Aurelia (16 page)

His expression hardened. "don't be naive. This family cannot afford another scandal."

No,
you
cannot afford another scandal.
she saw now that it had not been grief that had kept him locked away the year after her brother's funeral and her mother's departure. It had been fear. Fear of scandal. Fear of what people would say.

For the first time, she saw her father as he really was, a weak man. His support of the investigation had been a charade. He had deliberately hidden the facts that would have allowed robert to solve the case, and now he would not even consider arresting the instigator.

Instead he would marry his elder daughter to a man three times her age. The memory of edward's index finger sliding along her chin made her shudder.

she wanted to pound on the desk and argue. she wanted to reason with her father. she wanted to dismantle his tilted, stained, self-centered version of reality. but nothing could be more powerful than the events played out on the racecourse that morning before his very eyes.

she stood up.

"Aurelia."

she walked out.

"you have not been dismissed."

The door clicked on her childhood.

Aurelia climbed the stairs to Henry's rooms, her thoughts running wild.
Betrayal
--the feeling stormed her defenses. Her father had betrayed her by refusing to punish her sister. Her sister had tried to kill her. And the queen? Had elise known about melony's plan? What did it matter when the king would do nothing to punish elise either? somehow Aurelia felt that the queen would not have tolerated three failed attempts, much less four. No, elise had never accepted failure.

And melony had failed.

As had Aurelia. Failed at pleasing her father. Failed at pleasing the populace, for how could she become queen if she refused to marry the man of her father's choice? All the schooling, all the training, all the time spent trying to prove her worth had come to naught.

yet somehow, it did not matter.

Courage.
Aurelia knocked on the door.

Nothing.

Please, please be here.
she knocked again, paused, listened.

Again nothing.

He just might not be answering. After all, the rooms did not belong to him. He might assume anyone coming to the door must be there for his uncle.

"robert?" she called, knocking again. something squeaked, and she held her breath.

Then nothing.

maybe he did not want to talk to anyone. maybe he was refusing to answer the door because he was angry. He deserved to be angry.

"robert, it's me! Open the door." she pounded it with the flat of her hand.

Absolutely nothing.

gone. unable to accept the silence, she reached for the latch in frustration and pressed the lever, hard. It slid down. she released her grip and the door glided open.

emptiness. she moved forward, peering into uncle Henry's parlor. No bags, no mess, nothing that indicated someone might be packing for a journey.

Or that someone in the family had died.

she continued forward, heading for Chris's room. robert had been staying there. If he had already left, his things would be gone. she opened the door, and pulled back in shock.

A body sprawled across the bed. strands of blond hair sprayed over the pillow. rumpled skirts and petticoats hitched up around torn stockings. pale elbows splayed wide on quilt rings. melony.

Aurelia stared, speechless. even as a child, her sister had always arrived in style: face clean, hair brushed, dress spotless. Never had Aurelia seen melony cast off her shoes at the foot of the bed as they were now, never out of control, never without manners, never anything less than perfect.

What was melony doing here? In the room in which robert had been staying?

"Where is he?" Aurelia asked, the back of her mind wondering how she could remain composed in the face of her sister's ultimate betrayal. but this was not the sister Aurelia had thought she knew, not the person she had comforted, confided in, and loved. melony had incinerated those bonds and defined herself as a stranger.

The crumpled figure moved, palms digging into the covers, pushing up elbows and shoulders. A feral set of eyes peered out from behind the yellow net of loose strands. "Where is he?" Hollow words echoed back at her. "He's dead."

Chris,
Aurelia realized. Her sister had come here because of Chris, not robert. despite what robert had said about Chris's feelings for her sister, Aurelia had never imagined melony would reciprocate. Not her sister. Not the one who dangled young men from her fingertips like string and twisted them around one another in an unending game of cat's cradle.

"Not Chris, robert. Where is robert?"

"robert?" melony's voice vibrated. "Our father let him go. He's gone."

Aurelia wanted to doubt the final words, but a glance around the room confirmed their truth. Nothing remained to indicate the room had even been lived in. The walls, the floor, the wardrobe--all stood bare. No swords, no clothes, no saddlebags. she moved to the door and swung it forward. No buckskin jacket.

"He's gone!" melony's voice rose in hysteria. "He should be chained to a dungeon wall and left to starve until he's dead, like Chris. dead!"

Aurelia backed away. "Where are Chris's things?"

"Father had them burned."

Why?
Aurelia wanted to ask. Why would her father do that to Henry? but the answer came to her before she worded the question. The king would tell the public Chris was to blame for the assassination plot, for the unexplained events at the palace over the past four months, for the dead jockey on the racecourse that morning. Chris would be Father's scapegoat.

"It's your fault, you and your righteous act," melony hissed. she brushed the hair off her face and sat up on her knees. "you don't really think you'll become queen of Tyralt, do you? Father is never going to put the throne in your hands. mother says edward can't have children. If he was going to have an heir, he'd already have one, and you aren't clever enough to have a child without him. you aren't even bright enough to keep your real feelings out of court."

The conversation with melony outside elise's dressing room suddenly made sense. "you were talking about your relationship with Chris," Aurelia accused, "when you said Father would never accept a suitor without a title."

melony flung the crumpled pillow at her sister. "Now it doesn't matter, does it?!" she screamed. "you've destroyed everything. I hope edward strangles you in your marriage bed."

"I'm not going to marry king edward."

A bitter laugh ripped through the room. "yes, you are. Father hasn't told you yet?"

"yes, he told me." A strange calm settled into Aurelia's chest. she knew now that the only way to escape this insanity was to relinquish her political power. Let her father and sister suffer its dubious rewards. "but I'm not going to Anthone. I'm not staying here either. I'm leaving."

Chapter Fifteen

IN THE GARDEN

THE BRIDLE SLIPPED FROM ROBERT'S LEFT HAND. He reached out instinctively with his right to catch the sliding leather, but the pain in his injured shoulder surprised him. And the bridle dropped unchecked to the stable floor.

He buried his head in Horizon's mane. He must leave. There was no question. The king had commanded it, and it was robert's duty to obey.

Obedience, is that what you call it?
The steady rise and fall of the stallion's belly did little to stave off robert's scolding conscience. He should not leave without speaking to his uncle.

perhaps uncle Henry had known all along. perhaps he also had been involved in the assassination plot. robert had missed so many things, why not that as well? but Chris had said it was his father's idea to send for brian Vantauge. uncle Henry had written the letter. He had chosen to ask for help.

How could robert explain what had happened? How could he ask forgiveness for having killed the son of a man he loved and respected? robert knew he was too weak to do it.

bending down, he lifted the bridle from the floor.

"I tell you, lad, you never cease to surprise me!" A mammoth black hand clapped down on robert's good shoulder. The bridle went tumbling into a hay bale as drew's familiar face grinned down at him. "I'm serious, lad," drew said. "I consider myself a strong judge of character. It's a gift, you might say, the ability to see beyond the surface of most folks. but you, you show up at a horse fair, feed me a story, and ask me a simple question. When Her Highness arrived, I knew I was dealing with more than a lad interested in horses; but no matter how many times I revise my view of you, you keep surprising me."

robert retrieved the bridle again, picking off strands of straw. "What do you mean?" he asked, struggling to adapt his senses to the older man's jovial energy.

"I mean I keep underrating you. I figured you for a friend of Aurelia's, harboring an infatuation, maybe, but nothing serious. Next thing I hear, you've asked permission to escort her on an outing, asked in the presence of the entire court no less. Lad," he said, shaking his head in disbelief, "I'd have paid gold coin to see that much gumption."

robert dropped his head. The episode felt like a lifetime ago. "It wasn't what it seemed."

"That's my point." drew pounded him on the back. "Then today, the streets are full of gossip: 'bout how the princess was found almost dead on the racecourse and you retaliated by killing one of the best fencers at the palace."

robert shuddered and turned back to his horse. He could not bear the thought of having his actions heralded.

His companion did not take the hint; "I came up to hear the truth for myself; and not only are the rumors confirmed, but I also hear the same princess is embarking on an expedition of the kingdom. mind you, the departure time for this grand tour is not a year from now, not a month, not even a week, but first thing tomorrow morning. explain to me, lad, how Aurelia could have received permission for such a trip?"

Again the bridle fell to the ground. "It's not possible," robert said, more to himself than to the man beside him. Not unless she had no choice. Not unless she, like robert, had been ordered to leave. He clapped drew's arm in apology for being rude and walked past the horseman back toward the palace.

Futility washed over robert. He had failed. At everything. beginning with that first night here. Aurelia had almost been poisoned at her sister's coming-out party, and he had never thought to connect the two events. Without his presence, she never would have been in danger on Carnival night because Chris would never have seen her disguise. And she certainly would never have been alone in the arena this morning without his urging.

He should have known. should have known he was in over his head when she had surprised him in drew's tent, when she found out he was keeping something from her, when she had run away from him in the city. His father had been right. robert had no business acting as royal spy. He had allowed his heart to make the decisions and let his feelings for Aurelia impair his judgment. He needed to apologize.

As if in answer to his thoughts, uncle Henry intercepted him. The older man's fingers closed around robert's upper left arm with surprising strength and led him across the courtyard, then around the outside of the west wing, where a vast lawn stretched out in terraces. gray rectangular ponds ran through the center into the distance, and sculpted bushes lined the waterway. even the plants in this place were manipulated by others.

uncle Henry led his nephew past the main gardens into a walled alcove tucked between the back of the west wing and the older section of the palace. A small fountain trickled in a corner, and young trees and bushes lined the outskirts, their shades of green broken now and again by yellow flower buds. robert sat down on the smooth stone ring surrounding the fountain and waited for his uncle's fury. but the man whose son had died just stood staring at the foliage as a breeze prickled the thin grasses and shuddery leaves. memories hounded the quiet, memories of Chris: building towers of scrap wood in the carpentry shed, molding palaces of sand along the river's edge, making fun of fencing instructors in the practice yard.

uncle Henry finally spoke, resignation lining his face. "your father is a brave man." robert started to stand, but his uncle waved him down. "He asked me to come with him when he left. I should have agreed, but I was too taken up with position and stability. It is ironic, I suppose, that his son has returned to show me the flimsiness of that stability."

robert found his voice. "I am so sorry, uncle Henry. I know nothing can atone for what I've done."

"I allowed you to take on the case. If there is guilt to be had, I must swallow as much as you." Henry looked down at him. "I cannot have you at the funeral, lad. still, I do not blame you." A shaky hand rested on robert's shoulder. For a moment the older man's eyes shone down too brightly. "you take after your father."

The words flowed like water into robert's mind, cleansing the blood and the darkness. Not that the pain would ever go away. Or the loss.

uncle Henry turned away, his shoulders more curved and his back more bent than they had been that morning. but there was strength in that body, in that mind. strength beyond the physical.

"you could come with me now," robert burst out. "I'm sure my father would welcome you."

The gray head shook. "I've served this ruler most of my life." There was a pause. "And I intend to live to serve a better one."

Henry?
Aurelia slowed in her mad search of the palace grounds. robert's uncle sat slouched on a low stoop, sunlight shining on his head as he stared blindly across the practice-yard sand. Her first reaction was to change direction, to allow space for his grief. An attempt to comfort him with her presence would do little but remind him of why his son had died. she turned to go . . .

Then stopped, remembering Chris's barren bedroom. How much did Henry know about what had happened today? perhaps her father had told his adviser the truth. Henry had known about the assassination plot. He had known about edward's desire to marry her. she suspected he knew melony's true parentage as well. but she should speak to him, make certain he knew his son was not the sole culprit.

slowly, she made her way to the older man's shoulder, allowing her feet to shuffle a bit on the marble path so as not to startle him. "Chris did it for melony," she said, a sharp pain shooting through her chest as she spoke the names. "He was not in control of the plot. she was."

The older man waved a hand to quiet her. "I know," he said, then lapsed into silence.

she stood for a minute, uncertain what else to say to offer comfort; but as the seconds ticked by, her thoughts returned to her search for robert. she had found Horizon in the stables and the filled saddlebags in the stall corner but had had no success tracking down the stallion's owner. she must find him, could not allow him to drift out of her life. "Have . . . have you seen your nephew?" she asked softly, not wanting to injure Henry further but desperate enough to risk it.

A furrow creased his forehead as he looked at her. For a moment she thought he might burst out in anger as her sister had done. but his words, when they came, were resigned, not angry. "robert was in the walled garden behind the east wing when I saw him last."

Her pulse quickened. she had not expected a real answer. "Thank you," she breathed, and turned to follow his directions.

A palm clasped her hand, holding her in check. "I had not meant to raise hopes, your Highness," he said. "I saw my nephew there in the early afternoon. It has been several hours."

Her lips murmured that she understood, but her feet moved on at a hurried pace, gathering speed as she swept around the back of the palace.
The gardens
; she had looked there, but only on the main lawn, not in the walled alcove. she told herself not to expect him there. Not to hope.

The sun hit the horizon, light shimmering orange upon the leaves as she stepped into the garden. Her eyes found robert.
He was there.
On the stone ring beside the fountain, one foot propped in front of him, shoulders curved, head facing away toward the tangled hedges. He did not see her.

How long had he been sitting there like this? going over the events of the morning. drowning in the horrors of this day.

Nerves roiled within her stomach. Could she tell him what she must--in the right way? In a way that would ease the pain? Not erase it. No words, no actions, could eliminate the truth of that mangled body crumpled in the soil, the hatred brimming from her sister's face, the empty husk of her father's weakness. And no words could bring back Chris.

"It isn't your fault." she let her voice ring in the stillness.

robert lifted his head without turning to face her. "I killed my own cousin."

"I know," she said, her gaze falling to his wounded shoulder. "I'm sorry."

still, he did not turn around. perhaps he was angry with her for not standing up to her father. she remembered her alarm at robert's dismissal. but at the time it was only one more nightmarish event in a morning of revelations. she had been reeling from the discovery of her sister's malice and her father's deceit. And she had failed to speak up on robert's behalf.

"my father wasn't strong enough to make the right decision," she tried to explain. "I should have known he wouldn't be, but I didn't."

"He was right," robert said.

"No, he wasn't." she could not allow him to believe that.

"He was right about me placing you in danger. This morning I thought I understood everything: the plan, the plot, my feelings for you . . . " robert trailed off. "Then when I saw you fall on the racecourse and I thought you were dead . . . " There was a long pause. "I don't ever want to feel that way again, Aurelia."

Her heart thundered, and she took a step closer.

still he did not turn. "And now you've been exiled." robert lifted a hand through his dark hair. "I put your life at risk for nothing."

she stared at him, confused. Why would he feel guilt for her exile? but that was robert, trying to shoulder responsibility for a task neither her father nor his had dared take on. "No," she replied. "I chose to leave." she struggled to put her revelation into words. "my father wants me to marry edward of Anthone, and that is an exile I cannot accept. I'm done living my life in the confines of others' dreams, done waiting to live my own. I am going on an expedition of Tyralt." she stepped closer.

robert lowered his hand, dropping it to the stone surface. His back rose and fell. "What about your father?"

"my father is not brave enough to stop me. He is terrified of scandal." bitterness slipped out with her words. "No doubt he'll announce that I've relinquished my right to the throne and name melony in my place, but he will also provide me with the supplies and an armed escort for my expedition because he won't want me to tell the populace what really happened today. I am going to travel every inch of the kingdom if I wish. No one will dictate where I go or whom I see." determination sprouted in Aurelia's chest. "Let melony use her powers of persuasion to avoid marrying edward. I will meet the people of this kingdom,
my
kingdom, whether or not I wear a crown."

"A leader is not decided by a crown," robert said, "but by the people who believe in and follow that leader."

she had no response for that. Her mind was already racing ahead to what she needed to say next. Her hands clenched with the fear of laying bare her heart.

"you're leaving in the morning?" he asked in a hollow voice.

"yes . . . but I have a problem." she was now quite close to robert, so close she could hear his unsteady breathing. Fear of rejection flared in her chest. perhaps he would prefer a life on the frontier, without politics and her royal shadow.
But that night on the bridge,
her heart argued,
he said he wanted to see the corners of the world.
she pushed aside the fear and leaped. "I need an expedition guide."

The terror of silence met her statement.

but now she had begun, she must finish. "A guide I can trust." Her words came out slow and deliberate. "someone who knows the land and does not mind traveling and meeting new people."

He inhaled sharply.

"you," she said, "are the only person I can trust."

He turned now and faced her, his blue eyes wide with the possibility she presented. That gaze. There was power in that gaze, something that drew her in and held her. but it was not constricting. It did not push down on her from above. It simply was. And her heart told her it was a good place to be.

"Aurelia." His voice wavered.

"please, robert," she whispered. "I need you at my side." she stretched out a hand and ran it along the edge of his face. There were traces of tearstains there and hurt and anger, but they were all old, covered now by a different emotion. "Will you guide my expedition?"