unhappy….” All of them flinched at the hurt in those last words. More than injured pride, and Savedra’s chest ached; he loved Ashlin after all, or something close. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me whose it is? As long as it’s not my father, I think I could stand to hear anything.”
That drew an outraged laugh, but Ashlin sobered quickly. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to say.”
“No,” Savedra said slowly, pushing herself off her knees. “But it is mine.”
They both startled. Nikos’s goblet teetered on the sideboard and fell, spraying wine across the carpet with a metallic thunk; Ashlin groped at her belt for an absent blade. She flushed as Savedra stepped out of the shadows. “Vedra—”
“My place,” she went on, cutting her off. “My place, and my child.”
Nikos blinked, and his jaw slackened in confusion. It tightened again with the realization that followed. “You can’t mean—”
“Yes. I’m the—” Her voice broke. “The father. Forgive me. No, forgive Ashlin. I understand mine is the worse betrayal.”
Nikos lurched away from the wall and Savedra tensed for shouting, for rage, even for a blow. But he turned back to the sideboard to fetch a new goblet and pour more wine. His hand shook and garnet-red drops splashed the table.
“It was my fault,” Ashlin said. “I pressed the matter, abused my position and Savedra’s trust.”
“Please.” He laughed bitterly and raised his cup. His throat worked as he swallowed. “You said no lies. I know you too well for that.”
“I’m no ravished maiden,” Savedra said, her voice so dry she hardly recognized it. “Let’s place no blame beyond what we’ve earned.”
“Vedra—” His eyes were dangerously liquid. Her composure would shatter if his did. “Is it over, then? Between us?”
She started forward, stopped short as if held by a leash. Her cheeks tingled; her hands shook. “I love you. I love you as I always have. I would never leave you willingly, but what I’ve done—” She forced the words past her tightening throat. “It’s treason.”
“You love me.” No mockery, no doubt. “Do you love Ashlin, too?”
She saw the princess tense as if for a blow. No assassin could ever wound them all so gracefully. “Yes.”
“Well, then.” He drained the rest of his cup. “Doubtless my father could be decisive about something like this, but I don’t think I can. I need time, and more wine. I trust neither of you have spoken of this to anyone else? Good,” he said when they both nodded. “Then please don’t. I—Excuse me.” With that, he left, easing the door shut behind him so it didn’t make a sound.
Ashlin and Savedra stared at each other.
“When did you know?” Savedra managed at last.
“I’ve worried since we got back from Evharis. The timing was right for a child to catch—which I should have thought of then, but I was too drunk and stupid. And then this morning my breasts began to ache, and I knew.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I looked for you this morning. I thought of waiting, but that would only have put the burden on you, and been a coward’s choice. I’m sorry, Vedra. It seems that all we can do is hurt one another.”
She turned back to her rooms and shut the door behind her.
Savedra stood for a moment, stunned and sick, before she remembered the reason she’d needed to talk to Nikos in the first place. With a curse she ran after Ashlin, catching her before she reached the door of her suite.
“Wait! Saints, Ashlin, your timing is impossible.” She couldn’t look the princess in the eye, but she forced out an explanation of Phaedra and Isyllt’s suspicions.
“Blood and iron,” Ashlin swore. “No, we can’t let him wander off to drink himself stupid now. Where would he go?”
They searched the library, the stables, and the wine cellar with no luck, and Savedra silently cursed the cold and empty halls. Whenever she and Nikos tried to find a moment alone, the palace was crawling with servants, and now it was desolate.
An hour passed before they found a groundskeeper who pointed them toward the palace temple. The memory of the black crypts and the queen’s empty coffin sped Savedra’s stride, till Ashlin had to jog to keep pace.
His guards waited inside the temple, but directed Ashlin down to the crypt. “His Highness ordered us to leave him,” the unhappy sergeant said. And, more reluctantly, “He’s been drinking.”
Ashlin’s smile didn’t fool anyone. “I think I can carry him if he’s too drunk to walk. Stay here.