The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles 2)

She explained that Kaden had sent her to bring me down to Sanctum Hall. She stepped closer, her hands on her hips, scrutinizing my attire. I lifted my chin, proudly wearing the dress Effiera had made. It fit snugly and perfectly, but Calantha looked at it with a disdainful air.

“The Komizar will not be happy about this.” A hint of a smile lit her face.

“And that pleases you? You’d like to see his hatred for me inflamed?”

She walked over and touched the dress, rubbing the soft leather between her fingers. “Do you even know what you’re wearing, Princess?”

The flutter returned to my chest. “A dress,” I said uncertainly. “A beautifully crafted dress, even if it’s made of scraps.”

“It’s the dress of the oldest clan of Venda.” She looked at my exposed shoulder. “With a few modifications. It’s a great honor to be given the dress of many hands and households.” She looked around the room at the other clothes. “You’ve been welcomed by the clan of Meurasi. That’s sure to spark the wrath of many in the Council.”

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She sighed, the smile playing in her eye again, and gave me one last long look. “Yes, a great many,” she mused, and motioned to the door. “Ready?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

RAFE

“Get your boots on, Emissary. The Komizar says I have to feed you.”

The two of us, alone in my room at last, and my hands were free.

It was a chance I had dreamed about every night as I crossed the Cam Lanteux. I stared at him, not moving. I could be upon him before he even had a chance to draw the weapon at his side.

Kaden grinned. “Assuming you could even disarm me, would it be worth it? Think carefully. I’m all that stands between Lia and Malich and a hundred more like him. Don’t forget where you are.”

“You seem to have a low regard for your countrymen.” I shrugged. “But then, so do I.”

He ambled closer. “Malich is a good soldier, but he tends to hold grudges when someone gets the best of him. Especially someone half his size. So if you care about—”

I grabbed my boots and sat down. “I have no interest in the girl.”

A puff of air shook his chest. “Sure you don’t.” He walked to the table and picked up the goblet that Lia had sipped from earlier. He ran his thumb along the smudged rim, eyed me, then set it back down. “If you have no interest, then we have no score to settle, right? You’re only here minding the affairs of your prince.”

I jerked at the leather pulls of my boot. It was hard to believe we had bunked in the same barn for half the summer. How we had managed not to kill each other then I didn’t know, because there had always been tension between us, even from our first handshake at the water pump. Follow your gut, Sven always told me. How I wished I had. Instead of cutting in on a dance I should have cut his—

“Chimentra. It’s a word you might find useful,” he said. “There’s nothing like it in the Morrighese or Dalbretch languages. Your languages are essentially the same, one kingdom sprang from the other. Our kingdom had to struggle for everything we have, sometimes even our words. It comes from Lady Venda and a story she told of a creature with two mouths but no ears. One mouth can’t hear what the other says, and it’s soon strangled in the trail of its own lies.”

“Another word for liar. I can see why you’d have need of such a word. Not all kingdoms do.”

He walked over and looked out the window, unafraid to turn his back on me, but his hand was never far from the dagger at his side. He examined the narrow window as if judging its width, then turned back to me. “I still find it interesting that the prince’s urgent message for Venda came right on the heels of Lia’s arrival here. Almost as if you were following us. Interesting too that you came alone and not with a whole entourage. Isn’t that how you soft courtly types usually travel?”

“Not when we don’t want the whole court to know guarded business. The prince is already assembling a new cabinet to replace his father’s, but if they get the slightest hint of his plans beforehand, they’ll quash it. Even princes have only so much power. At least until they become kings.”

He shrugged as if unimpressed with princes or kings. I pulled on my other boot and stood. He indicated with the sweep of his hand that I should exit first. As we walked down the corridor, he asked, “You find the accommodations to your liking?”

The room was basically a boudoir furnished with an oversized bed, feather mattress, netted canopy, rugs, tapestries on walls, and a wardrobe that held thick soft robes. It smelled of perfumed oils, spilled wine, and things I didn’t want to think about.

Kaden grunted at my silence. “It’s one of his indulgences, and he prefers not to entertain female visitors in his own quarters. I suppose the Komizar thought his frilly emissary boy would be comfortable in it. And it seems you are.” He stopped walking and faced me. “My own quarters are much plainer, but Lia seems to be content there. If you know what I mean.”

We stood chest to chest. I knew what game he was playing. “You think you can goad me into lunging at you so you can slit my throat?”

“I don’t need a reason to slit your throat. But I do want to tell you this. If you want Lia to live, stay away from her.”

“And now you’re threatening to kill her?”

“Not me. But if the Komizar or Council gets even the faintest whiff that the two of you are conspiring together, not even I can save Lia. Remember, your lies might still be found out. Don’t bring her down with you. And don’t forget, she chose me over you last night.”