The Spirit War

CHAPTER 8

Dawn had barely broken when Eli woke to the feeling of something cold tracing a burning line across his cheek. He gasped before he could stop himself, his body going rigid. Slowly, deliberately, he forced himself to take deep, calm breaths. Only when he was sure his voice was neutral did he dare to speak.

“I asked you not to do that,” he said, opening his eyes.

Beautiful, hated laughter floated through the glowing air as the too-white hand left his face and moved to linger on his chest. Eli swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat. Not now. He couldn’t lose it now.

Benehime lay stretched out in the bed beside him, her white body pressed against his. Eli could feel every spirit in the room watching, their souls bowed in reverence to the White Lady, but the Shepherdess didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was entirely on Eli as she buried her face in the hollow of his throat.

Remember when we used to spend every morning this way? she whispered, nipping at his windpipe with a little burst of the painless fire he’d learned to loathe. You were so happy then.

“I was very young then,” Eli said, shifting away from her as much as he dared. “Why are you here, Benehime?”

Do I need a reason? she said, pushing up so that she was looking at him.

Eli said nothing, and Benehime relaxed against him with a long sigh. If you must know, I’ve brought you some news. You always did love a bit of gossip. She smiled, her hand tracing Karon’s burn. Deep in his chest, Eli felt the lava spirit roll over in fear. Benehime felt it, too, and she laughed, leaning forward so her white hair fell across them both.

Nara’s embraced her power again, she said, moving her hands up to play with his tousled hair. She’s putting together quite the little show. I have to say I’m impressed. She hasn’t been this Empress-like in centuries. I’m beginning to remember why I loved her.

She paused, watching his face for jealousy, but Eli flashed her a genuine smile.

“What a marvelous turn for everyone if she should manage it,” he said. “The Empress always did adore you more than I ever could with my black heart.”

Benehime’s smile faded, and her fingers tangled painfully in his hair. Don’t be cold, Eliton, she whispered, dragging his head back. You need to remember that my love is something to be coveted, not taken for granted. I’ve played your game for many years now, watching you run free, chasing your ridiculous dream of that absurd bounty. It’s been an adorable show, but the time for play is over, and I grow tired of waiting.

“Why are you waiting for me?” Eli said. “Surely there’s someone else who can keep you company. The whole world loves you.”

What do I care about the world? Benehime said, her beautiful face falling into a sullen frown. You’re the only soul that matters to me, love. That’s why I came to warn you. She released her grip on his hair, pulling her hands down to cup his face instead. Nara is coming to take me from you, she whispered. She’s marshaled an army like none I’ve ever seen. There’s no way you can beat her alone.

Eli had to grit his teeth to keep from flinching as she stroked his cheeks. “With all due respect, Shepherdess, there have been a lot of things you’ve said I couldn’t do, and I’ve done most of them.”

Benehime stiffened, her hands tightening on his face, and for a moment Eli was afraid she was going to rip his head clean off. But then she smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft, burning kiss against his lips. So arrogant, she whispered, moving up to kiss the tip of his nose. So self-assured. That’s why I love you. She kissed him one last time and pulled back. Really, though, Eliton, you’ve never been an idiot. For all your puffed-up talk, you must know you’ll lose in the end. Nara commands half the world, and now that she’s got her spine back, she means to control the whole thing.

Benehime began to laugh. Poor thing still hasn’t realized that ruling the world doesn’t solve all its problems. I should know; I’ve tried. She sighed against him, patting his cheeks with her fingers. She’s a lost cause, darling, but she’s one you can’t possibly hope to beat. Better come home now while things are easy. If you make me save you, I won’t be so gentle.

“But that’s the game, isn’t it?” Eli said, lying still as a board beneath her. “If I ask you for help, you win.”

The Shepherdess’s fingers froze against his skin. You’re not still on about that old thing, are you?

“I most certainly am,” Eli said. “And so are you, which is why you haven’t just yanked me back yet. You want to win, but so do I, and I’m not one to just roll over.” He broke into a wide grin. “You’ll have to find something scarier than the Immortal Empress if you want me to come crying back to you, Benehime.”

The Shepherdess’s face closed like a slamming door. She sat back on top of him, suddenly cold and distant. I was trying to let you keep your dignity, she said with a sneer. I should have known better. You always did enjoy throwing my kindness back in my face. But mark me, favorite, the Empress is coming and she has no love for you. I am your only hope. Try to keep that in mind the next time you decide to be rude.

Eli didn’t answer. He just lay there, his body perfectly still against hers. The Shepherdess watched him a moment longer, and then she leaned down. I’ll be waiting, she murmured against his mouth, kissing him one last time.

She kept her white eyes open the whole time, staring at him as her mouth crushed his. Eli stared back, not moving so much as a fraction as the burning feel of her lips grew from ticklish to nearly unbearable. Finally, with a slight smile, Benehime vanished. There was no white line, no change. She was just gone, leaving behind nothing, not even a warm spot on the bed. Eli didn’t dare move a muscle. He lay perfectly still as the seconds ticked by with painful slowness, counting them one after another until he reached a full minute. Then, like a dam breaking, he collapsed into the bed, gasping as the lingering feel of her presence faded from his body.

Powers, he thought, rolling over as he curled into a ball, clutching his knees against his chest as he fought to get the burning feel of her off his skin. Powers, did he hate her.

“She’s getting pushier,” Karon whispered, his rumbling voice vibrating up from Eli’s chest. “You better watch yourself. You might be the favorite, but it’s unwise to push the Lady too far.”

Eli squeezed his eyes tighter as he tried to find the words to tell his lava spirit that not pushing wasn’t an option. Whatever she said, whatever she threatened, he couldn’t go back. Not ever. Not to her. It wasn’t just giving up his freedom, or the way she touched him whether he wanted to be touched or not. It wasn’t even the fear, or the constant feeling of walking on eggshells whenever she was around for fear of sparking her terrible temper. No, what he hated most was the feeling of being owned.

The moment she’d decided he was her favorite, his life had stopped being his own, and from the time he’d been old enough to understand what that loss meant, what she really was, he’d been fighting to get away from her. He’d lied and conned and traded everything he had, his entire future, for the limited freedom he enjoyed now. But the slack she’d released into his leash depended on his continued ability to make it on his own. That was their wager; that was the game. The moment he admitted he couldn’t make it on his own, the moment he reached out to her for help, Benehime won, and he went back to being her plaything forever.

“Do you think she’s serious about the Empress?” Karon said. “Osera has no hope at all if Nara’s coming this time, not unless you mean to take her yourself.”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Eli said, opening his eyes at last. “Nara won’t come. The only thing that could get that woman to move is Benehime herself, and there’s no way the Shepherdess would start a continental war just to squeeze me into asking for help. She’s nuts, but not that nuts.”

Karon rumbled deep in Eli’s ribs. “I don’t know what the Shepherdess is capable of anymore. She has changed very much from when I was young.”

“And how long ago was that?” Eli asked.

“Not as long as it should be to account for so great a change,” Karon said. “Be careful, Eli. Benehime was always a dangerous Power, but she seems to lose all sense when it comes to her love for you.”

“No argument there,” Eli muttered. There had been times when the Shepherdess was so angry that Eli had been sure she’d kill him. Sometimes, the dark times, he’d almost hoped she would. At least then he’d be free of her. But the older he got, the more he realized that even death wasn’t an escape from Benehime. If he died, she would just catch his soul and put him back together. There was no escape from the Shepherdess’s love.

“It has to be a bluff,” Eli muttered. “The Empire has been planning to invade Osera for decades. Now that they are, Benehime is just using the timing to try and scare me. But I’m not a stupid kid anymore, and she’s going to have to push a lot harder than that to break me.” He forced himself to smile. “It’s just another of her games, Karon. And I’m the best when it comes to playing games.”

Karon grumbled, unconvinced, and Eli patted his chest with a confident thump, though he wasn’t really sure whom he was trying hardest to convince with such bravado, the lava spirit or himself.

Outside, the sun was creeping over the castle walls, and Eli decided he’d better get up. He sat and stretched, running his fingers through his hair in a vain effort to remove the feeling of the Shepherdess’s hands. He was just reaching for his blond wig when he heard the soft click of the door lock. Eli moved in a flash, grabbing the wig and tossing it on his head. He fell back into his bed just in time to see a young manservant carrying a shaving tray slip through the heavy door.

“Can I help you?” Eli said, his voice drawling in exaggerated sleepiness.

The servant, who obviously thought he was being stealthy, jumped a foot in the air. “Good morning, sir,” he said when he’d recovered. “I am here to assist with your morning toilet.”

“Splendid,” Eli said, sitting up. “What’s your name?”

The servant shuffled. “Stefan, sir.”

Eli stood with a groan and walked across the room. He took the young man by the shoulder with a firm hand and turned him back toward the hall. “Stefan,” he said. “Excellent. Now, when I need assistance with my morning toilet, I’ll know exactly whom to call.”

“But, Mr. Banage,” the servant said, digging his heels into the rich carpet. “The queen ordered that we were to dress the prince and his guests for court.”

“How lovely,” Eli said, pushing harder. “Did she also order that we were to be starved to death?”

“No, sir!” the servant said, horrified.

Eli flashed him a winning smile. “Well, then, since I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, why don’t you go above and beyond the call of duty and find me some breakfast before I eat one of your fancy end tables? Could you do that for me?”

The young man frowned. “I suppose I could, sir, but—”

“You are a prince among men, Stefan,” Eli said, giving him a final push out the door. “Of course, considering the princes I’ve met, that might not be a compliment, but it was meant in good faith.”

The servant stumbled into the hallway. “Are you sure you do not wish my help, sir?” he said one last time. “I could ask one of the others to fetch your breakfast.”

“I trust no one but you,” Eli said, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t let me down!” he shouted through the wood.

If Stefan answered, Eli didn’t hear. He was already across the room, digging through his bag. He pulled the wig off his head and brushed it out with his fingers before placing it on the washstand. Using hot water from the shaving tray, he washed his face and then wet his real hair, combing it back slick before pressing it dry with one of the hot towels. Next, he picked his shirt and breeches from last night up off the floor and, as they were far and away the nicest clothes he had, put them back on. When he was dressed and his hair was mostly dry, he pinned his wig back in place. He was adjusting the fall of the blond hair across his shoulders when he heard the lock turn again.

Eli glanced up, expecting the servant, or at least a breakfast tray. Instead, Josef marched into the room. The swordsman was also dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, but the fine shirt and trousers were wrinkled as though he’d slept in them. His knives, all of them, were belted on and the Heart was across his back, ready to go. For one soaring moment, Eli thought Josef had changed his mind about staying, but then he saw the pair of guards hot on Josef’s heels and a servant hovering with lather bowl and razor in hand, and his spirits dropped.

“Have you seen Nico?” Josef said.

“Good morning to you, too,” Eli said. “And no.”

Josef grimaced. “I was sure she would come back, but she never did. I waited all night.” He scrubbed his hands through his short blond hair. “Something’s wrong, Eli. It’s not like her to be gone this long without a reason.”

Eli turned back to the mirror to contemplate his position. His swordsman could be unusually insightful about some things, but he was thick as a wagon of bricks about others. There was no easy way of explaining to him that, underneath the semisentient coat, monstrous strength, and shadowy past, Nico was a girl as well as a demonseed. Her relationship with Josef might be a nebulous, nameless sort of thing, but hearing that the man she trusted more than anything in the world, the man she followed with unquestioning loyalty, was married, had been married for a year, and never even thought to mention it… well, that had to sting, and Nico didn’t exactly talk about her problems.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Eli said, glancing at Josef and then pointedly flicking his eyes to the guards and the servant hovering behind him.

That, at least, Josef got. “Get out,” he growled.

“But, my lord,” said the guard at his left. “Your lady mother was very specific—”

“Where do you think I’m going to run?” Josef said. “This cell is the same as the one you just let me out of. I need to talk to my friend in private, so shove off. Now.”

The guards backed off as one, bowing their way out the door. The servant, however, stayed, heated towel ready. Josef stared at him a moment, and then grabbed the man’s shoulder. The servant made a sort of squeaking sound as Josef shoved him into the hall, closing the heavy door in his face.

“I can see why you had problems being a prince,” Eli said, leaning on the washstand. “Not exactly the genteel epitome of magnanimity and tact, are you?”

“Shut up,” Josef said, but there was no venom in it. He walked across the room and sat down on Eli’s bed, putting his head in his hands with a deep breath. “I can’t believe she’d leave without telling me.”

“She didn’t leave, Josef,” Eli said with a long sigh. “She probably just needs some time to work things through. It’s been a pretty dramatic week.”

“But she’s never done that before,” Josef said. “Vanished like that, in front of everyone.” He glanced up. “You’re the wizard. You would have heard if something happened to her, right? With the demon?”

Eli watched the swordsman with new interest. This wasn’t just bullheaded tactlessness. Josef was really worried. It was rather touching, actually.

“The whole castle would have heard if something had happened between Nico and her demon,” he said gently. “The fact that we were able to sleep last night is proof that she’s fine. She’s probably hiding somewhere, waiting for us to follow the plan and get out. My biggest worry is how we’re going to let her know the plan’s toast. Assuming, of course, you haven’t changed your mind since last night.”

“No,” Josef said, shaking his head. “I can’t leave. I told you that.”

“So you did,” Eli said, exasperated. “But you couldn’t have picked a worse place to have this fit of conscience. We’re wanted criminals, remember? The longer we stay, the more likely it is that someone’s going to put the pieces together and come after us, if they haven’t already. Staying doesn’t help anyone—not us, not Nico, and not your mother. You did your duty by showing up, so let’s cut our losses, find Nico, and get out of here before things get worse.”

Eli finished with a sinking feeling. Josef’s head was down, his hands clasped behind his neck. When he spoke at last, his voice was very calm and very, very serious.

“Eli,” he said. “I’m only going to say this once.” He looked up, and his eyes were the eyes of a swordsman who has bet his life on his next stroke. “I may be in disgrace, but Queen Theresa is still my queen, and she’s still my mother. I let her down before, and if staying here long enough to give her an heir is all she wants from me to make things right, then that’s what I’m going to do. End of discussion.”

Eli loomed over him, his mouth pressed in a tight, flat line. Josef glared right back, hands on his swords. Finally, Eli’s shoulders slumped, and he flopped back against the washstand with an enormous huff.

“All right, all right,” he said. “You win. When are you going to tell the queen your decision?”

“Right now,” Josef said, standing up. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Wait,” Eli said, holding up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. Unless you’re planning to steal that lovely set of antique tapestries she has above her fireplace, I don’t have anything to do with this. For the next few weeks at least, you’re the crown prince of Osera. I’m still the most wanted criminal in the Council. I don’t care how forgiving your dear mother is, it’s not exactly a winning match. Actually, it would probably be better for all involved if I lit out for a while. Go steal something and get my mind off things until you’re done being a good husband.”

Josef shook his head. “You have to be here.”

“Why?” Eli said, truly mystified.

Josef looked away. Eli pursed his lips thoughtfully. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said the swordsman looked sheepish.

“Being prince means I have to go to court,” Josef said at last. “Court means politics and a lot of talking to people who can’t be insulted. I’m not really—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “You’re the one who’s good with that kind of thing, all right? You have to stay.”

“Josef,” Eli said with a growing smile. “Could it be? Are you asking me for help?”

Josef glowered at him. “Not if you’re going to say it like that.”

“No, no, no,” Eli said, placing his hands on his chest. “I’m flattered. I would be delighted to be your adviser.”

“Good,” Josef said, nodding. “That’s settled, then.”

“Of course,” Eli added, raising one long finger. “You’d have to say what I told you to say, exactly as I told you to say it.”

Josef grimaced, and Eli shook his head. “That’s the only way it works. You can tell me to stay all you want, but if you’re not going to listen to my advice, I’m not going to waste my breath giving it.”

“Fine,” Josef grumbled. “Just don’t get carried away.”

Eli flipped the edges of his golden wig. “When have I ever gotten carried away?”

Josef rolled his eyes and didn’t answer.

“Now,” Eli said. “Let’s get started. Normally, I’d say we should put off seeing the queen. Let her sweat a bit. However, seeing as she’s your mother, sweating would probably only make her more stubborn, so we’re going to go see her immediately. When we arrive, you’re going to tell her that you’re staying and doing your part as a dutiful prince, but only if you get to keep your friends with you, and as soon as a pregnancy is confirmed, you’re leaving. Also, you want full freedom of movement and all royal privileges for you and your entourage, meaning myself and Nico.” He shot Josef a smile. “No reason we can’t have a little fun while we’re stuck here. Does that sound fair?”

Josef rubbed his chin. “I guess it does.”

“Excellent,” Eli said. “I’ll need a full rundown on Osera’s political situation before we do any more politicking than that, but hopefully we won’t have to. If war’s truly coming, Osera has bigger problems than us. All we need to do is keep our noses down, keep you in bed with your wife, and we’ll be out of here in two months. Tops.”

Josef winced. “I’m not a stud bull, you know.”

“You are now,” Eli said cheerfully, walking to the door. He opened it to find Josef’s guards, his overzealous manservant, and Eli’s own Stefan (now with a breakfast trolley instead of the shaving tray) standing in the hallway, whispering together. They all jumped when they saw Eli, but came when he beckoned, tiptoeing into the room as meekly as they could.

“So sorry about earlier,” Eli said, clapping Josef’s servant on the shoulders. “The prince had a bit of a bad night, but food will set everything to rights. Now,” he said, pushing the man toward Josef, “if you would be so kind as to make your prince presentable, we’ll see the queen as soon as she’s ready.”

Both servants cheered up immensely once they were free to do their jobs. Eli stepped aside to let Josef sit down at the washstand as both servants moved in and began cleaning him up. The swordsman sat glumly, letting them lather his chin and comb his hair. Meanwhile, Eli helped himself to a cup of tea, a plate of ham, and several scones from the breakfast tray before flopping down on the bed to watch the show. When Stefan asked if he would like a shave as well, Eli politely declined.

“It took me weeks to grow what I have,” he said, rubbing his fingers over the sparse beard on his chin. “I’m not quite ready to sacrifice it yet. Besides,” he nodded at Josef, who was gripping his swords as the manservant deftly ran the razor over his taut neck. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Josef shot Eli a murderous look. Eli answered with a wide smile as he shoved another slice of ham into his mouth.

When he was shaved and clean, Josef sent the servants running with a growl before joining Eli at the breakfast tray. He ate five slabs of ham in rapid succession and then stepped away.

“Let’s go,” he said, wiping his hands on the shaving towels.

“Not so fast,” Eli said. “You can’t go see the queen like that.”

Josef looked down at his shirt. “Like what?”

Eli sighed and walked over to the mirror on the washstand, tilting it until Josef could see his whole body. Blades were strapped everywhere they could go. Hilts were visible at his sleeves, neck, waist, and boots. Bandoleers of throwing knives were crushing his dress shirt and his short swords were wearing a matched set of grooves into his new belt. Finally, there was the Heart of War itself, the wrapped hilt poking up high over his shoulder, just in case anyone wasn’t intimidated enough by the rest of it.

Josef crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Josef,” Eli pleaded. “You asked me to stay and help you be a prince. This is step one: not looking like a murderer.”

“I’m not going unarmed,” Josef said.

“No one’s going to challenge you to a duel in the palace.”

Josef snorted. “You obviously don’t know Osera.”

“Fine, fine,” Eli said, throwing up his hands. “One sword, but you’re leaving the rest.”

Josef planted his feet, daring him. Eli glared right back, and then he started to push.

In the end, they compromised on one short sword, all the hidden knives, and the Heart, which Josef absolutely refused to leave behind. Eli would have kept going, but it was nearing midmorning and his plan of not making the queen wait was already an hour off schedule. He tapped his foot impatiently as Josef slowly divested himself of the knives he’d agreed to leave, and then he pushed the swordsman into the hall.

The soldiers were more than happy to escort the prince and his friend to the queen’s chamber. The castle was bustling with morning activity. Servants, their arms full with trays, linens, and other vitals of a noble household, ran up and down the narrow halls, pressing themselves into the wall to make way when Josef and Eli passed. Eli watched the comings and goings with a keen eye. The queen ran a tight ship. Every servant was well groomed and well dressed in simple livery of good quality materials right down to their polished boots. It was little details like this, far more than any ostentation, that confirmed Osera’s wealth in Eli’s mind. He also noticed that everyone, even the servants, was armed with at least a dagger. He filed that tidbit away for questioning later. At the moment, though, he had more important blanks to fill in.

“Josef,” he whispered, leaning toward the swordsman as they walked down the hall. “If I’m going to help you be a prince, there are a few things I need from you.”

“Like what?” Josef said, visibly annoyed by the slow pace the guards set.

“Let’s start with the princess,” Eli said. “I’m guessing you two knew each other before all this?”

Josef nodded. “She’s Lenette’s girl.”

“Lenette?” Eli said. “The queen’s maid?”

“Lady-in-waiting,” Josef corrected him. “Lenette is my mother’s confidant and best friend. Has been for years. Adela’s her daughter. We grew up together.”

“I see,” Eli said. “Your mother married you to your childhood sweetheart in the hopes you wouldn’t complain as much.”

“We weren’t sweethearts,” Josef snapped. “But otherwise you’re right.”

“Well, at least she tried to make you happy,” Eli said, scratching his chin. “That’s more than most royal mothers.”

Josef didn’t say anything to that, and they walked the rest of the way to the queen’s chamber in silence. But when they got there, the queen was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her lady-in-waiting, the lovely woman in black from before, greeted them in the queen’s entry chamber.

“Lenette,” Josef said with a stiff nod as the soldiers left. “Where’s the queen?”

“Your mother is unwell this morning, Prince Thereson,” Lenette said, returning to the little table where she’d been sitting when they’d arrived.

“Let me see her,” Josef said, crossing his arms.

Lenette took her time, focusing her attention on the leaves in the little stone grinder in front of her. “The queen’s health is a delicate thing,” she said at last, pushing the grinding wheel until the leaves were crushed into a fine powder. “Her rest is not to be disturbed.”

“I’m sure she’ll want to hear this,” Eli said, cutting in before Josef could say anything he’d regret. “Can’t you take us to see her?”

“No,” Lenette said without looking up as she emptied the freshly ground leaves into the glass jar at her elbow. “Since you’re here, I assume you mean to tell her that the prince has decided to stay in Osera and do his duty?”

Eli and Josef exchanged a look.

“More or less,” Eli said.

“Good,” Lenette said with a nod. “I’ll tell her when she wakes up.”

“Listen,” Josef growled. “I don’t care how far you’ve crawled into the queen’s ear since I left—probably more than you should have, considering you convinced her to marry your daughter into the royal line of Osera. But you’re not so important that you can keep me from seeing my own mother.”

Josef’s anger was usually enough to turn people into jelly, but Lenette remained calm and collected.

“I’m not the one keeping you from your mother,” she said. “These are her doctor’s orders. If she is to be fit enough to appear at court today, she must be allowed to rest undisturbed. If you have an issue with that, the doctor keeps his office on the third floor. Take it up with him. Now, if you still feel the need to brag about your sudden decision to return to your duties, I suggest you find Adela. As your wife, it’s her job to take an interest in whatever you have to say. She’s at the guard keep, overseeing drill.” Lenette gave him a slow smile. “My daughter is a fine guard captain and a dutiful child, which is more than I can say for some.”

Josef’s hand moved toward the blade at his hip in a way that would make anyone who knew him at all dive for cover, but Lenette just smiled and stood up, carrying her pot of ground herbs to the tea service against the far wall.

“I must take the queen her medicine,” she said, tapping a spoonful of the ground leaves onto a silver mesh strainer before pouring a measure of hot water through the leaves into the cup below. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Prince Thereson?”

Josef turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Eli followed, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the queen’s lady-in-waiting smile as she blew on the steaming water. She was placing the cup on a serving tray when the door closed and Eli saw no more.

“Charming lady,” he said, running to catch up with Josef as the guards fell in beside them. “Has she always been like that?”

“Long as I’ve known her,” Josef answered with a growl.

“So, is she noble?” Eli said. “A cousin or something?”

“This is Osera, not Zarin,” Josef sneered. “We don’t marry our cousins. Lenette’s not even Oseran. She married into money, turned that into a court invitation, and then wormed her way into the queen’s favor. She’s been glued to mother’s side for as long as I can remember. People used to complain about a foreigner having so much power, but she’s been here so long now, I don’t think people even remember she’s not from the island.”

“Time changes many things,” Eli said. “Are you going to see your wife, then?”

“And prove Lenette right?” Josef said with a snort. “Not a chance. We’re going to use our time before court to look for Nico. I’d rather see her than Adela any day.”

Eli smiled. “I’m sure Nico would be delighted to hear that.”

“Why?”

“No reason,” Eli said, rubbing his forehead with a long, deep sigh. “Lead on.”

Josef shrugged and started walking faster. They ditched the guards on the next turn and went out on the rooftops to start their search.

After two hours of looking and nothing to show for it, Josef suddenly announced it was time to go to court. Tempting as it was, Eli resisted the urge to point out that they still had plenty of time before the ceremony began. For one, it might very well be time in Josef’s mind. He was famously insistent about showing up early. Two, Eli had lived with the swordsman long enough to know that you didn’t try reasoning with him when his face was set in that particular expression of cold rage.

As it turned out, it was good that they went down when they did. Despite being nearly an hour before court was scheduled to start, the throne room of Osera was already packed.

“I see you come by your predilection for early arrivals naturally,” Eli said, poking his head through a side door to survey the scene. “I think we’re the last ones here.”

Josef didn’t answer. He was standing by the door with his hands on his knives, looking suspiciously pale.

Eli poked him in the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Josef said, taking a deep breath. “It’s just been a while since I had to deal with this idiocy.”

Eli gaped at him. “Josef, you’re the wielder of the Heart of War. You’ve fought Berek Sted and the Lord of Storms. How can you be nervous about facing some nobles?”

“I’m not nervous,” Josef snapped. “I just need a moment.”

“It’s a room full of rich, soft, old men!” Eli cried. “It’s not an army.”

“I’d prefer an army,” Josef said. “You don’t know what those people are like. If they would fight me openly, everything would be fine. But they don’t. They just talk.”

Eli smiled and held up a finger. “Just relax and remember the first rule of thievery: Shown weakness is your only weakness. Go in there with your head held high and leave the talking to me. That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Josef released the death grip on his sword long enough to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Just promise me you won’t turn this into one of your overcomplicated Eli things,” he muttered. “Please.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eli said, taking Josef by the arm and steering him toward the door. “Chin up. Try to look princely.”

Josef nodded and set his features in the steely expression of a man bravely facing his own death. Eli grimaced, but didn’t comment. Bad as it was, it was better than the cold rage from earlier. He gave Josef a firm push, and the two of them walked into the hall.

The Oseran throne room had what Eli thought of as a paranoid setup, usually found in kingdoms with a violent history. It was all one large room with a row of narrow support columns forming a corridor up the middle, but rather than placing the throne on a free-standing platform as in Mellinor or other, more peaceable kingdoms, Osera’s throne was flush with the back wall, leaving no space for attack from the rear.

The throne room had no wings, but there was a gallery running around the upper level that was already full. Above the gallery, a line of thin windows carved the bright island sunlight into slices that struck the crowd at regular intervals, painting the hall in stripes of light. Down on the floor, the people were better dressed than in the gallery, but Eli saw none of the sort of ostentation normally found in the court of such a wealthy country. There was little jewelry to be seen, even on the older women. Dresses were muted colors, dark reds, greens, or navy. The men wore black almost exclusively, and everyone, even the women, was armed.

“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about the knives, now,” Eli whispered.

“What did you expect?” Josef said, pushing his way toward the throne. “This is Osera. They didn’t call my grandfather Bloody Liechten because of his contributions to the arts.”

Eli grimaced. Parts of Josef’s personality were becoming more understandable by the second.

“I’m surprised no one’s come up to you yet,” he said, looking around. People were certainly staring but, oddly, no one had made a move to approach their long-lost prince. In Eli’s experience, a prince, even an outcast runaway like Josef, was still someone who garnered favor currying by social climbers. These people seemed almost afraid.

Josef just shrugged. “They probably don’t recognize me. I’m a lot bigger than I was when I left.”

Eli kept his mouth shut about the likelihood of that explanation and focused on following the path Josef opened through the crowd.

As it happened, they made it all the way to the railing that separated the dais from the rest of the room without being approached. This close, Eli could see the throne easily. Like everything in the castle, the throne of Osera radiated age and deep-rooted authority. It was enormous, a naked stone bench wide enough to seat two men of Josef’s size with room to spare. The stone was the smooth, dove-gray rock of the mountain the castle sat on. It was carved with undulating patterns that mimicked the crashing sea so that whoever sat on the throne looked to be floating on a stone wave. A nice trick, all told, but the thing that really caught Eli’s attention wasn’t the throne itself, but the statues flanking it. Two enormous lions cast from midnight-black iron were anchored on either side of the throne. The lions stood rampant on their hind legs with their backs to the wall and their front paws reaching out to claw whoever defied Osera’s ruler.

“Throne of iron lions, indeed,” Eli whispered, leaning in to admire the delicate metalwork of their curling manes.

“What?” Josef said, looking up from his spot leaning against a support pillar.

Eli shook his head and set about studying the court instead. He scanned the people around them, trying to pick out Josef’s relatives from the crush. It proved harder than he’d thought it would be. Tall, blond, and grumpy seemed to be the motif among Oseran nobility. He’d never seen a sourer-faced crowd in his life.

“Josef,” Eli whispered. “Wasn’t Osera founded on piracy?”

“Among other things,” Josef said dryly.

Eli waved at the scowling crowd. “I thought pirates were supposed to be jolly.”

Josef made a sound in the back of his throat that reminded Eli of a ghosthound’s growl. “Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, but Osera doesn’t have a lot to be jolly about at the moment.”

“I don’t see that you were ever jolly,” Eli said, glancing again at the lions.

Josef followed his gaze. “Not much room for it,” he said quietly. “Osera has always been ruled by the strong. Has to be. The sea eats the soft and the weak. The lions are there to remind people of that.”

“Point taken,” Eli said. He was about to ask another question when Josef suddenly pushed off the pillar.

“Eyes front,” Josef said, pulling his jacket straight. “The queen’s coming.”

“But there’s still half an hour before court!” Eli protested.

“Why do you think everyone gets here early?”

Eli’s answer was drowned out by a peel of trumpets as a six squad of guards in full armor marched into the throne room. People scooted out of their way, clearing a wide swath down the middle. The guards walked the full length of the hall, peeling off in pairs to stand at attention before each pillar until they had formed an armed corridor from the door to the throne. When they were in position, the trumpets sounded again, and the room filled with the sweep of cloth and the creak of leather as everyone, nobles and servants, bowed in reverence as Queen Theresa herself entered the throne room.

The queen looked very different from the night before. Her white hair was pulled up beneath a plain, masculine crown of heavy gold. She was clothed in black, a widow’s mourning dress of stiff, raw silk. Her lined face looked pale and pinched, but she stood straight, walking on her own with one hand resting on the arm of the tall, lovely woman in armor walking beside her—Princess Adela, Josef’s wife.

The princess made an impressive sight. With her dark, glossy hair and bright silver armor, she shone like a beacon beside the queen’s dour black, an effect that was not lost on the crowd. People glanced up from their bows as the princess passed. Their faces were a mix of envy and adoration. More adoration than Eli had expected. With great care, Adela helped the queen up the dais stairs to the wide throne. Beside him, Eli felt Josef stiffen, but the swordsman said nothing as his wife helped his mother down to the hard stone bench. When she was settled, Adela stepped aside, leaving Theresa to survey her court.

Eli swallowed. The queen of Osera on her throne was an impressive sight indeed. The black of her dress shone from the gray stone like a rock among the waves. Above her, the lions’ extended paws framed her head like a second crown, a reminder of the power her position held, an ancient, bloody, visceral power that had nothing to do with the Council or Osera’s newfound wealth. Theresa’s pale eyes moved over the crowd, noting and dismissing each face until she found Josef’s.

“You,” she said, her voice echoing through the silent chamber. “Up here.”

Josef and Eli exchanged a final look, and then Josef pushed off the pillar, stepped over the railing, and climbed the stone steps to stand beside his mother.

“My son,” Theresa announced in a voice so harsh it made Eli wince. “Prince Josef Liechten Thereson Esinlowe, has returned from his travels to grace us with his presence one again.”

A murmur rose up from the crowd, and Josef shifted uncomfortably. Eli bit his lip, half expecting Josef to walk out, but he stayed rooted to the step beside the throne, glaring at the crowded room like he was daring them to do something about it.

“Last year,” the queen continued, “I declared the marriage of my son to Adela Theresa Reiniger, daughter of Lord Reiniger and his wife, the Lady Lenette, my dearest friend and lady of the chamber. Today, I reaffirm that bond.”

She beckoned, and Adela stepped forward, her hard-soled boots clacking against the stone until she was standing directly at the queen’s right. Theresa motioned again, and Josef reluctantly moved closer. Theresa took Adela’s hand and pressed it to Josef, who took it hesitantly. The queen smiled as the connection was made and gave them both a push.

“People of Osera,” she announced as Josef and Adela turned to face the room. “I give you your prince and princess. Through this union, the blood of the House of Eisenlowe shall flow to a new generation. May the strength of the Iron Lions breed true, and may the House of Eisenlowe never fall.”

Applause erupted throughout the court, but the noise rang hollow in Eli’s ears. No one looked particularly happy. Not the couple, and certainly not the party of large, blond gentlemen in rich suits standing across the aisle.

The room fell silent again as the queen raised a skeletal hand. “The royal couple will now perform the Proving,” she announced. “Clear the hall.”

“Clear the hall!” The cry went up as the guards began directing people to the edges of the room.

Eli glanced around in alarm. Up by the throne, the prince and princess separated without so much as a glance, Adela down the stairs toward the back of the room, Josef back toward Eli with a glum look.

“What’s the Proving?” Eli hissed when Josef reached him. “You didn’t say anything about any Proving.” He looked sideways at the large, clear space that had formed at the center of the room. “Is this like the first dance, or something? Is her father going to give her away?”

“Adela’s father is dead,” Josef said, plucking knives out of his clothes and handing them to Eli. “And the Proving is an old Oseran tradition.”

“Right,” Eli said, taking the knives with trepidation. “So like a dance with quaint folk music?”

“It’s not a dance,” Josef said, lifting the Heart from his back and setting it gently against the pillar. “It’s a duel.”

“A duel?” Eli said, more loudly than he would have liked. The comment drew several nasty looks from the people around them. Eli gritted his teeth and dropped his voice. “I thought you just got married?”

“We did,” Josef said, checking the short sword at his hip. “This is the next part of the ceremony. It’s the duty of all members of the royal family to protect Osera. So whenever someone in the family gets married, both husband and wife have to fight a demonstration duel to prove they are capable of holding the throne.”

“Holding the throne?” Eli said. “What century do you think this is? Are you going to drag her to the marriage chamber by her hair next?”

“Osera is an old country,” Josef said. “My grandfather nearly killed the woman who was to be his first wife. Stabbed her twice before sending her away for being too weak.”

“That’s horrible,” Eli cried.

Josef shrugged. “That’s how things are here. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt Adela. I’m just going scare her into an honorable surrender.” He grinned, patting the sword at his hip. “Shouldn’t take long.”

In anyone else, Eli would have called that remark arrogant, but this being Josef, Eli had to spot him that one. “Try not to embarrass her too badly,” he said. “Remember, our getting out of here depends on your mother getting her grandchild, and that’ll be a little difficult if your princess is making you sleep on the floor.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Josef said, walking through the parted crowd.

Eli bit his lip and followed, clutching Josef’s cast-off blades to his chest. Adela was waiting for Josef at the center of the makeshift dueling arena. She was flanked by two armored men, one young, one gray haired. Both looked unhappy, but the princess was smiling. She turned to her escorts and whispered something that made them smile as well before they stepped back, leaving her alone at her end of the cleared hall. The princess turned to face Josef as he moved to take his place opposite her, drawing her heavy short sword with a metal hiss as she took up her position. Josef drew his sword as well and stopped in a stance Eli recognized: first position, the root of swordsmanship.

The queen looked down on the combatants from her throne, her wrinkled face like a crumpled paper mask. Only her hands betrayed her true feelings. They were knotted in her lap, the heavy rings biting into the taut skin of her fingers as she lifted her chin.

“Begin.”

The word was scarcely out of her mouth before Josef sprang forward. The crowd gasped, and even Eli stepped back. Josef charged like an avalanche, enormous and unstoppable with his sword flipped in his grip, the flat of the blade already whistling down to strike Adela’s sword hand.

If Eli had not spent years watching Josef fight, he would have missed what happened next. As it was, he still wasn’t sure how it came about. One second, Josef was perfectly on target, the next, Adela was behind him, her feet turning neatly as she slid around his blade.

Josef turned as the lunge carried him past where her hand had been, throwing his weight to bring his sword up in time to catch hers before it landed in his back. Their blades crashed in a shower of sparks, and Josef stumbled at the impact. Eli caught his breath. They were fighting with infantry short swords, so they were very close. That left little time to react to a strike and less to dodge. Adela had done both and come around with a counter. He could see the same thoughts on Josef’s surprised face as he fell back, catching himself at the last moment with his free hand. The second his fingers touched the floor, he pushed up, forcing Adela back with his superior height and breaking their lock. The princess retreated neatly, letting her sword follow the force sideways and down for a blow at Josef’s side. But surprise attacks work only once. This time, Josef was ready. He parried her blow with a dip of his blade and stepped in, slamming his shoulder into her chest. Adela grunted and fell, landing hard on her back with a clatter of metal. Josef followed her as she went down, planting his feet on either side of her body and placing his sword’s point on her exposed neck.

Adela held up her hands immediately, and the crowd began to applaud. The duel was over. Josef had won. Josef stared at the downed princess a moment longer before swinging his sword away and offering his hand. Adela took it, and he pulled her up. The applause died down as they walked through the throne room and up the dais stairs to stand again before the queen.

“The proof has been made plain,” Queen Theresa announced, smiling widely as prince and princess took their places at her side. “Both have shown before all they can wield a sword in Osera’s name. The bond begun a year ago is now complete. Bow before your prince and princess.”

The room filled with the rustle of silk as the crowd obeyed. Eli bowed as well, but he kept his eyes on Josef. The swordsman had that look on his face, the one he got when he was extremely angry and trying to hide it.

As people began to raise their heads, the queen said something to Adela that Eli couldn’t hear. The princess nodded and motioned to someone down the steps. At once, Lenette appeared from the crowd and hurried to the queen’s side. Theresa reached for Lenette, and the lady-in-waiting pulled her up, supporting the queen by her shoulders. The princess and Josef turned to help, but the queen shook her head and firmly pointed for them to turn back and face the people. They obeyed, Adela more swiftly than Josef, as Lenette helped the queen hobble slowly down the dais steps and out a side door.

With the queen gone, court was over, and people began coming up to the royal couple to offer their congratulations. Josef shot Eli a look that would have been panic on anyone else’s face, and Eli, recognizing his cue, sprang into action, sliding deftly around the guards and up the dais stairs.

“Princess,” he said, dropping another, shallower bow as he fell in beside Josef. “Congratulations on your nuptials. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more succinct royal wedding.”

Adela gave him a skeptical look. “With war on the horizon, the queen saw no purpose in needless expense,” she said. “Osera is a practical country, Mr. Banage.”

Eli flinched in surprise before remembering the identity he’d chosen for this foray. Fortunately, the princess was too distracted to notice. She was already turning to greet the thin man with graying blond hair, a hawkish nose, and a stern expression very similar to Josef’s, who was the first to climb the stairs.

“Duke Finley,” Adela said, bobbing her head.

The man didn’t even look at her. His eyes were on Josef, looking the prince up and down with his hands on his hips.

“The wayward prince, back at last,” the duke said. “I suppose that means Osera is now mortgaged to whatever bounty hunter dragged you in?”

Josef stiffened. “There’s no hunter involved. I came back on my own.”

“Really?” the duke said. “Prince Thereson, doing his duty? That would be a first.”

He said this last bit over his shoulder to the well-dressed group standing behind him, many of whom laughed out loud at the duke’s daring. Josef clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward before Eli jabbed him hard in the small of the back.

“Do you think it is wise for you to speak so of the prince in the queen’s hall, Finley?”

Josef and Eli both blinked. The words had come from Adela, who was glaring at the duke like he was a pebble she’d found in her boot.

The duke sneered back. “No wiser than addressing the next king of Osera without his title, Adela.”

The princess’s scowl deepened, but Duke Finley wasn’t looking at her anymore. He leaned in to Josef, a smug smile on his face. “You’ve been gone awhile, cousin,” he said in a low voice. “One man to another, let me give you a little advice. Theresa thinks she can cling to her father’s throne even in death by marrying her failure of a son to the daughter of her favorite gold-digging maid, but you won’t last a day past the queen’s funeral. I am the named heir, but even if I weren’t, the people of Osera would never stand to have a common murderer as their king. The only reason they tolerate one as their prince is because of your mother. In any case, I wouldn’t get too comfortable, were I in your position.”

Eli winced. Though the duke’s voice was soft, the room around them had gone deathly still, and Eli had no illusions that the insult had somehow gone unheard. But before he could say anything to diffuse the situation, Josef opened his mouth and made it worse.

“I have no intention of being king,” he said. “Never have. As for me being a murderer…” Josef lifted his chin, and his hands drifted to the sword at his side. “You’re right. I’ve killed people. But I’m a swordsman, and so was every man I defeated. Death is something you learn to expect when you choose the life of the sword.”

“You’re quick to draw such a fine line,” the duke said, leaning back. “Must help you sleep at night.” He flashed the couple a final, thin smile and turned to walk back down the dais steps. “Congratulations on your marriage. I can’t think of two people who deserve each other more.”

Eli arched an eyebrow at the duke’s retreating back. “What a lovely individual.”

Josef grunted in reply, but Adela cast a cold eye at her husband. “Finley’s not the only one who thinks that way,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t speak so freely of the men you’ve killed, Prince Thereson.”

“I am not ashamed of what I am,” Josef said hotly.

“But others are,” Adela said. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Josef stared at her, but Adela was the picture of serenity as she turned and took the hand of the elderly lady who was next in line to wish the royal couple well.

It took almost two hours to greet all the nobility. They were arranged by rank, but Josef glowered at everyone equally, so it was quite fortunate that Adela was there to give the proper greeting to each noble before any offense could be taken.

After all the Oseran noble families had their say, the royal couple was shuffled down to the front gate to be announced before the crowd that had gathered in the square. The people cheered when Adela appeared, and she smiled and waved at them like a perfect princess. Beside her vibrant happiness, Josef looked like a looming vulture, hunched and dour, glaring at everything.

Eli watched the whole thing from the back, blithely ignoring the servant who was trying to convince him that he would be more comfortable waiting in his room. He tried sending Josef cues to lighten up, but Josef was too far gone in his dudgeon to notice, and Eli soon gave up in favor of watching Adela.

It was quite the show. The princess was the perfect mix of sweet shyness and hard Oseran duty with her long, glossy hair, pretty smiles, and shining armor. The crowd was mad for her. They cheered wildly, pressing against the guards. Adela smiled and waved back, looking down with becoming modesty whenever the people grew too wild. This, of course, only made the crowd cheer louder. It was a perfectly played performance. So perfect that Eli was beginning to wonder how long she’d practiced.

Finally, the presentation ended, and the royal couple was escorted back to the throne room. Josef looked like a ten-year veteran returning from the front as he walked over to the pillar to retrieve the Heart of War and the rest of his weaponry. Adela, on the other hand, was prettier than ever, with her cheeks glowing from the warmth of the crowd. She stopped a moment to greet the knot of royal guardsmen who were waiting at the throne room entrance, and then she excused herself and walked over to her husband. Josef stopped strapping swords to himself long enough to give her a questioning look.

“The queen asked that I give you a tour of the barracks,” she said, her voice almost shy. “In case you wanted to resume your duty as head of the Queen’s Guard.”

Josef wrinkled his nose. “Who’s head now?”

“I am,” Adela said.

“Impossible,” Josef said, getting back to the business of reattaching his weapons. “That’s a royal position, inherited by blood. Your father wasn’t even titled. How’d you end up with it?”

“Because your mother was too sick to do it herself and she didn’t trust Finley with her guards,” Adela said, putting her hands on her hips. “It should be the prince’s duty, but it’s not like you were here, was it?”

Josef stopped midstrap. “I get it, all right? I wasn’t here. I let people down. I’m a terrible prince. Message received, so you can all drop the guilt routine.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Adela said, crossing her arms. “You could try being a prince, at least in public.”

“I have tried,” Josef said, buckling his second sword back onto his hip. “Didn’t do me any good then, won’t do me any good now. I just want to get this over with and get on with my life.”

Adela gave him a scornful look. “Then I’ll see you tonight,” she said, turning on her heel. “And we can get on with getting this over with. Good afternoon, prince.”

Josef sighed. “Adela…”

But the princess was already walking away. Josef watched her go and then he turned and grabbed the Heart of War, slinging it on his back with so much force that Eli winced.

“You know,” Eli said as gently as he could, “she does have a point.”

“Shut. Up,” Josef said.

“It could be worse,” Eli went on. “At least you’re not stuck with some insipid court flower. I mean, despite the hobble of being married to you, she seems to be a popular princess. She’s certainly not bad to look at, not stupid, and we’ve all seen she’s a decent fighter.”

“That’s the thing,” Josef said, dropping his voice. “I can’t shake the feeling something was wrong with that duel.”

“Josef.” Eli tsked. “Calling foul just because she gave you a harder time than you expected isn’t very princely.”

“I’m not calling foul,” he said softly. “Adela and I were kids together, remember? We had the same sword instructor, and we dueled a lot. I knew she would be good. I just didn’t expect her to be that good.”

“That fast, you mean,” Eli said, lowering his voice to match Josef’s.

“It’s not even that,” Josef said, shaking his head. “She could have dodged that blow to the chest. I saw her feet start to move, but then she stopped. She let me win.”

Eli fought the urge to smile. “Maybe she didn’t want to embarrass you?”

“She’s not that good,” Josef grumbled, marching toward the door. “Come on. I need a drink.”

“But you don’t drink,” Eli said, running after him.

Josef started walking faster. “I do now.”

Eli left it at that and focused on keeping up with his swordsman. This was going to be some wedding night.

Two hours later, Josef had almost finished his one drink when a servant entered and told him his room was ready.

“I have a room,” Josef said, scowling up from where he sat on the floor with the Heart of War propped on his shoulder. “What do you think you just walked into?”

The servant flinched, and Eli gave him a sympathetic look from his spot on the bed, but he didn’t do anything to save the poor boy. In the five years he’d known Josef, he’d never seen him in such a foul mood. He was happy to let someone else take the heat for a bit.

“Forgive me, my lord,” the servant said at last, eying Josef’s knives, all of which had found their way back to their places on Josef’s body. “This secure chamber is for noble guests. I’ve been ordered to escort you to the rooms you will be sharing with your wife.”

Josef set his glass on the floor with a bitter sigh and stood up. The servant stepped aside as Josef walked out the door, but when Eli tried to follow, the man cut him off.

“I am sorry, sir,” he said. “The queen’s orders were that the prince was to go alone. Respect for his wedding night, you must understand.”

“Well, I would never disrespect a wedding night,” Eli said, glancing over the man’s shoulder. He caught Josef’s eyes and gave him the look they’d shared a thousand times: Do you want to get out? Josef shook his head, and Eli stayed put, watching from the doorway as the servant escorted Josef down the hall. When they disappeared around the corner, Eli stepped back into the room.

He picked up Josef’s half-empty glass from the floor and finished it in one long drink. He set the empty glass on the table and grabbed the bottle of spirits instead. He corked it tight and slid the bottle into his belt. When it was secure, he walked over to the window and hoisted himself up, sliding between the bars with practiced ease into the city night.