Kingsbane

“Don’t listen to him,” Ludivine ordered. “He’s trying to poison you against me.”

Corien gestured impatiently with his sword. “And she wants what I want, the very same thing, only she cloaks her desires in kindness and lies.”

Rielle put her hands to her temples. Her mind was too full of their warring words. “Stop,” she whispered. “You’re hurting me.”

“Ask her what really happened to us.” Corien approached, pale eyes flashing. “Ask her what your beloved saints did. How they deceived us.”

“Shut your mouth, snake,” Ludivine spat out.

Rielle squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from them. Her head was a symphony of drums. “Please. I beg you.”

“Me, the snake?” Corien laughed bitterly. “I do what I do to save our people. Yes, that’s right. Our people. You’re an angel, too, or have you forgotten? And what you do, you do it for yourself. You think of no one. You’ve forgotten us all. You care only to save your own stolen skin.”

“Stop!” Rielle screamed, sinking to her knees. Their desires battled within her, tearing her thoughts in two. She curled into herself, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples.

Then, hands on her shoulders and lips against her brow.

She looked up, tears streaming down her face, and saw Audric kneeling before her. He was saying something, but his voice was coming to her from distant shores. She glanced wildly about the room. She was home, she was home—in Audric’s rooms, beside his bed of rumpled plum-colored sheets. The fire still crackled in the hearth. Behind him stood Evyline and two other of her Sun Guard—Jeannette, Fara.

“Audric.” Rielle gasped and leaned into him, pressing her face against his bare chest. “Oh, God. Help me. They wouldn’t stop. I felt them inside me, and they wouldn’t stop.”

A soft rustling of fabric, a familiar lavender scent. “Rielle,” came Ludivine’s voice. “I’m so sorry. I was only trying to help you.”

“Lu, get away from her, or I will banish you from this city,” said Audric, his voice more furious than Rielle had ever heard it.

Rielle shook her head against his chest. “Only you,” she whispered, curling her fingers in his hair. “Please, darling. Only you.” Her heart beat wildly. She felt Ludivine’s presence, very near, but blessedly gone from her mind, and refused to look at her. Her head still throbbed; she could still see the two of them, circling her. Corien and Ludivine, swords raised.

“Evyline,” said Audric, “will you please give us a few minutes alone?”

“What is this?” came a new, sharp voice.

Rielle looked up, bleary-eyed and nauseated, to see Merovec enter the room.

“Oh, please don’t worry,” said Ludivine, hurrying to him with a smile. She kissed his cheek. “Rielle’s just had a nightmare is all.”

“I’ve had nightmares, and it’s never caused this much of a fuss.” Merovec locked eyes with Rielle, his expression flat and cold. “What did you dream of, Lady Rielle? Are your nightmares the same as those you gave my aunt?”

“Rielle did not give my mother nightmares,” said Audric firmly. “She grieves the loss of my father.”

“And yet, again, I don’t wake screaming and half-mad from dreams of my own dead father.” Merovec approached, crouching to meet Rielle’s eyes. “What are you, exactly?”

“Merovec, that’s quite enough,” Ludivine snapped.

He ignored her, staring hard at Rielle. “How long until you bring death and madness upon the rest of us?”

“Say one more word to her,” Audric said, his voice vibrating with anger, “and I will see to it that you never set foot in this castle again.”

Merovec smiled. “Fine, then. I’ll say it to you: you share a bed with a monster, my lord prince. And it is of great concern to me that my kingdom’s heir continues to exercise such dangerously flawed judgment.”

“Merovec, you will leave this room at once,” said Ludivine. “You will go to yours and wait for me there.”

Merovec raised his eyebrows, glancing back at her. “She’s entrapped you too, little sister. She’s not your friend. She’s a thief and a whore, and she will be our doom.”

Evyline strode forward, putting herself between Rielle and Merovec. Jeannette and Fara glowered beside her.

“Lord Sauvillier,” Evyline growled, “if you do not obey my prince, my guard will be forced to remove you.”

“It’s astonishing how many people you’ve tricked into loving you,” said Merovec. “But, Lady Rielle, I see what you are. I see it plainly.”

Then, a familiar voice near the door.

“Audric,” said Tal, Sloane at his side—her face pale, her mouth thin and hard. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem.”

Ludivine drew a sharp breath. “They’re at the gates.”

Merovec looked swiftly at her. “Who is?”

“How many?” Ludivine asked, ignoring him.

“Thousands,” answered Sloane quietly.

“How did you know what he was going to say?” Merovec asked Ludivine, his voice brimming with impatience.

Rielle looked over Audric’s shoulder to meet Tal’s eyes. The lines of his body snapped with tension. He held his hands in fists, as if he wanted desperately to reach for her.

“Who is at the gates, Tal?” she asked.

He drew a slow breath. “Everyone.”

• • •

They swarmed the streets outside Baingarde, lining every road and courtyard of the temple districts. They leaned out of windows and gathered on rooftops. They threw rotten food over the castle walls, handfuls of mud and waste. The broad cobbled yards were littered with it. They banged their fists against the iron gates; they climbed the stone walls and were pulled down by the royal guard, hit on the head and bound by their wrists.

But they kept coming, undeterred by the lines of soldiers barricading them from the castle doors, and soon the lower yards were full of them. Lines of soldiers kept them back from the castle itself, but they climbed the fountains of the saints, waving torches and staffs and knives. They pissed in the water. Fights broke out—punches thrown in Rielle’s honor, vicious kicks dealt to ribs and skulls by those wearing ragged Sun Queen sigils splattered with red dye.

They jeered and screamed, the people of Âme de la Terre. They shouted names—Rielle, Audric, Genoveve. They called for Merovec. They demanded to hear from the Archon.