A sorcerer.
And what sorcerer would be so intent on killing anyone trying to claim the throne? What sorcerer was able to stay hidden away because everyone thought he was dead? What sorcerer likely wanted revenge on the uncle who had been behind the murder of his mother and his own attempted murder?
The memory of Alanna’s last words floated to Jade’s mind.“I told Father, but he didn’t believe me. He said he doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
But Reynauld must have held on to some truth in Alanna’s suggestion, because when he thought Jade was an assassin sent to kill him, he said he’d kill her employer all over again.
The prince he had thought he’d killed eleven years ago.
Jade searched Nicolas’s face with new eyes, searching for vestiges of familiarity to the royal family. The angles of his face. The shape of his nose. Those were the king’s. She’d seen little of his mother, the queen, when she’d been alive, but she couldn’t forget her almost black hair and dark eyes, and his tan skin tone matched hers.
No wonder he’d only shown himself in public at the masquerade, where his face could be hidden behind his mask.
She released a long breath, almost in disbelief, but she saw the proof of it now before her eyes. “You were never a private guard for the king. You’re Artis. You’re the true prince.”
Nicolas stepped back and gestured with his hand down his entire body, that same delighted smirk shining on his face, as if he was proud of her for figuring it out. “In the flesh.”
“But...” Jade shook her head, not knowing how to piece this part together by herself. “Your father and Reynauld had you killed because you’re...a sorcerer. You died.”
“That’s what I wanted them all to think.” He crossed his arms again, a shadow passing over his face and hardening his features, the smirk from before wiped away. “Yes, my uncle discovered the truth about me and told my father. I knew something wasn’t right when my father said he wouldn’t be joining my mother and me on our trip away. Then some lackey posing as a courier showed up at our country home, and I immediately noticed something strange about him. He seemed nervous.
“We had minimal staff at the house, so the footman who had answered the door asked that I take the courier to my mother, who was in the morning room. He offered my mother a sweet, something supposedly sent by my father as a token of his regret that he couldn’t join us.” Nicolas clenched hisjaw, his dark eyes turning deadly. “My accepting, loving mother took the sweet without question and ate it. I took one too, but I wasn’t in the mood for gifts from my father, so I set it aside.
“The moment my mother started reacting to the poison in the treat, I ran to her, but I quickly realized I couldn’t do anything. In my distress, I didn’t notice that the courier had taken candles and lit the curtains on fire. When I finally smelled the smoke, the courier tackled me, holding a poison-filled syringe to my neck since I hadn’t eaten the treat.
“My magic wasn’t strong then, but the fear and rage within me fueled it. I used magic to get him off me, and then I stabbed the syringe into his own neck.” Even with his arms folded, Nicolas balled his hands into tight fists, as though holding back the same fury he’d felt in that moment. “The room was ablaze by then, so I had to get out of there if I wanted to live. I had to leave my mother behind to burn.”
Jade’s mouth fell open, and she took two steps toward Nicolas, resting a compassionate hand on his arm. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, taking her by surprise, but the pain of losing a beloved mother still lived in her own heart. And for his mother to die such a cruel death, in front of him, no less...That was a pain she wished on no one.
“Oh, Nicolas,” she whispered, her voice thick with pity and unshed tears. She looked up at him, finding a glimmer in his own eyes as well. “Or should I call you Artis?”
He shook his head. “You know me as Nicolas, and that’s what I want you to call me. It’s one of my names, so it’s not entirely wrong. Artis Affero Nicolas Venemer. But I’m a different person than Artis now.” He lifted his gaze to look past her, staring blankly at the wall. “Artisdiddie in that fire, for all practical purposes.”
Something within Jade compelled her to close the little distance remaining between them, lifting her hand to his face as he had just done to her. He smiled again at her touch, the shadows of the past falling away and returning to her the Nicolas she knew.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, forcing her tears back. “I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”
Nicolas’s arms wrapped around Jade’s waist, and his hands rested on her back. He nodded, as though he already knew. It led her to a question she’d wondered before and now burned in her mind. She needed an answer.
“How long have you been watching me?”
Nicolas tilted his head, lifting one of his hands to push a stray strand of hair behind Jade’s ear before returning it to her back. “Since the conflict began. I was keeping close eyes on all those involved. When I started to see you cropping up places, usually hidden or in disguise, I knew I needed to learn more about you. When I discovered you were one of the military’s top espionage agents, I decided to follow your movements.”
Jade narrowed her eyes and peered up at him from under her brow. “That’s not creepy at all.”
“I kept eyes on everyone involved in the conflict. And when I saw what you did for that sorceress girl, the one carrying the basket to the pastry shop...” A sudden tenderness filled Nicolas’s expression. “It showed you were sympathetic to magic-wielders. You could have turned her in, but you didn’t. I knew then that I wanted to know more about you. I wanted you on my side.”
Jade struggled to breathe. How often had he been lurking in the shadows? How much of her had he truly seen? No wonder he knew everything about her life.
She tried to divert attention from herself, trying to gain insight into his greater plan. “Why not make yourself known sooner? Why wait months to reveal yourself to me?”
“I wanted to learn how you worked, to see how you responded to my leads before I was willing to bring you here,” he said, a crooked grin on his lips. “If I wanted to maintain control, I needed to understand everyone involved.”
“Control?” she repeated, retrieving her hand from his face and pulling herself from his grasp.
Nicolas sighed. “Yes. Control.” He stretched his arms out wide. “This was my doing. My game. All of it.”
The rampant beating of Jade’s heart pounded in her ears as she tried to puzzle all the pieces together. The letters Arabella had talked about. Someone had orchestrated all of it after all. But he and the assassin were one and the same.
