In many ways, Seth is exactly as I remembered. He’s brash and sometimes cruel, impulsive to a fault, and prone to wild swings of anger that are as unpredictable as they are deadly. He seems to have almost no care or concern for me or for anyone but himself.
But he does have lines he won’t cross and lines he won’t tolerate others crossing. He values cleanliness and neatness and likes to keep his things meticulously arranged. There’s an order to his madness, as difficult as it may be to discern at times.
And he’s capable of scheming and deception in a way I hadn’t expected. I do remember him being close to Mother, now that I think of it, but I always thought he was more like Father. I’m seeing now that it may have been Adria’s influence all along like he suggested.
I don’t think I can reason with him, and I’m not sure if I’m capable of deceiving him, but I know what he wants—freedom from Adria. If I can find a way to convince him that he has a better chance of getting it with me, maybe he’ll abandon her cause.
There would be worse allies to have than Seth. For all his bluster and buffoonery, I know he’s a capable military commander. Maybe he won’t be at the front lines, but I’m willing to bet he’s a talented strategist when he needs to be. He’s far too focused on his own survival to be any other way.
But how do I convince him his chances are better with me? I can’t show him my magic. So what can I do to make him see what I’m capable of?
The answer occurs to me as I look at the box of chains under the desk.
All I need to do to win his respect is to escape.
Chapter Nine
Ronan
Taran manages, with some convincing, to get me to eat something and to get some rest before getting back on Kira. Not that I’m able to get much uninterrupted sleep—there are decisions to be made, reports to receive, and a dozen courtiers to address (and this time, I really do have to listen to them), but I manage to nap long enough to get most of my magic back by nightfall.
We’re on our way to the stables when we’re stopped yet again by a servant with an urgent message. This is the third such message today, and I’m just about to give my messengers a lesson on how if everything is urgent, nothing is, when I read what it says: Guardian Adama has just landed in the palace docks.
“In the palace? How did he get in?”
“A stealth ship, sir, one with a shadow-born at the helm,” says the messenger.
“A shadow-born?” My heart races momentarily before I realize I can still feel that Sylvie is miles away. “Why weren’t they spotted?”
“They waited until darkness to cross the gap. There was a shadow-born on watch duty, but they missed it.”
“Direct Admiral Nauta to station at least four there at all times. Two watching each direction.”
“Yes, sir,” says the messenger.
Taran looks at me and then the stables beyond. “Maybe we should hear him out first, in case he knows more about where they’re keeping her.”
He’s saying this at least partially in hopes that we won’t have to fly tonight, but he is right. We head back into the palace and meet Guardian Adama in the halls on the way to the throne room, although I barely recognize him with his head shaved.
I also note as he bows to me and greets me that he’s wearing Selaran armor over his clothes. It’s not a perfect disguise, but I can see why it worked on my guards.
“Guardian Larus Adama. I can’t say that I was expecting to see you again, but I’m hoping if you’re here, it’s to bring me news of Sylvie.”
Larus regards me ruefully. “I came to beg your forgiveness, your majesty, for the part I played, and to help you get her back in any way that I can.”
I stop in my tracks. “You were there when she was taken?”
“I’m afraid I took her myself, sir. I had no choice. It was either I went, or Adria would have gone herself.”
I try to keep my breathing under control. Larus is lucky that Sylvie cares for him because it’s the only thing that keeps me from striking him in this moment. “Because of Sylvie’s love for you and the sincerity in your feelings, I’m going to give you a chance to explain yourself.” His eyes flash white with fear, and for once, I don’t feel bad for intimidating him. He took her from me. He took her, and she could have been killed. She could still be killed. My heart pounds in my ears, but I maintain control. For Sylvie’s sake, I let him speak.
I listen, my fingers clenching and unclenching, itching for my sword as Larus explains how his plans to sabotage thesiege efforts were foiled by Adria and the few options he had for keeping Sylvie safe, how he thought he was doing what she would have wanted, not realizing the true depth of her feelings for me, and how his plans to bring her back to me were also foiled, but this time, by Seth.
Fucking Seth. Taran was right—it was one of Seth’s boats that took her. He’s even more of an asshole than Adria, and he’s far less reasonable. Our only real chance is to take her by force.
“She told me to tell you not to come for her.”
“Because she’s where she wants to be?” I try to keep my voice detached, but it betrays me.
