'If you don't mean to kill me, why did you come here?'
'I didn't have any choice. Lord Dunstany claimed me for his slave, then Palatyne wanted to give me to you.' She shrugged. 'So here I am, one kingsdaughter slave to another.'
They stared at each other across the steaming rose-scented water and the immensity of it struck Piro. Now that Isolt knew who she was, one word from the kingsdaughter and she would be dead. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask for reassurance but, because she did not trust Isolt, she did not want to show any weakness.
'I thought you were different, but I didn't realise how different,' Isolt whispered. She skirted the tub, halting an arm's length from Piro, her gaze on the foenix which nestled in Piro's arms. Isolt lifted one tentative hand and looked at Piro. 'May I?'
'Move slowly. He's shy of people he doesn't know.'
Isolt stroked the bird's back, then smiled. 'You were right. He's so soft, his feathers feel like fur.'
'He doesn't like being in a cage either.'
'I can understand that.' Isolt's voice cracked and when she looked up into Piro's face, tear tracks marred the white powder on her cheeks. 'Palatyne gets what he wants, and he wants the throne of Merofynia.'
'That's not all he wants. He plans to be emperor of the known world,' Piro revealed.
A bitter laugh escaped Isolt. 'And he may just do it!'
Piro didn't think so, not if Byren had anything to say, but she kept her tongue between her teeth. She wasn't about to tell the daughter of the Merofynian king that the rightful heir to Rolencia still lived.
'What will you do?' Piro asked. 'You can't trust Palatyne. He means to kill King Merofyn. He killed my father under a flag of truce.'
Isolt pulled back. 'Of course you would say that.' Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'It is well known the Rolencian royal family can't be trusted. They are tainted with a streak of aberrant Affinity. Everyone knows King Byren the Fourth could talk to animals, which makes him little better than an Affinity beast himself!'
Piro's mouth dropped open. Was her strong Affinity the product of mixing her mother's blood with her grandfather's? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, but then Isolt didn't know Queen Myrella had been cursed with Affinity.
Isolt stepped away from Piro. 'Return the foenix to his cage. You are dismissed for tonight.'
'But… what will you do about Palatyne? He can't be trusted.'
'So you say, yet you are the enemy. We were warned that your army was massing. That's why Palatyne attacked.'
'Not true!' Piro protested. 'At least, no more than usual to keep the warlords in line. We have honoured the treaty with Merofynia these past thirty years. It was Palatyne who broke it, just as he murdered my father under a flag of truce!'
From Isolt's expression, it was clear she did not believe Piro. 'Palatyne is a crude barbarian who has conquered Rolencia in my father's name. He looks too high if he thinks to marry into royalty. I asked for time. I mean to go to Father and plead my case. He cannot force me to marry Palatyne.' Isolt gave an unsteady laugh. 'After all, I am a kingsdaughter!'
Piro eyed Isolt uneasily. The kingsdaughter had rallied after trying to throw herself off the balcony, but what were her options really?
While Isolt bathed, Piro made a nest for the foenix in a linen basket and sat it beside the daybed. She lay down but could not sleep. Instead, she fumed silently. Aberrant Affinity, indeed. King Rolen's army massing to attack Merofynia. Rubbish!
What other slander had King Merofyn been spreading about her family to justify his own treachery?
When Isolt returned to the main chamber, she knelt beside Piro's daybed to stroke the foenix and Piro pretended to be asleep. With a sigh, Isolt returned to her own bedchamber, putting out the light.
Piro rolled over, thumping the duck-down pillow. Well, if Isolt did not believe Palatyne was equally treacherous, there was nothing Piro could do. She had troubles enough of her own. One word as to her true identity and she would be executed. Fear sat like a coiled snake in the pit of her belly, waiting to strike.
She would never sleep.
Freezing Sylion take Palatyne!
Byren tried not to watch Florin's bottom as she climbed the trail ahead of him. Her shoulders were broad and her legs long, with a stride that almost matched his. But her narrow waist, the curve of her behind and the sway of her hips proclaimed her femininity. And wouldn't she hate it if he told her so?
Ostensibly, he'd suggested they scout the trail to the secret pass over the mountain, in case they had to make a hasty retreat. This was true as far as it went, but he also wanted to make things right between them.
Since Waterford Florin had been avoiding him, quite an achievement in a camp that consisted of four caves covering a space not much bigger than a ploughed field. When she did speak to him, it was all 'Yes, my king, no, my king.'
It was driving him crazy.
She came to a stop on a patch of snow barely big enough for the two of them to stand side by side, in the gap between two rocks large as houses. He opted to stand with his back to one of the rocks.
Dusk had fallen while they climbed and now only starlight illuminated the night.
'These.' Florin reached past him to pat the rock by his shoulder. 'I recognise these, my king. I haven't forgotten the trail to the secret pass.'
'Just like you don't forget to hold a grudge?'
She blinked and frowned at him. In daylight he suspected he would have seen colour in her winter-pale cheeks.
'Have I offended you, my king?'
'No. I've offended you.'
The silence stretched. He'd been wrong about Winterfall. The noble youth had not had the strength of character to admit his fault. For some reason, Byren did not want to be wrong about Florin.
His voice dropped. 'I called you a mountain girl. Was that the last straw?'
She looked away, jaw clenched. 'No. You were right. If I want to be treated like one of your honour guard, I have to accept orders like they do.'
He hadn't actually said that, but he wasn't surprised that she'd made the leap.
'But you're not one of them. They're a bunch of untried youths, eager to win honour on the battlefield. You're more like Orrade. You see through things.' He hesitated as she cast him a swift, inscrutable look. Should he explain that there was nothing between him and Orrade? Nothing on his side, at least. He was on the verge of telling her, but he could not bring himself to reveal his best friend's vulnerability.
In that moment, he saw he had been right about Florin. She was like Orrade. She was clever and pragmatic, but she was also vulnerable. It was her pride, her insistence on being as good as any man that left her open to ridicule.
'You don't have to prove anything to any one, Florrie.'
'Don't call me that,' she snapped.
A grin tugged at his lips. 'Mountain-girl?'
Her eyes widened as she stared at him like she was trying to work something out.
His heart picked up a notch and he felt his body tighten unexpectedly. Hold on. He did not fancy boyish women who could just about look him in the eye, no more than he fancied Orrade.
He blew his breath out, at the same time as Florin blew hers out in a huff of annoyance.
'Mountain-girl it is then.' She thrust past him, heading back the way they'd come. 'I'll answer to that, my king.' The last was thrown over her shoulder, a challenge if he ever heard one.
Damn, he did find her fascinating. Now that was inconvenient. Luckily, Florin didn't have a clue.
Chapter Ten
Possibly because she was thinking about him, Piro found herself dreaming of him. Palatyne and the Utlander crept through the palace courtyards, keeping to the shadows cast by the brilliant stars. Palatyne was in such a hurry, the short Power-worker had to take running steps to keep up.