Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (24 page)

He walks to me and reaches into his vest to extract a bag. I know exactly what’s in it.

“I expected you earlier,” I say.

He grunts and guilt swamps me. It did sound a little ungrateful. “Leo was injured,” he says shortly.

“Is he all right,” I ask in apology. Rhone shrugs and leaves with a bow to the king.

I refocus and open the bag carefully, checking the contents with a quick glance. “You say we shouldn’t trust the firsthand witness of the gathered men and women. Though, if we cannot trust the word of so many, what could we trust in?” I say, deliberating. “Perhaps your own good word?” I ask.

“Of course,” he snarls. I smile and draw the papers out of the bag.

“I’m glad you think so,” I say, “because Rhone has been so good to collect this stack of documents for me from the Third Sector. You may recognize them, being as they are all written by you.” I let the heap drop in front of Jovan with a loud smack.

“Instructions to Hale, word received from the whorehounds. Crime after heinous crime, listed in that stack,” I say pointing. “And all of them written by you.”

“How did you get these?” Blaine asks, fury tight in his voice.

“I stole them from your room a long time ago,” I confess.

“You stole—”

“Silence!” roars Jovan, slowly rising from his seat. I step back, not scared to admit his rage terrifies me.

“Betrayal and mutiny of the most disloyal kind. For years, I have been blind to your … depraved acts, and corrupt soul!” Jovan snarls, fists curled tightly. “There is no punishment I can think of for your crimes against the people of Glacium. No word I can think of for how utterly dissolute you are. You hurt my people.” The king moves into the stone ring and stands next to me. “That the Tatuma of our enemy is the only person who saw you for what you were, I’m more ashamed of than I can admit.”

I want to grab his arm and make him stop talking. Any more and the advisors will guess his ignorance of Blaine’s involvement.

He moves to the witnesses. My mouth dries as he bends to one knee in front of them.

“All of you have my sincerest and most humble apologies. Your pain and heartache falls on my shoulders, and it is something I’ll not forget. I will make this right for you,” he vows.

Tears track down my cheeks, hidden behind my veil. I focus on Jovan. Of course he would take the entire blame for what has happened over the last fifteen years.

I don’t have time to scream.

I jerk my head away as the sword swings, feeling the sting as it slices through the flesh above my jaw. The tip of the weapon comes to rest at my throat.

Barely breathing, without moving my head, I look to my right to where Blaine stands at the edge of the sword currently cutting into my throat. I then track the sword held to
Blaine’s
throat to its owner, Jovan. The king, Blaine, and I stand in a deadly triangle. Blaine in the perfect position to kill me, and Jovan in the perfect position to kill Blaine. Who will die first?

My inhale hitches in my throat at the white fury on Jovan’s face. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen him use the large sword always buckled at his side. No one in the meeting room makes a noise. Or maybe they do and I’m too focused on the sharp metal gouging my neck to hear.

“Let me go safely, or I’ll kill the Tatuma,” Blaine hisses, too desperate to be afraid of the king. He should be. His death is looking straight at him through clear blue eyes.

Jovan’s head turns slightly toward me, and then slowly back to Blaine. “Old
friend
,” he says. I shiver at the softness, the finality of his voice. “You will die here today. How you die is up to you,” Jovan says.

“Just like your father, unable to make a decision. Glacium will die under your control.” I see Blaine’s hand tighten and tense in readiness.

I roll away as Jovan strikes without a sound. Blaine’s sword cuts through my veil to the exposed area of my throat.

I grasp the side of my neck, looking back in time to see Blaine’s traitorous head flying through the meeting room. It hits the far wall with a wet thud. His body crumples to the ground in a deadened and bloody heap in front of me.

The king’s roar bounces around the room as Olandon rushes to my side. He touches my hand and holds it up. I see the blood on his shaking hands.

“You are badly hurt,” Olandon asks me.

I have no idea. I’m still standing, aren’t I? The ground underneath makes me realize I’m not. There’s a clatter of a sword behind him and I’m jerked from my brother’s ministrations and clutched in Jovan’s arms.

“Let me see,” he demands, drawing the veil up to my jaw. I hear his intake of breath.

“Nothing serious,” I mutter. “We both know I’d be dead by now. He only got muscle.” It’s just blood loss.

“He got you twice,” he says through clenched teeth, stroking above my jaw where Blaine first got me.

“And you got him once,” I say, nodding to his body on the ground. Someone is vomiting behind me.

Jovan clenches his hands into massive fists and glares above my head. “One death is not enough for that fucking traitor! I could kill him one hundred times and want to kill him a hundred times more.”

There’s something off in Jovan’s words, like even now, he doesn’t believe that to be true. The king checks my throat again to reassure himself and then nods to Olandon.

“Take care of her,” he says to him.

“That wouldn’t have occurred to me without your help,” Olandon answers. I grip my brother’s arm. He doesn’t want to mess with the king of Glacium right now.

“We will break for dinner,” Jovan booms, stalking around the room. “Be prepared to be up through the night. We must strike before Blaine is missed by his network.” He points across the room. “You, Ice. I want you to leave now and find out as much about the weapon caches as you can.” He turns and looks at his advisors, who are still in shocked silence, staring at Blaine’s beheaded form.

“And not a fucking word to anyone or your heads will join his,” he says, jerking his head at Blaine. “Leave!”

Advisors and Outer Rings alike scramble for the doors. Olandon passes me a wad of material and I push it to the side of my neck, as he helps me to my feet. Jovan has his back to us, facing an empty stone wall. I ache to console him, but he clearly wants to be alone. Why else has he turned away? He just executed someone he deemed nearly family, the “last remnant of his father.”

I hope he doesn’t hate me. I hope he understands I had no choice.

I’m lightheaded, though I’m unsure if it’s from blood loss or from my worry about Jovan. Our night together seems long ago and I wish we could be transported back to that moment.

“Lina…” Olandon whispers. His concerned voice brings me back, and I give a heavy sigh at the scene before me.

Jovan standing with his back to me. Blaine’s blood is everywhere.

“You need to have Gerden questioned. I’ll arrange to have him attained so he doesn’t have time to send any messages," I say carefully. "I don’t know how involved he was in the rebellion, but he’s been reinforcing everything coming out of Blaine’s mouth in the last two weeks.”

The king turns and dips his head to indicate he’s heard me, then turns away once again.

“Jovan, I’m … I’m so sorry,” I say, before turning to leave.

* * *

Two days pass and I barely see him, let alone get a chance to talk to him. Yet another meal passes in which the Bruma’s king isn’t present. He hasn’t done this since he heard the news of Kedrick. His people need him to enforce his position at the moment. Though they’re unaware of exactly what has happened, the assembly know something is amiss. The low mood gives me a small insight into how castle life may have been before my arrival here.

I keep wondering if I could’ve made it easier for Jovan. I feel like I have to explain myself. Maybe I should have tried harder to get him to listen to me about Blaine beforehand. Deep down, I know killing the advisor would have hurt just as much either way. I’d do it all over again to make sure he’s safe when I return to Osolis.

I don’t go to any of the council meetings, using my small injuries as an excuse. Really, I’m unsure about the reception I’ll get from the advisors and their leader. Olandon stays with me and Ashawn, and I see their friendship has grown more than I supposed. My barracks friends depart back to the Second Sector. All except Ice and Blizzard, who now have roles within the castle. Ice tried to look upset at the title of king’s spy, but he failed miserably. I expected Alzona to be upset about losing two fighters, but she said she’d struck a deal with the Glacium leader and the loss wouldn’t be a problem. It will be nice to have my barracks friends around.

The watch is a flurry of movement. Ashawn is now my sole guard, while the others help fleece the Outer Rings, emptying any identified weapon caches and, with inside information, flushing out the criminal leaders in the Outer Rings. Hale and a handful of others were now dead. Much of his barracks were captured and thrown into the dungeons for “questioning.” That was one area I was happy to stay away from.

Best of all, Macy is a new woman and Sole a new man. Both look like they’ve lost ten years of age. And Fiona and Sanjay are making up for lost time—something that disgusts my brother during meals; his view from the throne table is unobstructed. I must get him a veil of his own.

The danger is largely gone, but I feel emptier than I can ever remember being.

* * *

It’s the first time I’ve been in the training yard as the Tatuma. How many times have I wanted to abandon my post on the walkway with the other ladies and exchange it for a position down here? I squash the familiar itch to pick up a weapon and break into a long, hard sweat. One day I’ll be able to train with the others. Even if it’s on Osolis instead of here.

The thud of a spear finding its mark echoes through the otherwise empty space.

“Why aren’t you in the food hall with the others?” Jovan says quietly.

I ignore his dismissal. “I just was. Are you eating?” I retort, circling closer to him. My feet want to take me straight to him. I force them to wait.

“I’ll have the servants make me something later.” Another thud rings through the yard.

“A good hit,” I remark softly.

Jovan unleashes a vicious kick at the stand of spears. They fall to the ground in a clatter. My heart beats loudly at the sudden noise.

“I should have bloody listened,” he says tightly, looking away from me. “I’ve been a fucking fool for years and never knew it.”

“Blaine was an accomplished liar.”

“That’s not good enough!” He hefts another spear up and releases it with unbridled strength. I hear a splitting sound from the other end of the courtyard. I frown, contemplating the tension in his massive shoulders.

“You can’t know everything, Jovan. That would be more than any man or woman could do. More than your
father
could have done,” I say. “Don’t put the weight of two worlds on your shoulders. It can crush even the strongest of men.”

His shoulders sag and he lowers the spear he was about to throw.

“And what about the smallest of women?” he asks.

“Them too.” I smile woefully under my veil.

I retreat to the stone stairs and sit on the lowest step, listening to the rhythmic sound of weapon hitting wood. The whisper of his approaching step is one of my favorite sounds. I don’t stir when he sits beside me.

“My pride is the most wounded of all,” he admits, leaning back as he straightens and crosses his legs. “I can’t help wondering, if I wasn't so...” he searches for the word, “damaged after my parents’ deaths, if I would have noticed his mutiny.”

I don’t say anything. All of us have been where he is at some stage. Doubting and picking at details of the past. Mine was not so long ago when Jovan made me realize I was running away from what was right. But I’ve learned not to wear away at the past; I’ve learned to grow wiser from it and move on.

“I want to be strong for my people. I want to be as strong as my father.” He squeezes my hand tightly. “I want to be strong for you,” he says softly. “The hardest thing is realizing Glacium has been balancing on the verge of carnage for most of my rule while I've foolishly thought I had a handle on it. How will I know if it happens again?”

I squeeze his hand before slipping from his grasp. How close are his guards? “Your men and people look up to you. They trust you. And now you have a system in place. You know the signs. Jovan, you are the strongest man I know,” I say. I squeeze my eyes shut. “For what it’s worth, I’m so very sorry.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “I’m sorry the person who betrayed you was someone you held dear. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it easier for you. I feel as though I keep ripping people away from you. First Kedrick and now Blaine.”

He grabs my hand and this time I know I won’t be able to slip away.

“Never apologize for what you did. Glacium owes you a great debt,” he says and looks out across the training yard. “The thing that makes this all worse is you think I don’t trust you. That I wasn’t listening because I had no faith in you. But it wasn’t that,” he says with difficulty.

“I know.” I squeeze his hand. This had been his way of coping, one he hadn’t recognized for what it was: blind denial.