Sworn to Sovereignty Read online

  Ciardis’s head snapped up. “Yes. We will.”

  “I need quiet, Companion Weathervane,” the healer said flatly. “And from what I’ve heard about you, you’ll bring about the very opposite. I promise your brother is in excellent hands.”

  “That is not good enough,” Ciardis said with arms crossed. “I have already lost one family member to this labyrinthine palace. I won’t lose another.”

  The healer blinked and then glanced over at the prince heir.

  Sebastian shrugged as if to say ‘you’re on your own’.

  The hassled healer turned back to Ciardis and said, “I understand you’re worried for your brother’s safety. I understand you’ve had a trying night, but I promise you that my bond spell from the emperor prevents me from harming him. You have a lot more pressing matters to attend to.”

  Ciardis narrowed her eyes.

  “More pressing than my twin lying on his death bed?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Yes,” the healer said.

  “And how would you know about these pressing matters?”

  The healer snorted. “The entire court knows. The emperor has not been exactly subtle about his search for all family and friends related to one Ciardis Weathervane in your absence.” He gestured at Caemon. “This one, I’m told, he found early on. It was the female that gave him the most trouble.”

  Ciardis stiffened. “Female?”

  “Trouble?” asked Sebastian at the same time.

  The healer nodded vigorously. “Some elite warrior, or so I heard. Gave him a heck of a slip, hiding in plain sight, until the emperor threatened the boy here. She tried killing the emperor in a public audience chamber when he did that. Didn’t go well.”

  Ciardis blanched. That sounded like Vana.

  “Where is she?” Ciardis asked in a harsh tone. “Where is he keeping her?”

  The healer pulled a blanket out of his satchel and laid it over Caemon carefully. “He let her go. Yesterday, after word reached the courts that you were on your way back.”

  “Let her go?” Sebastian said incredulously.

  “I’m told the emperor has a peculiar sense of humor,” the healer said dryly. “Besides, he didn’t let her go without a very painful lesson.”

  Ciardis sucked in a sharp breath.

  The healer paused and considered his next words carefully. “I don’t know where she went, but the story goes that she limped out of the palace main gates on her own two feet. White as a sheet.”

  Sebastian and Ciardis exchanged surprised glances.

  Could he have really let her go? Ciardis wondered in amazement.

  The healer shrugged and cast a lifting spell on Caemon. An invisible platform seemed to float beneath the male Weathervane like a bed. Ciardis glanced in surprise at Sebastian, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t object to the flashy magic.

  “So like I said,” the healer suggested. “You’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.”

  Sebastian looked down his long aristocratic nose at the man hunched over the young man who would be become his brother-in-law.

  “Your word that you will keep him safe,” the prince heir commanded. “As a healer, as a citizen, as a mage.”

  The man looked at the prince heir with nothing but respect in his eyes. “You have it, but it’s not necessary. There’s nothing I could do here that the emperor hasn’t already done himself.”

  Ciardis grimaced. She didn’t want to leave Caemon behind, but they had no choice.

  They had to find Vana Cloudbreaker. To find out what was going on and what had happened to her.

  What was happening to them all.

  Because as far as Ciardis Weathervane could see, they were drowning in a cesspool and only the emperor seemed to be rising above the muck. Every time.

  10

  The healer left the room through a side door that was concealed as a wall panel. Caemon floated silently behind him.

  Ciardis wanted to protest but couldn’t, so she looked away and up at the domed sky above them to take her thoughts away from Caemon. She searched the round ceiling, hands on her hips. It was actually quite pretty. The entire ceiling was made of a clear glass except for the golden gilt designs inlaid into the crystal structure. Designs that mimicked the exact path of the stars that rose above them.

  Ciardis focused on that instead of an overwhelming sadness that was threatening to unleash pesky tears down her cheeks.

  But she wouldn’t let them flow. Not now.

  She was tired. Tired and ashamed that she couldn’t do more, be more, but she also knew that self-recrimination wouldn’t do anything for her in the here and now.

  Or as Vana was likely to say, “Feel sorry for yourself on your own time.”

  Ciardis took a deep breath, and carefully opened and closed her eyes. Blinking away the tears.

  Shutting away the pain as the stars took her worries. The light they returned from the heavens gave her life.

  When she had control over her emotions she looked back down. Sebastian was standing in front of her.

  His face was sympathetic but strong. Ciardis knew that he would have caught her if she faltered, emotionally or physically. And that is why she had chosen him.

  His strength was in more than his physical or magical power. It was in his compassion.

  And right now, the prince heir of the realm looked anything but compassionate. He looked fierce and determined. Which is what she needed to be. Unstoppable. Impenetrable.

  They had friends to rescue. Family to save. A war council to assemble…again.

  Ciardis sighed. “Ready?”

  “As always,” he replied as he brandished the sword that had found its way back into his hands after they had attended to Caemon’s wounds.

  Ciardis’s pained smile mirrored his grimace. She gestured at the sword. “What’s that for?”

  “For any guards who don’t know to stay out of our way. They may not have seen which way we went, but they’ll certainly see us coming this time.”

  She nodded. What else was there to say, after all?

  They left the room, blood pooled in a haphazard pattern behind them, and took their first look at the destruction they had left in their wake the first time they had run through the palace corridors.

  Sebastian looked around with a critical eye. “Not bad,” he said.

  “Not bad?” Ciardis asked as she looked around with a bit of awe in her voice.

  Dodging fallen bits of plaster and resisting the urge to correct the dangerous tilts of priceless paintings on the walls, she continued, “The land responded to your call like never before. It came roaring through the palace like a dog to heel.”

  Sebastian traced a broken ornament hanging from a thin wire that was spinning in the middle of the hallway they were walking through. Ciardis could see that it was a lion rampant. Or rather was. Half the paws were missing, but it was still clear what it represented. The Algardis Empire and the imperial family in all their prime.

  “Yes, it did,” said Sebastian with regret in his tone as he looked around at the broken palace walls.

  Ciardis took note of the change in his voice.

  As they started down the staircase, on the opposite side of the one they had raced up before because it was much worse off, she commented, “You know I can’t say you saved a life necessarily by doing what you did, because we don’t know that Maradian wanted to kill Caemon, but I will say it was necessary to do what you did.”

  “We can repair the walls, Ciardis,” Sebastian said as he took the final step down to the lower floor. “But what about trust? What about all the people that I hurt running through these very walls?”

  Ciardis swallowed harshly and she put a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t regret what you suspect, Sebastian. Let’s find out for ourselves who was hurt, who needs aid.”

  He said bitterly as he started walking forward again, “Do we even have time? We came here for Vana Cloudbreaker, who in case you haven’t heard is not here.
She may be hurt in an alley somewhere, desperate for aid. She is the person who needs our aid.”

  Ciardis tightened her grip and spun him around. Before he could back away, she put both of her hands on his jawline and held him fiercely.

  “You don’t know that. But what you do know is this: Vana’s alive,” Ciardis said, her voice trembling. “And we will find her. But we will not become the monsters that our emperor has become. We will not sacrifice one individual for the sake of another. We will not walk over their bodies as we seek to find another. We can’t. We’re better than that.”

  Sebastian lifted an eyebrow and a spark that died came back to life in his brilliant emerald green eyes.

  “How do you know?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Know what?” she asked softly.

  Ciardis heard voices emerging from the other side of a door they had yet to open.

  She ignored them. So did he.

  “That we’re better than that. Better than my uncle,” Sebastian said, his voice choked with emotion.

  Ciardis could tell as she searched his eyes that this meant everything to him.

  So she answered him as solemnly as she could. “Because I am. And I would never choose a partner who was lesser than I.”

  Sebastian laughed and choked back a sob as he leaned forward to rest a weary head on her forehead. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

  She whispered softly as she forced him to lift his head back up, “Yes.”

  She shook her head playfully with a lilt in her voice as she continued, “It is always about me.”

  Sebastian smiled and leaned forward. Ciardis raised up on her toes and they kissed.

  The kiss was unhurried, both sweet and passionate at the same time. She didn’t want it to end.

  She wanted a moment that would last forever. That would block away all the ills of the world.

  And for a moment, in that place and time, it did.

  When they broke apart, it wasn’t long before the sounds of voices from other palace occupants became incessant. Ciardis stepped back.

  Sebastian gave her a rueful grin. “Regretting that kiss?”

  “Regretting being where we are,” Ciardis said with a roll of her eyes. She knew he was joking; he could feel her internal joy just as well as she could feel his. That was what it meant to be bonded. A bond with hesitation. Without reservation.

  Ciardis briefly thought about Thanar, wishing they too could share such a bond. But that depth of compatibility relied on more than just passion. It relied on trust, on love, and on strength of character.

  All of which the daemoni prince was sorely lacking.

  Sebastian cleared his throat and held out the crook of his arm.

  “Shall we go, my princess?” the prince heir asked gamely.

  She tossed her head and took his arm. “Do we have a choice?”

  He looked at her seriously. “Always.”

  Ciardis sighed and patted his arm. “That is where you and I differ. You would compromise your integrity for my happiness. I would never allow you do that, though.”

  Sebastian hummed. “One day you might not have a choice.”

  Then the doors opened and they had no more time to chat.

  ‘Opened’ was a generous characterization, Ciardis thought.

  One door had fallen directly off its hinges after a mighty kick from the opposite side. The other swung wildly around and came to an uneasy rest against the hole-ridden opposite wall.

  The prince heir and his companion eyed the group on the other side of the doorway.

  The group, a mishmash of servants, guards, and attendants, eyed them right back, if a bit more nervously. Ciardis had a moment to wonder where the nobility was, but Sebastian had already started walking forward.

  Gamely she matched his pace and thought quickly at him, Shields?

  Already ahead of you, he thought back at her. They’re tight against our body. Set to deflect smaller weapons and spells.

  Ciardis couldn’t help it. She was impressed.

  When did you learn to do that? she had to ask.

  Sebastian chuckled internally. A certain daemoni prince thought it wise to instruct me. He seemed concerned that I’d lose my head otherwise.

  Ciardis blinked, but wisely said no more.

  The tension was thick as they walked forward into the crowd. No one challenged them. No one dared.

  That is, until an under-valet from Sebastian’s own personal service came forward.

  He wore the prince heir’s imperial emblem, which was how Ciardis knew who he served.

  The man knelt on shaking knees and asked in an apologetic voice, “Please, Prince Heir Sebastian, will you tell us what is happening? Has the god come to destroy us all?”

  Sebastian had glanced over him and continued on before he spoke. But when he heard the man’s words, he halted and turned back around.

  In wonder, the prince heir said, “Is that what you think?”

  He looked around at the crowd that had gathered, staying a respectful distance from Ciardis and Sebastian.

  Sebastian’s question seemed to break the dam of tension around them as the servants began to ask questions one after the other, all frantic to know what was going on.

  They began to press in, their eyes wide with fury and fear, until Ciardis got fed up and shouted, “Enough!”

  The under-valet chimed in, “Let them have their space. Get back!”

  Another servant swiftly began pushing the crowd back with not-so-gentle nudges and whacks from a walking stick that he had found somewhere.

  When they could finally breathe again, Sebastian said, “No, the bluttgott has not arrived just yet.”

  A murmur of voices went through the crowd, mostly acknowledging and passing on the prince heir’s news alongside the god’s name.

  “Sebastian,” Ciardis whispered. “I think we’ve gone about this the wrong way.”

  Sebastian frowned and said internally, What do you mean?

  You’ll only make them more nervous, she said quickly, standing and staring silently.

  Aloud she said, “We’ve been focusing on gathering the strength of the nobles. Winning their allegiance. Preparing them for battle. When perhaps the people we should have approached in the first place have been here all along.”

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he ran a practiced look over the gathered servants. Some were armed with weapons. Some had bruises on their skin. Others clutched children to their chests. All, to a man and a woman, looked defiant.

  “They thought a god was among them,” Sebastian speculated. “Yet they did not run.”

  “Precisely,” Ciardis said. “And precisely the caliber of people we need on our side. Forget the nobles. We’ll take the servants.”

  Ciardis looked at the crowd in a pleased and proud manner. The servants shuffled back in nervous formation.

  Ciardis blinked and thought ruefully, I’m guessing three days of travel-worn, blood-stained, and shoddy attire isn’t too inspirational.

  Sebastian snorted politely.

  Ciardis raised her voice. “We are not under attack, but we will be. The prince heir and I, under the emperor’s guidance, are forming a plan.”

  That wasn’t much of a lie. The emperor had dumped all preparations for the bluttgott’s appearance in their laps. He didn’t seem to care one way or another whether they got their jobs done. But knowing Maradian, Ciardis guessed he was scheming in the background, as ever.

  “But we need your help,” Ciardis continued in a strong manner. “All of you.”

  There were mutters and shuffles but no clear response, until someone said from the back of the crowd, “How can we help you?”

  “You are the empire,” Ciardis quickly responded. “Its heartblood. Its life. We can’t defeat a god without the willpower of the people behind us.”

  “Tell us what to do,” a woman in the front replied—her voice steady, her face resolute.

  Ciardis nodded in acknowledgement, one
woman to another.

  Before she could change her mind, the princess heir-in-waiting yelled, “In two days’ time, meet us in the city stadium. All the people you can muster. Young and old. Rich and poor. We’ll build a defense and enact a plan at sunrise.”

  Surprise filtered through the crowd and through Sebastian.

  But to his credit he didn’t hesitate. “Spread the word!” the prince heir boomed. “In two days when the sun rises, the entire city will come together. We will defeat this god.”

  Before more questions could erupt that she couldn’t answer, Ciardis jerked on the arm she had linked with Sebastian and off they went through the crowd. Not stopping unless it was for the wounded who they urged others to get to the healer’s ward.

  When they had reached the last ring of people, Sebastian asked an under-valet who had been following them, “How many dead?”

  “I’ve not heard,” the man said apologetically.

  Sebastian halted, turned, and put a steady hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Get a total. Find the names of the victims, then find me tomorrow.” Sebastian kept his eyes firmly on the man he was speaking to.

  The man straightened and nodded quickly. “I will, sir. I mean, Prince Heir!”

  “What’s your name?” Sebastian asked.

  “Branston, Prince Heir,” the under-valet responded.

  “Branston,” Sebastian replied. “I leave you to it.”

  He and Ciardis walked away. It was only when they had made it fully out of the palace and to the steps that Ciardis asked, “What will you do with the list?”

  “I don’t know,” Sebastian said. “But I will acknowledge them. They will not be forgotten.”

  11

  Ciardis bit her bottom lip, then nodded. At the moment that was all they could do. Remember the dead. Mourn the slain. Push forward for those not forgotten.

  She looked around outside and wondered where everyone was. The courtyard, a humongous square with a cobblestone-lined floor and enough space for twenty carriages to move forward abreast, was empty. Which was quite unheard of.