Authors: Jennifer A. Nielsen
O
nce I’m named as king, I’ll ask Conner not to kill either of you,” Roden said as we lay on our beds that night. “Maybe I can get him to exile you to another country or something and make you promise not to return.”
“By the time you’ve had the chance to talk with him, Cregan will already have carried out his orders,” Tobias said. “He’ll be quick with me, but what about Sage?”
He’d be anything but quick with me. Cregan had made that clear.
I arose from my bed and pressed open the secret door. “Where are you going?” Roden asked.
“If you’re running away, let me come,” Tobias said.
“I’m not running away and it’s none of your business where I’m going,” I snapped. “But I won’t lie here while we all talk about our deaths.”
Roden was still awake when I came back sometime later. He was sitting up in bed, staring forward but seeing little. “Why didn’t you run?” he asked. His tone was flat and lifeless. “You had your chance.”
I pulled off my boots and sat on my bed. My fingers found a garlin in my pocket, which I ran over my knuckles. “You think Conner’s going to have Tobias and me killed in the morning?”
Softly, Roden said, “It’s not personal, Sage, but I’ve decided not to ask him to save you two.”
Not a big surprise, but I still asked him why.
Finally, he looked at me. Deep creases lined his forehead. “You know my answer. You and Tobias are threats to me now. There’s only one way to guarantee you’ll never come back to expose me.”
“We’re also the only protection you have from Conner.”
Roden finger-combed his hair off his face, then leaned against the wall. “I’ll have to deal with that eventually, but until then, I’ve got to do what’s in my own best interest, and Carthya’s best interest. I hope you two will forgive me.”
I flipped the garlin at him before I lay on my bed. “There’s your alm of forgiveness, Roden. Pay it to the gods or devils, or to Conner, whatever altar you bow to. But don’t ask it from me.”
Errol and the other two servants awoke us shortly before dawn. It was clear as we looked at one another that none of us had slept well, but the bags under Roden’s eyes were so dark I wondered if he’d slept at all.
Particular care was taken with Roden’s bath and dressing that morning, requiring all three servants to help. Tobias and I were left mostly to ourselves, other than Errol briefly slipping away from Roden’s care to check my back.
“In another day or two, you can remove those bandages,” he said.
“I’ll be as healthy as any other dead man,” I said lightly.
Errol frowned and lowered his eyes. Obviously, he didn’t think my impending death was very funny.
Once we were ready, Errol pronounced me as similar to Prince Jaron in appearance as he’d seen the night before, but then loudly told Roden that he also had many features that reminded him of the prince.
Looking at Roden, I hoped he planned on eating only a little. He didn’t appear to be in a state to handle a full stomach.
Mott came to collect Roden for breakfast. “You understand that the master may wish to reserve some conversations for himself and the prince alone,” he said to Tobias and me. “Your breakfast will be served in here, and I will come for you later to say your good-byes.”
“We’re tired of eating in here,” I complained, but Mott only frowned at me as he led Roden out of the room.
When the door shut, Tobias went to the window. “You can get us out of here, right? It’s time to run.”
“Run to where?” I asked. “Where would you go?”
“You could take us back to Avenia. We could hide there.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the garlin that I’d tossed to Roden last night. It had been left on the floor beside his bed. A day ago, he wouldn’t have been so casual about leaving behind any amount of money, but he was Conner’s prince now. Money was the least of his concerns.
I picked up the garlin, rolled it over my knuckles, then deposited it in my pocket. Tobias had retreated to his bed, defeated. I sat beside him and said, “We’re not running away and this isn’t over yet. When I said I wouldn’t let Conner kill you, I meant it.”
Tobias gave a halfhearted smile. “Thanks for that, Sage, but at this point, you should start worrying about your own neck.”
Breakfast arrived soon after. I was as hungry as always, but Tobias barely ate a bite. Mott returned for us before I’d gotten too far into his meal.
“What’s going to happen to Sage and me now?” Tobias asked.
“The master has given no orders,” Mott said.
“Maybe not to you,” I said. “Where’s Cregan?”
Mott’s face darkened. “Why didn’t you tell Conner you’d lie for him, Sage? He stood right here and said he’d make you his prince. All you had to do was say you would lie.”
I set my jaw forward, but said nothing. Even if I were inclined to explain myself, which I wasn’t, I had no answer to give him.
Finally, Mott waved us to our feet. “It’s too late to go back now anyway. Come with me and bid the prince and the master farewell.”
We followed him into the entrance hall. Roden looked pale and terrified. I leaned against the wall and withdrew the garlin from my pocket and began rolling it over my knuckles. It was a nervous habit, and I admit that I felt a little nervous.
Tobias tried a different tactic. He fell on his knees before Conner, begging mercy.
“Please don’t have us killed,” he said. “Please, sir. Give me your word that we can leave here safely.”
“You ask for the word of a liar?” I asked. “Would you feel any better if Conner did promise us our lives?”
Tobias shrank even lower, but Conner stared at me, frozen. “What is that trick you’re doing?” he asked.
The knuckle roll came so automatically to me that it barely required my attention. “Sir?”
Conner’s hand flew to his mouth. “How can I have been so foolish? The devils must be laughing, for I nearly ruined everything!”
R
oden opened his mouth to speak, but Conner hushed him and walked over to me, never taking his eyes off the coin in my hand. “Where did you learn to do that?”
I shrugged. “Any pickpocket can do it.” To demonstrate, I dropped the coin in Conner’s coat pocket. With my thumb and forefinger I withdrew the coin, then rolled it over my knuckles and into my palm. “It’s a good way to steal a coin because you can sneak it away without having to make a fist.”
Conner turned to Roden. “Can you do it?”
Roden shook his head. Tobias also shook his head before he could be asked.
“I notice you do that with your left hand,” Conner said. “Just as you prefer to use a fork or write your letters. Can you do it with your right?”
I tossed the coin to my right hand and demonstrated the knuckle roll with equal agility.
“And can you write and eat with the right hand as well?”
“When I was young, my father insisted I learn to use my right hand for everything. He didn’t want me to appear different in that way. I was out of practice before but have remembered that habit since coming here.”
Conner walked toward his office. “Sage, I will speak with you in private.”
It was an order, not a request, and I followed him into his office, where he shut the door behind me.
“You don’t have to lie for the rest of your life.” There was a desperation in Conner’s eyes I’d never seen before. “There is another way.”
“Oh?”
“Claim the throne now as Prince Jaron. Be him for a year or two, any respectable length of time. Then assign the throne to anyone you want. You may leave and return to a private life, albeit one of wealth and luxury.”
“What are you asking, sir?” I knew, but I wanted to make him say it.
“Be the prince, Sage. I’m convinced now that it can only be you.”
“What about Roden?”
“Prince Jaron was famous for his ability to roll a coin over his knuckles. As I’ve rehearsed this plan in my mind, I anticipated everything the regents might ask in accepting or rejecting you. I considered qualities of his personality and what might remain in his character as he grew and changed. Jaron was trained throughout his childhood in the royal tradition, so my choice would have to display some semblance of that training as well. But until I saw you there, I forgot that this coin roll was an occasional habit of his, a parlor trick, but one few others could do as well. Sooner or later, the regents would expect to see the prince do that.”
I sat down in one of the chairs and crossed one leg over the other. “Roden can be taught to do it.”
“Not in time, and not as well as that. He’d look like he’d just been taught. Sage, you must be the prince.”
I didn’t answer right away, admittedly partially because I knew how desperate Conner was for my response. Finally, I looked back at him. “No.”
Conner exploded. “What? Has this all been a game to you? Just a test to see if you could get this far and then reject me?”
“No, sir. But I got to thinking last night while we were in the tunnels. Veldergrath’s men would have killed me if they’d found me, right? Somebody did kill the king and queen and Prince Darius. They’ll kill me too, eventually. I don’t want power or wealth, Conner. I want to stay alive.”
“Veldergrath won’t dare harm you once you’re seated on the throne. If the high chamberlain, Lord Kerwyn, accepts you as Prince Jaron, then Veldergrath will too. As for the royal family, you don’t have to worry about the same threat.”
“Why not?”
“They were killed for political reasons. If you use different politics, there will be no motive.”
My eyes narrowed. “How do you know that, Conner? Do you know who killed them?”
“Is that an accusation?” he boomed, then lowered his voice, struggling to keep his temper. “Regardless of who killed them, I know who their enemies were and they’re no threat to you. I can guarantee your safety on the throne, Sage. And I’ll guarantee your death here if you refuse me.”
“You won’t kill me,” I said. “I’m the only hope for your plan to succeed. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Conner sat in the other chair facing his desk, his eyes pleading with me to accept his offer. “Sage, no harm will come to you upon that throne, and you can reign only for as long as you want to.”
“Then I can hand the throne over to you.”
Conner’s face reddened and he stood, yelling again. “Hand the throne to anyone you choose, just make it to someone you trust. I am not a villain in this story, no matter how many times you’ve attempted to frame me that way!”
“Are you a hero, then?”
“I’m just a man trying to do what I think is best for my country. If I’ve made mistakes along the way, they were made out of a desire to do the right thing.”
“I have terms,” I said.
“You’re insufferable,” Conner said. “Have you waited for this moment since we met? To force me into a situation where I must give in to your whims or else see everything I’ve worked for all this time go to waste?”
“Tobias and Roden must accompany us to the castle.”
“Why?”
“I promised that if you chose me, I wouldn’t allow you to kill them. It’s the only way I’ll be able to keep that promise.”
“It’s a foolish idea. They’re a threat to you now.”
“If you had left with Roden just now, Tobias and I were going to be killed, correct?”
Conner waved a hand in the air. “I can’t deny that, nor will I apologize for it. The two boys not chosen know everything. They can use that knowledge to blackmail you, harass you, and intimidate you for the rest of your life. Information is a dangerous thing in the wrong hands, Sage. As of this moment,
they
are the greatest threat to you.”
“But I will decide how to manage that threat. There’s more. Imogen will come to Drylliad as well.”
“Fool boy! May I remind you of the betrothed princess Amarinda? Imogen has no future connected with you.”
“Once I’m made prince, I’ll pay off her debt to you, then set her free. Either all of them come with us, or I don’t.”
Conner cursed, then grabbed a small marble statue off his desk and threw it at me. It whisked past my shoulder, hit the far wall of his office, and cracked the wood paneling. He probably intended to miss, but maybe not. “You are not the king yet!” he growled. “I’ll bring them with us, only to get your stubborn head into the carriage with me. But until you are crowned, I am the master, and if I see a need to dispose of them, I will.”
“Fair enough,” I said, then a mischievous grin snuck onto my face. “So do you want to bow to me now or wait until we reach Drylliad?”
Conner brushed past me and into the entrance hall. He shouted orders for a carriage to be prepared for seven travelers. Cregan would now be our driver.
“Hail His Majesty, the scourge of my life,” Conner said to Roden and Tobias as he stomped up the stairs. “I fear the devils no longer, because I have the worst of them right here in my home!”