Fireblood (31 page)

Devlan has spent the past two days stationed in the knights’ quarters on the opposite wing of the castle, training for the last match of the tournament. He’s being watched closely by the Force, and we couldn’t take the chance we’d be caught together and have it reported back to Sebastian. Xander took over my training, but we’ve only had an hour each day during my morning rides. Anything more is too risky.

Xander continually tells me of Devlan’s confidence in my skills, and it’s what I desire to hear. Only, I need to hear Devlan’s endorsement with my own ears, look into his eyes as he says it, but I know that’s asking too much. I trust he’d stop the mission if he were unsure.

Every moment that I’ve not been with Madity making preparations, I’ve been with Sebastian. Late-night suppers. Dancing beneath the stars at the tourney celebrations. Long walks around the lake, where I tried to coax him into the pleasant conversation we once shared. And all the while, my soul was burdened with guilt.

Guilt that I have failed him. Guilt that I have failed my father.

And Devlan.

Although my attempts to garner Sebastian’s trust have proven somewhat beneficial, as he’s removed my second guard, I’m not sure it’s enough. Every time he attempted to kiss me, my heart panged, and I pulled away. He believes I have strong convictions about marriage, and Devlan’s absence has helped, but I still see the doubt in his eyes.

All around me is doubt. It festers in the air, and I struggle to breathe through the suffocation of it.

After the last event—the battle between Sebastian and Devlan—I must convince Sebastian to take me to King Hart. I’ll have mere hours before the ceremony starts, and my mind struggles with what I must do.

I envision Devlan’s confident features, his sturdy voice as he tells me to see this through. However, I also feel the doubt that’s been with me from the beginning. I believe Sebastian can come out of this a good leader, a good person. But his recent bouts of anger and the cool, calculated look he gets lately splinter my mind with more poisonous thorns of doubt. What if losing his father sends him in the opposite direction?

Telling Sebastian the truth would open his eyes, and there might not be a need to continue this lie. There might be another way to stop Hart altogether. Or it could backfire, and I could lose Sebastian completely to the darkness seething in him. There are too many scenarios to factor in.

Right now, I can’t consider them. I have to continue with the Rebel’s plan. It’s been in effect long before I was involved, so it’s possible I’m only getting “cold feet.” Just not in the traditional wedding style.

As we reach the tournament, the stands are already full. All of Karm has come to watch their prince face off with last season’s defending champion. My head swims as I search the knights gathered on the sidelines.

Sebastian requested that I meet him near the tent before the match starts, and I’m late. Dammit. I can’t afford to slip up now.

“There.” Xander points to Sebastian suiting up in his armor next to the tent flaps.

I breathe a sigh of relief and head toward him.

“Zara,” Sebastian says. “I was worried you’d gotten lost.” He finishes adjusting his armor, and then kisses my hand. “I didn’t want to go in without my good-luck charm’s well wishes.”

Smiling, I allow him to hold my hand, and I even step into his embrace. “I had a difficult time spotting you amongst the other knights.” I mentally slap myself. “Until I spied your strong physique, that is.”

His eyes bloom with pride. Sebastian has always responded well to compliments. “As stimulated as I am by this battle, it doesn’t compare to the eagerness I feel for tonight.” His eyes linger on my face, and my stomach quivers at his implied innuendo. “When I can announce to all that you’re my wife, my queen, and my love.”

I give him a relieved smile, but his eyes move past me, to something over my shoulder. I start to turn my head to follow his gaze, but he quickly pulls me close, and I catch my breath. His fingers weave their way into my hair, and he presses his lips to mine. I’m shocked only a moment before I push against his chest, try to back him away. His lips are hard and forceful, claiming every inch of me for himself.

The announcer on the field introduces the tourney and Sebastian pulls away. “To be continued soon,” he says, then turns and struts toward his audience.

My stomach twists, and I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth. As I turn, I see what Sebastian glimpsed over my shoulder, and my heart slams against my rib cage.

Devlan stands a few feet away, sword in hand, his face drawn in anger. I can see the rise and fall of his chest, the fury simmering as he stares after Sebastian.

I step toward him, but Xander catches my arm. “Not now, princess.”

Devlan’s name is announced from the platform. His eyes latch onto me as he closes the gap between us, making his way to the field.

“Devlan.” I breathe his name before he passes, but he only returns his gaze to the stage.

Xander ushers me toward the stands. My legs are numb as I climb the bleachers. When we’re seated in the box, I stare at the platform below as they prepare for the match. My breathing is labored, and I grip the locket around my neck, wanting to yank it off.

Maybe Sebastian is convinced I don’t have affections for another, but he still believes that Devlan has feelings for
me
. He purposely staked his claim on me to infuriate Devlan before their match. Anger boils in my chest.

Xander leans into me. “Zara,” he whispers. “Devlan doesn’t fault you. He’s not angry
with
you, as he knows this is part of the mission. He’s angered by the situation.”

I nod slowly, my neck stiff with tension. “And if it were Fallon?” I turn my head to meet his eyes.

He groans and looks to the platform. “Sebastian would be a dead man.”

My palms slick with sweat, and I run them along my dress as Sebastian and Devlan meet in the center. The announcer waves a white flag and their swords clang together. The sound sends a tremor down my spine, and I dig my fingers into my thighs.

I watched Sebastian take on many men during the melee, but Devlan too has faced the same number and come out the victor. I don’t know how evenly matched they are, or who holds the most spite for the other. All I know is both have scores to settle.

Sebastian believes Devlan is after his betrothed, maybe even assumes it’s revenge for what he did to Devlan years back. And Devlan…what? Does he truly feel Sebastian is a threat? No. He can’t possibly. Although, he does carry the deep scar of a painful wound, and Sebastian’s bruises on my wrists and arms may have reopened it.

I grip my legs tighter as Sebastian swipes the air before him. Devlan barely lunges out of the way before Sebastian’s sword comes at him again. My breath halts. I remind myself this is a sport. A tourney. No one will be harmed.

Sebastian’s blade nicks Devlan’s wrist and red drips to the platform. A cry lodges in my throat as I bite it back. I now recall Devlan explaining that the last battles are fought with real swords. Dammit. I should’ve spoken with Devlan before he went in. I want to rush down there and plant myself between them—stop the tourney. All I can do is watch, hold my breath, and wait.

Devlan slashes his sword across Sebastian’s armored chest. The prince stumbles back. Devlan advances on him, unrelenting as he continues to attack armor. No points for the hits, but he doesn’t go for the points. He wants Sebastian weary and battered. As Devlan draws his sword above his head for another strike, Sebastian dives into him, grabbing him around the waist and taking him to the ground.

I look to the sideline, my breath stuck in my throat, waiting for someone to call Sebastian on his technicality. No one does, though, and it seems that the prince is allowed certain liberties. Of course.

Sebastian rises up and lifts his sword to deliver the killing blow.

I spring from my seat but Xander quickly pulls me back down. “Princess—” he warns. I barely hear him. Everything around me is muted as I await the final strike.

Devlan jams the hilt of his sword into Sebastian’s ribs, and the prince doubles over. Next he delivers a hard punch to Sebastian’s face. The crowd roars. Some boo; others cheer. They’re evenly divided for which man they root for.

As Devlan gets to his feet, Sebastian follows, relentlessly meeting his foe’s advancing swings. Sebastian stumbles as Devlan sends a blow to his leg, and I see his opening. Devlan has a clear shot to Sebastian’s heart.

He doesn’t take it.

I frown, studying the sloppy swing he chooses to deliver to Sebastian’s shoulder instead. While Sebastian regroups, Devlan looks to the crowd. To me.

He meets Sebastian’s sword with his own and falls back, allowing Sebastian to have the upper hand. It’s clear what he’s doing, at least to me, and certainly to Xander. He’s throwing the fight.

My chest constricts. I know how difficult this has to be for Devlan. Here, now…in front of everyone, he can lay the prince down. But he’s choosing the mission. My heart splits with pride and remorse, two halves battling. Devlan’s focused on why we’re here, and he’s doing it as much for me as for our cause.

Securing the win for Sebastian will have the prince in high spirits; I’ll have a better chance of convincing him to take me to King Hart.

Sebastian knocks Devlan to the platform and thrusts his sword down, spiking the point against the armor guarding Devlan’s heart. The regulator calls the winner. It’s Sebastian.

My head drops into my hands and I take in a deep breath before I rise and cheer for my betrothed. I force a smile on my face and join the clapping of the crowd.

“Let’s go, princess,” Xander says. “You need to congratulate the victor.”

I stand and move to the end of the row. Xander follows behind, guiding me down the risers as my eyes stay steady on the platform.

Devlan and Sebastian shake hands. Even from this distance, I see the strain on Devlan’s face. He fought a battle within himself as much as he dueled with Sebastian. And he won.

But this is just the start of our battles today.

THIRTY

T
he gate opens, and a line of carriages brings citizens toward the castle.

Tea lights strung from the branches sway, and the castle grounds are lit with blazing torches. Court is abuzz with excitement over tonight’s ceremony.

Running my fingers over my father’s initials on the hilt beneath my slip, I feel sentimental. I spent many days on my balcony pondering my world, my choices. It’s as if I’m standing where it all began. And now, soon, it will end. I say a silent prayer to the wind, hoping there is someone in the clouds who hears my plea. That my father and mother hear the love I have for them. Even if my father’s mind is gone, I pray that he can feel it.

“My lady?” Madity’s soft voice comes from behind.

I turn and face her, clearing the tears from my eyes. “I’m ready.”

Her steps are slow and determined. She stops right before me, her eyes serious, her face showing more strain than I’ve ever seen before. “When I was younger,” she says. “I had hard choices to make myself.” She pulls a necklace from beneath her bodice. Dangling in the center of the silver chain is a winged crest.

A Rebel crest.

My heart shudders in my chest, and my lips part.

She ignores my confused expression and continues. “You once asked me if I
have
any children.” She smiles thoughtfully, sad seams lining her mouth. “You never asked if I
had
any. I know the laws, and I keep to myself. But my husband had beliefs, and it cost us everything.”

I look around my room, worried about the listening devices, but she hasn’t said anything too incriminating, and she palms the crest. She never ceases to surprise me with her cunning.

She pulls the necklace off over her head, then drapes it over mine, tucking the crest under my slip.

Tears brim the corners of my eyes, and my lips tremble. “I don’t know the right thing to do,” I admit.

She places a tender kiss on my forehead, and then stares into my eyes. “You have come too far in discovering who Zara is. No one can dictate your life. It’s yours alone. No matter what vows you take, what promises you offer, in the end, it is only you.” Her eyes hold mine. “I trust you know the right course of action. You need only be brave enough to do what your heart tells you.”

My chest aches. I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her close. “Thank you, Madity.”

She hugs me tightly, then backs away. “Time to put on your gown, princess.” She walks to my bed and lifts it. “His Highness had it made just for you.”

I walk to the gown and snatch it up, gripping the white fabric. Turning toward Madity, I give her a knowing smirk. “Then why doesn’t he wear it?”

She laughs.

* * *

Hearing Devlan’s voice over the communicator firmed my convictions. I shouldn’t have contacted him with our plan unfolding this close, but I needed to hear his voice. I need to see him, but first I have to do what I know is right.

Madity covered for me, sending Xander to fetch some lace. She made a stink about the servant girl bringing the wrong kind. As soon as he left the hallway, I dashed down the corridor, the train of my wedding dress trailing behind me.

I told Devlan to stall, and to keep stalling until he heard back from me. No one is to commence any part of the mission until they hear from me.

I’m taking command of this mission.

There are yet two hours before the ceremony, and I’ve wasted enough time thinking. It’s now time for action.

Madity lost her family, lost her child and her husband to the Virus Hart created to control his sordid world. The real world may be wretched enough, but nothing compares to his sick schemes that control us all. I won’t allow Sebastian to fall prey to his father’s ways. The madness, the schemes, the lying—they all have to stop.

I round the corner to Sebastian’s chamber. As I reach his door, I pound on the hard wood.

The door swings open, and Sebastian’s curious eyes meet mine. “Zara, what are you doing here?” He shakes his head. “No mind. I’m actually happy you’ve come. I was just on my way to you. I have a surprise. And we must hurry before the ceremony.”