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If he brought Iseris here to the temple, even with proof, a lot would be riding on that little word. The leap of hope in his chest didn’t last long. The prince was as intelligent as he was manipulative. Would Alekur really make it so easy to outmaneuver him? The prince would likely just find some other way to assassinate Iseris—and Javarin along with her, for foiling his plan.
And it was possible he wouldn’t need to use his manipulative tactics, that the priests would simply go along with whatever he said, label Jav a heretic, and facilitate killing them both.
No, he couldn’t rely on a should and the loyalties of the local priests. But if he could take Iseris to another temple, one outside Brusidal’s borders, where there was no loyalty to Alekur in particular… Maybe they could reach the Great Temple, even.
With this Devoted Stone to prove her innocence, surely, he could find aid and shelter for them both there.
He blinked. Yes! This was a plan. Hope bloomed now with energy.
But he was still standing in front of the stone’s now-empty pillar, with it in his pocket. If he didn’t get killed for being a traitor or a heretic, his own stupidity would do him in at this rate.
He hurried out to the horses. Yes, this was a good plan. He’d find her asylum. Of course, that was if the stone lay dark and inert.
If it didn’t? He would have no choice. No temple would offer her anything. He would have to do as he’d been ordered. And Alekur was right; it was better for him to do the deed than someone cruel. Even if he knew it was wrong. Even if he suspected Nefrana’s will was not this madness.
If the stone glowed, he would have to do his duty.
Then after he’d followed his orders—no, he should say it out right, after he’d killed Princess Iseris—he’d renounce his knighthood and find some way to make up for what he’d done. He’d wander until he could find a way to make amends to the world for the light he’d taken from it. Yes, that was a plan. A worse one, but a plan.
But even as he reached the temple’s outer doors and saw Sky waiting, he knew. There would be no way to make amends for performing this evil task. If the stone glowed and he killed Iseris, his hands would never again be clean.
But maybe—hopefully—surely—it wouldn’t. It’d stay dull and lifeless just as it was now.
He stopped as he emerged into the twilight. A delicate snow was starting to fall, but heavy clouds promised much more. The light was fading fast. He had better get back to the castle and get on with it. But he just stood there in the cold wind on the temple’s stone steps.
He imagined Iseris there at his feet, begging him for mercy he couldn’t give.
He forced himself to walk to where the horses were tied. No point in thinking about that. The stone wouldn’t glow. It would be all right. He couldn’t know her so well and have missed her magic all this time.
The messenger’s mare was stamping her hoof in the dirt impatiently beside his Sky. He gave her neck a rub before mounting his steed, taking both their reins once again. He should probably be kind and return the messenger’s horse to the stable. Why had he even brought the creature along?
The tapestry sprang to mind again. The smiling goddess. Hmm, no. Returning the horse would not be the right thing to do, would it?
He’d find proof. He’d prove Iseris was no mage, and then he’d get her away from here. Somewhere safe.
And this mare was going to help him do it.
Chapter 9
Regrets
The ropes binding Iseris’s wrists behind her were far sturdier than she would have liked. Alekur had never been a fool. Unfortunately.
She spent most of the afternoon struggling to loosen them enough that her hands wouldn’t go completely numb. Truly freeing her wrists was utterly out of the question. He’d clearly known what he was doing.
Her ankles had more potential, though. Maybe her kicks while he’d worked had thwarted him a little, or maybe he’d simply cared less, but she was able to slowly work more and more slack into the binding, although her legs burned, and she frequently had to stop to rest. She alternated back and forth, hands then ankles, hands then ankles.
When the sun set, full dark settled over her chambers. But at last, one foot came free. It wasn’t much more fighting before she freed the other.
Kicking off the ropes, she could move a little now, wiggling a bit like a worm until she reached the edge of the bed and slid down to the floor. Though her wrists were still bound behind her and tied to the bedpost, she even managed a crouch. The bed was a small fortification between her and the door. It wouldn’t do much good, but even a small rebellion was better than none.
If he left her here all night, could she fully free herself? Futzing around with scissors behind her back seemed like a recipe for disaster, but if it was her only option, she’d try it.
She’d prefer to know what his next move would be, though. Just what did he intend exactly? To let her starve here? She doubted it. But maybe he was planning something that required the morning’s light?—
The outer door’s groan quashed those hopes. Someone was here.
Heart jumping into her throat, she got as low as she could with her bound hands still tethered to the bedpost behind her. Her shoulder dug into the hard bed frame. Who? If either of her attendants, Drin or Loni, saw her like this, what would they say? What would they assume? They’d never been charitable, in their interpretations of her actions or in their ministrations. But she was fairly certain a cruel hair brushing was not what was in store for her. Besides, her brother had given them the night off anyway, hadn’t he?
