Echoes of Silence (17 page)

I shook my head and gulped my wine. I hadn’t made it through a whole glass yet, but I still felt woozy and too warm. I slapped the goblet down on the end table, cringing with the resulting
clack
of glass on glass.

“I should go.”

“You should not,” Cris said, but it didn’t sound like a command. It was a plea.

“It’s very late.”

“And you have nowhere to be tomorrow.” Cris joined me on the couch, not too close, not too far away. It reminded me of how Castillo and I had sat on the bench in the park. I didn’t fear Cris, yet I dreaded what he might know about me.

“My maids—”

“Are used to being called out of bed to attend to their superiors.”

“I’m not their superior.”

He laughed and swept his arm across my shoulders. “You should amend that thinking, Echo. Queens think they are superior to everyone.”

“Then I will never be a queen.”

Cris quieted his laughter and studied me. “You truly do not think yourself better than Greta or Lucia.”

Surprise warred with horror. He knew my maid’s names. He knew Helena had left. “I do not. I’ve been in their position. I’ve washed another’s hair and blushed their cheeks. Are you suggesting I’m different now?” I gestured to his immaculate apartment. “Because I’m here and someone else isn’t? Because I wear silk and someone cooks my meals?”

“Such fire,” he said, running his fingers lightly through my loose hair. I didn’t wholly dislike it.

“Do you think you’re better than other people?”

“Kings must,” he said simply.

“Why? So you can treat the soldiers with indifference? So you can order the execution of your chef if he serves the steak too rare? So you can look the other way when innocent people are shot?”

Anger flared in his eyes. “You know nothing of what you speak.”

“Neither do you!” I stood up, the wine clouding my movements. “Do you think you’re better than other people? Better than Castillo, or Matu, or any of the others who labor to support you?”

“I am a king.”

“Do you?”

He gazed up at me, halfway between admiration and fury. “Echo, I don’t know what you wish me to say.”

“I wish you to speak candidly with me. Do you or do you not think you are better than your servants?”

He swallowed the last of his liquor, and his eyes drifted half-closed. “I do.”

Disgust clawed at my stomach, already ripe with the sloshing wine. “That, Your Majesty, is why you will be a weak king.” I hated myself then, for saying such things to him. His father surely verbally berated him at every opportunity—even when they weren’t alone, as I’d just witnessed.

“You’re right,” he said, stopping me in my flight toward the exit. He stumbled as he caught my arm.

“Excuse me?”

“I will be a weak king.” Cris turned and motioned me back to the couch. I stayed rooted to the spot, too tired to reason through his riddles. “It’s why my father thinks I need a bride with more backbone than I possess.”

Seeing him drunk and broken by his father softened my heart. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I don’t think before speaking.”

“It’s one of your best qualities,” he said, the words slightly slurred. “Don’t stop, please. No one tells me what I need to hear.”

“What’s going on here?”

“Here in this room? Or here in this compound?”

“Both.”

“Come sit down, and I shall tell you.”

I made my way over to the couch on numb legs. I sat farther from Cris than I had previously.

“I’m choosing a bride. I need someone with strength at my side, for as you so eloquently pointed out, I’m weak.” A half smile danced across his lips. “Right now, in this room, I’m learning how strong you are. It’s incredible.”

“Don’t patronize me, Your Highness. There’s more going on here than that.”

“Not for me.”

“What did your father say to you before he left?”

“What he always says. ‘Don’t mess this up, son.’” Cris pitched his voice slightly lower to imitate his father. “I’m a complete disappointment to him.” He raised his glass to his lips and lowered it with a frown when he realized it was empty.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my shoulders drooping with the memories of Olive’s occasional disdain. “You don’t need my disappointment heaped on top of his.”

Cris leveled his gaze at me. “The difference, my dear Echo, is that I actually care about what you think.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A simple servant girl? You just said you thought yourself better than people like me.”

“Not you,” he said, frowning. “Echo, I want you to be my wife. If I didn’t think of you as an equal, that would never work.”

Maybe the wine had muddled my brain, or maybe my mouth really had a mind of its own. “If I believed you, which I don’t, I might say that was a romantic thing to say. But, Cris, all the evidence points to the contrary.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you treated your servants as equals, you’d be a much
stronger
king; a stronger person and a force to be reckoned with. Your father wouldn’t dare to breathe threats down your neck, because he’d know you had two magicians waiting to sing him into the dregs of death if you asked them to.” I lifted my half-full wine glass to my lips. The liquor buoyed me up and gave me the courage to keep going. “If you treated Gibson and Bo as equals, they wouldn’t be the ones giving soldiers the go-ahead to murder people. They wouldn’t be terrorizing the very girls you’ve brought here to be their next queen. They wouldn’t be planning to overthrow you behind your back.”

I hiccupped and put my glass down. The color drained from Cris’s face, but mine felt hot.

“Bo and Gibson threatened you?” He spoke much too soft for one with so much anger harbored in his face.

“They did. I doubt I’m the only one.”

“You think they have a secret plot to dethrone me?”

My chest squeezed, realizing I’d said too much. “I don’t know. But I do know they’re looking out for themselves. Enemies don’t bond for any other reason. They like working for you, because you’re the future king. What they do, they do for them. Not for you. Never for you.”

He bowed his head and fiddled with the fabric of his suit coat. “I didn’t know about the situation in the courtyard. If I had, I would’ve stopped it.”

“Yet you didn’t. A strong king who didn’t underestimate his enemies would have known about it, and would’ve stopped it.”

“I will be stronger.”

“You will try.”

He glanced up at me. “Curse that mouth.” He smiled and put his hand on mine. “Yes, I will try. For you, dearest Echo, I will try.”

“Good,” I said. “Now I need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Name it.”

I took the empty tumbler from his hand. “It’s about the other girls . . . ”

Several mornings later, I found Castillo in the courtyard along with breakfast. He sat at the table, wearing casual clothes I hadn’t seen before. I hadn’t seen him once since our outing, since he kissed me, since I’d snuck down the hall and met the High King. As far as I knew, that secret still belonged to me.

“Good morning.” I sat across from him, glad I’d changed from my nightclothes into the house dress I’d finished the morning before. I enjoyed his company, and while Matu made a friendly escort, happiness filled me at Castillo’s return.

“You slept late.” He handed me a plate with an already rolled crepe.

“I was out very late.” I’d dined with Cris, and afterward, he’d taken me to the edge of the compound where the Burisia River touched. The slivered moon didn’t lend much light, and in order to tread without falling, I’d clutched his hand. I didn’t find it terribly disconcerting. In fact, there was little about Cris I did not like, a thought that had kept me awake long after Matu had escorted me back to my suite.

“Ah, yes, another one of your midnight rendezvous.”

I froze with the crepe halfway to my mouth, finding Castillo’s eyes and seeing the accusation within.

“I thought we’d agreed to wait, and watch.” He folded his arms, one eyebrow cocked.

I took a large bite of my breakfast and looked away. His sigh said it all, and none of it was nice.

I swallowed. “Who told you?”

“No one had to tell me,” he said. “I know everything that happens in this compound.” He leaned forward. “I know everything that happens to
you
—including meeting the High King and then getting drunk.”

My breath seized in my throat for a moment. “So, the High King,” I skipped over the drunk accusation. I’d barely finished one glass of wine. “What did he say about me?”

Castillo’s mouth quirked up in the fastest smile I’d ever seen. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if praying for patience to deal with me. “He said aqua isn’t your color, clashes with your hair.”

I threw my napkin at him but I really wanted to toss the entire crepe at him, witness how he’d handle wearing raspberry crème on his pristine shirt.

He laughed, perhaps the first time I’d heard him do so. “In all seriousness, Echo, you shouldn’t have gone alone. I would’ve accompanied you.”

I appreciated the sentiment, even if his voice also carried a dose of disappointment. “I asked Cris to make certain that no more girls were sent home. I don’t wish anyone to get hurt.”

“Did he agree?”

I nodded. “But I don’t think he fully believes me about Bo and Gibson’s harshness.”

Castillo fiddled with the napkin. “Cris doesn’t see things the same way you do.” He studied me to make sure his words hit their mark. “He’s petitioned our father for an early wedding, so perhaps your plan is working.”

“Perhaps.” I ducked my head as his gaze steadied on me. I hadn’t discussed my new plans with Castillo. He thought me willing to ensure Cris would rule behind me, while I’d refocused on purging the darkness from Nythinian magic and liberating Umon.

“I’m sorry I went without you.” I swallowed my confession about my new goals. “I felt lured there, by a power beyond my control. I didn’t know it was the High King. I thought I could handle whatever—and whoever—I found.”

“Echo, you’re always in danger,” he said. “Do you not see this?”

“I can handle Bo and Gibson.”

“Perhaps,” Castillo said gently although he meant, “No, you can’t.” He might be right, but I wouldn’t concede.

We ate until the crepes were nearly gone, as was his frustration and my indignation, until I couldn’t stomach the soundlessness between us. “How long have you been here?”

“Since seven.”

All the shyness between us came rushing back. “It’s nearly eleven.” My words caught on themselves as they left my lips.

“I know what time it is.”

“You don’t have duties today?” I nodded toward his blue collared shirt and brown trousers.

“Not in the compound.” He sipped from his coffee mug, and his cool demeanor, his declaration that he’d been waiting for me to wake for nearly four hours, brought a rush of frustration I couldn’t explain.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“You’re beautiful when you sleep.”

I swallowed my tea—and my smile. He knew his charm could win wars, and I saw no need to fuel his ego. I repeated my question.

“I’m leaving, Echo.”

I dropped my fork. “Leaving?”

Castillo looked away, his jaw clenched.

“For how long?” I picked up my fork and squeezed the metal as if I could reform it with my grip.

“Until the job is done.”

“What job?”

He answered by standing and smoothing down his perfectly pressed shirt. The summer sky color suited him better than the all-black soldier’s uniform. His eyes hinted at more gold than they had previously, but they harbored secrets I wanted to know, the same as always.

“I cannot tell you.”

“Castillo—”

He pinched his eyes shut. “Please do not say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

He moved closer to me, and I stood to meet him hoping that he couldn’t leave without kissing me.

“Like you need me.”

“I do need you,” I whispered.

“Cris wasn’t wearing lipstick this morning.”

A lick of heat shot to my face. “We haven’t—”

He caught my fingers in his, and I thought for sure he’d kiss me. Instead he said, “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll see me when you look at the sky.” I shoved the gathering emotion back down my throat. Grandmother had fed me this fairy tale whenever I felt anxious about doing something without her. “Look to the skies, Echo,” she’d said. “You will find me there.”

“I suppose we will share the same sky,” Castillo said.

I nodded and looked away, inhaling deeply to gain control. Castillo was my escort and guard. A friend I was only beginning to know. My bond. I felt certain his path led into something dangerous, and I didn’t know if I could survive another severed bond.

His face darkened. “Echo, while I’m gone, don’t say anything you will regret. Promise me.” He smiled, and the sadness in his eyes went out.

“I cannot make that promise.” I stretched up to find his mouth. If he wouldn’t kiss me, I would kiss him. He let me for only a moment, and then he tucked his chin down, resting his forehead against mine.

#

Lucia found me brooding in the shady courtyard, my knees tucked to my chest and my dress swaying in the slight breeze from the rooftop. I’d promised Castillo I’d stay out of trouble, and the courtyard felt like the safest place to keep such a vow.

“You have a visitor, Echo,” she said. “Shall I show her in?”

I swung my attention to her. “Does she have a name?”

“Mariana, miss. I didn’t ask for a last name. I shall—”

“Sorry, Lucia.” I sighed. “Mariana is fine to come in. Thank you.”

She ducked her head and made a hasty escape. I would need to apologize again. My foul mood over the departure of Castillo should not transfer to my ladies. “Lucia, truly,” I said when she returned with Mariana. “I apologize.”

“No need.” A small smile accompanied her reassurance before she made herself scarce.

Mariana stepped into the courtyard. “So here’s where you have been hiding out.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“I haven’t seen you for over a week.”

I stretched my back and threw a prayer to the skies. “I’ve had other appointments.”