Somehow, she made it back to the comfort of her wing. Waiting only a few steps beyond the heavy wooden doors was Vern, leaning in a deceptively relaxed pose against a wall. His arms were crossed, and a stormy look glinted in his eyes.
Anais walked right past him.
“You cannot go to Nadraken.”
A guard must have found him, probably sent by Jerome while she was speaking to Jerrl. Or one of her father's assassins-in-training was spying on her.
She didn't pause, concentrating on staying upright.
Vern followed closely behind. “Tell me I heard incorrectly. Tell me you do not intend to hand yourself to Nadraken.”
She snarled over her shoulder, “I’m nothandingmyself to anyone. If Yelena wants to play games, I’ll play. I’ll drag her out and open her throat, paint her castle with her blood.”
His steps stuttered. “You'll start a war.”
The scent of roses that Castien loved so much grew stronger. The edges of her sight blurred, and she could have believed he was sitting in the gazebo, waiting for her with a glass of wine.
“Yes. Perhaps. I don't care.”
“Yes, you do. You'll regret– Anais!’
Tilting to the side, she leaned against the door to her chambers. He caught her just as her knees gave out. The world shifted, his arms lifted her, and she sighed against his chest. As he carried her to bed, his tone softened. “You can't travel in your state. You can't fight like this. Rest for a few more days–”
She met his eyes. “Does Castien have a few more days? Do you know where he is right now, if he's been attacked by bandits on the road, if he's even alive? I cannot sit and wait again. I cannot, Vern. I know I'm needed here, but I need him. If war breaks out while I'm gone, so be it. If Satryani finally decides to seize my throne, so be it. I'll deal with it when I return.WithCastien.”
Vern brushed her hair back, dipped a cloth in a basin of water, and wiped her forehead. She closed her eyes. Behind each slow, careful stroke was a whisper of frustration that she didn't need to see to know existed. Her mother had risked herself more frequently leading skirmishes on their borders. Anais couldn't imagine him scolding Jana.
As the soft sheets threatened to pull her under, the cloth lifted away for a final time. “You've never acted so rashly before.”
The drop of disappointment and scolding only hardened her resolve. “Perhaps I never cared enough before. Perhaps I should've always acted faster. I didn't go chasing after Castienpreviously because we weren't ready for a war. We are now. We didn't know where he was being held. We have a map of the castle now. Is it so rash, Father?”
He handed her a cup of water. The cool liquid flowed down her throat and relaxed her a fraction. Vern wouldn't agree with her, and some part of her knew he was right. But she wasn't going to change her mind either.
As she handed back the cup, she caught his arm. “Satryani knows. She accused Castien of being soft, and I… There was no point in lying anymore. While I'm gone, make sure she–”
“I’m going with you.”
Anais blinked. Releasing his arm, she called on a ghost of her cold mask, as much as she could manage at the moment. “No, Steward, you are needed here. Duchess Satryani cannot be allowed to spread rumors against us. There is still a core of dissent amongst the rebel recruits. And if any of the other nations act, I need you here.”
His fingers curled around the sharp edges of her claws, clenching tightly just shy of piercing flesh. Matching her tone, he said, “I know where I am needed, Anais.”
She shut her mouth. To her steward, she would issue a command. To her father, she nodded. Grudgingly. Ordering him to stay would be pointless. He would simply sneak along, riding at night and in the shadows if he had to. A waste of energy. His skills would be useful at her side.
“Thank you, Father.”
Someone else would have to watch the court.
Chapter 14
Anais
The faint echo of screams jolted her into consciousness. Cold sweat clung to the back of her nightgown, and her heart raced in her chest.
Outside her window, a bird chirped. She sat up at the piercing cry. It was just a bird. Just a bird.
The sky was beginning to lighten. Anais peeled off the overwarm bed sheets. Other than lingering hallucinations and some weakness in her muscles, she felt normal. Hungry. Starving, actually. Nausea hadn't let her eat much yesterday.
She drank a glass of water, then tossed on a robe. Madeline must have removed her dress last night. A wisp of regret blew away on the winds of necessity. The Queen would command her captain to take a few days off when they returned.
