Shadow Heir

Chapter 5

Whatever look came over my face, it was enough to finally crack Pagiel’s anger. He blanched and hurried forward, falling to his knees. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“No, no,” I said, putting out a hand to stop him. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His words had stunned me, making everything I said and did sluggish. I felt as if I were moving underwater.

Dorian gave me a sharp look. “Neither did you.”

“How can you say that?” I exclaimed. “That poor girl was beaten because of me!”

“Not because of you. Because of them. Although ...” He shrugged, his expression considering. “When I think about it, I suppose there is a remarkable resemblance between the two of you. An easy—if stupid—mistake.”

“That doesn’t help,” I grumbled. “Not one bit. All that means is that every girl in our kingdoms with hair like mine now needs to watch her back.”

“They were fools to do this,” declared Dorian. “Not just because of the violation of my land, but also because they should’ve known you wouldn’t travel alone. If any one of them had half a brain, they would’ve deduced right away that they had the wrong girl.”

“And yet that changes nothing.” I sighed and turned back to where a worried Pagiel still knelt before me. “Get up,” I told him. “Where is she now? You said she was with a healer. In the Oak Land?”

Pagiel got to his feet. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I should go see her,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Dorian scoffed. “Oh, yes. That will certainly improve the situation. Go take a jaunt between kingdoms. Expose yourself to more risk.”

My temper flared. “What else do you expect me to—” I bit my lip on any other angry protests as I reminded myself we had an audience. Swallowing back all the things I wanted to say to Dorian, I attempted to put on as calm a look as I could for Pagiel. “I’m very sorry this happened to Ansonia. I can’t promise immediate retribution for it, but I can promise you it won’t ever happen again.”

Pagiel nodded, his face growing fierce once more. “I understand. But if you do strike back at some point—”

“Then you can definitely be part of it,” I finished, guessing what he was going to ask. I didn’t like to encourage revenge, especially in someone so young, but he was certainly entitled to his outrage. “We’ll let you know. In the meantime, go back to Ansonia. If there’s anything she needs, anything at all, just have her ask Dorian’s staff and they’ll take care of it.” I felt no moral qualms about speaking for Dorian, especially since he ordered my own people around half the time too.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Pagiel glanced at Dorian. “Your Majesties. I believe my mother is, uh, already working with the servants to ensure Ansonia is comfortable.”

Oh, I didn’t doubt that in the least. A pang of regret struck me as I recalled that last antagonistic meeting with Ysabel. I’d been semi-sympathetic to her concerns for Pagiel but had mostly treated her as though she was behaving in a hysterical and exaggerated manner. Whatever she was doing now, no one could accuse her of overreacting. Her daughter’s life had been wrongfully threatened.

After a few more conciliatory words from us, Pagiel and the guards who’d entered with him finally left. Once I was alone with Dorian and Roland again, I stood up to walk off my frustration. I paused at the room’s window, looking out at the idyllic green grounds below. The Rowan Land looked more like a fairyland than ever before when seen from afar. One didn’t notice all the danger and turmoil from this high up.

“Don’t beat yourself up, my dear,” said Dorian, watching me pace. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. The question is: what are you going to do now?”

I glanced back at him in alarm. “What are you going to do? You weren’t serious about this being an act of war, were you? I mean, we’re already kind of at war, but there’s no need for some drastic retaliation.”

“There’s need for something drastic,” countered Dorian. “Really, Pagiel’s interruption follows quite nicely on the heels of what we’d just been discussing. They have us running and slinking in the shadows. Are you really going to do this for the rest of your pregnancy? Are you going to do this after your children are born?”

I threw up my hands. “What else is there to do? Are you proposing some invasion of Maiwenn’s land?”

Dorian looked remarkably calm, considering the topic. “It wouldn’t be unfounded. And it would certainly send a message that they can’t keep pushing us around. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that maybe attacking young Ansonia wasn’t a mistake on their part?”

“What would make you say that?” I came back over to stand in front of him. Roland watched our exchange in silence. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Exactly,” said Dorian. “And the next girl attacked won’t either. Or the next.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “You’re saying they’re purposely attacking girls who look like me? Even though they know it’s in error?”

“I’m not saying for sure that’s what they’re doing. But it would be an excellent ploy to turn your—our—own people against us, if they feel they’re being unjustly targeted.”

“Sending our people to war would put a lot more of them in danger,” I pointed out. Five years ago, I never would have dreamed I’d be having these sorts of discussions.

“Yes,” said Dorian. “But danger’s a lot easier to face when you’re initiating it on your terms, as opposed to exposing yourself to victimization.”

“They already went to war once for me. I’m not going to let it happen again,” I said adamantly. Last year, Leith—the former Rowan queen’s son—had taken it upon himself to become the father of Storm King’s heir, whether I consented or not. During my rescue, Dorian had then taken it upon himself to punish Leith—by impaling the prince on a sword. Katrice hadn’t taken that news well, starting a war between us that had eventually led to me inheriting this kingdom. I’d hated every minute of that war and had been wracked with guilt over the thought of soldiers dying for me, no matter how many times I’d been assured that my people were willing to defend my honor.

Dorian’s look wasn’t unsympathetic, but it wasn’t exactly warm and friendly either. “War may be on you again, whether you like it or not.”

“Enough,” I said, raking a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to talk about the nobility of war anymore. Ansonia survived, which is what counts. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

“Don’t put it off too long,” Dorian warned. “Or you may find others making decisions for you.”

“I know,” I said.

What I didn’t add was that I had no intention of letting any more decisions be made without me, nor would I allow any other girls to be hurt on my behalf. An idea was forming in the back of my mind, one I was pretty sure Dorian wouldn’t like. It created a hollow feeling inside me, but from the moment Pagiel had told us about Ansonia, I’d known I had to take drastic action—and not the kind Dorian was suggesting. The answer was so simple, I couldn’t believe it had never occurred to me before. With an expression as convincingly bland as one of Dorian’s, I glanced over at Roland. “Let’s go figure out where my next doctor’s going to be. At least that’s a relatively simple matter.”

Dorian scoffed. “A foolish matter, you mean.” But he made no attempts to go with Roland and me, just as I’d thought. He and Roland did exchange very nice, very polite farewells, which I took as a positive sign, considering their past interactions. I wondered how polite things would stay between them if the plan I was formulating actually came to pass.

“Nasty business back there,” said Roland, speaking up at last. We were almost to the castle’s exit, and I think he felt more at ease now that he was nearly free of the walls. “No easy answers.”

“No,” I agreed.

“How old is this girl you were talking about?”

“A little younger than her brother. That’s Pagiel—the one you just saw.” I didn’t bother correcting for the rate at which gentry aged compared to humans. Roland would understand.

“There’s a dirty feel to all of it,” said Roland. He scowled. “Attacking pregnant women, attacking children. I wish you weren’t involved in any of it.”

We passed through the gates, back toward the lush grounds that had held the wedding. Two guards silently detached from a group near the door and followed me, keeping that respectful distance they excelled at.

“That makes two of us,” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m not just involved—I’m at the heart of it.”

I led us out to a cluster of hazel trees and settled down there on the grass. Roland looked surprised at the choice but quickly joined me. The guards, assessing the situation, chose sentry spots that maintained my privacy but would allow them quick access should a bunch of monkey assassins sent by Maiwenn leap down from the trees. Satisfied the guards were out of earshot, I leaned close to Roland and pitched my voice low, just to be safe. As my hands rested on the sun-warmed grass, I felt the Rowan Land sing to me, happy and content.

“I hate to admit it, but Dorian’s right about a couple of things. It seems crazy, but this could become a regular tactic of Maiwenn’s. And he’s also right that me jumping between kingdoms and worlds just exposes me to further attacks.” I tipped my head back, taking in the scent of honeysuckle. I couldn’t see it from where I sat, but my senses were always attuned to the land’s various stimuli. “I was recently approached by an ambassador from a far-off kingdom, who invited me to come hide out with them. They promised security. Their argument was that I’d be away from my enemies’ lands and could avoid all the crisscrossing if I just stayed in seclusion within their borders.”

Roland’s gray eyebrows rose. “And you’re thinking of doing that?”

“No,” I said. “Certainly not with them, at least. I was thinking ... I was thinking that maybe the place where I really need to hide and stay put is in the human world.” The full weight of it didn’t really hit me until I spoke those words. From Roland’s expression, I could tell that he understood what a huge thing this was that I was suggesting.

“So not in Tucson,” he said, after several thoughtful moments.

“Not in Tucson,” I agreed, not entirely able to hide my regret over that. “It’d be the first place they’d look. But I have to assume that somewhere, in all the safe places you’ve come up with for medical care ... well, somewhere there must be a place where I could hide and live a ‘normal’ life until the twins are born.”

He nodded slowly. “I can think of a couple of places, but if you did this ... I mean, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing I’d like better than to get you out of this cursed place. But do you know what you’re truly asking? If you want to hide out back in our world, then you can’t do anything that would risk detection. You can’t use your gentry magic. You can’t even use your shamanic magic. Any of that could alert some Otherworldly creature wandering our world.”

“I know that,” I said. That hollow feeling within me intensified.

A faint smile lit his features. “I know you do—in theory. What I worry about is that you’re going to stumble across some poor person being tormented by a ghost and do a banishing without thinking twice. It’s not easy for you to stand by while others suffer.” He gestured around us. “Case in point.”

I stared off, knowing he was right. Could I do what I was proposing? Without me realizing it, my hand had moved protectively to my stomach. I could do it for them, I decided. I could do it for all the innocents in Dorian’s kingdom and my own. Better to ignore a haunting, I thought, than to allow others to die for a prophecy that probably wasn’t even real.

I took a deep breath. “I understand. I’ll do it—or rather, not do anything.”

Roland studied me for a few more seconds and seemed satisfied with what he saw. “What about all of this? Don’t you need to have some kind of regular bonding with this place ... and the other one?”

“I do,” I said. “And that’s probably going to be the trickiest part here. Jasmine can do a few quick fixes to tide the land over. I don’t know how long the land will accept her, though. If it can’t ... then, well, I’ll have to come back or else I’ll have caused suffering of a different type. The land will wither otherwise. But, if she and the land can manage it until the end of my pregnancy, I’ll just be the only one who suffers. Being away from the land affects me too.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said darkly.

I smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing physical or dangerous. . . just an intense longing. Like caffeine withdrawal.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I doubt it’s that simple.”

“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But what about the rest? You said you’ve got a few places in mind that I could go?”

“I do, though I’ll need to make some queries first.” In a rare show of affection, he rested his hand on mine. “I wish I could just take you home with me. I’d feel better if you were always in my sight.”

I squeezed his hand back. “Even you couldn’t take on a gentry army knocking on your door. And we can’t risk Mom.” I didn’t add that if this plan worked out, Roland couldn’t see me at all. Wherever I ended up hiding, I’d have to stay there with no connection to my loved ones. Roland and my mother would undoubtedly be watched. Meeting his blue eyes, I knew he’d already thought of this. He didn’t like it, but he’d agree to it.

After a bit more discussion, Roland was ready to leave and begin his search. That was his way. If there was a problem to be solved, he didn’t want to delay. He wanted to get right on it and take care of business. Now that we’d reached this decision, he was anxious to get me out of the Otherworld and into safety. Once he left, it was time for me to begin my own preparations, starting with the most important piece—Jasmine.

I found her in a nearby rose garden, curled up on a bench with some magazines she’d procured from a recent trip to the human world. After first swearing her to secrecy, I explained the plan Roland and I had concocted. Her reaction wasn’t what I’d expected.

“Take me with you,” she said immediately.

“I can’t,” I said. “That’s the whole point. I need you here. You’re the only person who can cover for me.”

“I’m the only one who can really protect you out there,” she insisted. After a moment, she made a small concession. “Well, maybe Pagiel too.”

I had to work hard to keep my face serious. It was almost cute how she was convinced that out of all the powerful gentry around here, many capable of miraculous feats, only two teenagers could adequately watch over me.

“He can’t come. No one I know can, that’s the point. I can’t even tell anyone where I’m going.”

“That’s bullshit,” she said. The profanity was an amusing contrast to her otherwise ladylike appearance, complete with a flowing ivory gown and flower-bedecked hair. “How will we know you’re okay?”

“You won’t, but if we can maintain obscurity and anonymity, you can be ninety-nine percent sure I’m fine.”

She didn’t like that. She didn’t like any of that. Seeing how fiercely she wanted to protect me, I marveled at how Dorian continually worried about her wanting to steal power from me. If that had been her intent, you’d think she would jump at the chance to become the lands’ caretaker. Instead, she made it passionately clear she only wanted to be by my side.

But finally, after hashing out the same points I’d just made with Roland and Dorian, I was able to convince her. I think the attack on Ansonia helped her accept the decision a little more easily. In growing close to Pagiel, Jasmine had gotten to know his sister as well. Jasmine was as outraged as the rest of us over the attack and didn’t want to see any repeats.

“I’ll do it,” she said at long last. “I don’t want to, but I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” I had to repress the urge to hug her. No matter how close we’d gotten, our sisterly relationship hadn’t quite crossed into great shows of physical affection.

She shrugged. “Ah, well. This is nothing. You’ve got a lot worse ahead.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “I sure wouldn’t want to be you when you tell Dorian.”