Read Promising Hope Online

Authors: Emily Ann Ward

Tags: #fantasy, #young adult, #epic fantasy, #fantasy romance, #high fantasy, #ya fantasy, #young adult fantasy, #emily ann ward, #the protectors

Promising Hope (40 page)

Back in their bedroom, Sierra shut the door. Evan
went to his bundle of things at the foot of the bed to gather his
pack together.

“Wait,” she said softly.

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

“You don’t need to be there for about an hour,
right?” she asked.

“Well, no, that’s how much time we gave the other
men,” Evan said. He smiled as she closed the distance between them.
“Why?”

She looped her arms around his neck. “I think we
should take advantage of that time.”

He bent down and kissed her softly on the lips. The
kiss deepened after a moment, and he enveloped her into his arms.
She stepped back, keeping their mouths together, and pulled him
back towards the bed. He eased her down onto the mattress and
grinned down at her.

There were so many things she could worry about as
they went their separate ways yet again, but she wouldn’t think
about them now. She pulled him close again, wrapping her legs
around his waist and reveling the feel of his strong, solid body
against hers. His hands found her hair and his lips her mouth, and
they used every last minute they had together.

 

* * *

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Sashe knocked softly on the doors that led to the
king’s chambers. The door opened, and Thomas’ main servant, Robert,
smiled at her. “Lady Sashe,” he said. “His Majesty didn’t want you
to fall ill visiting him.”

Sashe waved a hand. “I’ll keep my distance, but I’d
like to see him.” She’d hardly seen him yesterday, since she’d
stayed in her chambers after crying over Seth, but Robert had let
her know he was ill. Yet he hadn’t arrived for breakfast today,
either, and she worried since he rarely got sick.

Robert inclined his head and stepped back to allow
Sashe to walk past him. The king’s chambers were massive, made up
of nearly a dozen rooms. When she first moved to the castle, she
felt so nervous in his chambers, so unsure of herself. Over time,
though, it became like her second bedroom. She knew her way in the
dark. The king’s cologne and the musty aroma of sage were familiar
to her.

Frescoes along the ceiling told stories of the
history of Haltar, and pillars stood on either side of her in the
entry room. The more formal sitting room was full of red velvet
furniture, mirrors, and a grand piano.

Robert led her to the parlor just outside of his
bedroom chambers. This parlor was smaller and more intimate.
Thomas’ favorite drinks and books took up the shelves along the
walls, and the view outside the window was of the small pond on the
east side of the castle. The queen sat in one of the armchairs
reading a book as Prince William paced back and forth.

Robert announced her presence. Queen Kate nodded to
her. William hardly acknowledged her or Ronu, and Sashe’s teeth
ground together as she remembered what Grace had told her about
William’s threat.

“How is His Majesty?” Sashe asked.

“He’s sleeping right now,” William said.

“Is he feeling better?”

William glanced at Robert, who shook his head and
answered, “I don’t believe so, Lady Sashe. He’s…” He cleared his
throat. “Excuse me, m’lady, but he’s vomited quite a bit. His body
won’t keep food down.”

“Where’s Kris?” Sashe asked. He’d been working for
Tisha and Kilar for months and had recently come to live in the
castle, though he didn’t socialize much. Sashe was all right with
that. He was quite a creepy fellow, even if he had been the one to
heal Dar in Mumbar Jungle.

“Out of town,” William said shortly.

“Have you called for another Thieran?” Sashe asked
William.

“Of course. I sent Henry into town a few hours ago.”
William sighed. “He should have returned by now.”

A knock sounded on the door. Robert left and a moment
later returned and announced Lady Grace. She curtsied to the queen
and to William, her face a calm mask as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Is His Majesty feeling well?” she asked.

“No,” Sashe said with a frown. “He’s still ill. He’s
sleeping now, but a Thieran is on his way.” She turned to Robert.
“May I go in and see him?”

Robert frowned. “Are you sure, Lady Sashe? No one
wants you to get sick.”

“I’ll just be a moment.”

Robert nodded and escorted her to the bedroom doors.
It took a long time for her to get used to him escorting her
everywhere, opening each door, announcing her to others. Ronu
followed her into Thomas’ chambers.

Thomas had a massive canopy bed in the middle of the
room. The curtains of the windows were drawn, blocking out all the
light but for a few lamps. A faint smell of sickness hovered in the
air. Thomas slept in the bed, his large frame silent and still.

Robert left and closed the door, leaving Sashe, Ronu
and Thomas. For some reason Sashe’s face warmed at Ronu’s presence.
She only came in here to pleasure the king, and Ronu must know it.
Well, why should it embarrass her around him? Everyone knew what
she did for and with the king.

She stepped forward and approached the bedside.
Thomas let out a snort as she sat down at the edge of his bed. She
half-smiled. She occasionally slept at the king’s side, but his
random snorts throughout the night often woke her up. At least he
didn’t snore nonstop like Alastor. She and Sierra used to make fun
of him since they could hear him sleeping from any floor of the
manor.

She folded her hands in her lap. The candlelight
flickered on Thomas’ pale face, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
She wanted to touch him but she was afraid of becoming ill herself.
Instead, she touched her womb softly and glanced down at the small
bump forming under her dress. The seamstress had to make her new
dresses. The next ones would be too large around the middle so she
could still wear them for the next couple months.

A sudden ache for Seth filled her, and she wished he
could be filled with the same joy she had at the life inside her.
She wished it was his instead of the man lying in front of her. A
man who, though one who had affection for her and had watched after
her, had never loved her like Seth did.

She shook her head, banishing the thoughts. After her
crying fit yesterday she’d tried to avoid any thought of Seth. She
couldn’t change the past. She could only give her child a good
future, even if he or she didn’t have Seth for a father.

“Thomas,” Sashe whispered. She licked her lips.
“You’ll feel better soon. You’ll be right as rain tomorrow. Jeshro
already wants to meet about the royal edict. He’s probably
suspicious.” She twirled her bracelet around her wrist. “I might be
too after ten years of this. But you did the right thing. I’m proud
of you.”

She was. After a year of nudging him, of telling him
stories of how good certain Avialies had been to her, of letting
him know exactly how she felt about Tisha and Kilar and the curse,
finally he’d done something. Anywhere else she may be afraid of
them, but here in his chambers, he assured her that no one would
know what she said. No one would get her in trouble. Even when
Jared and Wendy were here, his chambers were safe from their prying
eyes.

She wasn’t the only one unafraid to be open, either.
Thomas shared his struggles with her, his trust in Tisha but his
reluctance in pursuing this war with the Avialies. He spoke of his
respect for Alastor, Natalia, and Dar. And finally he was unafraid
of setting Tisha’s wishes aside. He was a good king, but he relied
too much on the advice of others. He was afraid to make mistakes,
so he sought the counsel of others, confusing himself with their
opinions instead of doing what he knew was right.

She sat in silence for a few moments, unsure if she
should speak to him even though he was asleep. She should probably
go, but for some reason, his heavy breathing was fairly comforting
to her.

The door opened, and Sashe glanced over her shoulder.
Robert announced William, Kilar, and a servant who carried a bowl
of water and a cloth. Sashe stood in the prince’s presence and
curtsied yet again. Damn the royal traditions. He didn’t deserve
her respect.

Sashe looked through the open door before Robert
closed it. “Henry hasn’t returned?” she asked.

“No,” William said flatly.

The servant approached the king and softly wiped his
forehead. Thomas stirred, coughing. He opened his eyes and looked
around at them. “Oh, Sashe,” he said once he saw her. “You
shouldn’t be here. I’ll make you and the child ill.”

Sashe shook her head, smiling. “I wanted to see you,
but don’t worry, I’ll leave soon.”

Thomas looked at Ronu. “You’ve been taking care of
her, yes?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ronu said, inclining his
head.

“Good. If another person harms her, he will die at
your hand, begging for mercy.”

Sashe half-smiled, tempted to look at William but
forcing her gaze to remain on Thomas.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ronu said.

Thomas looked at William and Kilar. “Tell Robert to
bring me my scribe.”

The servant stepped around William to the door and
called Robert. William took Sashe’s former seat. Sashe took a few
steps back and stumbled when she stepped on Ronu’s foot. He
steadied her, and she smiled up at him as they moved to the foot of
the bed.

“Father, why do you need your scribe?” William
asked.

“I need to respond to Jeshro’s—” An attack of
coughing interrupted his words, and he doubled over on his bed as
he coughed violently. Sashe wrung her hands in front of her.

“Fetch him some water,” William ordered the
servant.

The man rushed to the king’s side with a goblet of
water. Thomas took a swallow, but then coughed it up, spraying
water on the bed and the servant. When the coughs finally subsided,
he lay back in his bed, panting.

“Water, Your Majesty?” the servant asked.

Thomas drank a bit more.

Sashe frowned, looking at William. “Where is
Henry?”

“I told you I don’t know,” William snapped.

Sashe gritted her teeth, glaring at the wall instead
of the prince.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a cold,” Thomas said, his
voice sounding weak from the coughs.

“You can’t keep your food in your stomach, either,”
Sashe said. “That’s more than a cold.”

Thomas waved his hand as he closed his eyes.

“Yes, you should rest more,” Sashe said, approaching
the foot of the bed and touching his foot, which was covered by
blankets. “I can tell your scribe to come later.”

“No, it will only take a moment.” Thomas met her
eyes. “I must tell Jeshro this edict is genuine. I want to meet
with him as soon as I can.”

Her heart swelled as she thought of the Avialies
coming back home. She smiled. “Yes, of course. Once you’re well
again.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Robert announced the
entry of the scribe and Henry. Sashe stepped forward. “Did you
bring a Thieran?” she asked Henry as soon as the door was shut.

Henry bowed to both the king and the prince, then
turned back to Sashe, turning his hat over in his hands. “No,
m’lady,” he said. “Joyce is traveling, and the other Thierans in
town are… also gone. James has moved to Aron; Perrin’s house was
completely empty; and Valia was also traveling. I asked as many
people as I could, but there are no Thierans in Renaul.”

Sashe stared at him, her eyes widening in awe. Joyce
or Kris were the Thierans usually called to the castle when they
were ill. Sashe had paid Joyce to heal Evan after he had come to
the castle covered in bruises, cuts, scars, and other signs of
torture. She hadn’t trusted Kris, wouldn’t trust him with a rock.
No Thierans in all of Renaul?

William stood. “That’s preposterous. There must be a
Thieran somewhere in town.”

“Your Highness, I searched everywhere, that’s why
I’ve been gone so long—” Henry said, nearly tripping over his
words.

“Go back,” William ordered. “Find that Mahri Clyde,
he knows the magical families in town. Don’t come back until you
have a Thieran. The king is sick and he will be well again.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Henry said, bowing as he backed
away.

Thomas shook his head as Henry left. “Honestly, this
is just a…” His voice faltered, and he closed his eyes. “Oh, dear…
Victor, a bowl—”

The servant shoved a bowl into Thomas’ hand as Thomas
swung his legs out over the side of the bed. He bent over and threw
up in the silver bowl.

Sashe put her hand over her mouth, averting her eyes.
The smell in the air made her cover her nose, and she backed away,
towards the door. “I’ll get more servants,” she said quietly.

She left the room, fighting down her own vomit. Since
she’d become pregnant, smells affected her much more than they used
to. Old foods, strong smells in the market—most of them made her
sick. She came into the parlor. “Robert, the king needs more
servants. He’s throwing up again.”

Robert pointed to a maidservant who was pouring wine
for Grace. The woman left her pitcher and walked into the king’s
chambers. Sashe felt insensitive for fleeing so quickly, but she
also knew Thomas’ pride would be wounded if she saw him in such a
state.

She sat next to Grace, weakly smiling at her while
her mind worked. How could every Thieran in Renaul, all four of
them, be occupied? Occasionally, Joyce would travel or be busy, but
it was easy to find another to come and help. Yet when the king was
ill, when he needed attention, all four of them were gone. It
almost seemed…

Sashe licked her kips and looked at the door of the
king’s chambers as Robert went in with one more servant. Would
someone intentionally harm the king? Was this a natural sickness or
something more nefarious?

“Henry didn’t have a Thieran with him,” Grace said,
her expression questioning.

“No, he couldn’t find one,” Sashe said.

“Where are Kris and Joyce?” Queen Kate asked.

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