Promising Hope (42 page)

“Father, I don’t want to stay here, but I have
nothing over the prince. He can take away everything I care about,
and I can’t touch anything of his.” Her legs suddenly felt weak,
and she sat down again. “If I leave, he can hurt Sashe or you or
Mother or—”

“I won’t let him do that.”

“Fine, but then he can hurt the Avialies. He can let
the Protectors do whatever they want. I have no power over him
whatsoever.”

“Grace, you probably have more power over him than
anyone.” Father’s voice softened as he sat down next to her. “If
he’s really willing to kill Sashe and your mother to keep you here,
that means he’s willing to risk his two biggest allies for you. If
he’s really willing to hurt Avialies to keep you, that means he’s
willing to go to war for you.”

She stared at him. “Am I supposed to find that
romantic?”

“No, but don’t you see? He’s desperate to keep you
here. He knows he’s lost you with all the mistakes he’s made.”

She bit the inside of her lip. What if he thought he
had her again? Would he be willing to give Avialies their rights,
to get rid of Kilar and Tisha? But no, that meant she had to stay
here, she had to be with him. This castle was suffocating her, and
she longed to be with Dar again. She longed to be far from here.
But maybe… maybe until she could find a way to leave, she could at
least rid the castle of Kilar and Tisha. If Sashe was right, then
Tisha would harm the king for his prejudices, and Kilar obviously
wanted the ancient texts. Since Dar wasn’t here any longer, who
would Kilar go after first? Sashe?

Her mind raced with possibilities. She couldn’t
predict what he’d do, but
she
had to do something. She had
to change things, change who had control over who.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next day, Grace watched as William and Tisha
spoke quietly near the doors that led to the king’s chambers. He’d
been gone all day yesterday with Henry, and they hadn’t returned
with a Thieran. Instead, a physician was in with the king. Tisha
insisted that would be better than a Thieran.

Sashe sat next to Grace, her arms crossed and her
lips pursed. Her gaze fixed on Tisha, and she leaned closer to
Grace. “You must tell him what we spoke about last night.” She said
it as though they were talking about the weather, not the
accusation that Tisha poisoned the king.

“Yes, I will later,” Grace said.

Sashe raised her eyebrows. “Tonight?”

“Sure.” Grace glanced back at William and Tisha.

It was nearly mid-day. No one was allowed to go into
the king’s chambers but necessary servants. Instead, they sat in
the sitting room, even though Grace was sure he couldn’t care less
who was visiting him when he was throwing up and sleeping and
feeling so ill. But Grace was here because she was bored. She’d
tried to go to Jocelyn’s with her mother for a social visit, to ask
about her day with Kyler, but William asked her to stay.

Tisha left after a moment of conversation with
William. If Grace could convince William of his guilt, he could be
arrested, perhaps even executed.

Kilar, however, would be harder to get rid of. He sat
in one of the armchairs, chatting with the queen.

Later that night, William asked Grace to his chambers
for dinner. Grace wore the periwinkle dress William had given her,
and she and Marisa spent more time than usual in front of the
mirror making sure her make-up accentuated her features without
being obvious.

“You look beautiful,” Marisa said, frowning. “Are you
sure… I could tell him you’re ill.”

Grace shook her head as she stood. The sheath of her
dagger was a solid and comfortable weight against her calf. “I
can’t avoid this forever.”

Marisa’s eyes widened. “What do you plan on
doing?”

“I don’t exactly have a plan.” A vague idea of
something that might work, yes, but it wasn’t a plan, not something
with details and alternatives.

“Just be careful.” Marisa squeezed her shoulder as
she walked Grace to the door. She went with her to the prince’s
chambers, too. Grace gave her a grateful smile as she knocked on
the doors.

Inside the prince’s sitting room, the lights were
just a tad dimmer and the smell of dinner was rich in the air.
William didn’t stand as she entered. His dark blue eyes watched her
as she came to sit on the couch next to him, enough distance
between them for a small child to sit there. He waved his hand to
his servant, who promptly left.

She folded her hands in her lap. “How’s your
father?”

William shook his head. “The same.”

Grace’s hands tightened as she tried to put her
accusation into words. “Sashe and I… we don’t want to accuse anyone
unjustly, but… I wonder if this illness is natural or if someone
intentionally did this to the king.”

He stared at her for a moment. “You think someone…
what, poisoned him?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. All the Thierans are gone,
too, the only people who could help him. Doesn’t that seem a bit
too convenient to you?”

His eyes flashed. “Convenient for who, exactly?”

“For the king’s enemies. For anyone who could gain
from his death.”

He stood and walked to the table which had the wines
and alcohols. He poured one glass of wine and one glass of a harder
liquor. After giving her the wine, he took a drink of the hard
liquor and looked down at her. “And who, Grace, do you think could
gain from his death?”

Grace took a sip of her wine, then stood herself,
positioning herself a few inches from him. “Who disagreed with the
royal edict to let the Avialies come home? Who has said he’d do
anything to keep his people safe from the magicfolk?”

“Tisha would never be such a fool,” William said. He
downed the rest of his drink and stalked back to the booth with the
drinks.

Grace approached him. She wasn’t sure whether she
wanted him to drink or not—would it make him more or less
agreeable? She’d never seen him drunk, so she had no idea what
alcohol did to him. “He’s the only person who could threaten the
Thierans out of the city. Well, Kilar may have the power to do it,
but he respects your father. He agreed with the royal edict and
Tisha didn’t.” He also wanted magic, wanted to use it for his
advantage, so Grace couldn’t see him getting rid of Kris, Cobb, and
the Thierans.

William poured himself another glass of the
amber-colored drink. “You honestly believe I didn’t consider this
possibility?”

She was at a loss for words for a moment. When he
downed his second drink and turned on her, she asked, “Did you
confront him about Cobb and Kris?”

“He denied it, of course. He’s not going to admit to
discarding the castle’s Mahris and Thierans.”

“I thought he would have been proud of it if he had.
He’s hiding it because he used Cobb’s potions to poison the
king.”

“Or he’s hiding it because he knows the king would be
upset. My father wanted Cobb and his colleagues here.”

“So, I suppose the question is, how far is he willing
to go to purge Haltar of magic?”

William shook his head. He took a third glass, this
one filled with wine, and sat down at the table where their food
rested. “Sit down, eat.”

She sat across from him. “But William, this is
important.”

“I know why you care so much about this,” he said,
his voice sharpening. “If he dies, that leaves both you and the
Avialies in my hands.”

She looked steadily at him. “I trust that you will
follow in your father’s footsteps when it comes to the
Avialies.”

William laughed. “Really? Then you don’t know me near
as well as either of us thought you did.”

“Fine, William, indulge me. If your father died next
week, God forbid, what would you do?”

His face sobered. “I would revoke the royal edict and
banish them from the country. It’s the only way to keep you and the
people of Haltar safe.”

A chill went through her, but she kept her face
thoughtful, almost confused. “Kilar hasn’t told you about the
ancient texts yet.”

He looked surprised for a moment, then he narrowed
his eyes. “Told me what?”

She paused. What was the surprise for? Because he
hadn’t been suspecting her to say that? Because he did know about
the texts, after all? She shrugged and uncovered her plate. “You
should ask him. Suffice it to say that Kilar didn’t fight the royal
edict because he wants to use the Avialies.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Only some magicfolk
are willing to cooperate with us. Others are too barbaric.”

She picked up her fork. They ate in silence for a few
moments. After he’d finished his glass of wine, she asked, “And
what about me? What would you do with me if your father died from
this illness?”

He said nothing, studying his plate as he stabbed his
fork into his eggplant. After a moment, he looked up at her, and
his gaze traveled over her face, her bared collarbone, and her
dress. His brow furrowed. “You look lovely tonight.”

She tried to look bashful and smoothed down one of
her sleeves. “Thank you.”

“I have no idea what I would do with you,” he finally
said. “I want you to be queen, but I might just banish you to Jolen
instead.” He winked at her. As though it were flirtatious and she
should be wooed by his charm.

“I hear Jolen’s lovely,” she said lightly.

“You would miss me, I’m sure of it.”

“Are you?”

“Or I could force you to be queen, but I’d be rather
sour about it. I’d have a whole kingdom to run, I don’t want to
have to babysit my wife to make sure she won’t run off with some
criminal.” His tongue was becoming looser as he drank more and
more. He seemed to be half-joking, half-serious.

“I thought you said the fight was part of the fun,”
Grace said wryly.

“Yes, for now, but it’ll get old, don’t you think?
I’d get tired of you.” He leaned towards her and let out a sigh. “I
want you to want to be here, Grace.”

“I know. You promised to find me a reason to change
my mind. I’m still waiting.”

He motioned to himself, grinning. “What, this isn’t
reason enough?”

Grace tilted her head, examined him up and down, and
shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

He stood up and walked back to the drinks table. This
would be his fourth. He downed some more hard alcohol and poured
some into Grace’s wine. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
The alcohol on his breath was strong. “Drink up, my lady. We’ll
find a reason by the end of the night.”

Her stomach twisted as she tried to decipher what
that could possibly mean. She raised her wine glass to his,
clinking it to his before sipping. The wine had a strong kick to it
now, and she choked the warm liquid down her throat. He smiled and
finished his. He stumbled as he sat down and chuckled.

They continued their dinner. William kept drinking,
but his attitude didn’t change too much, even as alcohol kept going
into his body. He kept flirting with her and making jokes that were
both funny and frightening. She tried to loosen herself up with
wine and joke and flirt with him, but she wasn’t sure where he
thought the night was going and she wished she could throw up like
the night Marisa had slipped her the sense-dulling potion.

It took them nearly an hour to finish dinner and
their dessert, and then William decided to play the piano. He was
surprisingly good for the state he was in. She sat down and helped
him play.

“You smell amazing,” he suddenly said.

She smiled tightly. “It’s called perfume.”

He leaned closer to her and inhaled, closing his
eyes. “I love it.”

She forced herself not to lean away. If she could
give him a little bit tonight, a few kisses or something, maybe he
wouldn’t want more. Maybe, but it was such a large risk. What if he
wanted all of her, to hell with what she wanted?

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. He smiled
softly and touched her face. He cupped the back of her head in his
hands and drew her closer, then paused. “God, Grace, you look
terrified.”

She studied his face, trying not to show her fear.
“What do you you want, William?”

“Let’s find out.”

He kissed her softly on the lips. Her body stiffened,
but he didn’t move away. He stroked her neck, and she remembered
their kiss in the garden, when she was under the love potion. She
squeezed her eyes shut and kissed him back, trying to recall that
infatuation with him. Back then, he’d seemed so strong and handsome
and powerful and caring.

She touched his chest, just barely, and rested her
palms on his shirt. He sighed softly against her mouth as he
deepened the kiss. She could do this. He wasn’t rough or grabbing
yet as he had that first night when she’d had dinner with him. It
was just a kiss. She could get through this, even as she thought of
Dar and the way he kissed her and the way he smelled, even as she
wondered where he was and hoped he was safe.

One of his hands left her neck and traveled to her
shoulder, then down her chest. When his fingers brushed across the
top of her dress, she broke away from him and pushed lightly on his
chest. “I’m not—” Her voice came out strangled.

He smiled and kissed her softly on each cheek. “All
right, all right. They’re just so tempting in this dress.” His
fingers traced the skin below her collarbone in small circles,
moving closer and closer to her breast. She wouldn’t be surprised
if he could feel her heart slamming against her ribcage, trying to
escape. He cupped one of her breasts, and she pulled away to stand.
He groaned. “Oh, come on, Grace, we were just starting to have
fun.”

She shook her head. “Listen, I don’t hate you right
now. I’m fine with staying here, at least for now. If you want it
to stay that way, you have to give me time.”

His jaw tightened. “As far as I recall, you weren’t
the one telling me what to do.”