Curse of Shadows and Thorns: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 1)
Curse of Shadows and Thorns: Chapter 15

My parents didn’t really want the details of my wellbeing, more the gory bits, so my father could rant about tearing the township down looking for anyone talking about the Night Prince, or anyone who even looked like they might be an Agitator. Not out of concern for his second daughter, but for his own livelihood. If there was a threat to Zyben’s throne, it wouldn’t bode well for the Lysander estate.

I applied two coats of a pungent paste Mavie brought from the healer. An herbal remedy that numbed skin beautifully. With it, I could sit upright without the sharp bite of pain from the gash over my hip.

Alone in the library, I hid behind a few stacks of books on the family lines of royalty. There were few writings on the Ettan lines. But then, most Timorans would like to pretend our people had not invaded and overthrown this land. They’d rather believe we always stood at the head.

A brief knock drew my attention from the droll pages. Bevan poked his head in the door. I grinned. “Bevan, come in.”

The slope of his shoulders was the only hint of his age. There was a youthfulness in his eyes. He held another two books in his hands. “Kvinna, I have been asked to deliver these to you, for your entertainment as you recover.”

I took the books, then laughed. “Bloodiest Ettan Battles.” I shook my head. “Mattis is aware I nearly died, right?”

Bevan tried not to smile but failed. “I believe that feckless nephew of mine sent these books intentionally. To be inappropriate.”

I scoffed. Only Mattis would hear I’d been stabbed, then supply me with writings of blood and battle. Still, I tucked the books in the stack of genealogy. “Thank him for me.”

Bevan nodded his head, a shadow passing his features. “How are you, Kvinna?”

I sighed. “Physically? I’m healing. But I’m worried for Herr Legion. I don’t know which healer he went to see, and I’ve not heard anything from him.”

All day, I expected to hear word on Legion’s health, but no one seemed to know where he’d gone. Now, I feared he might have succumbed to his wounds. Or ran for his life. Clearly, I was a risk no negotiator in their right mind would care to take on.

“I’m sure he will return soon,” Bevan said. “As I understand it, the departure had less to do with his health and more to do with discovering how Agitators came so close to you.”

“He was wounded.”

“When I saw him, he walked straight and steady. You mustn’t worry for him.”

I shook my head and muttered, “Not an easy thing.”

Bevan patted my shoulder and smiled. “You are beginning to trust him, I see.”

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“No,” said the old man. “Of anyone, I believe Herr Grey can be trusted.”

“He’s unusual,” I blurted out. “When I thought of a negotiator, I imagined a man who’d revel in the power he held over me. Sometimes it feels like he cares more about my future than an advantageous match that would surely line his own pocket.”

Bevan clasped his hands behind his back and nodded. “I believe Herr Grey has a keen interest in your wellbeing and destiny.”

I wasn’t sure about all that, but it was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one in the household who believed Legion had a decent heart, decent intentions.

“Bevan,” I said, eyeing the way he shifted on his feet. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No, Kvinna,” he said. “But I’m afraid more than delivering the books, I’ve come to tell you, you have a visitor. Captain Magnus. I tried to tell him you were not well enough, but he grew insistent.”

I wouldn’t be permitted to refuse, not when I’d been walking about all day. To feign illness or too much pain for visitors wouldn’t work. I gave a curt nod. “I’ll be along shortly.”

Once a clean set of gloves hid away the missing tips of my fingers, I traipsed the stairs slower than necessary. Jarl stood next to an open window in the main gathering room. Dressed in the patent black gambeson with boiled leather belt securing a narrow sword to his waist, Jarl Magnus was the sort of man that brought pride to the power of Timoran. But I did not want to see him. And I didn’t care, not now, how foolish it made me to want to see Legion over anyone.

I took a heavy step to catch his attention, the heel of my shoe thudding on the wood floor. Jarl lifted his gaze, an obvious furrow gathering between his eyes.

“Elise,” he said a little breathlessly. He erased the space between us, hands on my elbows. “I heard of the attack only this morning. Forgive me for not coming sooner.”

I forced a smile. “There is nothing to forgive. Had you come yesterday I would not have been on my feet to greet you.”

His eyes roamed my body, searching for the wound. “How are you? Runa informed me you were struck.”

“Yes,” I said and patted the place above my hip bone. “I’m afraid it felt much deeper than it was.”

Jarl tangled his fingers with mine and led me to one of the sitting chairs as though I might break any moment. “By the gods, too much freedom has been given to those Agitator bastards. They ought to be done away with. But we will, Elise. The moment I heard of what happened—again—I sent the best trackers in my unit to find anything. If Agitators are being so bold, then they, and anyone associated with them, will die.”

“Tried,” I corrected. “I hope the law will still be abided, and they will be granted a trial.”

“It will be short, I assure you.” Jarl said through his teeth, missing my point entirely.

When most might find a bit of gladness at Jarl’s vow, a shudder ran through me instead. More blood, more division, more hatred. Where one Agitator died, another would come again. Until we understood what they believed, what they wanted, death would be the only language we spoke to one another.

I settled against the chair, the pain mounting in my side again, as Jarl went on about his plans to see justice through. Somewhere through the conversation, he made a lot of vows that blood would spill in my name. Much like my father. I didn’t want anything more staining my hands. A haze built in my head. Jarl paid no notice and went on. And on.

The request for him to leave so I may rest hovered on the tip of my tongue.

“I will speak with Herr Grey about more security for you. Thank the gods the king had the insight to place a negotiator who knows a blade in his employ.”

I wanted to tell him I fought alongside Legion, but I would relive the moment I stabbed the Agitator, and my head was too heavy to even think of it.

Jarl was interrupted by a knock at the sitting room door. A veiled serf rushed to answer, and as if he were summoned by our conversation, there in the doorway, Legion Grey stood surrounded by Tor, Siv, and Mavie.

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