Cinder did her best to look friendly. “Thank you for welcoming us. I’m afraid we’ve put you into a lot of danger by coming here.”
Maha stood a little straighter, still wary.
Thorne had his hands in his pockets, as if he was afraid to touch anything. “Will your husband be home soon?”
Maha stared at him.
“We don’t want any surprises,” Cinder added.
Maha pursed her lips. She looked at Wolf, and Cinder knew. Wolf tensed.
“I’m sorry, Ze’ev,” said Maha. “He died four years ago. There was an accident. At the factory.”
Wolf’s expression gave away nothing. Slowly, his head bobbed with acceptance. He’d seemed more surprised to see his mother alive than to learn of his father’s death.
“Are you hungry?” said Maha, burying her shock. “You were always hungry … before. But I suppose you were a growing boy then…”
The words hung between them, filled with a lost childhood, so many years.
Wolf smiled, but not enough to show his sharp canine teeth. “That hasn’t changed much.”
Maha looked relieved. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and bustled toward the kitchen. “Make yourselves comfortable. I think I might have some crackers.”
Twenty-Five
Jacin felt heavy with dread as he entered the throne room. The seats reserved for the members of the court were empty. Only the queen sat on her throne, with Aimery at her side. Not even their personal guards were with them, which meant that whatever this meeting was about, Levana didn’t trust anyone to know of it.
Cress, he thought. She knew about Cress. He’d been hiding her in his private quarters, keeping her safe like he’d promised Winter he would, but he knew it couldn’t last forever.
How had Levana found out?
A screen had been brought into the room, a large flat netscreen like the ones they used for two-dimensional Earthen media, only this one was more elaborate than anything Jacin had seen on Earth. It was set on an easel and framed in polished silver, bands of roses and thorns surrounding the screen as if it were a piece of art. The queen sparing no expense, as usual.
Queen Levana and Thaumaturge Park both wore dark expressions as Jacin came to a stop and clicked his heels together, trying not to think of the last time he’d stood in this spot. When he was sure he would be killed, and Winter would have to watch.
“You summoned, My Queen?”
“I did,” Levana drawled, running her fingers over the arm of her throne.
He held his breath, racking his brain for some way he could explain Cress’s presence that didn’t incriminate Winter.
“I have been thinking a great deal about our little dilemma,” said the queen. “I desire to put my trust in you again, as I did when you were under Sybil’s care, yet I haven’t been able to convince myself that you serve me. Your queen. And not…” She whisked her fingers through the air, and her beautiful face took on something akin to a snarl. “Your princess.”
Jacin’s jaw tensed. He waited. Waited for her to accuse him of sheltering a known traitor. Waited for his punishment to be declared.
But the queen seemed to be waiting too.
Finally he dipped his head. “All due respect, Your Majesty, my becoming Princess Winter’s guard was your decision. Not mine.”
She shot him a sultry look. “And how very upset you seemed about it.” Sighing, Levana rose to her feet and walked behind Winter’s usual chair. She smoothed her fingers along the top of the upholstery. “After much deliberation, I have devised a test of sorts. A mission to prove your loyalty once and for all. I think, with this mission completed, there will be no qualms about placing you back into the service of my head thaumaturge. Aimery is eager to have your skills under his command.”
Aimery’s eyes glinted. “Quite.”
Jacin’s brows knit together and it dawned on him slowly that this wasn’t about Cress at all.
He would have felt relief, except, if it wasn’t about Cress …
“I told you before of my promise to my husband, Winter’s father,” Levana continued. “I told him I would protect the child to the best of my ability. All these years, I have held to that promise. I have taken care of her and raised her as my own.”
Though he tried, Jacin could not stifle a surge of rebellion at these words. She had raised Winter as her own? No. She tortured Winter by making her attend every trial and execution, though everyone knew how she hated them. She had handed Winter the knife that disfigured her beautiful face. She had mocked Winter relentlessly for what she saw as her mental “weaknesses,” having no idea how strong Winter had to be to avoid the temptation of using her glamour, and how much willpower it had taken her to suppress it over the years.
A wry smile crept over Levana’s bloodred lips. “You do not like when I speak of your darling princess.”
“My queen may speak of whomever she pleases.” The response was automatic and monotone. It would make no difference to try to deny he cared for Winter, not when every person in this palace had witnessed their childhood antics, their games, and their mischief.
He’d grown up beside Winter because their fathers were so close, despite how improper it was for a princess to be climbing trees and playing at sword fights with the son of a lowly guard. He remembered wanting to protect her even then, even before he knew how much she needed protecting. He also remembered trying to steal a kiss from her, once—only once—when he was ten and she was eight. She laughed and turned away, scolding him. Don’t be silly. We can’t do that until we’re married.
No, his only defense was to pretend he didn’t care that everyone knew it. That their taunts didn’t bother him. That every time Levana mentioned the princess, his blood didn’t turn to ice. That he wasn’t terrified Levana would use Winter against him.
Levana stepped off the raised platform. “She has been given the best tutors, the finest clothes, the most exotic of pets. When she makes a request of me, I have tried my best to see it done.”
Though she paused, Jacin did not think she was expecting a response.
“Despite all this, she does not belong here. Her mind is too weak for her to ever be useful, and her refusal to hide those hideous scars has made her a laughingstock among the court. She is making a mockery of the crown and the royal family.” She set her jaw. “I did not realize the extent of her disgrace until recently. Aimery offered his own hand in marriage to the girl. I could not have hoped for a better match for a child who has no royal blood.” Her tone became snarling and Jacin felt her studying him again, but he’d recaptured control of himself. She would get no rise from him, not even on this topic.
“But, no,” said the queen at last. “The child refuses even this generous offer. For no other reason, I can fathom, than to jilt my most worthy counselor and bring further humiliation on this court.” She tilted her chin up. “Then there was the incident in AR-2. I trust you remember?”
His mouth turned sour. If he had not been so careful to hide his mounting dread, he would have cursed.
“No?” Levana purred when he said nothing. “Allow me to spark your memory.”
Her fingers glided across the netscreen. It flickered to life inside its elaborate frame, showing footage of a quaint little row of shops. He saw himself, smiling at Winter. Nudging her with his shoulder, and letting her nudge him back. Their eyes taking glimpses of each other when the other wasn’t looking.
His chest felt hollowed out. Anyone could see how they felt about each other.
Jacin watched, but he didn’t have to. He remembered the children and their handmade crown of twigs. He remembered how beautiful Winter had looked as she put it on her head, unconcerned. He remembered ripping it away and stuffing it into the basket.