Only, I was apparently still a ways from being left alone. Ysabel was standing outside my bedroom, arms crossed. Apparently, my earlier suspicions had been right. She really did hang out in the hall waiting for me.
“No magic lessons,” I told her.
“Magic lessons?” she exclaimed, straightening up. She was as immaculate as ever, her red hair twisted into myriad braids. “I’m never teaching you anything again. My lord is sending me away-and all because of you!”
The land might have healed me, but there were only so many weird revelations I could handle today. Jasmine becoming my ally currently held the lion’s share. “What are you talking about?”
“My lord is on his way,” she hissed. “And he sent word that I was to pack up my things and be prepared to leave. He has a small group of guards ready to escort me away.”
“So?” I shrugged, eyeing my door longingly. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
She took a step toward me. “He’s not sending me back to the castle. He’s sending me back to my village-back to my children. Don’t you understand? He’s through with me! He’s casting me aside because of you!”
The anger and hate on her face made me guess she’d forgotten I could suffocate her. As it was, she was in my personal space so much that I feared she might actually attempt physical blows. I wanted to tell her that Dorian casting her aside had little to do with me. That was just Dorian’s way. Shaya had said Ysabel was one in a string of mistresses who resembled me. He’d grown tired of her, just like the rest, but that wasn’t my fault.
Telling her that wouldn’t help, though. “I’m sorry. But, I mean, won’t you be glad to see your kids?”
“Glad?” she cried. “What do I have to give them? What do I have to show for my time at court? I have nothing. I came to Dorian’s court to improve my children’s lives-to bring us wealth. Now I have to return empty-handed, tossed aside to our backwoods village.”
Ouch. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know whether to laud a mother’s attempts to improve her kids’ lives or look down on someone who’d tried to do it via sleeping with a king.
“I’m sorry,” I said wearily. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”
I started to turn away, and to my astonishment, she grabbed my shoulder and spun me toward her. I think she’d been about to hurl an insult, but I gave her no chance. I still wasn’t ready to be touched, and she’d caught me off guard. With no second thoughts, my instincts summoned up magic, the air shoving her away from me and slamming her-hard-into a wall. She stood there, dazed, and I gasped, horrified at what I’d brutally done without even thinking. I really was turning into my father’s daughter.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping toward her when she didn’t move.
She jerked away from me, which I hoped meant no concussion. “This isn’t over. I will never forgive you for taking him from me! I’ll make you pay. He’s mine. Do you understand? Mine.”
This was followed by a whole tirade of ranting and insults about how much she hated me and would see me destroyed. She kept her distance, though, so apparently my brief lapse into violence had done some good. After a while, I had no patience for it and simply went into my bedroom, leaving her out there. I locked the door but could still hear her going on and on.
Remembering Rurik saying that I should go out and talk to the people who could possibly be dying for me, I tried to distract myself from Ysabel by looking through the room’s closet. I figured I should probably wear something gentry, and Nia had kept me well-stocked. The spark was rekindling in me, that need to take revenge against Leith and show Katrice we couldn’t be pushed around. I would prove a strong leader for those out there. I was pulling out a silvery blue silk dress that looked suitable when Ysabel’s shouting finally stopped. With a sigh of relief, I started to drape the dress over a chair-and caught a glimpse out the small window.
There was an army out there.
I immediately backed away, trying to block out the sea of faces encamped outside. I dropped the dress, feeling dizzy. The reality of it all hit me, and I again felt helpless and out of my league. A sharp knock sounded on the door, momentarily breaking through my panic. Anger was an easier emotion to deal with, and I hurried over, yanking the door open.
“Look, I told you there’s nothing I can do about-”
I stopped. It wasn’t Ysabel outside my door.
It was Dorian.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Oh,” I said lamely, stepping aside so that he could enter. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Someone in a velvet dress shrieking at the top of her lungs?” he asked. He moved past me in that graceful way of his, and I noticed he was careful to keep a healthy distance between us without being asked, as though he suspected my aversion to touch.
“Something like that.” I shut the door.
He shrugged and immediately found the room’s wine. “She won’t bother you anymore,” he said, pouring a cup. “I’m sending her away.”
“Yeah, she told me. You know, I feel kind of bad for her.”
“Stop,” he ordered. “She’s none of your concern. She should have had no expectations about her relationship with me.”
“Yeah, well, she kind of did.”
“Again, one angry person is none of your concern-not with everything else going on.”
I grimaced. “I suppose not, though it sure seems like a lot of people are angry at me-oh. God. I nearly forgot. Do you have Volusian?”
Dorian was setting his sword and cloak down. He didn’t look happy at the reference. “Yes…I enslaved him to me.”
“Can I…can I have him back?”
He eyed me. “Are you sure that’s what you want? It’d be better if we banished him together.”
I hesitated, recalling Volusian’s hands on my throat and knowing what would happen if I ever lost control again. I wouldn’t, though. I would stay strong, and I needed him for what was to come. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I want him back.”
Dorian shrugged. “Then I’ll summon him later. Let’s not ruin the moment just yet. He’s quite depressing, you know.” Dorian strolled toward the window and bent over, picking up the dress I’d dropped. “This is lovely.”
“I was going to put it on, but…but…” I swallowed and nodded toward the window. “There’s a, um, army out there.”
He neatly laid the dress on the chair and glanced out the window. “Yes. Yes, there is. Yours and mine. Well, part of them.”
“I can’t believe this happened.”
“Hiding from them won’t make them go away.”
“I kind of hoped it would.”
He said nothing but gave me an expectant look. Something about it drew me out, and steeling myself up, I approached the window again, staring out at the wide, sandy stretch in the back of the castle.
There were so many more than I’d expected-and this was only allegedly a portion of the soldiers that would be fighting Katrice. My small army in their mismatched attire stood in formation on one side. Dorian’s “reserves” stood beside them, much more sharply dressed in deep green shirts under their leather armor and golden oak emblems. So many…and again, still not the whole force. More of his soldiers would join up, and then my numbers would grow when the call went out throughout the land when I went to Highmore-if I went there.
“All of this,” I murmured, “all of this because of a chain of decisions. Me refusing Leith, him kidnapping me, you…” I couldn’t finish the words, but Dorian and I both knew what I’d been about to say.
“Do you regret it?” he asked. “What I did?” He sounded as cool and confident as ever, but I could have sworn there was a tiny note of fear in his voice-fear that he’d done something I hadn’t wanted.
Kiyo’s words about how I would regret all this came back to me, and I kept wondering if it was really worth it, all these men and women who might die…for what? For my honor? My revenge? I could still respond to Katrice’s message, tell her I’d marry her nephew and make peace….