The Crimson Crown (33 page)

This was so ludicrous, the dog such an unexpected walk-on, that Raisa couldn’t help laughing, though her eyes were blurred with tears.

“A
dog
? You’re a wanted man, accused of treason, and you brought a dog into this?” She shook her head. “Is that fair to the dog?”

“Wasn’t my idea,” Han said. He looked up at Raisa, tired, travel worn, and desperate. “He wouldn’t stay where I put him. He kept following me, so I finally had to give him a ride so he wouldn’t run himself to death.”

Raisa’s heart twisted.
This is the man they accuse of murdering wizards? This is the ruthless killer plotting against me?
And the conviction within her flared up brighter than ever:
I don’t care how many witnesses they have. I don’t care what the evidence says. There is no way.

“Hear me out,” Han said. “And then if you want to have me arrested, I won’t resist.”

I don’t want to have you arrested, Raisa thought. How could you think I would want that?

And yet—you’ve kept secrets from me since the day we met. We can’t go on like this.

“I’ll listen,” Raisa said, “if you’re ready to tell me the truth.” She patted the bench beside her. “Come, sit down. I assume it will take a while.”

Han crossed the garden, the dog at his heels, and sat down, resting his hands on the stone bench, the breeze from Hanalea ruffling his fair hair. He seemed at a loss for how to begin.

“I’m not very good at this,” he said, his voice so soft Raisa could scarcely hear it. “All my life, I’ve kept things to myself. When everyone around you is out for blood, it’s safer that way.” He cleared his throat, looked at her. “It’s not an excuse. Just an explanation.”

Raisa stared out into the garden, the silence between them thick as winter honey. Gray shadows padded toward them. Raisa’s ancestors—
their
ancestors—formed a circle around them, as if to insulate them from the world.

The dog pressed himself against their legs, hackles raised, growling low in his throat. Han stroked his head, gazing out at the circle of wolves. “Just a little extra pressure, right?”

A trick of their shared blood, Raisa thought, with a rush of understanding. No wonder he can see the ancient queens.

“So. I can just start in talking. Or you can ask me questions.” Han looked up hopefully. “And I promise to tell the truth.”

Raisa sighed, wondering if she really wanted to hear it. “Is it true we are related?”

“Yes.”

“And our ancestors are Queen Hanalea and Alger Waterlow?”

“Yes.”

“This is news to me, but apparently you’ve known for some time.” It was a statement, not a question, but Han nodded anyway.
“So why did I have to hear from someone else?”
Raisa said in a rush, her voice low and furious.

“I wanted to tell you,” Han said. “But I was afraid to. I didn’t know…I had enough strikes against me already. I thought you might send me away.”

“Yet you put on the Waterlow colors. Why would you, if you wanted to keep it a secret?”

“I can’t really explain that, except that for the first time I felt like I had a history, a bloodline. I wanted to claim it.”

“Blood. And. Bones!” Raisa burst out. “Why would you want to claim
that
history? We descend from the greatest villain who ever lived.”

“It wasn’t really like that,” Han said. “You don’t know the whole story.”

“And you do?”

He nodded. “Pretty much.” He met her gaze frankly, inviting the next question.

Raisa wasn’t going to allow herself to be distracted. “You told Fiona Bayar, though, didn’t you? About your ancestry?”

Han hunched his shoulders. “I sort of did,” he said.

“Sort of?”

“It was a mistake. I lost my temper. She asked me to crew for her, to go in on shares.”

“That’s not what she said.”

Han raised an eyebrow. “Really? What did Fiona say?”

“She said you told her you carried Gray Wolf blood and you intended to become king.” She paused, cleared her throat. “She said you tried to talk her into being your consort.”

“That’s not true!” he flared.

“You never said that?” Raisa lifted her chin.

“Well.” Han looked down at his hands. “I did say something like that.”

“And yet I should trust you?” Despite her best efforts, Raisa’s voice cracked.

“She wanted me to kill you and your sister so she could make a play for the throne, all right?” Han said. “
She’d
be queen and she offered me consort. I just suggested maybe it should be the other way around. I didn’t mean for any of it to actually happen.”

The encircling wolves stirred, yipping softly.

“That makes me feel so much better,” Raisa growled. “Does Micah know Fiona wants to be queen?”

“I have no idea what Micah knows,” Han said. “You spend a lot more time with him than I do.”

Raisa bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fiona said you gave Micah permission to court you.” Han cocked his head. “As long as we’re telling truths.”

Raisa came to her feet, cheeks burning, fists clenched. “I have no intention of marrying Micah Bayar.”

“Oh? So you’re allowed to believe what Fiona says about me, but I’m not supposed to believe what she says about you.”

“But you just admitted that you told her—”

“I figured if I said no, she’d just find somebody else to do the deed. I wanted to be on the inside so I’d have a chance of stopping her.” He paused. “Anyway, I thought I needed her help to be elected High Wizard. Something
you
asked me to do, Your Majesty.”

It came back to her, the conversation with Han when she’d asked him to stand for High Wizard.
Let’s be clear on this
, he’d said.
You want me to do whatever it takes to make this happen? Things you might not like?

“Fiona said she only met with you in order to gather more evidence so she could bring it to me,” Raisa said.

Han rolled his eyes. “Believe whatever you want. My read on it was she was dead serious until I brought Dancer and Willo to the council meeting. She confronted me, furious, and I told her to take a walk. Then she came to you.”

“Still…someone was plotting to murder me and you didn’t see fit to tell me?”

Han smiled, his first of the evening. “Your Majesty, there’s an entire lineup of people plotting to kill you. What’s one more?” His smile faded. “But you’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m…I’m used to handling things myself.”

“You’ve also been implicated in the wizard murders. You were seen in Ragmarket the night the Gryphons were killed, crouching over their bodies.”

“Mick and Hallie, right?” Han rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Bones. I hoped they hadn’t recognized me.”

“Well?”

“I
was
in Ragmarket that night,” Han admitted. “I told you. I was walking the streets, trying to entice the killer to come after me. I got word there were two more bodies—fresh ones—so I went to check them out, looking for clues. That’s when the bluejackets showed up.” He spread his hands in a plea for understanding. “I ran. I just…Instinct takes over, you know? If you stop to think on the streets, you’re dead.”

“Why didn’t you come to me about any of this?” Raisa said.

“Because I was afraid that you’d think I was guilty,” Han said. “Why wouldn’t you? I have the history, maybe a motive, and there’s a dozen people whispering in your ear, telling you I’m dangerous. That’s why I was so desperate to find out who really did it.”

“They found a talisman under the bodies,” Raisa said. “A clan piper in rowan and oak, inlaid with turquoise.”

“Cat told me,” Han said, his face gone hard and pale.

“Well?”

“It’s mine,” he said.

“I know. I’ve seen you wearing it.”

“I lost it a week or so before the killings. I didn’t know what happened to it, so I asked Dancer to make me another.”

“Do you know where you lost it?” Raisa said.

“No.” He shook his head. “I mainly use it for…for one particular purpose,” he said. “So I didn’t realize it was gone—not right away. I have no idea how it got there.”

Raisa took a breath. “Did Cat tell you about Flinn?”

Han nodded, massaging the back of his neck. “It’s my fault. I never should have brought him onto my crew. Based on my past, he really believed that I was the one killing wizards. And after he overheard my conversation with Fiona, I can’t blame him for thinking I was out to murder you. He did the right thing, coming to you about it.”

“So he
was
working for you?”

“Eyes and ears only. I can’t be everywhere at once.” Han paused. “Where is he now?”

Raisa’s face heated. “We don’t know. We’re looking for him.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“When Flinn and Amon came to see me, Cat was here, and that seemed to rattle him. We tried to reassure him, but he kept saying he was a dead man now that he’d told. The Wolves escorted him to Kendall House for safekeeping, but somehow he slipped away from there.”

Han swore softly. “Let me guess—they think I hushed him too.”

“Some people, yes,” Raisa admitted. “If I won’t file charges, Micah plans to proceed through the Wizard Council. So it looks bad. You have motive, opportunity, and a reputation for violence, and they are putting together a case.”

“I didn’t do it,” Han said, meeting her gaze. “It wasn’t me.”

“Innocence may not be enough to save you,” Raisa said. She took a breath, released it in a slow shudder. It was happening again—she was falling under the spell of Han Alister. Against all odds, she believed him.

She collected herself. “I’ll give you fair warning—if you
are
after my throne, you will have a fight on your hands.”

“I don’t want your throne,” Han said.

“Then what
do
you want?” Raisa asked.

“You.”

“Me?” Raisa raked at her hair, pounding back the questions that trickled to the surface like bubbles through syrup. “Then you have an odd way of courting a girl. I mean, there were times, over the past few months, that you could have—we might have—” Raisa swallowed, embarrassed. “
You
were the one who backed off.”

“I don’t want that,” Han growled, then actually colored. “I mean, I do want that, but not only that.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want it to be about lust. I love you. I want to marry you.”

Raisa stared at him. “Marry me? But that’s—”

“Impossible. That’s what everybody says.” Han laughed bitterly. “I can’t think of a single person who thinks it’s a good idea.”

“But. Why didn’t you…?”

“I should have told you before,” Han said. “I did, sort of—when we danced at your coronation feast. At Marisa Pines.”

Raisa had danced as Hanalea, and Han as the Demon King. His words came back to her.
Raisa. I love you. Marry me. Please. I promise I will find a way to make you happy.

“I thought…I knew you weren’t following the text, but—”

“I was just drunk enough to tell the truth. I knew your father meant for you to marry Nightwalker—and why wouldn’t you? I might be good for a strum in a back corridor, but when it comes to marriage, why would someone like you marry someone like me? I went a little crazy.”

“It’s not like that. I mean…it’s not like I’ll have a real choice.”

“Exactly,” Han said, as if he’d won the point. “You made it plain you didn’t mean to marry for love. That you intended to make a political match, for the good of the queendom, and all that. By that standard, I’m nothing more than a liability.”

“Nothing more than a…That’s not how I think of you at all!” Her cheeks heated with remorse.

“So. Me—I did have a choice. I could leave the queendom and try to find a way to forget you. I could stay, put on my street face and watch you marry Nightwalker, or Micah, or a Klemath, or a blueblood prince from some down-realms province. We could do the back corridor thing, and it’d be only a matter of time before somebody slid a blade between my ribs.” He smiled faintly. “I might even welcome that when it came.

“Or I could fight for you. I could get my game going. I could show you that I could swim in the blueblood pond. If I got myself elected High Wizard, outwitted the Bayars, and found a way to help you keep this queendom from shattering, maybe you’d take a chance on me.” He shook his head. “Easier said than done. I’m in over my head.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this at the beginning?”

“Because I didn’t want to give you a chance to say no.”

“And now the sharks are circling,” Raisa murmured.

Han laughed bitterly. “I don’t care about the throne—that’s what’s ironic. I never did. To be honest, I wish you weren’t queen, because that just gets in the way of what I want.” He looked up at the stars, tears glittering on his cheeks. “Selfish, I know.”

He reached over and closed his hands over hers, the first time he’d dared touch her. He looked into her eyes. “This may sound arrogant, and I’m sorry if it does, but you’re so alone, Raisa, and so am I. Didn’t you ever wish you could have a…a partner? A friend? Somebody you could say anything to—where you didn’t have to pick and choose words like a merchant at market? Someone who wants you for yourself?”

Raisa looked down at their clasped hands, at the ring Han had given her for her coronation. “I would love that. But partners don’t keep secrets from each other. A friend is someone you can tell the truth to.”

“I know that,” Han said. “I’m trying my best. This is new to me, too.” He took a ragged breath. “So here’s the truth—I love you. I love everything about you—the way you stick up for people even when it costs you. The way you keep trying to do the right thing even when you’re not exactly sure what the right thing is. I love how you put words together. You’re as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. You can put an enemy down on his back, or you can raise people up so they find what’s best in themselves.” He paused. “You’ve changed my life. You’ve given me the words I need to become whatever I want.”

“I’ve nearly cost you your life,” Raisa felt compelled to say. “I don’t know that—”

“I love how you talk to
lytlings
,” Han broke in. “You don’t talk down to them. You respect them, and anybody can tell you’re actually interested in what they have to say.”