So what if she was only one girl against a pack of hunters?
So what if her efforts had to be small?
At least they’d be something.
If Duke Morkai could somehow see her, then it was only a matter of time before he found her. He might as well watch her destroy his machinations. And when he found her, she wouldn’t cower. Wouldn’t run. She’d send an arrow between his eyes. Show him she was the killer he’d made her out to be.
She walked through the woods, idly seeking shelter. It took her a while to realize she was no longer alone. Glancing to the side, she caught a flash of white between the trees. She stopped in place and the unicorn stopped too. They held each other’s stare until the creature emerged and stood before her.
Help, he said.
Terror surged through her, tinged with an unsettling excitement. Both emotions were wholly hers. “Yes,” she said to the unicorn. “I will help you.”
14
King Arlous slumped into the chair behind his desk, posture defeated. “Three more ships have been sacked by pirates. We’ll lose our contract with Brushwold by fall at this rate.”
Teryn’s stomach plummeted at his father’s words, although he wasn’t sure how much farther it could sink. Today was the official start of the Heart’s Hunt. A week had passed since the Beltane festival, and he was now back home at Dermaine Palace. In the week since his meeting with the princes in the garden, he’d exchanged only a few brief correspondences with Prince Helios, the latest of which directed Teryn to meet him and Lex at a certain inn by nightfall. That meant Teryn had but an hour to spare before departing. A prospect that had his nerves pressed in a vise. There was still a chance Helios’ offer of alliance had been a ruse. Tonight’s meeting could end in sabotage.
Arlous rubbed his brow, as if that were enough to erase his worries. Then, with a forced smile that didn’t match the vacant look in his eyes, the king reached for a decanter on his desk. He poured a generous finger of amber liquid into two glasses and handed one to Teryn. “Let’s share a drink. You didn’t come here to listen to my woes. You came to bid me farewell.”
Teryn accepted the glass and took a long pull. The burning warmth of the strong spirit was a welcome distraction from his anxiety. “As heir to the crown, your woes are mine to bear.”
His father winced. “I failed you, Teryn. I promised to find information on unicorns and have nothing of value to give.” He lifted one of the letters haphazardly strewn upon his desk. “One informant wrote to me with vague rumors about unicorn sightings up north. Like that’s supposed to mean anything. North where? Northern Menah? North as in Khero? Northern Risa?” With a huff, he took up another letter. “This one might as well be blank for all it’s worth.” Another letter. “Same goes for this one.” He crumpled it in his hand and tossed it toward his waste bin. It missed by several inches, which made King Arlous throw back the rest of his drink and pour another. “I’m being outbid, that’s what’s happening. I can’t afford my own spies.”
Teryn didn’t know what to say to that so he took another pull from his drink. His eyes wandered over the king’s desk. The letters his father had referred to appeared useless indeed, considering how brief they were. His father’s frustration was his own, for that was how every correspondence from Helios had been this week. And Teryn was supposed to trust the man.
King Arlous finished his second drink and began gathering up the discarded letters. He fumbled and lost half the stack to the desk, proving he’d already been well into his cups by the time Teryn had arrived at the king’s study to say goodbye.
The topmost sheet caught Teryn’s eye. He leaned forward squinting at it. “What’s that?”
Arlous lifted the page in question, then handed it to his son.
Teryn assessed it closer, finding a portrait of a beautiful young woman beneath the wordWanted. He nearly dropped his drink when his gaze landed on the sum at the bottom of the page. “Five hundred thousandsovas?” It was enough to repay the Bank of Cartha and still have money to spare. “Who is she?”
The king left his desk and stood at his window. The morning was gray and heavy with fog, obscuring the view of the palace gates and the rolling hills behind it.
“A wild goose chase,” Arlous muttered. “An informant brought me the poster, but no one has been able to deliver anything else on the girl since. Not her name. Not her age. Not her last seen whereabouts. All we know is that she poisoned Queen Linette and Princess Aveline. It is common knowledge that the crimes were committed by one of the queen’s maids, but the murders occurred six years ago. If that’s what she looked like then, she could look far different now.”
Teryn studied the girl again. Her expression had been rendered neutral, her eyes small and slightly angled, her hair dark and lustrous. She didn’t look like a murderer. He returned the paper to the desk. “How long have you been seeking her?”
The king shrugged. “A few months now. I’ve been seeking an alliance with King Dimetreus for far longer, but he responds to nothing. This, I thought, could grant me both a formidable alliance and the funds to repay Cartha. I have nothing else to offer him. Your sisters are too young to marry.”
Teryn’s heart clenched at the mention of his three younger sisters. His father rarely spoke of them. Teryn only ever saw them anymore if he visited his mother’s palace.
“If I could catch this outlaw,” King Arlous said, “we’d have everything. Paying back the Bank of Cartha would allow us to set everything else to rights. Our trade with Brushwold would thrive. We’d never again be slighted by Selay. Verdian wouldn’t dare put off your marriage to the princess any longer, knowing we had the funds to threaten war.”
Teryn shifted in his seat, uneasy at the talk of war. His kingdom had already been on the receiving end of such a threat when Arlous attempted to dissolve his marriage to Teryn’s mother. That was enough experience to last Teryn a lifetime. “Don’t worry, Father, we’ll have the princess’ dowry before the next ship leaves Brushwold’s shores.” His tone was confident, but he knew his expression didn’t match.
King Arlous turned away from the window and frowned at his son. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft. Quavering. “I’m so sorry, Teryn. I don’t say it to you enough because I can’t regret what I tried to do for Annabel. I love her. You must know that.”
“I do,” Teryn said, although he didn’t consider it a virtue on his father’s part.
The king returned to his desk and braced his hands on the tabletop, his head slumped with defeat. “This burden you must bear…I fear it will only leave you a younger version of me, trapped in a loveless marriage.” Teryn bristled at that, but Arlous rushed to add, “That’s nothing on your mother, son. She’s a good woman. I respect her.”
Teryn pursed his lips to keep from scoffing. How could his father claim to respect the woman he’d once dragged through scandal? Arlous had tried to annul his marriage to the queen by accusing her of infidelity. He’d claimed she’d been intimate with his late brother before his untimely death, which meant his marriage could never be considered valid in the eyes of the seven gods. Teryn had a hunch his father’s actions had more to do with the fact that his mother bore only girls after Teryn while Annabel had birthed two more boys after Larylis.
“I can’t take it all back,” King Arlous said. “Nor can I stop hating myself for what I’m doing to you.”
