“Forgive me for waking you so early,” John said, though he hardly sounded apologetic. He was dressed in his finest, his tunic clean and his armor shining. Something about it put Nathaniel even more on edge. John looked as if he were going to march to war, and he’d not worn his armor since the first day he arrived at their mansion.
“It’s all right,” Nathaniel said. He didn’t move to leave his bed, though, instead sitting there, waiting, not even asking a question. John clearly wanted him to ask, to broach whatever subject needed discussed, but Nathaniel wouldn’t give it to him. There were so few reasons for John to be waking him, and with how cautious he was acting, how careful, it meant it was more than simple training or an interesting piece of gossip. His thoughts leaped to his mother, and he did his best to keep his lip from quivering as he anticipated hearing something dreadful.
“Nathan…” John paused again, crossed his arms. “Your mother has proven herself unfit for leadership, at least as of recently. I don’t mean to disparage her character, but I fear losing her eyesight has sunk her into a pit she needs to find a way to climb out of.”
“What did you do?” Nathaniel asked, unable to help himself. John looked offended at the unspoken accusation, and he sat up straighter and gave him a stern glare that made Nathan dip his head in respect.
“I did what needed to be done,” he said. “For the safekeeping of your family and your own future. No harm has come to your mother, I assure you, but for now, all important decisions involving your family’s wealth and that of the Trifect will be made by Lady Melody.”
At his grandmother’s name, Nathaniel pulled his blankets higher up on his chest. The idea of her in charge left him with chills. Her secretive talks of Karak … how secretive would they remain if the house was now under her control? Would he be able to avoid them any longer?
“You betrayed her,” Nathaniel said. This time, he did not wilt, despite the glare he received as John’s face gradually turned red. “Overthrew her for my grandmother.”
“This isn’t some sort of coup,” John said. “It’s only until she realizes this is what’s best. Your mother’s life is in no danger, Nathaniel, nor is her eventual rule. But Melody has just as much right as your mother, and right now, she’s the more capable head of the household.”
It sounded like shit to Nathaniel, just lies and shit, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to deal with the reprimand John would give him for using such language. Instead, he finally pushed aside his blankets and stepped onto the cold floor. A glance out his window showed the morning sun just barely rising above the walls of the city. He went to his dresser as John remained standing at the door.
“When can I see her?” Nathaniel asked as he pulled open a drawer and reached for a new shirt.
“You should talk to Melody first,” John said. “Listen to her and pay your respects. Once you do, I feel you’ll be in a more proper frame of mind when visiting your mother.”
“Do you have her locked up?”
John stood up a bit straighter.
“She’s being kept in a safe place, yes.”
Not a coup, thought Nathaniel. Of course not. Only his mother was imprisoned, someone new was in charge of his family’s affairs, and the whole thing was being reinforced by John Gandrem’s soldiers.
But not a coup.
“Can I eat first?” Nathaniel asked.
“Of course,” John said, and he opened the door to leave. The hard image he conveyed softened a bit, and some of the warmth that had made Nathaniel trust the man came forth. “Nathaniel … I understand this is difficult; I really do. But we live in a very harsh world, and those at the top are always in danger of being toppled by those beneath. I fear your mother’s decisions of late put everything your family has built in danger, and it would not be the first time, either. Now is not a time for rash decisions but for calm, careful planning and acceptance of the world as it currently is. Please remember this, and do not treat your grandmother harshly. All we do, in some way or another, is for you.”
He left, shutting the door behind him. Nathaniel wanted to scream and throw his chamber pot at the man, but he kept the reaction choked down. It wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t help anything. To them, he was but a child, and his worth was only in his last name and in the man he might grow up to be. Right now … right now he was a scared little boy who they hoped would not cause too much of a scene as Melody seized control. Perhaps John was right. Perhaps he should just do his best to get along, to make sense of things, to see it from their point of view.
Despite the light streaming through his slender window, much of his room was still dark. Nathaniel pulled off his old shirt and slid on the new one, and as he pushed his head through the collar, he nearly screamed at the sight of Zusa crouching right in front of him, her body bathed in shadow.
“Shhhh,” Zusa said, shoving her hand over his mouth and holding him close. Her eyes darted to the door, and she tensed to see if somehow any had sensed her arrival despite Nathaniel having not made a sound. When it was clear no one was at all aware, she pulled back her hand and then kissed him atop the forehead.
“I am so glad you are safe,” she whispered. “I feared the worst when John’s men began spreading the news of Melody’s control.”
“I don’t think they’ll hurt me,” Nathaniel said.
“I don’t think they will, either,” Zusa said. “It’s your mother I fear for. If she’s to have any hope, we must act now.”
Her haste, her desperation made sense to Nathaniel. John had often drilled into him the importance of time, of how each day a man sat on a throne strengthened people’s belief that it was his, no matter his birthright or claim.
“What will you do?” Nathaniel asked. “Kill them all?”
He’d meant it as a bitter joke, a way to convey to Zusa his inability to see what she might accomplish on her own. The way her face darkened and the sheer stubborn ferocity he saw in her eyes made him think twice.
“They have her held in the mansion’s old cells,” she said. “At least a dozen soldiers bar the way, more than I fear I can handle on my own. But your mother has allies outside the household, Lord Victor in particular. I would ask for his help first before I try assaulting John’s fighting force alone.”
“Then why haven’t you gone to him already?” he asked. “Leave me. I’m safe here.”
Zusa shook her head.
“Time is of the essence, little one. Each passing day strengthens Melody’s claim. I need Lord Victor to act without alerting John or Melody to his possible interference. That means I need someone he’ll trust more than myself, without question, without hesitation. That’s you, Nathaniel. Your testimony will push him to action; now, are you ready? Doing so puts your life in danger, more so than if you remained behind.”
In the end, it was no decision, only a matter of finding the necessary bravery. Deep in his heart, he knew his mother had earned far better loyalty and respect than to have her household stolen away from her in the deep of night. He would not sit idly by in a comfortable prison while his mother’s only true friend risked her life to free them.
“All right,” he said. “Tell me what to do.”
She took his hand in hers and crouched down so her beautiful brown eyes could stare into his.
“Hold on,” she said, “and trust me.”
Zusa grabbed his blanket with her other hand, pulling it off the bed. Together, they moved into the corner of the room, and she held the blanket above them, blotting out what morning light could reach them. He felt her hand tighten, sensed the woman tense.
“This will be … uncomfortable,” Zusa said. “Once we’re outside, there’s no turning back. No matter what, run where I tell you to run, and do not once stop. No one will hurt you, but they’ll hurt me, and I have no intention of leaving you behind.”
“I understand,” he said.
“I pray you do, Nathan. Close your eyes. It helps lessen the discomfort.”