with the Komizar.

“So … you have a tongue after all.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the door. “For those who deserve my words.”

He jerked me around to face him. “For someone in your precarious position, you don’t choose them wisely.”

“So I’ve been told many times before.”

One of his brows rose slightly as he studied me. “It’s curious that you had no reaction when the emissary revealed Dalbreck’s betrayal of Morrighan. Perhaps you don’t care what happens to your own kingdom? Or maybe you saw no truth in the emissary’s story?”

“On the contrary, Komizar, I believed every word. I simply didn’t find it surprising. In case you aren’t aware, my father put a bounty on my head because I fled from the marriage alliance. I’ve been betrayed by my own father, why not a kingdom? I’m weary of the treachery of all men.”

He pulled me closer, his chest still decorated with the finest work of Morrighese artisans—a gift from Greta to Walther on their wedding day. Thick dark lashes lined his cool black eyes. An arrogant glint filled them. I wanted to scratch them out, but I had no nails. I wanted to draw my dagger, but they had taken that too. I glanced down at the sword at his side embedded with the red jasper of Morrighan, almost within my reach.

“So weary you’d be foolish?” he asked. “It’s harder to kill a man than a horse, Princess.” His grip on my arm tightened. “Do you know what happens when you kill the Komizar?”

“Everyone celebrates?”

A faint grin lit his face. “The job falls to you.” He released my arm and walked over to the table, his hand resting near a deep gouge. “This is where I killed the last Komizar. I was eighteen at the time. That was eleven years ago. Kaden was just a boy. He barely stood to my navel. Small for his age. He’d been starved, but he managed to catch up under my care. A Komizar must raise up his own Rahtan, and he’s been with me since the beginning. We have a long history between us. His loyalties to me run deep.” His thumb rubbed the groove, as if recalling the moment it was made.

His scrutiny turned back to me, sharp-edged. “Do not try to wheedle your way between us. I’m allowing Kaden this diversion for now. My loyalty to him runs deep too, and you might make an interesting diversion for all of us. But make no mistake about it, you and your supposed gift are worth less than nothing to me. The emissary has a better chance of being alive at month’s end than you do. So do not orchestrate games that you will lose.”

His irritation fed me. My well-aimed wedge had hit its mark. You are making me fonder of games by the minute, I wanted to say. It was as if he could read my mind.

His eyes burned bright, molten with threat. “I will repeat, in case your dim royal ears didn’t understand the first time, your position is precarious.”

I returned his stare, knowing that soon I’d see his whole army of butchers wearing the swords of Morrighan at their hips, that for the rest of my life, I’d hear my brother’s and his comrades’ dying cries being thrown up a windswept cliff into my face, all because of him and his disregard for borders and ancient treaties.