The Faceless Mage - Kenley Davidson Page 0,73
to feel something. And he was far too paranoid—too controlling—to leave that alone. He would want to know, and if he could not know, he would want to destroy. He would take steps to ensure that his Raven was under his complete control, and those steps would not be pleasant.
One more piece of the Raven’s soul would be sacrificed to appease the king’s need for security, and he wasn’t sure he could afford to lose any more. Not without losing the last bits of himself he still clung to.
“If things don’t settle down, I’ll be forced to take measures,” the king said, as if discussing a thing, not a person. “I don’t like it when you get your own ideas. So whatever you’re thinking, stop. Or I’ll have to take you off this job and send you out hunting mages again, where it won’t matter so much if you screw up.”
The Raven did not move, breathe, or think. He simply was. Because that was what the king expected—a death-dealer without a heart or a conscience.
“Now, do you have anything to report about the princess’s disposition regarding the alliance? Any sign of treachery from her guards?”
Melger had insisted that he not permit her guards to poison her against Garimore. Well, one had tried, but the boy had not succeeded, so there was nothing to report. Melger had also intended the Raven to inform him if the princess or her people engaged in treachery, or if his son did anything to endanger the treaty. But nothing in his wording required the Raven to make a report, so he would not.
And finally, Melger had instructed him to send word the moment the princess decided for or against the marriage.
But the Raven had just realized that the woman he was guarding wasn’t actually the princess, so for the briefest moment, he allowed himself a smile beneath the mask.
The king’s orders were, effectively, meaningless. So he shook his head once.
“Hmm.” Melger seemed frustrated by his reply. Had he been hoping for treachery?
It would, the Raven realized, accomplish Garimore’s goals just as well as an alliance. If Melger could claim that the princess had come only to spy on them, he could declare war on Farhall and take it over with a snap of his fingers, and the other three Thrones would be unlikely to balk.
In fact… Could that have been the king’s goal all along? Might that have been his reason for removing all witnesses and subjecting the remaining guests to conditions no ordinary royal party would endure?
He should warn the princess. She needed to know…
But no. He should not. She did not. There was no connection between them. The Raven forced his mind back to a state of blankness.
“Perhaps the next few days will prove more fruitful,” King Melger finally said, and the Raven felt his captor’s frustration alongside his eagerness. “We have only a few short weeks in which to convince them of our desire for this alliance, so we must move quickly. And she must not suspect that you are anything other than a sign of my respect for Farhall.”
He cast the Raven a glance from under lowered brows. “The princess does not suspect you, does she?”
The Raven shook his head once more. The real Princess Evaraine of Farhall had no idea he even existed.
“Very well.” Melger sighed. “When Vaniell produced that wretched courting gift…” he paused, frowning. “I know he would betray me if he could, but obviously, he was only toying with me. Someday I will repay him for his defiance, but not until…” He trailed off and shot the Raven a startled look. As if surprised to find that he was talking to his pet.
“Never mind,” he said suddenly. “Evaraine would not know how to make use of such a thing, even if it were given to her.”
Men like Melger always underestimated those they didn’t understand, and in this case, he’d underestimated the woman he thought of as Evaraine. She knew very well what she had, and what it said about the one who made it.
A clash was coming, sooner or later. And the Raven was beginning to wonder whether Melger had finally found an obstacle that might slow him down.
Not stop him. He had too much power on his side for that. And eventually, he would simply command his Raven to kill, and the Raven would. That was how these things always ended.
But maybe, just maybe…
The Raven recalled a pair of bright, curious green eyes and reminded himself