“Regret isn’t the same thing,” I said.
He paused a moment. “I’m both sorry and regretful.”
“You’re a liar.” I imagined him killing my mother the moment she caught him, no words exchanged, just a look of shock on her face. He’d stabbed her. He’d killed her for silver. He wasn’t sorry. Regretful, yes, but only because he’d failed to get rid of me. Rage came over me, burning in my chest. “Everything you say is a lie.”
“I’ve told nothing but the truth. She would’ve killed me if I hadn’t protected myself.”
I searched the room, quickly finding a small yet sharp surgical knife.
“It’s the truth, Neeko!” Swenn yelled, sitting up with a severe grimace. I was glad to see he was in pain, though it would be nothing compared to what I was about to do. He tried to get off the bed to run, only to fall to his knees.
“You’re going to be honest, or you’re going to bleed. Your choice. She never attacked you, did she!”
Shara jumped in front of me. “The trial! Wait for the trial or they’ll hang you, too!”
I tried to move around her, remembering she was injured. I couldn’t; she put herself in my path each time.
“Move,” I told her.
“Help!” Swenn yelled, crawling to the door.
“Put down the knife, hurry!” she urged. “They’re surely coming.”
I wouldn’t make it to Swenn in time. Gods, how I wanted to see him squirm as I held the blade to his shoulder. I knew exactly how he’d murdered Faye, the liar. She would never attack him! Luke never attacked him, either. He took them both by surprise.
“Wait for the trial,” Shara pleaded again.
I gave in, letting her take the knife. She quickly hobbled past me to put it back with Mayla’s other tools.
Swenn had nearly gotten to the door when it opened from the other side. I felt my eyes bulge as the king and his guards entered in a rush.
“What happened?” Quince asked. “Did you fall?” He grabbed Swenn by the arms and hoisted him up.
Swenn craned his neck to glance at me, his chest heaving with each breath. His glance darted around for the knife. Disappointment took his face for just long enough for me to notice.
“Are you truly too injured to help the master of coin back into bed?” Quince questioned me dubiously as he supported Swenn’s drooping body.
“It’s difficult to explain,” I answered.
“I’m sorry, sire,” Swenn said, his voice strained, “but your grip on my arm is causing pain to my shoulder.”
“I apologize.” Quince glared at his guards. They came with great haste to carry Swenn back to bed. When they set him down, his forehead glistened with sweat, his shirt wet with it.
Swenn seemed to pass out even before his breathing calmed. Mayla and Laney returned, both entering with wide eyes.
“Sire,” Mayla said, bowing.
“Check on my master of coin.”
She hurried over and touched Swenn’s forehead. “No fever, just overexerted himself. What happened?”
“I am still waiting for Neeko to explain that.”
What would Swenn say later?
“He fell, sire.”
“Why force him to call for help instead of assisting him back into bed?”
Was he truly asleep?
“May I speak with you privately, sire?”
“You will answer my questions as I ask them.”
I noticed Shara nodding at me. The trial was coming. Now was as good a time as any.
“He fell trying to get away from me. He admitted something I’d suspected for eight years, and he feared I would hurt him.”
I felt some accomplishment for the expression King Quince now wore. I couldn’t imagine the ruler of our kingdom often looked as baffled as he did in that moment.
“Mayla,” he said, not taking his eyes off me, “can Swenn be woken?”
“The medicine I gave him recently has reached its full potency. He’ll be under a heavy blanket of drowsiness for at least an hour, but he should rest even longer than that. His body needs it.”
“Then you must expound,” Quince told me. “However, I will not stand for lies. Speak the truth, or you will no longer be trusted. I do not need to say what usually happens to pyforial mages. The only reason this has not happened to you is because of trust, and there is not much left.”
“Neeko wouldn’t lie to you, sire,” Shara said.
It pained me to see her get involved, especially when she was wrong. I’d already lied to him, of course. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter, as I’d tell nothing but the truth from now on.
“Swenn killed my mother eight years ago.”
The room went still.
“Wake him up,” Quince finally said.
Mayla pursed her lips “His mind might be too clouded to understand anything.”
“Then we’ll see.”
“King Quince,” I said, “Swenn is to be questioned about the murder of his squire, right?”
The monarch held out his hand to stop Mayla. “Yes.”
“Are you planning to use a psychic to verify that his statements are truthful?”
“Charlotte cannot be trusted. She fought to escape.”
“But there’s another woman who is strong enough to detect lies, this one unquestionably allegiant to you. Swenn killed my mother as well as his squire, neither in self-defense. All we need to do is ask him in front of this woman, Cedri.”
Quince scowled. “How would you know before I do that she is strong enough in psyche to detect lies?”
“Because I found out just today from Charlotte. I believe Cedri isn’t fully confident in her abilities yet, but a simple test could prove she’s capable.”
I hoped I hadn’t embarrassed the king. I couldn’t read his expression, though it certainly wasn’t of approval. He glanced at Mayla.
“Do you still believe Swenn will be lucid by tomorrow?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Then we will have the trial after breakfast. Make sure he is fed, and do not give him anything to cloud his mind.”
“Yes, sire.”
“Neeko, if your lies or antics with psyche turn this trial into a travesty, it will be the last time you are allowed to open your mouth to anyone in my army, and especially to me.” He glanced at his guards. “Stay with Swenn until his trial.”
“Yes, sire,” they answered, shuffling to Swenn’s bedside.
Quince left without another word, probably to find out everything he could about Cedri, perhaps even speak with her himself. I was right to entrust this task to her, wasn’t I?
I hoped so. If not, I’d made an egregious error.
Someone spoke to Quince just outside. “Terren Polken is here, and he brought his entire party.”
“Where are they now?” the king asked.
“With the queen in the outer courtyard. She’s refusing to let them inside.”
I heard running, then nothing.
I spun to Shara. “I have to—”
“Go, go!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I ran after the king and his guards, trying to ignore the embarrassment the many bandages I wore on my arms and cheek were about to cause me. The queen—who was she? More importantly, why wouldn’t she allow Terren inside the castle?
When I arrived in the courtyard, I easily spotted Terren, Alex, Effie, and Steffen. A line of armored guards stood between them and the only entrance to the castle. The king had just arrived, but where was the queen?
Quince faced a woman who looked no older than Shara. “What are you doing, Eona?” he asked.
“I was out here when they arrived,” she answered defensively. “I saw what their psychic did. How can I let them enter after that?” She had the same air of superiority as other nobles I’d encountered. As I came around and glimpsed her face, I realized I’d seen her before. She was one of two women Shara had approached when we first came to the castle. I’d seen her around the halls as well.
This woman couldn’t be the queen. Quince looked to be in his mid-twenties while she looked no older than sixteen. She was elegantly beautiful yet dressed awkwardly, too young for her open-collar dress, her bust pushed up by a golden-laced bodice. Perhaps she was the king’s sister?
“Stand down,” Quince told the line of armed men Eona had assembled. The tension in the air didn’t change as the guards sheathed their swords and Quince glared at Terren. “I have received no messages from you. Come inside and we will speak.”
Terren found me, raising his eyebrows in question. I nodded in hopes of conveying his party would be safe in the castle.
“I’d like Neeko and Charlotte with us,” he told Quince.
“That will not do. For obvious reasons, I do not want your psychic near my mage.”
“Then just Charlotte.”
“Please come inside and I will explain.”
“Where is she?” Terren asked, his tone accusatory.
“Tell them what she did,” the young woman called out.
Quince lifted his hands. “Eona, go back in the castle.”
She huffed as she turned on her heels and walked off in a snobbish saunter, disappearing between the guards.
“Why Neeko?” Quince asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I’d just like to speak with him,” Terren said. “If you wouldn’t mind fetching Charlotte, wherever she is, I would appreciate that, too.”
“Not until you explain yourself.”
The two men became silent. I walked to them, forming a triangle among the three of us, Quince’s guards behind him, the rest of Terren’s party behind him.
And no one behind me.
“Everything will be clear in a moment,” I assured my king before focusing my gaze on Terren. “It’s safe.”
“Safe?” Quince exclaimed with great insult. “Of course it is safe. You will explain your connection to this right now, Neeko.”
“What I said about Swenn earlier—they know it to be true. More than that, Swenn knows they know.”
“Neeko,” Terren whispered harshly.
“He’s been injured and is about to be put on trial,” I assured Terren. “There’s no risk to entering the castle.”
Terren looked at Quince intently. “I’m sorry for the way this has unfolded. I didn’t mean any insult by missing our meeting or speaking with Neeko. Please allow me to explain.”
“Fine.” Quince turned to his guards. “I want a table set in my quarters, six chairs. Tell the chefs.” They scurried off. “You and yours will be dining with me as we speak.”
“And who is to fill the sixth chair?” Terren asked.
“Charlotte, as you wished.”
“Thank you.”
I tried to hide my disappointment that I wouldn’t be there to oversee this conversation.
“May I have just one moment to speak with Neeko?” Terren asked.
This did not please my king, though he seemed more irritated with me than with Terren, showing me a cold glare.
“Very well.” Quince left as the five of us huddled in a small circle.
“Everything has gone wrong for Swenn recently,” I explained. “His squire came to my room to kill me, and Shara was there instead.”
“Is she…?” Steffen asked.
“She’s fine. They fought. He was masked but she burned his arm before he fled. There was no hiding what he’d done after that, so Swenn killed him to keep it from getting back to him. There was a struggle between them. Swenn was injured and poisoned. He’s asleep now. There will be a trial tomorrow, and he’ll be hung if convicted, which seems likely. You won’t be in danger in the castle or anywhere else.” I took a breath.
Terren’s lips crept into a smile. “Then I’ll gladly tell Quince where I was when I missed his meeting.”
“What about Charlotte?” Effie asked.
“I told her to leave the castle and meet the rest of you because she was in danger,” I explained. “She tried, hurting them with psyche, but there were too many. They struck her in the head to stop her.” They gasped. I threw up my arms. “She’s fine. She didn’t want you to know so you wouldn’t worry.”
“Terren,” Quince called, “our table will be ready by the time we walk to my quarters.”
“Thank you,” Terren called back. He squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll speak again.”
Not wanting to keep the king waiting, they walked off to join him. Quince wouldn’t be happy that I was the first one to tell them about Charlotte. I thought about what else Terren could say that would be damaging.
A whole lot,
I realized. It would come out that I’d left the castle without Jaymes’ permission.
And Jaymes had told me to make sure the king never found out.
I rubbed my wrist.
Terren certainly would talk about Gram and the other men Swenn sent to kill Kayren.
More to be put on trial?
Quince would piece together that I’d come back and told Charlotte to leave.
The thought sent me into a hot panic. Did I need to consider the possibility of being dismissed from the army? Too late, I already was considering it. Quince wouldn’t just dismiss me. I would be put in the same kind of hell as the rest of the pyforial mages.
I wanted to prove my worth more than ever before. After a quick supper, I would find Jaymes to request more training.
I returned to the medical room to escort Shara to the great hall, her injuries the perfect excuse to put my arm around her. Descending the stairs made her wince, as did lowering her into a seat.
“It helps to know Swenn is in the same pain,” she muttered beneath the noise of the hall, her eyes finally settling on the food before us. “My gods. All of it looks delicious, and I’m starving.”
I made her a plate that was an amalgam of everything—three kinds of cured meat, steaming rice, an enormous golden corncob, and buttered bread.
I set it down in front of her with a satisfying
clunk
. She leaned back, her eyes bouncing back and forth between me and the plate. “You made your plate first?”
“That’s for you.”
“Are you trying to tell me something about my body?”
I laughed. “I’ll eat what you don’t.” My stomach ached as though I had a couple meals to make up.
We ate in companionable silence, each bite more pleasurable than the last until half my plate had been cleared. Shara pushed hers over to me.
“Take some off. I’m not used to looking at more food on my plate than I can handle. It’s making me uneasy.”
I took about half of what was left while I told her what had happened with Terren and Quince.
“What was the queen doing there?” she asked.
“She wasn’t there, just some woman your age.”