After five days, Tiern still felt absolutely out of place as a guest in the castle. He’d stayed there once before in High Hall, with the other hunters during the flooding rains, but to have his own room in the guest wing felt . . . strange. His quarters were nearly as large as his family’s entire house. He would have been more comfortable in a spare room in the soldiers’ barracks where he didn’t have to worry about manners and niceties.
Truth be told, he wasn’t feeling like his old, carefree self these days. The past months had opened his eyes and made him into a man, putting burdens and knowledge on his back that weighed down his smile. Between the great hunt and his brother leaving after saving Tiern’s life with his magic, a heaviness had settled about him. Add to that the things he’d witnessed in the towns of Lochlanach during his travels . . . those visions had rid him of the last vestiges of innocence in his heart.
Each day he’d been invited to dine with the royal family and Lord Alvi, and though he knew they saw his presence as a necessary precaution—a hunter on hand in case another beast invaded—he could not settle in and relax. The royals were too preoccupied to notice things that plagued him, like the way Lord Alvi sometimes watched him as if he didn’t trust him. Or the fact that he couldn’t hold his fork and knife in a proper way to cut his food and gently push pieces onto the edge of his fork to bring them to his mouth. He always dropped something, but the only person who noticed was Vixie. She was there with a smile and giggle every time.
Princess Vixie was the happiest, friendliest lass he’d ever met. His mood had been so dark since Lord Alvi killed the beast and Paxton left. The only time Tiern felt a fraction of himself was in Vixie’s presence. Her ability to lift his spirits was addicting. But ever since he’d learned he was of Lashed blood, and seen how the people of the land were reacting to Lashed Ones, his romantic ideals for the future had taken a dive into the depths of the seas.
The things he’d seen on his journey to the royal lands and in his own town, barely being held together by a few peacekeepers forcing the hotheads not to act in violence, had disgusted and saddened him to his core. He’d been prepared to help their local Lashed man if the townspeople had attacked, but thankfully it hadn’t come to that.
Towns were not faring well, and he shivered to remember. Burned homes and funeral processions. Eyes full of distress and mouths spewing malice. Normal people being worked up into mobs by hysterical leaders.
In one town he’d passed a man hanging from a tree by his neck with a sign that said Lashed Not Welcome Here. That could have been his brother, the best man that he knew. The sight nearly made him sick. Tiern had taken one look at the man’s unlined nails before sprinting down the path in a cold sweat to put distance between himself and those people. The man’s blank eyes haunted him. Had he been one of their registered Lashed who followed the law and never did magic? Or a sympathizer? Or merely a family member of a Lashed, like himself?
An irrational fear had risen inside him after that: Could people simply look at him and know he had Lashed blood, though he didn’t display magical abilities? Had people found out about Paxton and spread the word about the Seabolts? Was his family in danger?
Nay. He knew none of that was the case, but still his mind was cautious.
At breakfast on his fifth morning, a messenger entered and handed King Charles a parchment. The entire table stopped eating and stared, even the children, waiting to see how he’d react. Some mornings he simply read the note with a stoic face and excused himself. Other mornings he would shut his eyes or bang a fist on the table. Yesterday he flipped his plate of eggs and sausages over before barreling out of the room with his lords and the queen on his heels.
“What’s it say, Papa?” Prince Donubhan asked, just as he had every morning. And once again the king ignored the eager boy, lost in his own thoughts.
As they waited, Vixie sent Tiern a nervous glance from across the table. But the king simply stood without opening the parchment, and left them. The lords, ladies, and queen shared heavyhearted glances before they got up and followed, accompanied by Lord Alvi.
Lady Wyneth didn’t get up, and Vixie nudged her, whispering, “Go find out what’s going on!”
Wyneth appeared hesitant. “It’s not good, Vix. It’s never good.”
“Will you tell me what’s happening? They won’t let me in.”
Tiern followed Wyneth’s eyes to where maids descended upon the royal children at the other end of the table, helping them focus on cleaning their hands and faces.
Wyneth looked toward Tiern and Vixie, then lowered her voice. “Each day a commoner in different towns throughout Lochlanach has turned up dead. In Rozaria’s original notice she said people would be killed by new beasts. But these deaths have all been done at the hands of unknown Lashed. No blood or injury to be seen. All young men and women.”
Tiern’s gut churned, and Vixie gasped in horror.
“What is he going to do?” Vixie hissed.
Wyneth gave a sad shrug. “She won’t stop unless the laws against magic are lifted.”
Vixie’s eyes met Tiern’s, so expressive in her dread and dismay. He bit his tongue against all the things he wanted to say. Why would a Lashed One do this? Did they not value human life? Tiern shut his eyes. No, he couldn’t say “they.” That wasn’t fair. It was not all Lashed—his brother would never act that way. But it frustrated him to no end that a select few had decided to act in this extreme way. Did they have any clue how they were hurting their own cause?
“And to make matters worse,” Wyneth whispered, “they still have not discovered which of the king’s advisers was the traitor. He’s decided to dismiss most of them and keep only the two oldest councilmen who date back to his father’s reign.”
Shock zinged through Tiern, and he leaned forward against the table. “There was a traitor?”
Wyneth slapped a hand over her mouth. The princess waved off her cousin’s worries. “Tiern can be trusted. You must know that on instinct or you wouldn’t have blurted it out.”
Wyneth’s face turned red.
“I won’t say anything,” Tiern promised. “I swear it.”
They explained to him what had happened with the list burning. All he could do was shake his head, powerless. This, all of this, was greater than any beast. This was terror within terror. The people were afraid of everything and nothing, the seen and unseen, the known and unknown, all at once. Rational people were turning on one another. Lochlans were turning on their kingdom.
“But if he declares the laws to be overturned,” Tiern thought out loud, “more than one person will die each day. The entire kingdom could revolt. The towns . . . deep seas, the towns are not in good shape right now.”
Wyneth and Vixie both were quiet. What was there to say? They could do nothing.
“It makes me nervous for Princess Aerity to be studying abroad in the coldlands this month,” Tiern pondered. “I know she’s to marry a man from Ascomanni, but it still seems a poor time to send her on a trip.”
Wyneth and Vixie reacted strangely to this, blinking through a stretch of awkward silence. He immediately regretted saying a word.
“I meant no offense. I’m certain she’s being watched carefully.”
Wyneth muttered to Vixie, “I thought you’d told him.”
“Told him what, exactly?” Vixie muttered back with apparent annoyance. “Seeing as how I do not know anything about this trip abroad.”
Wyneth turned to her completely. “I assumed you would figure out the truth. Did she not write you, Vix? Where do you imagine she’s going?”
Vixie stared at her, thinking.
“Whoa, wait a moment.” Tiern held up his hands. “She’s not in Ascomanni? But a maid told me—”
“Nay,” Vixie said. “That’s the story Father made up to keep the staff and people from panicking. Aerity has . . . run off. Taken time to herself.” She tilted her head toward Wyneth. The two stared at each other, Wyneth waiting expectantly, until Vixie’s eyes went big. By now, Tiern was utterly confused and bloody curious.
Vixie began to sputter “Did she— Has she gone to . . . his brother?” She pointed to Tiern, and his heart sped up. Wyneth nodded.
“She’s gone to find Pax?” he asked.
The girls turned to him now.
“Aye,” Wyneth whispered.
Deep blue seas. His heart suddenly hurt, a massive longing for his brother’s presence overwhelming him. He had an urge to run for his horse to join them, but it had been at least five days since she left. He couldn’t believe the oldest princess would take such a dangerous risk. How many times had he himself thought of trying to find Pax? But his parents and duties to his town and kingdom had kept him planted in place.
“Is she alone?” he asked.
“Seas no,” Wyneth whispered. “Harrison accompanied her.”
“Did he?” Vixie asked with interest.
“Aye. But Uncle Charles believes Harrison went to find her and bring her back. So, as far as I know, he hasn’t sent anyone else out, though I think that might change now that a bit of time has passed. He’s getting impatient and worried. He’d have the military after her if he wasn’t so preoccupied.”
“Tell me everything, Wyn,” Vixie demanded. “I can’t even believe you’d keep me in the dark like everyone else.”
“I truly believed you’d figured the truth of it by now. And, besides, can you honestly say you wouldn’t have insisted on joining her?”
Vixie crossed her arms, scowling. She knew Wyneth was right. Vixie would have gone. “Just tell me how she did it?”
Tiern sat riveted at the tale of Princess Aerity’s transformation, and while Wyneth talked he felt himself warming at the thought of Aerity searching for his brother. She wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t love him. Their future queen loved his brother and was putting herself in danger to find him. And to think his brother could have killed the beast and married Aerity . . . if only he had not chosen to heal Tiern instead.
A flood of sour guilt made him woozy. He stood abruptly, his palms flat on the table as his head spun. Vixie’s large round eyes peered up at him in worry.
“Are you all right?”
“Aye . . . I just need a moment.”
Tiern walked from the dining area, trying to breathe away the tightness in his chest. But sea winds seemed to be blowing in the wrong direction for him at that moment because he ran into the last person he wanted to see. Lord Alvi was exiting the king’s office, a grim look on his face as he came to Tiern’s side.
“Let’s walk,” the coldlands man said.
Tiern exhaled and stayed at the man’s side as they walked down the halls and exited the castle. Several soldiers rushed out from behind them, and the hunters moved to the side to let them pass.
“They’re sending more troops to quell the restlessness in the kingdom.” Lord Alvi led them to the side of the cobbled road overlooking the sea to the west.
“Another killing?” Tiern asked.
Lord Alvi stared darkly out at the sea and gave a single nod. “They’ve scarcely any soldiers to spare. They’re all out searching for the Lashed woman and her henchmen, or henchwomen, as it may be.”
A sharp gust of wind hit them, and Tiern felt a lock of his hair come dislodged from its binding. He shoved it back behind his ear, muttering, “This is madness.” The king had to consider some sort of compromise.
“I need you to listen to me, Tiern.” The seriousness of Lord Alvi’s voice brought back Tiern’s earlier feelings of unease, but his next words were a punch to his gut. “Keep your distance from the younger princess.”
Tiern clenched his teeth. “I have no intentions of courting Princess Vixie.”
“And yet, it seems she has every intention of being courted by you. And after giving his first daughter away, I daresay the king would be remiss if he gave his other daughter whatever she wants. Unless, of course, there is a need to offer Vixie’s hand in a future proclamation.”
Tiern’s hackles went up in an uncanny moment of ferocity. “He can’t do that!”
“Oh, he can. And if necessary, he will. But settle down, lad. It’s not on the table yet.”
Tiern’s chest felt as if it were caving. If the king wanted to kill Vixie’s bright spirit, giving her away would be the way to do it.
“You’d do well to rein in your feelings for the lass,” Lord Alvi said. “You wear them openly. Think of the future of the kingdom. Think of your bloodline and what the people will do if one of their precious future royals turns out to be Lashed? Imagine the kingdom revolting, ready to tear down the monarchy and replace it. Always imagine the worst and never underestimate the people.”
“Enough!” Tiern leaned forward, hands on his knees, afraid he might be sick. “You’re only saying this because the princess preferred a Lashed over you.”
Tiern felt Lord Alvi’s hand press firmly against his shoulder. “I’m saying it because it is the truth. As royals we must think always of the people and the kingdom. What they want or don’t want will always be most important. Aerity understands this, but Vixie has not yet grasped it.”
Tiern stood upright again. As much as he hated Lord Alvi for saying it, he knew the man was right, and he could read between the lines. Princess Vixie would not leave him alone, so it would be up to him. The thought of hurting her feelings in any way was a massive blow to his system. He’d been a fool to pretend there was a drop of a chance between them to begin with.
He gave Lord Alvi a nod and made his way down to the docks to be alone.