Carys forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right. I value your thoughts on this.”
Larkin looked at Carys. “But if you don’t mind me asking, Highness, what are your thoughts of our seer? All anyone in town knows for sure is that she is young and lovely.”
In the shifting shadows cast by the candlelight, Carys stepped into the next garment. Careful not to meet Larkin’s gaze, Carys pictured the dark-eyed oracle who moved through the castle as quiet as a ghost but seemed to be everywhere and see everything.
“She’s . . . smart,” Carys offered. It was no lie. On the rare occasion Imogen spoke of matters other than the wind and the stars, her future sister showed vast knowledge of the kingdom’s history and the inner workings of the castle.
“And she’s dedicated,” Carys added. In the six months since the seer had been summoned from the Guild to court, Imogen had spent several hours of each day on the battlements, either in meditation with the stars or in consultation with the Masters in charge of the windmills.
“My father and the Council believe Lady Imogen has great power.”
“I didn’t ask what they thought, Highness.” Larkin pulled the laces of the white-and-rust dress tight. “I asked about you.”
Carys shrugged and turned again to the looking glass. Her long pale hair glowed almost silver in the shifting light. “I have not spent enough time alone with Imogen to know her well.” Or to trust her.
“Has Andreus spent much time with her?”
Carys looked hard at her friend. “Why do you ask about Andreus? Have there been whispers in the city about the two of them?”
Her brother’s study of the windmills was almost as well known to the people of the kingdom as his other hobby.
Larkin took a step back. “I meant no offense, Highness. There has been no gossip about Lord Andreus and Lady Imogen. Only about how quickly she charmed Prince Micah.”
Carys let out a breath in relief. Her twin wasn’t known to have many boundaries when it came to attractive women, and many of the women he encountered seemed to have even fewer than he did. While she did her best to stand by her brother, there were some things she couldn’t protect him from: first and foremost, himself.
Larkin looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then she shook her head and asked instead about the details of the upcoming wedding. Carys was happy to switch the conversation to talk of the ceremonies and balls and tournaments that would be held in the royal couple’s honor in the glow of Eden’s orb. With the cold coming and the expense of the war looming, the Council of Elders had suggested the festivities stay within the castle walls. Her father had agreed with the Council, but Micah refused to accept their decision since everyone in the kingdom would hear of the lack of typical amusements. They would speculate about the depth of the Council’s support for the Crown Prince and his betrothed, or whether the descendants of the exiled House of Bastian might be the Elders’ true choice for the throne.
Carys understood her elder brother’s concerns. Rumors alone could be enough to spur another contest for the crown, especially with a war depleting their guards. So she’d bided her time until she found her brother alone in his rooms, then laid out her plans for expanding the celebrations.
“You must tell Father you’ve been approached by people who are certain the lack of festivities means that we are losing the war. Have some of your friends say they’ve heard from their fathers that a smaller than normal wedding celebration is the signal to the highest lords to flee the city.”
“You want people to think we’re losing the war?”
“No.” People thought that anyway. “I want Father to believe his lukewarm support for your wedding confirms for our people that Eden is losing the war. He and the Council will be forced to make the celebration the grandest seen in centuries to prove their confidence in victory. And once the people witness the generosity you show at your wedding tournament, they will look forward to your reign. You will make them feel safe in their homes and gain their loyalty all in one sweep.”
It only took a day for Carys to hear the rumors about what the dearth of pomp and circumstance meant for the realm, and a day more for the proclamation of a celebratory tournament, street fair, and ball to be held in honor of the nuptials. The construction of the tournament challenges had begun almost immediately on the contest field a league from Garden City’s walls. They were supposed to be done by the time Micah and Father returned from their review of the battlefields to the south.
The sun had set by the time the last dress had been fitted. Carys walked to the window and studied the sky as Larkin tucked the garments away. “The days are so much shorter now that autumn is coming to a close.”
“The planters all believe there will be more snow than usual this year. If so, people will be doubly grateful for the memory of the wedding festivities. They will have stories to tell on days too bitter and dangerous to venture outside.” Larkin closed the wardrobe doors and turned. “I only wish I could be here to see it all.”
“The wedding is in five weeks,” Carys said. “Surely you and your father will be in town. Will it not be too late in the season for you to go out on commission trips by then?” Goodman Marcus’s skills were often sought by lords and ladies throughout the strongholds of Eden, and Larkin, now equally skilled, accompanied him. Carys envied their closeness and their freedom to do as they wished without always having to be on their guard. But Goodman Marcus was careful to stay close to Garden City in the winter months. He was wise to do so. The Xhelozi, growing in number every year, were fierce, and winter was their hunting season.
Larkin smiled. “It is late in the season to travel for work, but not too late to travel to my new home.”
Everything inside Carys went still.
“New . . . home?”
Larkin looked down at her hands. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I met someone. His name is Zylan—a furrier whose family lives in Acetia in the shadow of the Citadel. And, well . . .” She looked up with a shy smile. “I’m betrothed.”
“Betrothed. You are moving away?” Other than Andreus, Larkin was her only true friend. And now she was going to Acetia—the district of Eden farthest from the palace’s orb—in order to get married and live a life of her own. A life with responsibilities she chose instead of ones pressed upon her through schemes or circumstances of birth. A life no longer filled with those thirsting for power.
“Is this what you wish to do?” Everything inside her churned. The candles and hearth fire flickered. “If your father is insisting you marry, I could intercede on your behalf. Explain that you are still young and wish to wait.”
“I’m four months older than you, Highness. Zylan is a good man. He said he knew the moment we met that we would wed. He cares for me.”
“Of course he does.” Carys blinked back the sting of tears. Crying was a weakness she couldn’t afford. Not even for a friend. “You are one of the best people I have ever met. He would not be worth marrying if he didn’t see that. When do you plan to wed?”
“On Winter Solstice. I will live with Zylan’s sister’s family until then. Father believes we should travel as soon as possible since the days are getting shorter. He says it will be good for Zylan and me to have several weeks to get to know each other better before the ceremony. I think he’s hoping I’ll change my mind so he doesn’t have to cook for himself.”
“But you won’t.” Once Larkin’s mind was made up, she rarely changed it. And once her steadfast heart was given, it never was taken back. She’d proven that time and again over the years.
Larkin placed a hand on Carys’s arm. “I know when you meet him you will understand why I have to go. You will love him, too.”
Perhaps. But Carys would also hate him for taking her friend.
She never wished anything so much as that she, too, could go to Acetia, at least to attend Larkin’s marriage. But it could never be. People would talk if Carys left the city. They’d realize how important Larkin was to
her. Carys’s wedding gift to Larkin would have to be the gift of letting her go without the threat of the darkness following her. Maybe then Larkin could be free for the both of them.
“I shall hope for strong winds to guide your steps, but I will miss you dearly.” Carys wrapped her arms around her friend, wishing she could be happy. Instead, there was emptiness.
“If only you could be with me,” Larkin suggested with a laugh that didn’t cover her tears. “Think of the trouble we could cause.”
For a minute, Carys let herself think of it—of finally being able to be herself and use her skills without anyone passing judgment. What would it be like to finally do something she wanted to do without using schemes or deceit? Who would she be then?
More than anything she wanted to find out. Instead, she said, “I do not think the world is ready for the problems the two of us would create.”
Larkin gave her a wistful smile. “Well, maybe someday. You never know how the winds will blow, Your Highness.”
“Maybe,” she said, even though she did know.
Her lofty, much-admired life was right here in Garden City. As long as Andreus needed her to guard his secrets and keep them all from harm, someday would never be.
2
“Almost done,” Andreus announced as he shifted his weight.
He could feel the chief of the Masters of Light breathing behind him. While he wasn’t opposed to having someone’s hot breath on his neck, he’d much rather the person be encased by the scent of perfume and be wearing skirts instead of reeking of grease and sweat.
Soon, he told himself as he tightened his grip on the iron pliers in his ice-cold hand. He should have thought to wear gloves, but the sun had been warm earlier despite the chill of the wind. Now the wind had started to blow much stronger and Andreus was ready to find somewhere comfortable to get warm.
“The updates will be ready to test in one more turn,” he announced.
Yes. That did it. Still he gave the pliers one more try to make sure the bolt was tightened before dropping the tool to the ground and rising.
Brushing his hands on his pants, he turned and nodded to Master Triden, who had moved closer to the base of the windmill, next to the control levers. “Ready when you are, Master.”
Andreus leaned against the white battlements and pretended not to hold his breath as Master Triden threw the switch closing the electrical circuit Andreus had just upgraded. If he’d done everything right, the beacons on the wall should be shining already against the darkening night sky. If he hadn’t . . . his father would never let him hear the end of it.
You’re a prince, not some common laborer. Act like it.
You should be more like your brother.
If you were less of a distraction, the Masters of Light wouldn’t be having such problems with the power on the walls.
“It works!” an apprentice half-hanging over the battlements yelled. “The lights are all shining—even brighter than before!”
The other apprentices cheered as Andreus pushed away from the white wall and walked over to where three Masters were huddled over the control panel.
“How does it look?” he asked.
Master Triden turned and grinned, showing off his broken front tooth. “The gauges show less power loss from this line. We are going to have the boys watching all of the power measurements throughout the next week. If this design continues to prove superior—as I expect it will, Prince Andreus—we will begin the process of replacing them all. With any luck, this winter there will be no outages and the kingdom will have you to thank. The King will be pleased.”
Andreus scoffed. The King was rarely pleased with a son who spent more time studying windmills than brandishing a sword. “I think we’ll all be pleased if Garden City gets through the winter without an attack.”
“The Council, our seer, and the King will all hear about your success in my next report, as will everyone else in the city. Your work to keep Garden City and the rest of Eden safe makes you no less a hero than Prince Micah fighting on the battlefields.”
Of course it did. Andreus should be with Micah and his father, winning glory on the battlefield. If death were the only thing to fear, he would be there—without question. It was revealing his secret that was far more threatening.
Master Triden bowed, then turned to shout orders at the apprentices. The gusting wind made Andreus pull his cloak tighter around himself as he turned and headed toward the closest tower staircase. The wind was blowing steady and strong. The temperature was dropping. Now that he’d been successful, he wanted to get to his next appointment, which was not only out of the cold but would, if the lady could be taken at her word, make him very, very warm.
Still, as cold as it was, Andreus stopped before he reached the tower door and walked to the wall to look at the city far below. The glow of the beacons was faint at this time of day, but soon they’d create a bright outline of the sprawling city. It was this light that kept the tens of thousands of people below safe from the soon-to-be hunting Xhelozi.
Not bad for a day’s work.
Smiling, Andreus walked out of the fading light and jogged down the staircase, trying to decide if he should wash before meeting the lovely Lady Mirabella or if she would find the streaks of grease on his hands appealing. He sniffed at his tunic and veered down the hall toward the royal family’s private section of the castle. There was nothing sexy about smelling like a rusted pot. A quick wash, fresh clothes, and—
“Prince Andreus,” a familiar silken voice called at his back. “Excuse me, Your Highness, but the Queen sent me to look for you.”
Andreus sighed, then turned and gave his mother’s favored lady-in-waiting his most charming smile. “Lady Therese, I hope my mother isn’t the only reason you’re looking for me. Because the Queen is certainly not the reason I’m happy to see you.”
The dress Lady Therese wore today showed off rounded hips, and the low neckline gave him a peek at her other assets. Since she’d come to court two months ago, the young widow had managed to dodge his interest, even turning down his offer of an up close and personal look at the orb of Eden. It was, at first, vexing. But he had to admit, her refusal made for an interesting change of pace. Having a crown meant that, more often than not, he didn’t have to chase his quarry.
“I am here at the Queen’s bidding, Your Highness. Your mother needs to speak with you.” Lady Therese curtsied and lowered her gaze.
“Did my mother tell you what she needed to speak about?”
Lady Therese shook her head. “She only said that it is urgent.”
The Queen thought discussing his breakfast menu was urgent. Heaven forbid he skip a meal and get lightheaded.
“Tell my mother you searched everywhere and couldn’t find me inside the castle.”
Lady Therese’s blue eyes widened. “You wish me to lie?”
Yes. Women liked him better when he didn’t tell the truth. “Would I ask you to betray your own conscience for me?” He gave her a mocking bow. A spark of amusement lit her features and he smiled in return. “If you turn your back and I suddenly disappear, you’d be able to return to my mother and tell her the absolute truth.”
His words pulled a low chuckle from Therese. “You don’t believe she’ll see through the ruse?”
“Of course she will. She will also assume that I used the charm she taught me in order to misdirect you. Believe me, the Queen will not punish you for what is essentially her fault.”
“You’re incorrigible, Your Highness.”
Andreus closed the distance between them and lowered his voice so she had to lean in to hear his words. “And you are bewitching when you smile.”
Closer now. So close the fabric of her sleeve was brushing against his vest. “We both have dealt with my mother’s urgent matters long enough to know that whatever problem she has can wait. And since you are supposed to be scouring the castle for me, my mother will not expect you to report back anytime soon. We could . . . pass some ti
me together.” Suddenly, the smell of rust and grease didn’t seem all that unpleasant.
“And risk upsetting the Queen?”
Andreus smiled and ran a finger down Therese’s hand. “What my mother doesn’t know cannot upset her.” Cliché, but clichés existed for a reason. He lifted Therese’s hand to kiss it and was surprised when she pulled her fingers away.
“I’m afraid I have other plans, Highness. But rest assured, I will first let the Queen know you have received her message. She’ll be expecting you.”
With that Therese turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Andreus to sigh at the sway of her hips and his miscalculation. Most of the girls in the castle were happy to do his bidding. Clearly, Therese was different. He admired her even as he cursed her for ensuring that now he’d have to go deal with his mother.
He turned the corner and in the distance spotted Chief Elder Cestrum. The white-haired advisor put his iron claw on Elder Ulrich’s arm as they talked in front of the entrance to the Council’s chamber. Quickly, Andreus turned, put up the hood of his cloak, and veered down the hall to the left. He was more than willing to take the long route in order to avoid the Chief Elder.
While Andreus was grateful to Elder Cestrum for convincing his father to allow Andreus to work with the Masters of Light, Andreus wasn’t stupid. Nothing the Council did was out of the goodness of their hearts.
Maybe if things were different he would be like the others in court, brokering favor and pitting people against one another to gain power. But his secret needed to stay just that. So he’d tried to let people know how little his father cared about the youngest royal son—and they’d believed him. It was the only explanation they understood for why a prince was always working among commoners with their rusty tools.
Carys did play the game—mainly for him—so she could distract people from looking too closely or asking questions he couldn’t answer. Ever since the Council had helped him with his request to work with the Masters, she’d been worried that the Chief Elder might start asking for favors. Andreus was hoping Carys was wrong. Being caught between his father and the Council sounded more than a little uncomfortable.