King Breaker (89 page)

‘As do you.’

He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I fear we are both fools, but I think we can be happy together.’

And strangely enough, she thought he was right.

Chapter Seventy-Two

B
YREN FOLLOWED
O
RRADE
up the steps to Eagle Tower. It was his wedding day, and he’d never felt less like getting married.

In the six days since Byren had returned to his father’s castle, it seemed everyone in Rolencia had tried to speak with him—some wanted to complain, some wanted justice and others wanted to convince him that they had remained loyal even though they had accepted lands and titles from Cobalt.

He was heartily sick of it all.

And very relieved to have Orrade back. Not that he’d been able to snatch a moment with him in private. After reclaiming his estate, the new Lord Dovecote had returned late last night. As far as Byren knew, Orrade was still angry with him. He needed to make things right between them.

‘We could have met in the war-table chamber and saved the climb,’ Byren said.

‘I remember the days you’d race Lence...’ Orrade hesitated. They’d reached the ladder to the tower top. ‘I asked about him and Elina but the fire stones burned so fiercely their bodies were never recovered. I’ve ordered the stone-mason to carve a statue of Elina with a fire stone in each hand to commemorate her bravery.’

His voice broke and Byren wanted to hug him, but he stood helplessly by while Orrade regained control.

‘We were so young...’ Byren shook his head. ‘If I could go back and—’

‘We don’t get to go back,’ Orrade said, voice brittle. ‘We make the best decisions we can with the knowledge we have to hand. I want you to remember this, when...’ He glanced up.

Byren frowned. ‘Who’s waiting for me?’

‘Siordun, representing Fyn.’

The mage’s agent had arrived with Piro two days ago, but Byren had put off a private meeting, because he knew what Siordun wanted and he was just too angry with Fyn to be polite. For once, his sister had showed remarkable restraint and had not broached the subject. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d think Piro was avoiding him.

With a grimace, Byren climbed the ladder to find the tall, thin agent waiting. ‘If you’re here on behalf of my lying, conniving brother—’

‘Hear me out,’ Siordun said. ‘If Fyn hadn’t rescued Queen Isolt, she would have been forced to marry Neiron and you would have lost Merofynia. The storm would have still decimated your fleet and stripped you of two-thirds of your army, and you would have been forced to ally yourself with the Snow Bridge king anyway.’

‘You’ve been talking to Orrie.’

Siordun nodded. ‘On the other hand, if Fyn had rescued Isolt and returned her to the palace, the storm would have happened anyway and you would have been forced to either break your word to Isolt to ally yourself with King Jorgoskev, or you would have lost to Cobalt, because the abbess betrayed your plans and you needed the Snow Bridge warriors.’

Much as he would have liked to argue, Byren could not fault the logic.

Siordun squared his shoulders. ‘Queen Isolt and King Fyn asked—’

‘King Fyn!’ Byren muttered. ‘That should be King Merofyn the Seventh.’

‘He’s still your brother,’ Siordun said.

Byren hardened his heart. ‘Whatever you say, the fact remains that I left Fyn to take care of my betrothed and her kingdom, and he married her behind my back. Don’t try and make out that he did me a favour.’

‘I won’t,’ the agent said. ‘Fyn is well aware that he has wronged you. He asked me to tell you that he loves Isolt with all his heart—’

Byren laughed bitterly. ‘Kings don’t get to marry for love.’

Siordun ignored this. ‘And Fyn hopes that, given time, you can forgive him. Both he and the queen want peace between Merofynia and Rolencia. He sent this as a token of his true regard.’

Byren accepted the velvet draw-string bag with a certain amount of contempt. No matter how much these trinkets were worth, they meant nothing to him. He loosened the drawstring and tipped the bag’s contents into his hand. The lincurium rings and pendant sat on his palm like three drops of frozen fire.

Orrade gasped.

‘I thought them lost,’ Byren whispered, as he was transported back to last winter, to the day they found the stones. ‘Do you remember, Orrie? ’

‘How could I forget? You saved my life,’ Orrade said, emotion making his voice waver. ‘You had the rings made for your parents, and you had the pendant made for Lence to give to his queen.’

Byren stared into the fiery depths of the lincurium stones. So much had happened since that day.

‘Can I tell Fyn he is forgiven?’ Siordun asked.

Byren tipped the stones and rings into the bag. ‘You can tell him I want peace.’

P
IRO LOOKED UP
as Byren strode into their mother’s solarium—only the chamber now belonged to the Snow Bridge kingsdaughter. Surprised by Byren’s arrival, Skevlaza said something that sounded like a protest.

Byren glanced to Florin, who translated, ‘The kingsdaughter says according to Snow Bridge customs it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.’

Byren went down on one knee. ‘Tell my wife-to-be that it is our custom for the groom to give the bride a wedding gift.’ He removed a small pouch from his vest and offered it to the kingsdaughter.

Since arriving in Rolenhold, Piro had tried to be friendly to the Snow Bridge woman, but without a common language it was hard. And even after Florin arrived, Skevlaza did not have much to say. Piro was burning to ask Florin how she’d ended up Lady Dovecote, when it was clear she loved Byren and he loved her. But Piro was no longer the headstrong child who blurted out her every thought.

‘Open it, Skevlaza,’ Piro urged.

The woman loosened the drawstring and tipped a large lincurium pendant into her hand. It sat on her palm, exquisite and rare, yet she did not react. Piro did not understand.

‘Let me...’ Byren took the pendant from Skevlaza and hung it around her neck. On his knees he was almost as tall as her. He glanced to Florin. ‘Please tell her, this is a rare Affinity beast stone.’

Florin began to translate, but Skevlaza cut her off.

‘She thanks you and asks who it was made for.’

‘Tell her I found the stone myself and had it made for my twin on his betrothal.’

As Florin translated, Skevlaza flushed and said something.

‘She apologises. She does not have a gift for you,’ Florin said.

‘Tell her it does not matter.’

It was all very proper, yet all strangely hollow. Piro felt sad, for there was no joy in Skevlaza or Byren.

He came to his feet and turned to Piro. ‘A word with you, sister.’

B
YREN LED
P
IRO
out of the solarium and down the corridor to what had been her old bedchamber. When they entered, he saw her travelling chest sat open by the bed. ‘You haven’t unpacked.’

‘I’m not staying.’

‘This is your home. You—’

‘I don’t want to be a kingsdaughter. I—’

‘Don’t be childish. Piro. We’re royalty, we don’t get to choose who we marry.’ Unless you were Fyn and were willing to ignore your duty. Anger made Byren’s voice hard. ‘Now, I’ve had an offer of alliance from House Merullus of Ostron Isle. The comtes is—’

‘I’m not marrying him. I’m not marrying anyone!’

‘Of course you’ll marry,’ Byren snapped, exasperated.

‘I can’t. I have Affinity. If I stayed in Rolencia I’d have to serve Sylion Abbey.’

‘I’m going to repeal Father’s laws. It was unfair and—’

‘I won’t—’

‘I suppose you consider yourself in love with someone unsuitable.’ A spasm of anger rocked Byren. ‘Get over it. You’re a kingsdaughter and you’ll—’

‘Why are you being so hateful?’ Piro backed away, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Remorse made Byren reach out to her. ‘Piro...’

‘No.’ She darted past him and flung the door open to reveal Siordun about to knock. ‘You knew about this? How could you?’

She ducked around the mage’s agent and Byren heard her footsteps as she ran down the passage.

Siordun sent Byren a questioning look.

‘I’ve had an offer of marriage from House Merullus.’

Siordun came in and shut the door. ‘Piro can’t marry. She’s bonded with her foenix.’

‘So? He always was her pet, and now that I’ve defeated Cobalt, I don’t need the foenix by my side. From what I hear Ostron Isle’s merchant families cultivate eccentricity,’ Byren said, but Siordun’s expression was serious. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

‘This kind of bond is not like the bond a man has with his hunting dog. It’s much deeper. Piro’s Affinity is still growing in strength. I suspect she takes after your namesake, King Byren the Fourth. He...’ Siordun ran down.

‘I’ve heard the rumours. He could commune with Affinity beasts.’ Byren was not about to reveal that he could commune with the ulfr pack. ‘They called him Mad King Byren.’

‘Then you realise she can never live a normal life.’

He hadn’t. ‘Poor little Piro.’ No wonder she’d been distraught. Anger stirred in him. ‘The mage should have warned us.’

‘The mage...’ Siordun shook his head. ‘...has been busy trying to avert war on two fronts. I’ve only put the clues together since spring. I’ll take her back to Mage Isle with me. The foenix will come with us.’

‘Of course.’ Byren felt bereft. His parents were dead. Lence was dead. Fyn had turned on him and now he’d lost little Piro.

Siordun put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I promise I will do the very best I can for Piro.’

Unable to speak, Byren nodded and left.

O
N RETURNING TO
his chamber, Byren found his wedding clothes laid out on the bed. He couldn’t bear to look at them. Instead he went out onto the balcony to clear his head. From up here he could see the preparations for the wedding ceremony, far below in Rolenton Square. His parents had been married there, just over twenty-one years ago. His father’s peaceful, prosperous reign was remembered with nostalgia.

Byren tipped the lincurium rings onto his palm. The matching rings had originally been a gift for his parents on their wedding anniversary, to symbolise enduring love and loyalty. Now... when he put the ring on the Snow Bridge woman’s finger, it would symbolise his servitude to a crown he’d never wanted.

He’d never wanted to be king, particularly a king with a wife foisted on him by his enemy, a king with no family left that he could trust to place his kingdom’s needs ahead of their own.

He heard the door open and Orrade came to the balcony door. ‘It’s time.’

‘I know.’

‘Your mother was only fifteen when she—’

‘Married my father. Yet they grew to love each other. I know my duty, Orrie. I will stand by Skevlaza.’

‘Then what is it?’

Byren hated feeling estranged from his one true friend. Lence had turned on him, Fyn had betrayed him. Piro would soon leave him. Florin... He had done wrong by his mountain girl, despite the best of intentions. If Orrie hadn’t come to her rescue...

Orrade had remained true, even after everything that had happened. Byren reached into his pocket. ‘Come here and hold out your hand.’

‘Why?’ Orrade did not move.

‘Just do it. We’re not ten and I don’t have a toad in my pocket.’

‘Very well.’ A half smile lifted Orrade’s lips. He stepped out onto the balcony. ‘But I’m not closing my eyes.’

Byren dropped the smaller of the lincurium rings onto Orrade’s palm. ‘You may have to get it resized.’

‘Byren, no. This—’

‘You were with me when I found the stones. You were with me every step of the way since. If it were not for you, I would not have defeated Cobalt and reclaimed my father’s throne. You are my one true friend.’

Orrade held the ring up to the light. The stone glinted like captured fire. ‘I should refuse.’

‘But you won’t.’ Byren slid the other ring onto his finger. ‘You’ll wear it with honour.’

‘What if someone asks why we—’

‘Tell them...’ Byren bared his teeth in a grin. ‘Tell them to ask me, if they dare.’

Orrade laughed, and Byren felt ready to face the future.

THE
KING ROLEN’S KIN
TRILOGY BOX SET:

The King's Bastard
,
The Uncrowned King
, and
The Usurper

Now collected in a single ebook!

Only seven minutes younger than Rolencia’s heir, Byren has never hungered for the throne; he laughs when a seer predicts that he will kill his twin. But the royal heir resents Byren’s growing popularity. Across the land the untamed magic of the gods wells up out of the earth’s heart, sending exotic creatures to stalk the wintry nights and twisting men’s minds, granting them terrible visions. Those so touched are sent to the Abbey, to learn to control their gift, or die.

At King Rolen’s court, enemies plot to take his throne, even as secrets within his own household threaten to tear his family apart.