Twelve

They arrived at the palace as the sun was sinking over the horizon, gilding the stone walls with golden light.

“It’s a good thing the queen has already left, else our little excursion would have surely gotten back to her.” Rainart mused as they walked back from the stables where they had left their horses in the hands of the grooms.

“You’re right,” Devyn said absently, “I’m sorry for dragging you out there.”

Rainart took hold of her wrist and pulled her to a stop. He laced his fingers in hers and stepped up, so they stood only inches apart, “You don’t have to hide things from me Devyn. I meant it when I said I want to help you.”

Devyn smiled and leaned up to place a quick kiss on the duke’s lips, surprising him. “I know you meant it. Thank you.”

Rainart returned her smile and held her against him, tightly enough that she could feel his heart beating in his chest. He leaned down and kissed her lavishly, taking his time with it. When his tongue brushed her lips, she parted them to allow him to explore further and he groaned as he slipped inside her mouth. He tasted like peppermint and ginger and Devyn’s soft flesh tingled in the wake of his tongue.

Heat built inside Devyn and she let it spur her on, deepening the kiss even further. She wound her hands around Rainart’s neck and buried her fingers in his hair. She moaned into his mouth, desire radiating through her. He gripped her harder in response and she could feel that he wanted her just as badly.

Her breath hitched and she broke the kiss, pulling away from the duke as far as his tight hold on her would allow.

“Rainart.”

Rainart looked at her, breathing heavily. His eyes were fogged with lust, “I want you, Devyn. Just being near you sets my blood on fire. You are the most intoxicating woman I’ve ever met.”

The heat Devyn felt within her spread across her cheeks and she looked away, “You’re too much.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, loosening his grasp on her to tilt her face back to his, “I think…I think I’m falling in love with you Devyn. You’re the last thought on my mind at night before I fall asleep, and the first thing I think about when I wake in the morning. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for you.”

Devyn was at a loss for words. She had not expected that Rainart’s feelings were so strong, or that he would declare them to her so brazenly. Her heart thudded in her chest and she swallowed, still able to taste him on her tongue.

“You don’t have to respond in kind,” Rainart said with a small smile, “I know what I’ve said is a lot to take in.”

Devyn smiled back, “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just don’t know how to articulate what I’m feeling right now.”

The duke stroked her cheek, “That’s enough for now, then. Shall we continue to the palace?”

Devyn nodded and took the arm that Rainart extended toward her. She allowed him to escort her back to the door to her suite and kissed him again before they parted ways. She pretended not to notice the look of disappointment on his face when she didn’t invite him inside.

As the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a long sigh. As much as she liked him, Devyn couldn’t help but feel like this new revelation from Rainart would only serve to complicate matters. It didn’t help that she felt as if she would catch fire every time he touched her skin. She rather enjoyed the sensation, and it was becoming more and more difficult to stop him once he got his hands on her.

She wanted him. Badly. But she didn’t feel the same as he did. She wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t even sure if she would know if she were. All she knew of romantic love was the things she had read in novels, and she didn’t feel like the heroines in the books she had once adored. The thought of Rainart didn’t make her heart feel light, nor did she ache to be with him at all hours of the day and night. She liked kissing him. The way he made her feel when she was wrapped in his arms was thrilling, but that was all. Was that love?

Devyn shook herself out of her thoughts and pushed off the door that she’d been leaning on. She could weigh her feelings about the duke later. She had far more important things to think about. She pulled off the leather bag she’d been carrying from her cottage home and set it on the low table in the sitting room. Opening it, she grabbed the collection of papers her mother had left for her and the diary she’d found and took them to her desk in the study.

She stared at the stack of parchment in front of her for what felt like an age. Finally, she reached for the string that was binding the papers. Her hand shook slightly as she tugged at the bow and she couldn’t help but picture Aristea’s delicate fingers tying it up, readying it for a day she knew would come long after she was gone.

The string fell away, and Devyn lifted the top sheet off the stack, carefully setting it aside, to reveal the words of a ghost. Each page—there were dozens—was filled from edge to edge with Aristea’s neat script. Devyn gaped at how much information was laid before her. It would take hours, if not days, to get through everything.

She glanced out the window. It was almost fully dark outside. She absently lit a candle while debating if she should start reading right away or if it was better to wait. The next day would be a long one filled with preparations for the closing ceremony of the Solstice Festival and she would be expected to be present in her grandmother’s absence.

She placed a hand on the stack of parchment, willing the words inked on the pages to speak to her. She could almost feel her mother within them, urging her to listen to what she had wanted to say for so long. Getting started right away wouldn’t hurt as long as she didn’t stay up too late. Devyn settled herself into her chair and began reading.

The first rays of the summer sun broke over the horizon, streaking into the study and startling Devyn awake. She had fallen asleep at her desk sometime in the night. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and groaned.

The study door swung open and Katrin poked her head inside, “Ah, there you are Your Highness. I wondered if you had come back at all last night.”

Devyn looked at her maid skeptically, “Where else would I have gone?”

“To Lord Dietrich’s rooms, I would imagine,” she replied with a sly smile, “After the little display on the grounds after you’d been away all day, most of the palace is probably thinking the same thing.”

Devyn flushed a dark crimson from her neck to the tips of her ears, “Excuse me?”

“Surely you didn’t think no one saw you two kissing? You were on the main path between the stables and the palace at sunset. The busiest time of the evening. I’m not sure there are many who didn’t see.” Katrin said, coming in holding a tray of eggs and toast and a cup of heavily scented tea.

“I–I didn’t think about anyone seeing us.” Devyn stuttered.

Katrin placed the tray before the princess, careful to avoid the scattered pieces of parchment, “Clearly.”

“Katrin!”

The maid grinned, “Don’t worry, I’m sure the talk will subside before the queen returns.”

Devyn scrubbed at her face and slumped in her chair. She certainly hoped the gossip would die down before her grandmother got back from her trip. The last thing she needed was for Valda to get wind of her only granddaughter locked in a passionate embrace with her vassal for all to see not even two days after she had cautioned Devyn against that sort of thing.

“I’m an idiot,” she said through her hands.

“You’re a young woman who has a very handsome nobleman practically throwing himself at you. I’d be surprised if you didn’t engage in a little heavy petting.” Katrin countered.

Devyn wanted to slide off her seat and hide under her desk, “I’ll never live this down with you, will I?”

“Probably not.”

Devyn huffed and grabbed a piece of toast. She tore off a bite and got up, heading for the bathing room.

Katrin had hot water brought in and Devyn washed herself, scrubbing her skin until it gleamed. She worked her almond soap through her hair and rinsed it thoroughly before stepping out of the tub and wrapping a towel around herself. She put on a blue knee length dress and sat at her vanity where Katrin began combing through her hair.

“So, what had you working so late last night?” Katrin asked.

Devyn hesitated. She usually told Katrin everything that was on her mind, but this felt different. Everything about what she was doing was a balancing game but talking about her mother’s letters out loud felt almost like a betrayal.

“I was just doing some reading and must have fallen asleep,” she said at last, watching Katrin through the mirror and catching a slight frown float across her refined features.

“That’s a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one. Her Majesty’s tutelage must be really paying off.” the maid said quietly.

Devyn spun in her seat to look at Katrin, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, don’t pay any attention to me,” Katrin replied.

The two locked eyes, neither willing to concede to the other. After a few moments, Devyn gave up. She sighed and stood, taking hold of Katrin by her shoulders, “You know you can tell me things, even if I might not like hearing it, right?” Katrin only raised a brow in response.

Devyn let her go and laughed mirthlessly, “Point taken. You know me too well, Kat. I’ll talk about it soon, I promise. I’m just not ready to right now.”

Katrin gave a smile, “All right then. At least we’re on the same page.”

Devyn left her suite soon afterward, once Katrin had braided back her hair and coiled it around her head like a crown. The next several hours were spent in one meeting room or another, talking with various guardsmen, festival organizers, and sages, making sure that everything was in place for the next day. By the time it was time for dinner, she was exhausted.

She asked for her meal to be brought to her suite and made her retreat. On the way back, she began thinking about the things she had read the night before. The Wolf hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that Aristea was a Seer. She confirmed that herself within the pages she had entrusted to the assassin. She had also written about things that she had never been willing to discuss with Devyn before.

She explained that her life had not been the idyllic one most people in the kingdom thought it had been. Her parents had wanted to use her abilities to their advantage from the moment they had manifested. It was of no consequence to them that each vision caused their only child immense pain, they only saw how they could use her ability to gain more power.

Her only advocate was Axel Hofmann, a courtier from a territory on the western edge of Malvan. Although he was only a Baron, he didn’t fear speaking out against the Monarchs’ treatment of their daughter and he did so publicly on many occasions. Before long, Aristea had fallen in love with the man, and he asked for her hand in marriage.

Falko, Aristea’s father, and Valda were furious. They forbade the marriage and demanded that Axel return home at once. Instead of obeying, Axel whisked Aristea away one night and the two eloped, staying hidden for months. They only returned the following winter, after Aristea had become pregnant.

Faced with the prospect of their heir bearing an illegitimate child, the Queen and Grand Duke reluctantly blessed the union and Axel took on the title of Duke. Tensions were high throughout Aristea’s pregnancy, but a fragile peace was kept for the sake of the child in her womb.

That child—Devyn—was born the following fall, as the leaves on the trees had just started to turn. The kingdom celebrated her arrival for days, unaware just how somber the mood in the palace was. Aristea had suffered greatly; at the moment of Devyn’s birth, she experienced a powerful vision. This vision was unlike any other Aristea had ever had. Instead of the usual flashes of information that would run through her mind, she witnessed a lifetime in the blink of an eye. Her lifetime—or what was left of it.

For months, she told no one the truth about what she had seen, not even Axel. She secretly dug into the darker parts of her parents’ rule, and what she found only convinced her of her fate. Aristea shrank into herself, becoming more guarded and suspicious until no one was permitted to enter her wing of the palace without express written consent. Finally, when Axel had had enough, he confronted his wife, and she finally told him what she’d seen that day. She told him how the vision tortured her, playing in her thoughts over and over again. How the pain it had caused even so many weeks later was indescribable. She cried, letting the weight of the knowledge fall from her shoulders, and Axel cried with her.

He decided that they would run, the three of them. They would flee Malvan and carve out a life for themselves somewhere else where Valda couldn’t find them. He got to work, planning their escape and where they would go once they got away. He had decided to head south and cross into the newly conquered Kingdom of Gashein, where they could then leave for the southern continent. His hope was that Valda and Falko would assume they’d never try to travel through Gashein because of the danger doing so would pose. He worked out all the details, assuring Aristea that she only needed to make sure that she and Devyn were ready to leave at any time.

Devyn’s first birthday came, and a grand party was thrown in her honor. Aristea and Axel played the parts they were expected to play that day and brought their daughter out for a rare public appearance. The party guests fawned over her and she lapped up the attention, giggling and babbling away. At the end of the party, the Royal Family was scheduled to take a carriage ride through the castle town and greet the citizens. As the time neared to board the carriage, Devyn became inconsolable, screeching and clawing at anyone who tried to hold her. Aristea insisted that the baby was just tired, and decided to postpone the ride, taking Devyn back to their rooms.

Devyn refused to calm down no matter what her parents tried. She wouldn’t nurse, she didn’t want to be rocked, and she spat out her pacifier. There were no signs that she was sick or hurt. Not even the small magics that Aristea performed that the girl usually loved to watch could soothe her. After another hour of endless hysterics, she abruptly stopped. No more screams, no more tears, nothing. She nestled into Axel’s embrace and drifted off to sleep. The couple was dumbfounded—and then someone pounded on the door to the suite, breaking Aristea’s strict rules. When the door was answered, a guard informed them that the Grand Duke had taken the carriage ride on his own and had been attacked. Falko was dead.

The next weeks were a blur. A grand state funeral was held, the various events taking up the better part of a fortnight. No one had taken credit for the assassination so Valda sent troops into every corner of the kingdom to search for information on who might be responsible. Every time they thought they had a lead, it turned out to be false.

On the final day of the funeral, a grand procession was held to escort Grand Duke Falko to his resting place. Valda had insisted that Aristea, Axel, and Devyn ride in her carriage during the march as it was the most heavily protected. They agreed, and the grieving family sat in heavy silence as they rode toward the cemetery. Just as they arrived, Devyn began to wail once more.

Screaming erupted from the crowd of onlookers, and then guards were heard shouting at something outside. The driver hastily maneuvered the bulky carriage toward a gap in the crowd, attempting to escape with the Royal Family. Valda and Aristea huddled over a screaming Devyn, and Axel knelt before the carriage door, sword drawn and poised to strike should anyone try to enter.

The driver urged the pair of horses into a gallop, but they didn’t get the chance to obey before something leaped into the street, blocking the way. A large wolf, charcoal grey in color, stood before the carriage with its teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. On its leg was a roll of parchment. The animal ripped the roll from the string binding it to its leg and spat it on the ground. It stared at the carriage a moment longer before leaping over the heads of the guards heading for it with spears and swords. It ran off at an impressive speed, ensuring no one would be able to keep pace with it.

A guard scooped up the parchment and pulled himself up onto the carriage with the driver who cracked the reins, sending the horses speeding for the palace. Devyn quieted again, just as suddenly as she had before, and Aristea stared at her tiny daughter, realizing all at once what could have caused her hysterics.

When they got back to the palace, Valda commanded Aristea to her side to help her deal with the situation so Axel took Devyn and spirited her away to their rooms. The guard who’d picked up the parchment came forward and handed it to the queen. Aristea watched her mother blanch as she read the contents before handing it over for her to read for herself.

Written in an ink so red it could have been mistaken for blood, the parchment held the manifesto of Falko’s assassin, the Wolf of Malvan.

Devyn’s feet carried her back to her suite without her even realizing it. She went straight to her study and collapsed into her desk chair. Her mostly uneaten breakfast had been cleared away, and her dinner tray was sitting on the corner of the desk. She could smell the aroma of roast lamb coming from beneath the heavy silver cloche that covered it and her mouth watered.

Dinner would have to wait. She was too intent on reading the rest of what her mother had left for her. She hoped that Aristea had included more about Emmerich’s manifesto; Devyn was intensely curious about the reasoning behind his crimes. She plucked a goblet full of wine from the dinner tray, sipping at the dark liquid as she picked up where she’d left off the night before.

The writings did not include anything more about the manifesto, much to Devyn’s disappointment. After the incident with the Wolf, Valda became even more willing to squash her enemies by any means necessary. She wanted power and was willing to lie, kill, and steal to get it. She began sending campaigns into smaller territories bordering Malvan, annexing them into the kingdom and conscripting the able-bodied into her army.

The kingdom of Gashein, which had been conquered under Falko’s leadership, was turned into a vassal state, and heavily taxed to fund the war effort. Its ruling family was rounded up and executed, and a puppet king was installed on the throne.

Axel had finished his preparations for their escape and informed Aristea late one night as she was rocking Devyn to sleep that it was time to go. At dawn the next day they would leave the palace under the pretense of going to visit his home territory. As he spoke Devyn woke out of her drowsy, half-asleep state and began screaming.

After trying to nurse her, change her, and checking her body for some phantom injury, Aristea had an idea. She sat the girl up and promised that they wouldn’t leave the palace the next day. The promise immediately soothed her, and Devyn nestled herself back into place in her mother’s arms.

The parents stared at their child; all at once her outbursts made sense to them. Her power was beginning to manifest within her. Even at just a year old, she had a supernatural sense of danger and could only scream and cry to communicate that.

Aristea decided to use her Sight on her daughter to confirm the theory. She gave the girl to Axel and placed her hands on either side of her little face. Closing her eyes, she willed her power to flow through her. Flashes of the future materialized in her mind’s eye; the outcome of trying to escape would be disaster. If they fled, Valda would catch them. Axel and Devyn would die in the chase, leaving Aristea alone at the mercy of her mother’s wrath.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she let go of Devyn. Suddenly, another vision overtook her, one showing that Axel would meet his end by the queen’s hand if he remained at the palace. Aristea began to tremble with a mix of grief and rage. Her husband had to leave alone if he was to live.

Aristea and Axel sat up that night trying to figure out what to do. By the time the sun rose, they had come to a decision. Or rather, Aristea had finally put her foot down and made the hardest call she’d ever had to make. She would send Axel away and let everyone believe he had left her, and she would keep Devyn away from the queen for as long as possible. Axel, who could barely contain his anger, stormed out to cool off. He felt sure that there had to be another way, but Aristea’s mind was made up.

When Axel returned, Aristea had already bound Devyn’s powers. She knew that if Valda found out that the child’s abilities were already manifesting at such a young age, she’d become her next target. She would exploit her powers if she could, and once the girl had outlived her usefulness, she would cast her aside.

The couple spent that night wrapped in each other’s arms while Devyn slept in her bassinet beside them. They knew it was the last night they would spend together as a family, and they tried to ignore the sense of doom that hung in the air like a thick fog. In the morning, Aristea would perform the spell on Axel, and he would be knocked out and whisked away from the palace. When he woke, he would have no knowledge of his family or his previous life and would have to make a new one for himself. He would be supplied with plenty of gold and necessities to make things easier, but where he ended up would be a mystery.

Shortly after Axel’s departure, Aristea decided to move to the forest on the edge of the palace grounds. She hoped that the distance would discourage her mother from continuing to abuse her Sight and prevent anyone from suspecting that Devyn had already developed magical abilities. The cottage was built and by the time Devyn turned two, they began their secluded life in the woods.

Devyn gulped the last mouthfuls of her wine. She skimmed the remaining pages until she got to a page written in a different hand. It was a letter her father had written to her mother long ago. Devyn smoothed the aged paper out on the desktop, staring at the words, hardly able to comprehend what she was reading.

October 30

My Love,

I want you to know that I bear no ill will toward you for what you are going to do. I understand why it must be done, but I wish that it wasn’t so. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. It breaks my heart that matters have come to this…That we will be parted, that I will not get to watch our daughter grow, that you have resigned yourself to the fate you saw the day Devyn was born. If I could, I would trade my life for yours a thousand times over. I would forfeit my soul to protect you. You two are my entire world and if I am honest, it terrifies me to face the prospect of a life without you. But I will do as I must, for Devyn’s sake. Just as you are doing my darling. My brave, beautiful, selfless love. Know that even after you cast the spell, I will love you. Even after we have both left this world, I will love you. We will find each other in the next life, and the one after that. You are my heart, Aristea. I am yours, forever.

All My Love,

Axel

Devyn had to remember to breathe. Her father was out there somewhere, living a different life, unaware of the family he had left behind. Aristea had known about everything. She’d sealed away Devyn’s magic, her birthright, and let her believe she was powerless. Even the damn Wolf knew more about her past than she did.

Anger churned in her gut, and she shot to her feet, pacing the floor. So much had been kept from her. She had been ignorant for so long and now that she knew, what was she supposed to do? Devyn had never felt more trapped than in that moment. She felt like a tidal wave had hit her and she had been left to drown.

Everything she had thought she’d known had been a lie. And to top it off, Devyn had blindly given her loyalty to her grandmother, an apparent tyrant who was obsessed with amassing power at any cost. Even if that cost was her own family. She leaned over her desk and tried to suck more air into her lungs, but it was like they were being squeezed in a vice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she was too angry to allow them to fall.

Devyn balled her hands into fists, squeezing hard enough to feel her nails dig into the skin of her palms. Suddenly, a flash of lightning cracked across the sky over the palace, illuminating the room with a bluish glow. Thunder followed, rattling the windows and making Devyn turn to look outside. Rain spilled from heavy black clouds that were concentrated over the palace and the castle town. The sight shocked Devyn from her panic and she fell back into her desk chair, holding her head in her hands. She could smell the scent of ozone that filled the air outside. The storm had rolled in out of nowhere. She absently hoped that it didn’t affect the closing ceremony for the festival.

Rubbing her temples, she sat up straight and squared her shoulders. Having a meltdown would do her no good. What she needed to do was to figure out what to do next. She realized that it didn’t matter if Aristea had known about her death all along, or that she’d done next to nothing to prevent it. She still wanted justice for her mother. She would not let anyone get away with her murder, not even her grandmother.

Slowly, she piled the parchment back into a neat stack and tied the string back in place. She opened the top drawer of her desk and dropped the stack inside, followed by her mother’s journal. Then she shut the drawer, locked it with a little key, and slipped the key into a small jewelry box that sat on the desk.

Devyn stretched in her chair, reaching her arms upward and arching her back. She realized that she felt completely exhausted. Pulling the dinner tray towards her, she removed the cloche and quickly ate, not bothering to taste the now cold lamb as she wolfed it down. She decided that whatever the next step was, it could wait until tomorrow.