CHAPTER ELEVEN
Selene
The following week was somehow the most boring, yet the most anxious time of Selene’s life. Arsinoe forbids her from leaving the compound – when Selene tried to sneak out like usual, she was apprehended by guards and brought back to her chamber, hissing and spitting like a cat.
In the morning, Arsinoe summoned her daughter to her chamber.
“Selene, I am very displeased with you,” Arsinoe said. She stood proud and tall with her arms crossed over her narrow chest. “You fail to show respect for me, and for most in the kingdom. You’ve embarrassed your brother countless times, and you have yet to greet lady Taryn with respect.”
Selene frowned, glancing down at the rushes covering the stone floor. When Arsinoe slapped her across the face, she barely felt the sting of her mother’s hand.
“Selene, I am speaking to you!” Arsinoe screeched. “Pay attention to me!”
Selene glanced up at her mother with a dull look in her bright blue eyes. “Fine,” she said, leaning back in the chair and fixing her mother with a haughty expression. “What shall I say?”
Arsinoe sighed. “I have arranged a dinner with someone who might be suitable for you,” she said. “Please, Selene, do not embarrass me.”
Selene stared, expressionless.
Arsinoe glared at her daughter for what felt like hours. “You are a disappointment, Selene,” she said softly. “I do not understand why you couldn’t have inherited more from me, and less from your father.”
Selene raised an eyebrow and smirked at her mother. “Perhaps because you chose a dull man with little wit. Maybe it would have behooved you to be more discerning.”
This time, Arsinoe’s slap was painful as it was loud.
Selene cringed, leaping to her feet and putting her hands to her red cheek.
“You are insolent,” Arsinoe said, her voice dangerously low. “Now get out of my sight. I don’t wish to look at you anymore.”
Selene shrugged. “Fine,” she said. “Goodbye, Mother.”
Selene stalked up to her room where she grabbed a cloak before running down the stairs and leaving the compound. Thankfully, the guards weren’t paying attention and she was able to slip away unseen. For a moment, she considered knocking on Aya’s door. But Selene had not spoken to Aya since that night, down at the docks when they’d seen Taryn.
And somehow, Selene knew that Aya would side with Arsinoe.
Selene left the compound and pulled her cloak tightly around her. The day was windy and gray, with spots of cold rain falling the sky, but after being pent up in the castle for a week, the fresh air was welcome. Selene pushed her hood back until her dark hair was soaked with rainwater. She carefully lifted the hem of her cloak as she crossed over muddy patches of land. It wasn’t until she was close to the village that she realized where she was walking.
The sight of Phaelenx’s familiar home filled Selene with nervous anticipation. She licked her lips and knocked on the door, prepared to see his handsome, scarred face looming down at her own.
Instead, Brenna stood there, looking worried.
“Lady Selene!” Brenna exclaimed. “You’re soaked to the bone!”
Selene barely registered the friendly greeting. “Where is Phaelenx,” she asked. “I need to speak with him.”
Brenna frowned, a deep comma of flesh appearing in her cheek. “Why, lady,” she said uncertainly. “Master Darius and I both thought he was with you.”
Selene’s heart leaped into her throat and she swallowed nervously, pushing past Brenna into the warm, smoky kitchen. She lowered herself down at the table, her mind spinning.
“Lady Selene? Do you mean to tell me you don’t know what happened to Phaelenx?”
“No,” Selene said softly. “I…I have not seen him in days.”
Brenna gasped. She covered her mouth with wizened hands, looking frightened. “Oh, oh,” she said, closing her eyes. “I am so worried!”
“What happened?” Selene asked. “Tell me, tell me everything you know!”
Brenna paled. “That is just it, lady,” she said. “I know nothing. He spoke to his father and said he was going out, and then he disappeared.”
Tears filled Selene’s eyes. “He must have run away, into the forest,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. Suddenly, she felt every inch of the soaked wool wrapped around her body and she began to shiver. Her nose began to run and she wiped it on her sleeve, looking dejectedly at the floor.
Brenna sighed. “I fear the worst, lady,” she said. “Perhaps you could…” Brenna trailed off.
“Perhaps what?” Selene asked dully. “If Phaelenx has left, I won’t be able to find him.”
“Aye,” Brenna said nervously. “But, lady, perhaps you could inquire with the queen?”
Selene sighed. “I am sorry, but I don’t think she would grant me an audience.” Selene felt regretful of the way she’d spoken to her mother – by now, she was sure every royal knew how badly she had behaved.
Brenna didn’t reply. The look in her eyes hardened and she shook her head. “Lady, you are a privileged woman,” she said. “Please, use your position for something good – don’t you realize how you could help?”
Selene felt a chill wave of tension in the air and she got to her feet, straightening her wet cloak.
“I should be going,” Selene said quietly. “I am sorry for disturbing you.” She left the kitchen and walked back out into the rain. The drizzle had turned into a heavy downpour, and Selene could barely see two feet in front of her. It wasn’t even midday, but it was almost as dark as midnight.
Selene’s mind was troubled as she pushed through the rain. She couldn’t stomach the idea of going home – not with Phaelenx missing! Maybe some of the men at the docks know where he is, she thought. She broke into a run and ran down the sloping hill, skidding to a stop just in front of the muddy pier.
To Selene’s surprise, the docks were mostly empty. As she saw the completed ships bobbing and waving in the turbulent water, she bit her lip and sighed in frustration. Just as she was about to leave, she saw a troupe of travelers and bards, hunched under the shelter of a large tree at the edge of the woods.
Plastering a smile on her face, Selene stalked forward. She ducked under the canopy of leaves and stood close to the fire, warming her soaked face and hands in the bright flames.
“Lady, have you come with provisions?”
“Yes, lady, we are so hungry,” one of the men said. He was weak and skinny, with dry scaly patches on his face and a foul smell that reminded Selene of her chamber pot.
Selene fumbled in her cloak and pulled out a small leather bag, heavy with coin. She tipped the gold into her hands and passed it over.
“I am sorry, I have no food,” she said. “But you may have this. Where have you come from?”
The two men exchanged glances. The stronger-looking of the two had a small lute hanging from a gut string around his neck.
“For coin, you may have a song,” he said, bowing his head.
Selene frowned. “There’s something strangely familiar about your accent,” she said slowly. “Are you…are you from across the sea?”
The man’s face paled and he began to quiver and shake. “Please, lady, do not tell anyone,” he said, his voice stammering. “We are from Glasule.”
Selene’s eyes grew wide. “And you have come here? To your enemy?”
The man sighed nervously. “Lady, we heard there was steady work, in your harbor,” he said, pointing out at the ships. “We are nothing but poor bards, and we heard promises of food, and honey, and mead, all in exchange for honest work.”
Selene frowned. “Well, as you can see, that is over,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And what are you still doing here?”
The skinnier man jabbed the man with a lute. “Don’t tell her anything,” he hissed under his breath.
Hot anger flared in Selene and she stepped forward, grabbing the man with the lute by the neck. She tightened her fingers until he began to wheeze for air.
“I am a royal cousin,” Selene said proudly, straightening up to her full height. “And you will tell me what is happening!”
“Let him go, let him go!” The skinny man begged. “Please!”
“I will take back my coin and report you as thieves if you do not tell me,” Selene said. Her blue eyes flashed with dangerous anger. “Tell me, now!”
The man with the lute was turning blue in the face. He fumbled and swung his arms, but he remained as useless as a doll.
“Tell me!” Selene hissed, clenching her teeth. “Or I will have you burned at the stake!”
“Let him go,” the skinny man pleaded. “Please, lady!”
Selene loosened her grip and cocked her head to the side. The man with the lute struggled, pushing himself away from Selene, falling to the ground. He coughed and choked and spat wetly.
“Get up,” Selene said. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared impatiently.
The man with the lute struggled to his feet. “Thank you, lady,” he said, bowing his head. “Thank you for sparing my life!”
“I’m waiting,” Selene said. She tossed her wet hair over her shoulder, turning her back to the fire.
“Glasule is…” The man with the lute bit his lip and cut himself off. “Glasule will attack Zheka, once these ships leave the harbor.”
Selene raised her eyebrow. “That cannot be,” she said arrogantly. “Zheka is going to fight Nasenia, to the south. We are not even headed in the direction of your native land.”
The man with the lute shook his head. “Aye, lady,” he said. “That is all part of the plan.”
His words hit Selene like a sharp punch to the gut. Tears came to her eyes and she began to quiver and shake.
“Lady, do not be afraid for your husband,” the man said. “Perhaps you can tell him to leave?”
“I do not have a husband!” Selene spat angrily. “But we have been deceived!”
The men stayed silent and Selene fumed hotly, stomping the ground with her silken slipper. “That wench,” she said angrily under her breath. “She’s been planning this all along!”
The men looked at each other nervously. “Lady, I am afraid this is quite a shock for you,” the man with the lute said. “Perhaps we may accompany you back to your home?”
“No,” Selene said angrily. She felt as though she was going to be sick, and she knelt over, retching violently until sour bile spewed from her mouth and covered the ground in foul slime.
“Lady, you are ill,” the skinny man said. “Please, get home and back into the warmth. Keep your family safe, lady.”
“Tell me,” Selene hissed through clenched teeth. “Is there a royal cousin of Glasule named lady Taryn? With stunning green eyes? She is very fair, with long red hair and a cunning expression to her.”
The man with the lute frowned. “I…I do not know, lady,” he said.
“Tell me!” Selene repeated angrily. Hot venom was flowing through her veins and she thought with satisfaction of taking the lady Taryn’s pale throat in her hands and crushing it until she could no longer breathe and her face turned purple and swollen.
The skinny man bit his lip and shook his head. “No, lady. There is no lady Taryn in Glasule…at least, not a royal cousin.”
Turning on her heel, Selene stalked back into the rain and towards the royal compound. Of course, she thought bitterly as she headed towards home. Of course, Taryn is in disguise…but who could she be? Why is she doing this?
Selene barely had to think before the answer popped into her head. Taryn wasn’t Taryn at all, but an imposter from Glasule sent to bewitch the royal family and trick Zheka into going to war.
And unless Selene could get through to her parents, her brother, and Queen Zornaya, it seemed very likely that Zheka would be destroyed.
Just as Selene was entering the royal compound, Arsinoe stepped into the hallway. To Selene’s surprise, her mother smiled at her.
“Selene, you’ve decided to join us, after all,” Arsinoe said loudly. Selene’s heart sank as a young man followed Arsinoe into the hallway. He was pale and thin, with a mass of brown hair, spectacles, and a silk cord knotted around his neck.
“Um, Mother, I need to speak with you,” Selene said. Her cloak was dripping water and mud onto the fine carpet of the hall, but she didn’t even notice.
“Selene! You look awful,” Arsinoe said, eyeing her daughter critically. “Please, go upstairs and change at once.”
Selene scowled.
“Now, Selene, dinner is almost ready,” Arsinoe said. She turned to the young man. “Do you remember Freidan? He is visiting us for a time,” she said. “I am sure you wouldn’t want him to see you all disheveled!”
Selene suppressed a groan. She nodded, knowing that playing nice with her mother would perhaps help her later. “I will change,” she said politely. “Do not let me keep you waiting.”
Arsinoe’s eyes flashed with a trace of anger. “Be hasty,” she said. “We wouldn’t want the meat to chill!”
Selene darted upstairs and changed into a loose-fitting silk gown. She dried her hair as best she could and wrapped it into a coil at the back of her neck, securing it with a silken cord that reminded her of the one Freidan had worn around his neck. What a fop, she thought as she straightened her cuffs and neckline in the glass on her wall. He looks like he’s on his way to a pageant!
By the time Selene entered the dining room, everyone was seated. Freidan leaped to his feet, bowing in an exaggerated fashion at the sight of Selene.
“Lady Selene, you are too beautiful,” Freidan said gallantly. “Please, allow me to sit next to you.”
Selene resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Why, Freidan,” she said sweetly. “You just saw me a few moments ago, tell me, has my beauty really increased since then?”
Freidan’s cheeks colored bright pink.
“Selene!” Arsinoe snapped. “Please, do not be rude to our guest.” She beamed at Freidan. “I think Freidan’s comment was perfectly charming.”
Selene sat down with a heavy thump, narrowing her eyes. Across the table, Baelan and Taryn sat, staring at each other. Selene could practically see a ring of hearts floating around Baelan’s head, and she frowned.
“Your mother tells me you have a great interest in embroidery,” Freidan said, his voice rising up to a high pitch.
“Yes,” Selene said.
“Tell me, do you enjoy that? Embroidering things?”
Selene locked eyes with Freidan. “Obviously,” she said.
Just as Arsinoe was about to rebuke her daughter once, servants entered the room, their arms were laden with dishes of every type. The mouthwatering aroma of roast quail and potatoes filled Selene’s nose, but she couldn’t summon even an inch of hunger. Between Phaelenx and the news from the Glasulian beggars, she was terrified. The last thing she wanted to do was eat a sumptuous meal while seated next to an overdressed dandy.
“This looks wonderful,” Freidan said, eagerly taking a large portion of quail from the roasting pan when it was offered to him. “Tell me, Arsinoe, can Selene cook?”
Arsinoe laughed politely. “Oh, Freidan,” she said. “We are perfectly capable of keeping a cook! Selene has no reason to learn – one day, she will be the mistress of her own fine household.”
Selene swallowed nervously. Not if Zheka is destroyed, she thought, sneaking a glance at Taryn. To her annoyance, Taryn was smiling sweetly, her gaze fixed on Selene.
“Oh, of course,” Freidan said quickly. He flushed. “Selene, I believe the last time we saw each other was years ago. Do you remember?”
Selene didn’t answer. Her mind was running rampant with horrible thoughts – Phaelenx, lying dead in the woods. The Zhekan castle, flaming and crumbling to the ground in a mess of rubble. Aya slaughtered like a lamb and bleeding out on the dirt while the royal compound burned behind her.
“Selene,” Arsinoe snapped. “Freidan asked you a question!”
“Sorry,” Selene said, flushing. “What was that?”
Freidan smiled kindly at her. “I am sure the lady Selene is only distracted by the delicious meal in front of her,” he said. “I know I can think of little else.”
Selene glared at him. What a fool, she thought. Can he really think of little else, other than food?
“I was talking of the joust, years ago, where we met,” Freidan continued. He speared a large fingerling potato into his mouth and began to chew loudly. Bits of potato dropped from his lips to his lap and Selene had to make an effort not to raise her eyebrows in disgust.
“What of it?” Selene asked, reaching for her cup of wine. The wine tasted dry and bitter on her tongue, and she shuddered. Like blood, she thought.
“Do you recall?” Freidan asked, looking hopeful. “I told you that you were as beautiful as the brightest day of summer.”
“I am sorry,” Selene said. “I do not remember at all.” She tossed her head. “I went to so many jousts years ago, they’ve all bled together in my mind.” Unable to stand any more of Freidan’s pandering behavior, she got to her feet and put her napkin down on the banquet table. “Please, Mother, Baelan, Freidan – excuse me. I’m not feeling well, I think I shall go lie down.”
Selene had barely left the room when Arsinoe followed her into the hall and grabbed her arm, yanking her painfully back.
“What is the meaning of this,” Arsinoe hissed. “Selene, I warned you!”
“Mother, I am ill,” Selene said. She swallowed nervously, knowing that her chance was slipping away with each passing second. “Something is very wrong here.”
“I should say so,” Arsinoe said, narrowing her eyes at Selene. “You are behaving like a wench!”
“Mother,” Selene said nervously, licking her lips. She stepped closer, her heart pounding like a drum. “Zheka is going to be attacked by Glasulian warships, as soon as our own ships leave the harbor. This whole thing, the war against Nasenia…it’s a ploy to get our best men killed!”
Arsinoe stared at Selene.
“I’m telling the truth, I swear it,” Selene said quickly. “I spoke with men from Glasule, men who came because they were promised work!”
Arsinoe’s mouth fell open.
“I know,” Selene said. “I know, it is a lot to take in! But if we act now, we can be safe! We can tell the queen, and everything—“
“Selene!” Arsinoe hissed. “Have you lost your mind?” She gaped at her daughter. “What have you been doing in the woods, talking to strange men? You’ve gone completely insane!”
Selene blinked. “I swear it,” she said. “It is the truth! Glasule will attack us, and Taryn is behind it all! She’s not a native royal of Glasule, she is some witch, in disguise, out to kill us!”
Arsinoe slapped Selene across the face so hard that Selene’s head spun. She saw bright lights flickering in front of her eyes and she gasped in pain.
“Shut your mouth,” Arsinoe said, grabbing Selene by the shoulders and shaking her roughly. “You are telling lies!” Arsinoe’s face went white with rage as she yelled at her daughter. “Ever since you have begun spending time with that degenerate, what’s his name, I don’t know what’s become of you! I no longer know my own daughter!”
Tears came to Selene’s eyes and she blinked them away.
“I am glad he’s dead,” Arsinoe said loudly, her eyes blazing. “I am glad I ordered your cousins to attack and kill him!”
The blood drained from Selene’s face and she reached out for the stone wall to steady herself. Her knees and ankles felt weak and again she felt a strong wave of nausea break over her head.
“What?” Selene whispered. “What did you do?”
“He is dead,” Arsinoe said. “And I am quite finished with you. Go upstairs, to your chamber, and think. Freidan will propose tomorrow, and I urge you to accept him. No other man will have you now,” she said nastily.
“I don’t believe you,” Selene said. She pushed her mother roughly to the side and broke into a run, darting out of the royal compound. The rain outside had stopped but the air still felt damp and chill and Selene was panting as she ran down the hill and into the village. She no longer cared about dodging piles of mud and muck, and by the time she reached the familiar cottage, her skirts were soaked with grime.
Selene pounded on the door. “Phaelenx!” She yelled loudly. “Phaelenx, please! It’s me!”
The door swung open. Darius, Phaelenx’s father, stood there, looking pitiful and sad.
“Please, Darius, tell me – what happened to Phaelenx,” Selene asked in a shaky voice. “Please, tell me!”
“Men came and challenged him to a fight,” Darius said thinly. “He swore to me that he didn’t do it, but that was the last I saw of him.”
Selene sank to her knees and began to weep, feeling utterly hopeless.