Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series) (9 page)

“But you want this. There’s something more than friendship here.”

“Shouldn’t that have been a question?”

“No, Kara. I see it, but I don’t understand why you think my life isn’t already dangerous.”

“Of course I understand that. It’s not that at all. It’s—”

“Kara? Braeden? Are either of you up there?” Twin’s voice echoed up the stairwell.

Braeden turned in time to catch a shadow moving against the stairway’s wall. He tensed—no one could see him with Kara.

“I’ll keep her out of the garden. Hide,” Kara whispered. She nodded to a ledge over the door.

Braeden wrapped his hand around the small of her back and pulled her toward him before she had time to tense or resist. He kissed her forehead.

“Think about it,” he said.

He pulled himself onto the overhang as Twin’s foot rounded the corner. He crouched on the ledge, out of sight.

Kara grinned into the stairwell. “How are you doing, Twin?”

“There you are! The Gala is going to start soon, and you need to be at the procession line. Are you ready?”

“Sure am,” Kara said with a nod.

Twin’s voice continued from the stairwell. “Have you seen Braeden, by chance? We can’t find him anywhere.”

“That’s weird. No, I haven’t.”

Braeden studied Kara’s expression—her face remained perfectly smooth, without even a twitch in her lip to give away the lie. She would have convinced him, even, under different circumstances.

When did she learn to lie?

Kara smiled again at Twin and disappeared into the stairwell without another glance upward.

Braeden sat on the overhang and sighed. It shouldn’t have bothered him so much that she could lie. Of course she knew how. She’d hid the truth about what he was, and no one was the wiser. She’d kept her real reason for pushing him away a secret, too—for a while, at least. How she could let herself be lonely because she’d lost her parents, he couldn’t fully understand.

He groaned. How hypocritical. Of course he could understand—he just didn’t want to.

He picked up a few pebbles from the mountain beside him and passed them through his fingers since he didn’t have any grass to rip apart. Well, at least none he could reach without moving. He needed to get to Gavin’s temporary study to prepare for the procession, but it was more important that he wait a while longer to give the girls a head start. He couldn’t risk someone knowing he’d been alone with Kara.

After ten minutes, he jumped off and trotted down the stairs, his eye peeled for Hillsidians. The upper levels remained empty, though, and he passed down to the lower levels without a moment’s hesitation.

He retraced his steps to Gavin’s study to the best of his ability, but had to stop a passing guard for help in choosing the right corridor. Another fifteen minutes passed before he made it to his adoptive brother’s office.

Braeden opened the door to find Gavin sitting at the desk.

“You’re late,” the Blood said.

“I am. Where’s Richard?”

“I told him to wait in his room,” Gavin said with a nod to the hallway.

“Why?”

“So that I could talk to you alone for a moment.”

Braeden’s fist tightened instinctively. Gavin knew. There was no other reason for his wanting to speak alone. He must have figured him out somehow. Maybe he’d ordered a spy to track Kara or had simply seen the two of them in the garden. Or—

“At a minimum, are you going to apologize? It’s inconsiderate,” Gavin said.

Braeden paused. Inconsiderate was not the word he would have chosen for twelve years of lying and deception.

Come to think of it, Braeden would already be in poisoned handcuffs if Gavin knew the truth. This was about something else entirely.

“What am I supposed to apologize for, exactly?” he asked.

Gavin smacked his desk and stood. “
Bloods
, Braeden! What happened to you? Your mind is always somewhere else. You don’t talk to me or Richard any more. You’ve completely changed! And for what, some human girl?”

“Don’t speak about K—”

“I am your Blood, and I will speak however I please!”

Braeden clenched his jaw to bite back the scathing rebuttal that would have ruined everything.

Yes, he’d changed since he met Kara. He was on edge now, constantly afraid that he would be discovered. But it wasn’t
her
so much as the truth—that the Grimoire couldn’t break his blood loyalty to Carden—that had changed him. All of his hope for freedom had disappeared the night the Grimoire became useless to him.

“People change, Gavin. You’re proof of that. You’re greedier than ever, hung up on revenge and the vain hope that an old book will solve your problems!”

“No, not the book. Its master,” Gavin snapped. His jaw tensed, and he closed his mouth, but it was too late. He had evidently said too much.

“Is that part of what you planned to tell me when we returned home? You’re going to use Kara? You’ve already tried, Gavin. That didn’t work.”

“Please, just trust me,” Gavin said softly. He stared at the floor, shoulders bent as if he hadn’t slept in ages.

“No.”

The only person in the world Braeden could trust was Kara. She knew the truth, and he had begun to care for her in a way he never thought possible.

Gavin fell back into his seat and rubbed his eyes.

“Braeden, you used to spar with me before the Vagabond reappeared. You and I would hunt, talk about strategy and war and philosophy and women and love. You’ve never believed in love, but I can see that you are falling for Kara. You’re almost always out hunting, but when you are home, you’re not mentally with us. You’re thinking of her, always. I know it. I see it. I understand it, I do. She’s beautiful. But you can’t lose yourself to her. She doesn’t want you. She’s using you. She needed a bodyguard, and she took it too far. Just look—”

“ENOUGH!”

Braeden’s tone startled even him. Rage pumped through him: the aftermath of nearly losing control. Twelve years of denying his royal heritage had surfaced in that one word. For the first time in his life, he’d spoken like the Heir he was.

It was a miracle he hadn’t shifted into his natural form.

“You will never speak to me like that again,” Gavin said in an even tone.

“You may be the Blood, but I am still your brother. You cannot treat me as less than that.”

Gavin frowned and leaned back in his chair. “Brothers. Yes, let’s discuss that. When we were growing up, I always thought of you as a brother. I shared everything with you, trusted you. I could have treated you like an orphan, Braeden. I could have wondered why my parents would adopt a child when any family in Hillside would have taken you with a single request from Mother. Why did she choose you? I never asked. I never cared. So yes, Braeden, until the Vagabond lured you away, you were my brother. I wish you would remember yourself.”

Braeden shut down. It was all he could do to keep from screaming, from shifting and telling the arrogant Blood the truth. His face hardened, and all he could do was examine Gavin with an icy stare that was neither interested nor hateful.

“You’re the one who has lost his way, Gavin. Not me.”

Gavin set his fingers against one another and leaned his hands against his face. He stared at Braeden as if he was dissecting something, or maybe trying to piece together some greater puzzle.

“I just want my brother back,” the king said.

“Then stop trying to control me.”

Braeden tensed. He’d said
try.
Gavin, however, continued without a moment’s hesitation. Braeden suppressed a sigh of relief.

“I don’t
want
to control you, Braeden. I’m trying to help you. The Vagabond is a weapon, and she knows that. She has to be playing you.”

“She’s not.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Gavin asked.

Braeden didn’t answer.

“I want to fix this, Braeden. I want you to have faith in me again. I don’t even know when I lost your trust, but I am right about this whether you like it or not. If time is what it takes for you to see the truth, so be it. I will not remove my order. You are not to see Kara in private. I hope you will someday understand why. For now, though, we must head down to the ceremony.”

Gavin got to his feet and walked around the desk, but Braeden stood in the doorway as he approached. Braeden wanted to remain, to make the king walk around him, but he knew what would happen. Gavin would likely issue a wordless command to move. If Braeden didn’t obey, the last shreds of normalcy in his life would unravel.

The Blood stopped just short of him, and Braeden moved aside to let him by. He didn’t know how much longer he could submit to the man who had once been like a brother, but who was now quickly losing his mind.

The door opened with a wave of Gavin’s hand, the stone groaning as it slid across the floor. Richard stood in the hall beyond, his back to them. He turned as they came closer and raised his eyebrows when Braeden caught his eye. He gaped as if Braeden’s glare had scared him.

Braeden followed but kept his distance from Gavin. Richard joined him behind the king and nudged his side.

“You look ready to kill,” Richard whispered.

Braeden shrugged. He
was
ready to kill.

Richard nudged him. “You must relax. This isn’t a party—it’s a political arena. If the Hillsidian Blood’s brother looks murderous, it will reflect poorly on all of Hillside.”

Braeden took a deep breath. He wanted to explain, to tell Richard what Gavin was doing, but he couldn’t possibly have spoken low enough for Gavin to miss their conversation. Instead, he shook his head, hoping his adoptive father would understand his anger and leave it at that.

Richard put a hand on Braeden’s shoulder and squeezed. “Just have faith, boy, and trust that it will work out for the best.”

They rounded a turn in the hallway and began down a curved flight of steps. The stone stairs angled into the grand hall below, where hundreds had already gathered. Musicians sat in chairs on a platform at the far end of the hall, their fingers strumming across the strings of their instruments. Their notes swelled into the rafters and washed over Braeden thanks to the room’s acoustics.

Hundreds of guests sitting at the dozens of tables below stood as Gavin headed down the stairs with Braeden and Richard in tow. A wave of applause started amongst the Hillsidians and carried out into the other guests until the light patter of hands clapping together became a mild thunder.

The applause settled as Gavin led Braeden and Richard farther into the hall, toward a raised platform with a long table. The other royal families sat in their places, having left the center seat and three to its right open. Gavin took the seat immediately beside the center chair, and Richard took the next one over. Braeden had no choice but to sit between Richard and the princess Evelyn, which left the center chair open for Kara. He wouldn’t be near her, nor would he be able to look at her without Gavin noticing.

Braeden cursed his brother under his breath. The man even controlled the seating placement. Braeden took his seat and gave a sharp nod to Evelyn. She forced a smile in return.

A few boxes lined his plate, but only one caught his eye—a twelve-by-three-inch wooden box with the Grimoire clover carved into its lid. The clasp was nothing more than a metal hook tucked away in an eye, and it was all he could do not to open it right then.

He grinned. Kara hadn’t forgotten him when she’d brought along presents for everyone. He’d seen the village’s treasury, but couldn’t begin to guess what she’d chosen for him. It wasn’t like he needed more weapons.

A series of gasps spread through the crowd like wildfire, followed by applause much louder than had been given to Gavin. Braeden looked up and caught his breath.

Kara had begun down the steps, her feet slowly following each other. Though he’d already seen her, he couldn’t help himself; he stared. Her pale hair almost had a red tint to it in the hall’s warm light.

Her cheeks flushed at the room’s reaction to her arrival, which made Braeden grin. That girl couldn’t stand attention.

Someone beside him chuckled, the sound too quiet for many others to hear. He turned to see Gavin smirk and lean back, eyes fixed on Kara as she entered. Braeden’s grip on his armrest tightened, his knuckles bleaching from the effort.

Gavin wanted Kara’s power, but the glint in the king’s eye hinted that he perhaps wanted something else as well.

So that was it—Gavin wasn’t trying to protect Braeden from what he believed to be a manipulative political player. He wanted Kara for himself, and Braeden was in the way.

Those sitting at the head table with him stood, but it took Braeden a moment to figure out why. He pushed himself to his feet as he saw Kara nearing them. An attendant pulled her seat out for her, and the rest of the table sat with her.

Kara glanced over to Braeden as she took her seat. He smiled. She grinned back. He was about to mouth a quick
‘thank you’
for his gift when Gavin leaned forward, blocking Braeden’s view. The king set his elbows on the table and leaned just slightly over his plate, turning his head enough to catch Braeden’s eye. Gavin frowned and turned away, but didn’t move.

Braeden sat back in his chair. This was going to be a long night.

Gavin stood and spread his arms to address the table, but he faced the throngs of people sitting at the tables below the platform.

“My friends and neighbors, this is an exciting time. Here in the once-powerful halls of Ethos, we have gathered to celebrate the beginnings of a new era of peace and unity. The world is broken, my friends, but together we will fix it!”

Evelyn sighed, the sound so quiet Braeden barely heard it. He glanced farther past the princess to see Aislynn watching Gavin with a tense smile. Farther down the table, Blood Ithone leaned back, his wings flowing over his seat. He sat still as a statue, but his daughter Aurora kept moving the silverware beside her plate. Ithone’s wife stared off into the crowd, her eyes clear but empty. With a start, Braeden realized he didn’t even know her name. The queen of Kirelm had never even been mentioned in his presence.