Kingsbane
Her pain ordered her to surrender, and she obeyed.
45
Rielle
“I’m writing this, desperate. Audric, he has beaten me. My body is in agony. He is moving against you. He has been gathering those loyal to him, planning his attack for months. He asked me for my loyalty, and I said I would be a friend to you both—to House Sauvillier and House Courverie. And he beat me for it. I can hardly breathe. I fought him, but not well. He ripped my castings from me. I barely escaped. I’m hiding now. I’m leaving this letter with a friend who I hope will get it to you faster than any other messenger. Audric, he intends to—”
—An undated letter written by King Ilmaire Lysleva to Prince Audric Courverie, confiscated by Lord Merovec Sauvillier
The ring of light disappeared shortly after Eliana jumped through it, snapping closed with a sharp nick like the rap of a blade against wood.
Rielle watched the spot where the light had been, following each white-gold spark as it scattered and vanished. And as she stood there, the mad swirl of her thoughts diminished, leaving her feeling hollowed out. From beyond the forest canopy came the cry of Atheria, who circled nervously overhead.
Rielle whirled to face Corien. “What are you playing at? Is this some sort of trick you’ve designed to punish me?”
He watched the place where Eliana had disappeared, frowning, his gaze distant. “Not a punishment. I knew nothing of this before it happened.”
“You’re deceiving me. You want to drive me mad.”
“I don’t.”
“You lie.”
He finally looked at her. “Not to you, and not about this.”
“I hate you.” She turned away, touching her blazing-hot temples. “I hate you so much I taste it like poison on my tongue.”
He followed her as she walked unsteadily out of the trees. “That girl wasn’t some illusion I conjured, Rielle. She was real.”
“Stop talking to me. Both in and out of my head.” Rielle stepped out into the sunlight, squinting. She whistled for Atheria. “I don’t trust a word you say. I don’t trust either of you.”
“It’s wise of you to mistrust the rat. But I’m just as puzzled by what’s happened as you are. Well.” He paused, his eyes turning distant once more. “Not quite as puzzled, perhaps.”
Atheria knelt, and Rielle scrambled atop her. From her high perch on the chavaile’s back, she glanced down only once more at Corien, steeling herself against his steady, moon-bright gaze.
“You made a fool of me today,” she said tightly, looking out upon the woods she had shredded. “Chasing after some figment of your twisted imagination like a madwoman.”
“Rielle, I swear to you—”
“I care nothing for your promises,” she snapped. “Not today. And you would be wise to stay away from me until the memory of this day has faded.”
Then she turned her back on him and urged Atheria up into the sky.
• • •
They landed on the terrace outside her rooms, and once Rielle had walked shakily inside, she sank to the floor, hugging her middle. She laid her cheek against the carpet and wept—long, ragged sobs that rubbed her throat raw.
Atheria watched from the terrace, wings folded against her body. One anxious hoof pawed against the white stone.
There you are. Ludivine’s voice rose swiftly. You can’t just run away like that. Audric’s out of his mind with worry.
Rielle could not breathe beneath the weight of Ludivine’s relief. It clung to her like a membrane, sticky and gelatinous. She buried her head in her arms, tugging on her hair.
“Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Stop talking to me. I can’t bear it. I know about the saints, about what they did to you. Their lies, their great deception. You never told me, and now how am I supposed to trust you?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you want vengeance? Is that why you’ve befriended me?”
No.
“You plot against me, right here in my home.”
No. Ludivine’s thoughts were heavy with sadness. Darling, how can you think this of me? I love you.
“I can’t trust you,” Rielle whispered. “I can trust no one, not even my own mind. My skull will crack open. I will split apart.”
I’m sending Audric upstairs.
“No!” Rielle croaked. “Not him. Not now. Evyline. Send me Evyline, and stay away from me.”
Ludivine said nothing more, and a few minutes later, the doors to her rooms opened to admit Evyline, Dashiell, and Riva.
“Just you, Evyline, please,” Rielle said, and when the others had left, and Evyline had knelt beside her, Rielle turned to her, reaching blindly for her. Her pounding heart would not slow. “Please sit with me, and say nothing.”
Evyline settled herself awkwardly on the rug. She clasped Rielle’s hand in her own. “Yes, my lady. For as long as you need me.”
And for a time, Rielle cried in peace, reassured by the solid, unquestioning weight of Evyline beside her. Through her tears, she watched Atheria’s tail flick back and forth, a pendulum of feathered gray.
Then the doors flew open, and all peace was shattered. Audric said her name, striding fast across the room, and Rielle squeezed her eyes shut against the sound of his voice. She could not put the image of the girl Eliana out of her mind. Those huge dark eyes. Her pitiful pleas for mercy.
“Leave us, Evyline,” Audric instructed, kneeling beside them.
“No,” Rielle whispered. “I need her.”
“Stay, then,” Audric said at once. He touched Rielle’s hair. “What’s happened, darling?”
She caught his face gently in her hands, wound her fingers in his soft curls. “Don’t leave me. No matter what happens, don’t leave me.” Fresh tears rose to her eyes; she could not dislodge the sudden, bone-shaking fear that she would lose him.
He locked eyes with her and said softly, “I’ll never leave you. You are my light and my life.” He kissed each of her palms and then the salty corners of her mouth.
She turned her face up to receive him, like a flower desperate for the sun. “Evyline,” she whispered, “you may leave us now.”
Once they were alone, he helped her up from the floor and carried her to the chair by the hearth. She settled in his lap, worrying her hands together restlessly.
“You’re shaking,” he said, stilling her wrists. “What happened to you? Where did you go?”
“I needed fresh air,” she lied, for she had no intention of telling him what had happened on the mountain, beyond the fact of Corien sending her an upsetting vision. Her daughter. An outrageous, ludicrous deception.