WinterofThorns (24 page)

When they were all there, he looked to Duke
Peirce Chamberlain, the Council’s Judge Advocate. The man came forward with a
respectful expression upon his aged face.

“Milord Advocate,” he said. “We wish papers
to be drawn up immediately vacating all charges that were brought against Lord
Seyzon Montyne, Duke of Lavenfeld.”

He watched as the Council members turned
shocked eyes to one another and when Chamberlain would have spoken, he raised
his hand.

“Aye, we are bestowing that title upon him
and this is why. We have been engrossed in this latest problem with the Selwyn
Reivers and did not know until learning of our son’s illness what had
transpired here at Wicklow. We take responsibility and accept the blame for
what has befallen Duke Montyne. He did not deserve such treatment for he is a
true and loyal member of our Council. Therefore we want him reinstated with
full rights of Meiramanian citizenship, his property restored to him, his
commission in the Meiramanian Armed Forces restored and him promoted to the
rank of General. We will have another announcement to make regarding him in the
days to come but for now we are appointing him our Commandant of Forces.”

Shocked faces met his words but not a man
among the Council dared naysay their king’s edict. But if they thought they’d
heard the most surprising things they could, what he said next staggered them.

“And we are setting aside the Joining of
our son Prince Vindan Jameson Brell to Lady Jana Reynaud and returning her to
her rightful husband, the Duke of Lavenfeld.”

“But Your Majesty!” Chamberlain spoke up.
“The lady is carrying the prince’s—”

“The child is not our son’s,” Kellan said
and had to keep from laughing at the gasps and the bulging eyes of the men
before him. “The child was conceived before our son forced her to wife. The
child belongs to the Duke of Lavenfeld.”

Silence.

Complete, utter silence.

So silent the proverbial dropping pin would
have been like a clashing cymbal.

The men dared not dispute their king’s
words. They dared not question his assertions. They must take what he said as
the gospel truth. That was the way of the royal toady.

“You will see to our demands, Milord
Advocate?” Kellan pressed.

Chamberlain cleared his throat. “Aye, Your
Majesty. I will attend to it posthaste.”

“Then be about it. We wish to return to our
son’s bedside where…” He smiled indulgently. “He is expected to make a full
recovery thanks to an elixir provided to us by the Burgon, himself.”

A murmur ran through the men and Kellan
couldn’t tell if that signified relief or regret. He was betting on the latter.

He stood and the men bowed as he came down
the dais steps. Clenching his jaw tightly to prevent even a snicker from
escaping, he walked sedately from the room but took the stairs two at a time
with a gleeful smile on his lips.

* * * * *

Sitting quietly at the table with her
husband across from her—not his usual seat for the king had taken that one—Jana
tried not to meet Vindan’s eyes. He was well enough to come downstairs and have
his meal in the informal dining room but his complexion was wan, the flesh of
his face tight with tension, and his hand trembled from being abed so long. He
had spoken few words to his father after the shouting match the entire castle
had been privy to.

Upon leaving the Council and the upheaval
of his commands in his wake, the king had returned to his son’s bedchamber. Ascertaining
Vindan was well enough to hear the news, had proceeded to tell him what he had
set in motion.

“You can’t do that!” Vindan had shouted.

“Oh, but I can and I have,” his father said
sweetly, his lips twitching as though he was trying not to smile.

“I am legally Joined to her!”

The king had shaken his head. “No, my son,
you are not. There was no reason to set aside Duke—”

“Baron!” Vindan dared correct. “He is a
fucking baron!”

“No, he is a fucking duke,” the king stated
firmly. “We have made him so.”

“He is a traitor!”

“No, he is a patriot whose leigelord gave
him no alternative to protect his lady-wife except try to escape with her. He
did nothing illegal and we have decreed it so.” The smile finally broke
through. “Live with it, brat.”

“You can’t take her away from me. I love
her. She is carrying my child!”

“She is carrying Seyzon Montyne’s child and
well you know it,” his father corrected. “Don’t compound your perfidy by lying
to us, boy!”

So had begun the screaming, bellowing,
arguing hell that had sent Jana scurrying from the room. Now—a day later—Vindan
was silent and sullen, shooting daggers at his father and helpless looks at
her.

“I would have made your son king one day,”
he finally said as he looked away from her to push beans across his plate.

“My son has no need to be king,” she said
softly.

“Actually, he will be king one day.”

Both Jana and Vindan turned to stare at the
king.

“It follows that the son of the eldest son
will be crowned heir when his father dies. I would see the crown upon the head
of
my
eldest son were he amendable to it but unfortunately, he is not.
That saddens me for he would make an excellent, fair and compassionate king but
you’ll have to do until such time as his son takes the crown from you.”

Jana slowly turned her attention to Vindan.
The man who had been holding her captive for months now was completely devoid
of expression. He was looking at his father as though the man’s lips were
moving but no sound was issuing forth. Had she not already surmised the king
was Seyzon’s father, no doubt she would have been as confused by the king’s
words as Vindan appeared to be. She almost felt sorry for him.

“Do you understand what he is telling you,
Vindan?” she asked.

Vindan did not look at her. “Aye, he’s
telling me Seyzon Montyne is his bastard son as I have suspected he was since
we were boys.”

“Is that so?” the king asked.

“I can see you in his face!” Vindan
snapped. “I am not a fool, Papa. He might not have suspected because he’s never
seen you but I have. He is your bastard by Millicent Montyne, a woman whose
husband you cuckolded.”

The king leaned back in his chair, braced
his elbows on the arms and steepled his fingers. “You are partially right,
brat,” he said. “But Seyzon is no bastard. He is the legal, firstborn son of
Nolan Brell and we have the sworn affidavits of ten nuns and their Mother
Superior as well to prove it.”

“Affidavits can be forged,” Vindan said,
his cheek clenching and unclenching.

“We repeat. Nuns and a Mother Superior.
Seyzon is your fraternal twin born four minutes before your arrival.”

Vindan shoved his chair back and got to his
feet, fists bunched at his sides. “I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you will. Seyzon is the
rightful heir to our throne.” He smiled slowly. “Lady Millicent is your
mother.”

That seemed to anger Vindan even more and
he stormed away, his boot heels ringing on the parquet flooring.

“That went as planned,” the man at the head
of the table said as he folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate.

“Who are you?” Jana asked.

He looked up. “Beg pardon?”

“Vindan believes you to be his father but I
don’t think you are. Are you King Nolan’s twin or just a remarkable lookalike?”

“Beautiful and smart,” he said. “What gave
me away?”

“The man I first encountered when I went to
Vindan’s room had an air of cruelty and arrogance about him. His voice—though
very similar to yours—was haughty and when he spoke, his lips were stiff and
tight with contempt. When he looked at me, I felt unclean. You look at me
differently.”

“And here I thought I was carrying off the
arrogant asswipe to perfection,” he said with a grin. “I even had the royal we
down just right.”

“Where is he?” she asked. “The real King
Nolan?”

“On his way to my base camp in Selwyn.”

Jana drew in a breath. “You are the border
lord!”

“I can’t put anything over on you, can I,
gal? I am Kellan Brell, though, not Lord Robbie Bray.” He laughed. “Zonny said
you were the most observant woman he’d ever known. He is a lucky man to have
you.”

“I am the lucky one in having met him and
very grateful that he returns my love,” she said.

“That he does and in spades,” Kellan
replied. He sat back. “You are his world, milady, and I can see why.”

“He is well?” she queried.

“He is and once things are in place here, I
will take you to Blackhall where he will join us. I will then turn you over to
him and you can go wherever it pleases you. If he wants Lavenfeld returned to
him, I will see to it.” His eyes twinkled. “I’d stay close, though, until the
brattling is hatched.”

She put a hand to her belly. “That might be
best.”

He rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait
to be a great-uncle. I’m going to spoil that brat like I never got the chance to
spoil Seyzon.”

“Or Vindan?”

Kellan snorted. “That one was spoiled
enough. It ruined him.”

“You are going to have trouble with
Vindan,” she said.

“Oh, I’m counting on it!” he told her.
“I’ve got troops awaiting my call that will seize the crown from my evil twin—oh
I like saying that—and hand it over to me. Don’t you just love it when a coup
comes together so neatly?”

“And King Nolan?”

“Will be sent into exile with his sweet,
endearing wife Bertrice and all six of his ball-busting daughters and their
mewling husbands if they have them in tow. I promise you I will make a far
better king than my father and his father before him.”

“I know you will,” she agreed. She frowned.
“Does King Nolan know about Seyzon?”

“He does by now,” Kellan answered. “And I
don’t imagine he’s very happy about the situation.

* * * * *

In that, Kellan was wrong. Nolan Brell
could not have been happier to learn Seyzon Montyne was his son. The moment he
had come to on the Fiach and looked up into the eyes of the young man, he’d
thought he was Kellan’s offshoot.

“You’re better looking than your old man,”
he’d said. “You’re Millie’s boy, ain’t you?”

“I am and I don’t think you’re all that bad
looking for your age, Your Grace,” the brat had dared say.

For a long moment the king didn’t speak.
When he did he started grinning from ear to ear.

“Well I’ll be gods-damned,” he said,
staring at a younger version of himself. “I should have known your mother would
pull something like this.” His gaze roamed over Seyzon’s face. “You were the
stillborn one. My firstborn.”

“That would be me apparently.”

“Quiet like your mother as Vindan is loud
like me,” the older man observed. “I thought you were dead, son, else I would have
taken you with me too.”

“And left my mother without either of her
sons?”

“She had to give you up and she knew it.
I’d have taken you had I known you lived.”

“Aye, you would have but she, like you,
thought I was stillborn. It wasn’t until after you had left with Vindan that
they realized I wasn’t.”

“And she kept it to herself all these years
rather than have me ever come for you,” he said, nodding. “That’s my Millie.
Shrewd as the day is long and just as spiteful when she gets something in her
head.” He looked down at the manacles that ran from his hands to his ankles.
“Am I Kelly’s prisoner, then?”

“For a time. He has the might of the Burgon
behind him.”

“Does he now?” the king queried. “That
explains a lot. Does that mean he will take the throne and make you his heir or
does he have one out there in the bushes?”

“Not to my knowledge, Your Grace, and no,
he will not make me his heir. I don’t have aspirations to be king. Vindan will
do well enough.”

“With Kelly’s men pulling all his strings.
My little brother is smarter than I gave him credit for being.”

“He’s a good man,” Seyzon stated.

“Not as good as you think he is but that’s
a story for another day. Help me sit up.”

Dyson stepped out of the shadows. “Careful
of him, brat. He’s a slippery one.”

“Where can I slip to chained hand and foot,
Spencer Dyson?” the king barked. “Oh, I know who you are. I once fucked your
sister.”

“Only once?” Dyson drawled. “Three-quarters
of the men in Meiraman have had that slut at least three times over.”

“Once was enough for me,” the king said.
“That explains why she was so fucking loose.”

“Maybe you wasn’t so fucking big,” Dyson
quipped, holding up and wiggling his little finger.

The king rolled his eyes then leveled then
on Seyzon. “I saw the woman Vindan took from you. Beautiful little bird.”

Seyzon stiffened.

“And by all accounts a lady,” the king
hastened to say. “And a good woman.”

“She is, despite your son trying to make
her otherwise,” Seyzon said, clenching his jaw.

“Considering how I know Kelly feels about
some of the ancient laws and rights of the upper class, I imagine he’ll annul
Vin’s Joining and reinstate yours.”

“He has said as much,” Seyzon agreed.

The king shrugged and his manacles clanked.
“Some laws need to be done away with but he’d best be careful with tossing out
the rights of the lords and ladies. He might find himself on the receiving end
of a revolution.”

“Such as the one that gives a nobleman the
right to deflower a woman on her Joining night?”

“No one will miss that law save the perverts
who think it their due.”

“Perverts such as your son?”

“Mistake that,” the king admitted. “I think
what he did was more aimed at putting you in your place rather than the girl or
Vindan’s desire to have her.”

“I think it was all three,” Seyzon stated.

“From what my spies tell me, he loves the
girl as much as you do. I have some knowledge of how that feels as I’m sure
Kelly’s told you.”