Shadow Heir
Page 9

 Richelle Mead

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“You look good,” Roland said, giving me a head-to-toe assessment. He would never let on to it in front of everyone else, but I knew he was checking me for scrapes and bruises the same as he would if I was ten years old. Whenever he was in the Otherworld, he also had a tendency to ignore everyone else and only talk to me.
“So do you,” I said. Roland had gone gray but was still lean and muscled, ready for anything that came his way. Tattoos of whorls and fishes adorned his arms, and I took comfort in their familiarity.
“Your, uh, creature said you wanted to talk to me?”
“I do.” Glancing around, I saw that between my soldiers, Dorian’s guards, and Roland’s escort, we’d gathered quite a crowd. Dorian followed my gaze and guessed my thoughts.
“Perhaps we should go inside where we can speak more privately,” he said, automatically inviting himself along. A glint of surprise flashed in Roland’s eyes, but there was no real reason Dorian couldn’t hear what was being discussed.
“I went to your other place first,” Roland told me as we walked toward the castle. “The guards there explained where you were at and brought me here.” I couldn’t help a smile at his use of “your other place.” The idea of me being a queen was still unsettling for Roland, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to say “your kingdom.”
“Then you’re fortunate,” said Dorian. “This is a much more pleasant land to meet in than that desert wasteland Eugenie usually prefers to spend her time in.”
Roland glanced around, taking in the lush greenery, warm breezes, and singing birds. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think I like the other one better. This one’s kind of boring.”
“Typical,” scoffed Dorian. “Like father, like daughter.”
Roland wouldn’t admit as much in mixed company, but I knew the comment pleased him. If things hadn’t turned out as they had with my Otherworldly involvement, Roland would’ve been content to ignore my biological heritage for the rest of my life. Blood and the Storm King prophecy meant nothing to him. I had been Roland’s daughter for years, and as far as he was concerned, that’s how it still was.
The three of us sat down in a small parlor that still bore the signs of its previous owner’s taste in decorating, mainly a lot of doilies and paisley prints. Being “trapped” indoors made Roland uneasy, and he shifted uncomfortably, literally on the edge of his lion-footed velvet chair. Quickly, I explained to him what had happened in Ohio. As he listened, his face grew darker, and all his discomfort at being behind gentry walls faded as his concern shifted to me.
“Damn,” he muttered. “I’d had such a good feeling about that one too. How did they find it? There’s no way they can have spies in every part of our world.”
“They’re pretty good at having spies everywhere in this world,” I pointed out. “We know they regularly watch the borders of my kingdoms—and Dorian’s—to track my movements. I’m just usually too well guarded for them to do anything. My guess is someone tracked me to the gate that led to Hudson, and from there, they just staked the town out until they figured out my patterns.” It still irked me that pulling that off was something Mainwenn and Kiyo’s spies would’ve had to have done over a long period of time—and I’d never noticed.
“So we need to find another doctor,” said Roland. I could already see the wheels spinning in his head as he assessed various locations and what he knew of their Otherworldly connections.
“Well, that’s up for debate,” interjected Dorian. “These human doctors keep telling her she’s fine and healthy. Why does she need to keep seeing them then?”
“To ensure she stays healthy,” said Roland evenly. “No offense, but I’m not leaving her in the hands of your medieval medicine.”
“I doubt Eugenie appreciates the thought of any of us making decisions for her.” That almost made me scoff. Dorian was notorious for making “helpful” decisions on my behalf, so it was comical that he’d now take the high ground about my independence.
“Enough,” I said. “Both of you. Dorian has a point—I have been getting healthy reports. But ... it’s hard for me to entirely let go of modern medicine.”
“‘Modern’ indeed,” said Dorian dismissively.
“Easy enough to talk healthy now,” said Roland. “But childbirth’s an entirely different matter. You’ll want our doctors then. You don’t know what can happen.”
“Given birth to lots of children, have you?” asked Dorian.
“What’s your infant mortality rate around here?” returned Roland. I saw Dorian flinch ever so slightly. Once they were adults, gentry were extremely healthy and hard to kill. Infants were another matter, and that—coupled with the difficulties gentry had conceiving—made having children in general pretty difficult.
“It’s irrelevant if she gets herself killed with all this world crossing!” exclaimed Dorian in a rare show of frustration. “If she stays put here and doesn’t venture out of her lands, she’ll be safe.”
I could see Roland starting to get almost as worked up as Dorian. “Putting aside the medical part for a moment, she’s hardly safe with her enemies right on her doorstep. Even if she is in her own ‘lands,’ how long do you think those bastards will leave her alone once they realize she’s holing up here?” The “right on her doorstep” part reminded me of Ilania’s invitation to the Yew Land and arguments about how I’d be safer once I wasn’t actually sharing borders with Maiwenn. I had no intention of accepting that invitation, but Roland’s words still drove home the same truth. Staying here might not be wise either.
I expected Dorian to come back with one of his stinging remarks and escalate things further with Roland. It was simply Dorian’s nature, plus this was an issue he felt passionately about. I was about to silence them both when Dorian took a deep breath and said, “Look, I don’t want to pick a fight with you. I respect you too much, and at the heart of this, our goals are the same. We both just want her safe.”
Roland’s blue eyes narrowed as he sized Dorian up. I caught my breath, wondering what Roland’s response would be. Agreeing with a gentry was not his normal operating procedure.
“Agreed,” Roland said at last. “We do want the same thing. Arguing methods is counterproductive.”
I exhaled and stared at both men in astonishment. Contrary Dorian and stubborn Roland ... in agreement? If not for the fact that threats on my life were the source of their accord, I would’ve reveled in this as a landmark moment of gentry and human peace. Unsurprisingly, this tranquil interlude couldn’t last. Guards burst into the room, with Pagiel right beside them. It was almost a repeat of last week at Dorian’s, and I half expected Ysabel to be in tow, ready with some new bitchy comment. Pagiel’s expression told me, however, that something much direr was at stake.
“What’s wrong?” Dorian and I asked in unison.
Pagiel’s face grew grim, and I had a feeling he was trying very hard to behave in a calm and controlled manner. A glint in his eye suggested his outrage was so great that he just wanted to burst out with it. “Ansonia,” he said.
I cast a quick, questioning glance at Dorian to see if this made any sense to him. His puzzled look said he was just as much in the dark as I was. Pagiel’s sister had left shortly after the wedding, and I’d hardly talked to her while she was here.
“What about her?” I asked.
“She was attacked this morning by Willow Land riders on the outskirts of the Oak Land, on her way to see our grandmother.”
That got Dorian’s attention. He leaned forward. “The Oak Land? My Oak Land?” As if there was any other.
“Was she alone?” I asked.
Dorian stood up, his face as furious as Pagiel’s. “It’s irrelevant. Alone or not, a young girl should be able to ride the length and breadth of my kingdom without feeling threatened by any brigand—let alone militants from another kingdom! Maiwenn has gone too far. This is an act of war! This is—”
“Is the girl okay?” asked Roland, his quiet voice cutting through Dorian’s outrage. At first, Dorian looked offended at the interruption, but then he—like me—seemed to realize that we all probably should’ve asked that immediately.
Pagiel nodded and took another steadying breath before continuing. “She’s with a healer now and is recovering. Maiwenn’s people beat her up pretty badly but were interrupted when some passing merchants noticed what was happening. By that point, the attackers realized they’d made a mistake and were ready to flee anyway.”
Something twisted in the pit of my stomach. “What do you mean ‘made a mistake’? What was their intent?”
Pagiel’s face was still hard and angry, but I was pretty sure I caught the faintest glimpse of apology in his eyes at what he had to say next. “They had no actual interest in her personally, Your Majesty. They attacked her because ... because they thought she was you.”
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.”