“My brother and I belong in the dungeon, do we?” Saris’s voice cracked, whip-sharp. Yes! Saris! With impeccable timing. She’d been raised from birth to be what she’d soon become—a queen. She stood with her back to the door, her guard at her side.The maid slipped from the room in a hurry. “I must tell my future mate immediately. He can have us both relocated by nightfall. I’m sure he holds your opinions most highly. Do you think incarcerating a child might upset his subjects too badly?” Saris tapped a finger against her lips. “What is your name again?”
She stepped more fully into the room, arms crossed over her chest. “Tell me, should my seamstresses fit my gown in the dungeon and risk sullying the silk? Will the king’s joining feast be held in a cell?”
The governess paled. “Your Highness, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have committed treason before your future queen.” Then, without glancing behind, Saris commanded, “Sir Broderick, the position of my brother’s governess doesn’t seem to appeal to this”—she cast a scathing glare hot enough to melt stone— “woman. Please have her removed at once.”
Yes! Wycke could have crowed. If Saris allowed, he’d banish the governess to the middle of the forest in the blink of an eye. Or turn her into a toad. Untrained magic. Such a chancy thing.
The guard who acted as Saris’s shadow moved quietly for a mountain of a man. “Yes, Your Highness. You are to remain here until I return.”
“I know.” Saris sighed. “You don’t have to tell me every time we part.” She gave Sir Broderick an affectionate smile nonetheless. He’d been the one to escort her to her judgment, but he’d been kind when many wouldn’t have. That she’d been allowed to choose him as her personal guard showed their captivity wasn’t intended to be harsh, or so Wycke hoped. Then again, King Broen would deliver the moon on a silver platter if Saris asked.
The former governess continued to sputter while Sir Broderick escorted her from the room. Good riddance. Wycke gave a sigh of relief. If only the sacking got the message through to the other servants who called him barbarian spawn.
Saris’s haughty demeanor vanished the moment the door closed. She rushed across the room, arranging her skirts around her and kneeling at Wycke’s side by the window seat.
“Why aren’t you in your classroom at this hour?”
Wycke’s stomach soured. Alone, in a room designed for a dozen royal children and other high-born students. What nobility allowed their heirs to be schooled with the son of a traitor?
Besides, the governess refused to teach him. “What use does an animal have for learning?” He used a teensy bit of power to mimic the governess’s voice.
“Oh, Wycke.” Saris gathered him into her arms, the way he’d often imagined his mother doing if she’d survived his birth. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. You should have told me. The horrid woman should never have said those awful things to you. Why you need a governess at your age is beyond me. You need tutors now, who can teach you all you need to know about running a kingdom.” She brushed a strand of hair back from his brow with gentle fingers, giving a tentative smile.
Wycke leaned into her touch. “Why do I need to know how to run a kingdom?”
Saris shrugged, the delicate silk of her pale green gown sliding against itself with a papery hiss. “If anything happens to our brother, you’re next in line to the Myrgren throne. Besides, knowledge is power. Who knows? One day King Broen might turn to you for advice.”
Advice from Wycke? Highly unlikely.
“I’m glad you called me.”
Wycke hadn’t called her. He’d merely thought of her.
“One can only take so much hair dressing.” Saris pointed to the elaborate coif on her head. “I keep telling my attendants I intend to wear my hair loose, as is customary of Myrgren. Can you believe they wanted me to dye my hair brown? ‘The better to fit in,’ they said. Thank the ancestors they’re not a permanent part of the staff. Why I couldn’t use my own ladies in waiting to dress my hair remains a mystery. I believe the palace staff is conspiring to make my joining as painful as possible!”
“We’re no longer in Myrgren,” Wycke reminded her, wincing when he recalled the words came from his governess. Saris? Dye her hair? The lovely white tresses, a trait passed down through the family? How dare anyone suggest such a thing!
Though he’d heard the same comments about himself.
Beautiful Saris, with her high cheekbones and intelligent eyes. Far more stunning than any of the local women, in Wycke’s opinion. He’d heard rumors of his own good looks between the curses about his parentage. He secretly suspected the people of Dhugach of hating him and Saris even more because they weren’t hideous, as local tales of the mountain folk claimed they were.
“We are of Myrgren, as were our ancestors. Never forget that.” Saris’s mouth twisted into a worried frown. “Your summoning gains strength, your power growing every day. You must be careful.” She toyed with the band on Wycke’s wrist. “Even with this, your magic is determined to make itself known.”
“I know. If anyone finds out, they’ll steal my power or make me do magic for them.” Saris reminded Wycke often enough of the fate Myrgren’s sorceress suffered when their father’s attempt to overthrow the high king ended in war. Although Wycke and his siblings left the hall before the high king delivered any punishments, Wycke still dreamed of the sorceress’ screams.
“So right, little brother. We can’t allow anyone to take advantage, can we?” Saris gave Wycke’s nose a playful tweak. “That’s what the cuff is for. I believe Lady Gimitri created the magic-dampening band for her own child.”
No more words were needed. Wycke learned long ago the story of how the sorceress murdered her son. Wycke’s mother could have saved her own life by sacrificing Wycke at his difficult birth but instead gave him the gift of life at the cost of her own.
Servants didn’t mind their tongues around the small boy hidden under the bed. And Saris repeated stories when stressed, though outwardly, she remained calm about her upcoming joining day.
She ran her finger along the band’s etched runes. “I cannot believe the thing still fits, the way the silver grows as you do. Strange. But useful. However, I can sense a bit of your power even with this.”
“Sometimes, when I think something, it happens, even with the band.”
“You must try to suppress it. We cannot allow anyone to find out about your abilities. I want you to remain here with me.” Saris sniffed back tears. “You’ll be the queen consort’s brother, after all. You can have whatever you want.”
