she drifted soundlessly through the rooms and halls, more of a shadow than a presence, she caught the passing words of servants and courtiers alike. Few were of interest, as most folks were caught up in their own day-to-day concerns. A maid spoke of her crush on a handsome guardsman, while a young Marquess fretted over his father’s demand that he stop spending money so freely. Two guards argued over which of them was due for a promotion sooner, while a pair of weary clerks headed towards the gates, ready for home after a long day of balancing ledgers.
Her wandering feet took her to parts of the castle she’d never seen before, and eventually led her outside, where she climbed from the top level of the palace down to a portion of the outer wall. The shadows enabled her to avoid the guards as she made her way around to a turret well within rope-toss distance of the single balcony on the entire castle.
Leisa swung herself across right over the heads of two guards below, then pulled herself up and over the railing to pause behind a cluster of potted trees.
So much for Melger’s security. This was a perfect hiding spot for an assassin. But perhaps, she thought bitterly, his guards were so busy hunting down mages, they were stretched too thin to be focused on protecting the castle from internal threats.
Or, they simply weren’t that worried. This balcony led to the king’s own apartments, which undoubtedly contained a full complement of guards whenever the king was within.
As Leisa was hoping he would be tonight.
Clinging carefully to the shadows, she slunk nearer the doors until she found a good spot to crouch in the darkness and simply listen.
For the first hour, she heard nothing but the night breezes and the footsteps of the guards patrolling below, but her patience was eventually rewarded by the sound of a door crashing open.
King Melger’s heavy footfalls entered his suite, followed by the sounds of arguing.
“…my patience is at its end. I’ve warned you of the consequences if you fail to bring him to heel, and I will not stay my hand forever!”
The other voice was softer. Melting, where the king’s was icy. Female.
“…done all I can. Why can you not see that he is suffering, too? You blame the boy, blame me, but it’s your own fear that goads you. Ever since you returned from that tour, you’ve been driven by this… this madness, and I don’t understand it!”
“Madness? Is it madness, then, to protect this kingdom by any means at my disposal? Madness to ask your son to serve his people in this one small way? I’ve allowed him to wallow in his dissipated life at your insistence, but now that I ask one simple thing, he denies me with a smirk on his lips. Puts me off incessantly. Drinks himself into oblivion instead of doing his duty.”
“…cannot make him resigned to this marriage by yelling.”
“No, but I can motivate him with the only threat that has ever seemed to work.”
Silence.
“You bastard,” the queen said finally, but it was with a note of defeat. “When did you become so cold that you would threaten your own family? Sometimes I believe you invented this story of my unfaithfulness for no better reason than to use it against your own son.”
Whoa.
Leisa had hoped to hear something she could use, but this was not at all what she’d had in mind.
Vaniell was illegitimate?
Or at least, Melger believed him to be. The queen seemed to be denying it, but apparently, Vaniell considered it likely enough that he was willing to do the king’s bidding when threatened with exposure.
Oh, this explained so much. And yet, there was so much else it did not explain.
But no wonder Vaniell was willing to marry Evaraine. It would give him the legitimacy he lacked, and prevent his father from using that as a weapon against him in the future.
But what made them think he was putting it off? Vaniell had done nothing but try to convince her to agree to this marriage.
Well, Leisa supposed he could have tried harder. Stopped drinking and flirting. Spent more time being agreeable. But the marriage was not truly in either of their hands, so what more did Melger expect him to do?
“…toying with me,” the king was saying. “I saw the look on his face when he gave her that ‘courting gift.’ He knows it’s a slap in the face… nothing I can do. No