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His glance trailed from her wrists to her face, lingering on her mouth for a moment before he flicked his eyes away. He was flushed,which surprised her. She would not have thought it possible to shock him.
“Stop that,” he said, still not looking at her.
She dropped her hands. “I knew you wouldn’t really do it.”
There were rings in his left ear, she noticed, small gold hoops that glowed darkly against his light-brown skin. “You are mad to stupidly court such danger,” he said. “I wonder that Mayesh chose a mad physician to look after my cousin, granddaughter or no.”
Lin could not stop herself. “He is not your cousin.”
Now he did look at her, his eyes hard. “What did Mayesh tell you?”
“Nothing. I saw his talisman. It might mean nothing to most Castellani, but I am Ashkar. I can readgematry.Kel is theKirálar.Your Sword Catcher.”
The Prince did not move. He was very still, but it was a stillness that contained a dangerous energy. It reminded Lin of serpents she had seen caged in the market square, motionless in the moment before striking. “I see,” he said. “You believe you know something that can hurt me. Hurt the Palace. You think that gives you power.” He stood up straight. “What is it you want, then? Money?”
“Money?” Lin could feel herself shaking with rage. “I would not take your ring when you offered it freely. Why would you think I want money now?”
“Mayesh is aware that you know,” he said, half to himself. “He must think the secret safe, with you, then.”
“It is. I have no intention of telling anyone. For Kel’s sake, and for my grandfather’s. Not for yours. The Palace means nothing to me.”
She started for the archway, the one that led out of the courtyard. She heard quick footsteps behind her; a moment later the Prince moved to block her way. She could have gone around him, she thought, but it seemed foolish, as if she thought they were playing a child’s game of catch-the-mouse.
“You hate me,” he said. He sounded almost puzzled. “You do not know me at all, and yet you hate me. Why?”
She looked up. He was tall, so much that she had to crane her head back to look at him. She did not think she had been this close to him before. She could see the individual threads of his dark lashes, smell the leather and sunlight scent of him. “Kel is covered in scars,” she said. “And while his current injuries may not have the Aurelian name upon them, his old ones do. He was given to you as if he were athing,like an engraved box or a decorative hat—”
“Do you imagine I wear a great number of decorative hats?” inquired the Prince.
“He was onlyten,” she said.
“Mayesh seems to have told you a great deal.”
“All of it,” she said. “Kel was just a child—”
His face changed, as if a screen had been drawn back, and now she could see what lay behind it. A real anger—cut away from pretense, from disguise. It was a clean anger, burning white-hot. “As was I,” he hissed. “I was a child, too. What do you imagine I could have done about it?”
“You could release him. Let him live his own life.”
“He does not serve me. He serves House Aurelian, as do I. I could no more free Kel than I can free myself.”
“You are playing games with words,” said Lin. “You have the power—”
“Let me tell you something about power,” said the Prince of Castellane. “There is always someone who has more of it than you. I have power; the King has more. House Aurelian has more. The Council of Twelve has more.” He raked a hand through his hair. He was not wearing a crown; it changed him, subtly. Made him look younger, different. More like Kel. “Have you even,” he said, “askedKel? Whether he wishes to be other than he is? Wishes Jolivet had never found him?”
“No,” Lin admitted. “But surely, given the choice—”
He barked a disbelieving laugh. “Enough, then,” he said. Helooked away; when he looked again at her, the screen was back in place. His anger was gone, replaced by only a faint incredulity, as if he could not believe he was here, having this conversation, with Lin of all people. She felt his scorn, as tangible as the touch of a hand. “Enough of this profitless conversation. I do not answer toyou.Leave, and know that when I say leave, it meansleave and stay away,notleave and return when you feel so inclined.Do you understand me?”
Lin gave the smallest of nods. Barely a movement at all, but it seemed to satisfy him. He spun on his heel and stalked back into the Castel Mitat, his green coat whipping around him like the flag of Marakand.
She was halfway to the North Gate, still fuming, when a carriage drew up alongside her. Lacquered red, with a gold lion blazoned on the door, it was clearly a royal carriage; a Castelguard with a scarred face held the reins of a matched pair of bay horses. “Lin Caster?” he said, looking down at her from his perch on the driver’s seat. “Prince Conor sent me. I am meant to take you into the city, wherever it is you wish to go.”
Somehow, Lin was sure, this was a pointed gesture. She set her jaw. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is, actually,” said the guard. “The Prince says I must make absolutely sure you leave the grounds of Marivent.” He sounded apologetic. “Please, Domna. If you refuse, I could lose my post.”
Name of the Goddess,Lin thought. What an absolute brat the Prince was; clearly he hadn’t changed at all since his childhood.
