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Did they plan to threaten me to achieve Dima’s compliance? Or…was there another way out of the tower I didn’t know about? Another secret door like the one in the storage room downstairs, and did that mean they were taking me to wherever Ren was being held?
My heart leapt at the thought of being reunited with him. Of being greeted with that broad smile and those rich brown eyes, his unceasing wit and familiar citrusy scent. And I’d doanythingfor his release: give and promise them the world if that was what it took to ensure his survival, although knowing Ren he would likely have already come up with a needlessly complex plot to escape.
Vidrio shoved the door open with his foot.
“You don’t need toshout, Nat,” Dima commented in Mazekhstani from where he was trailing a paintbrush across a canvas on the opposite side of the circular, sunlit room. He didn’t look around as we entered but he did wince and press a hand to his temple. The dog lying on the bed whined.
I hadn’t been shouting outside of my mind, but as he clearly hadn’t listened to my warnings, I did so now. “Dima, run!” I yelled, throwing my whole weight against Morales. It brought all three of us down to the floor and I grabbed hold of Vidrio’s ankle to stop him rising, buying Dima a few precious seconds to flee.
Yet the man didn’t move.
“They really aren’t here to hurt me,” he said mildly, finally glancing over at us. Morales pried my fingers from Vidrio.
Recaptured, I was dragged forward into the centre of the room and pushed down onto my knees. Morales took hold of my chin and forced me to look directly at the Hearken.
“Eye contact is not necessary,” Dima informed her. “I’ve heard Mathias’ thoughts since he was halfway up the stairs, just as I have each of yours. You can let go of him now.”
“You know what we’re-”
“Da.”
Morales swallowed. “And why we’re-”
“Also yes,” said Dima.
Morales glanced down at me, biting her lip. “What we need to be absolutely sure of?”
“Beabsolutely surethat you might as well throw yourself out of that window now,” I snapped, jerking my chin out of her hold towards it. Dima’s dog yipped in what sounded like agreement. “Because the moment I get free, you’re both done for.”
“He’s not,” Dima said in answer to a question none of us had asked, screwing up his nose as if something pained him. It wasn’t hard to figure outwhat; all of us being here was too much for his magic to handle. Hearkens were powerful, but also immensely fragile.
“Not what?” Morales demanded, continuing to speak Dima’s – and my – native tongue. “Not loyal? Not truthful? Not-”
“Not inclined, nor capable, of acting against the king,” he clarified. He let the paintbrush fall from limp fingers. “Nathanael would die for Ren. He had nothing to do with his disappearance.”
With those words, I felt the tension immediately drain from both councillors’ bodies. I wrenched myself free of their suddenly loose hold but needn’t have bothered: by the time I got to my feet, they’d already dropped to their own knees before me, heads bowed and damn near prostrating themselves across the floor.
“What the fuck,” I said flatly, looking to Dima for an explanation. He staggered across the room and fell onto the bed, his dog immediately curling up beside him and licking his face with a playful enthusiasm I’d only ever seen on animals and my husband. The man smiled even through his obvious pain, playing with the dog’s ears. When we’d asked what would make his necessary exile up at the top of the palace tower more comfortable, the Hearken had requested painting supplies, plenty of good wine, and a companion…one whose mind he couldn’t read. It was my brother who’d found him a breed of puppy that wouldn’t object to being cooped up inside for months at a time, despite Ren’s fears that Valeri would deliver us another wolf.
I took a tentative step in Dima’s direction, watching the two councillors closely, but neither of them moved to stop me. They remained on the floor, heads still lowered and necks bared as if they expected the axe to fall any moment.
“It wasn’t Vidrio you suspected of treachery,” I said hollowly to Morales, the realisation coming far too late. “It wasme.”
“Our apologies, king consort.” She glanced up, her eyes dry despite the regret that lay within them. “If you choose to have us executed for raising a hand to you, Your Highness, we will not resist.”
“Although Councillors del Olmo and Zapatero are unaware of what we have done,” Vidrio added softly where he knelt at her side. “Please do not punish them for our actions.”
“And Aitor?”
“Aitor deeply regrets not being able to protect the king from being kidnapped,” murmured Morales. “That guilt convinced him to help us discover if you were behind it. His way of making up for his mistake, I suppose.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I snapped. “How could any of you seriously think I would harm my husband?”
They were silent for a long moment, remorse and shame seeping into their expressions, but I took savage pleasure in watching them squirm.
“Mat doesn’t want you to pretty up your words for him,” Dima called out from the bed. “Just say it.”
I shot him a glare. Sure, I didn’t need them to spare my feelings, but I’d been all for the torture of making them try before I ordered them to cut to the truth. Yet the sight of Dima’s curled up form made me reassess.
