Текст книги "The poison daughter"

Автор книги: Sheila Masterson

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 48 страниц)

20HENRY

Three Divine-damn days. That’s how long Harlow has been hiding in her room. That’s how long I’ve been locked out of my own washroom. That’s how long she’s hogged Kyrin.

It’s childish to be jealous that my wolf is so loyal to her. I want him protecting her around the fort since she is as reckless as she is curious. But Ky has never warmed to anyone except me. He’s even surly toward Bryce and Carter. Yet he won’t leave Harlow’s side.

It makes me even more curious what she’s doing in there, because despite what her bodyguard has said repeatedly, I’m not buying that she’s cloistered herself to pray to the Divine.

The cold morning air stings my cheeks as I run through the hunt grounds behind the estate. The staccato beat of Carter and Bryce’s familiar gaits behind me is soothing, as is their bickering. But every time I settle into a rhythm, my mind wanders back to Harlow, her eyes fever-bright as she rushed out of the dinner.

I know she wasn’t drunk. I need to know what scared her off.

A haunting mist threads around the trees and over the trail ahead of us. It’s not particularly nice weather for a run—cold enough to burn the lungs, damp enough to make everything chafe. But ever since we were forced to spend the first two years after the wall fell mostly underground, I’m too happy for the freedom of it to complain.

I’ve run this path so many times, the steep mountain face to my right, the forest and fort to my left. The coating of dry pine needles on the trail keeps the ground from being too muddy and fills the air with their earthy scent. It smells like home.

The new moon and our wedding are tomorrow, and Harlow has to be ready. I’m torn between dread and excitement. She has managed herself well so far, but she’ll be out of her element tomorrow. She’ll need me to guide her through our customs, and that puts her at a disadvantage. It forces her to be the one thing she absolutely refuses to be with me—vulnerable. I know I can get under her skin, and I’m more determined than ever.

“I can tell you need a good tumble by how fast you’re running,” Bryce shouts from a few yards behind me. “You only have this much energy when you’re miserable.”

I push the pace faster, charging the last half-mile to the mountain escape tunnel. Finally, I stand tall and lift my arms, sucking in air as I check the foliage covering the tunnel opening.

The branches and vine net that hide the door are in place. Anyone else would miss the secret door, but we are trained to know these escape routes in the dark, by touch alone. These tunnels saved us ten years ago. They still save us.

I’m not particularly devout. Holly’s death and my own brushes with the veil made certain of that. But three of the youngest children in our community being blessed by the Divine of Fortune with the ability to make plants grow in the glow of sunstones allowed us to create a full farming system inside the mountain tunnels. That, combined with our miraculous survival, inspired devotion in many people in our community. They think if we ask, the Divine will provide.

I’m not so sure. If the Divine are so eager to be at our beck and call, where were they the night the fort fell?

A hand claps down on my shoulder. I spin, slapping it away.

Carter immediately lifts his hands, readying for a fight. “Oh, is that how it is today?”

I hesitate. It would feel good to hit something—someone—just to have control over something right now, but I need to keep my head.

I step back and run a hand through my sweaty hair. “She won’t come out of her fucking room. I’ve been locked out of my own washroom for days.”

“Is this because Ky likes her better?” Bryce asks from where he leans against a tree, stretching his calves.

“Ky is just antagonizing me,” I say.

The two of them look at each other, a silent conversation passing in that glance.

“A dove came from Lunameade this morning.” Carter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny scroll.

“And you didn’t think to say something earlier?” I ask.

Carter chuckles. “You took off running before we even said hello. When would I have had time to?”

I unroll the note addressed to Harlow and read.

Able misses you. He hopes you’ll be wed and back in time for his birthday. – Mama

“Seems innocuous enough,” I say, tucking the note in my pocket.

Carter shrugs a shoulder. “It does, unless you know that Able’s birthday was three moon cycles ago.”

“You think it’s a code?”

Bryce shoves at Carter’s shoulder. “We think they’d be stupid not to have a safe way to communicate with her, and there seems to be some urgency for them to get her back. The real question is why.”

I think back to the dinner we had with her family. She didn’t so much as glance at her oldest brother. The heir of the Carrenwell family is a pompous ass from what I could tell, laughing about drinking wine with the mayor, ignoring his sullen wife sulking into her own glass beside him.

It was a far cry from how Harlow acted around Kellan.

“I’ll ask her,” I say, brushing the sweaty hair back from my forehead. “I’ll see how she reacts. I just have to get her out of her⁠—”

Carter holds up a hand and turns slowly toward the forest behind us. The faint sound of footsteps echoes from somewhere down the foggy trail in front of us.

A moment later, Stefan emerges from the mist with his friends, Zach and Darren, at his back.

When Stefan sees me, he slows for a second before charging at me. He stops just a foot away.

“You are a fucking traitor to your people,” Stefan barks. “You slit Seth’s throat for touching a Carrenwell.”

I cross my arms and appraise him with boredom. “Seth knew better than to touch my betrothed. He tried to use his magic on her.”

Bryce approaches from my left and Carter steps into position on my right. They’re ready for a fight. Much as I’d like to throw down with Stefan, the Laurence family would just use any lack of control as a sign that I don’t have what it takes to be heir. Worse, Stefan’s friends also come from families who have a lot of influence in the fort, and while both are currently loyal to my parents, there’s no guarantee that I’ll inherit that loyalty.

Stefan laughs bitterly. “I can’t believe it. One good fuck from that city slut and you’re already killing your own people for her.”

Bryce shifts beside me, ever the hothead fixing for a fight.

I knew our people would doubt this plan and that Stefan and his family would use it as a way to cast doubt on us. It’s a calculated risk, but I’d hoped that I’d at least get to marry her before the mutiny started.

“Let it go, Stefan. We’ve told you that we have a plan,” I say. “I know when you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail. But we don’t need to risk more bloodshed when diplomacy could get us everything we want.”

He cracks his knuckles. “I’ve been patient for ten years, Havenwood. I’ve followed your family’s rules and I’ve waited for this score to be settled, but instead, you’re bringing one of them into the fold.”

His anger is palpable, a sort of prickle in the air. I wish I didn’t understand it. It’s not as if I don’t feel the urgency. I hate that it’s taken this long. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t feel the rapid slip of time—the ever-present guilt that I haven’t avenged my sister. This is just another reminder that I’m running out of time to prove to our people that we can get them the vengeance they need. They have earned peace, but none of them will have it until Harrick Carrenwell is dealt with.

I’d love to go at the Carrenwells directly, but that’s the fastest way to get us all killed.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone—who lost yourself that day, Stefan.” I hold fast to the last fraying edges of calm. “We have a larger strategy. I wouldn’t expect you to understand something that can be solved without fists.”

“Bet I could solve your new Carrenwell with fists,” he says over his shoulder to his two minions.

Zach and Darren chuckle in approval, and my blood boils. It’s taken years to master my temper—to not rise to every occasion. Showing weakness now would destroy the goodwill I’ve tried so hard to build after years of holding back. The only thing separating me and Stefan now is my ability to be temperate and think about the larger picture.

I have half a mind to let him try. I can’t decide if it would be more satisfying to break his nose myself or to see the stunned look on his face when Harlow does it.

They all think what I thought before meeting her—that she’s a coddled city girl. But she’s not soft and trusting. She’s vicious and conniving—a viper waiting for her moment to strike.

Stefan’s grin slips into a frown. He’s not satisfied that he hasn’t baited me into a fight. I’ve had years of holding my tongue when I’d like to put someone in their place. Years of listening to half the fort talk about how they could rule better than my family without ever understanding the burden of making decisions that affect thousands of people. Years of judgment about the methods my mother turned to in order to save us.

They don’t like to think about who would have stood on that wall every night while we rebuilt if she hadn’t made those hard choices—if she hadn’t pushed herself to the very limits of what was possible with her magic. There are people here who have an aversion to Asher’s gifts—but I don’t know anyone who returned who doesn’t feel grateful to be here—except Stefan, I suppose.

He uncrosses his arms, hands flexing again. “And if my fists don’t work, I could show her an even better lesson with my cock. I heard she made an appearance at hunt night. Have her wander out there again and I’ll race you, Havenwood. I could break her far better than you ever could.”

My heart thunders, my hands itching to pummel his face to a bloody pulp.

I need to blow off some steam before I do something stupid. Not fucking Miriam on hunt night really messed me up. I am all pent-up energy, and in the absence of a good fuck, I’m aching for a good fight.

Carter’s hand alights on my shoulder. “How hot, Hen?”

The words are like being dunked in cold water. Holly used to say that all the time when my temper was getting the best of me—a taunt from the level-headed big sister to her raging younger brother. She was a better fighter—smaller, but quick and clever. She’d have me losing my mind with frustration in mere minutes.

I can picture her watching me train with someone else and yelling it from the edge of the ring. “How hot, Hen?”

Carter is the only one who says it, because even though Bryce knows it too, he’s more prone to instigating a fight than stopping one.

“I’m sure if you were going to issue a real challenge to me, you would go through the formal channels to do it instead of finding me on my morning run,” I say.

It’s almost impossible to walk away from Stefan. The only consolation is the simmering rage in his eyes when I remind him that he’s afraid of me. If he issued a formal challenge, he would have to beat me in a fight, and the Laurence family would take over as ruling family of Mountain Haven. The only reason Stefan hasn’t done it yet is because he doesn’t think he can. I’m hoping it stays that way.

His ego might tempt him to find out, but I already know. As much as I’d like to put him in his place, there are people I would alienate by killing him.

I step around Stefan and continue down the path at a slow walk until I hear Carter and Bryce behind me. We walk a few more minutes until we’re certain that Stefan isn’t following us. The trees become more sparse, opening to the ruins of my mother’s favorite shrine. Stones lie where they fell the night of the invasion, but the statue of Asher has been righted as if nothing is amiss. The only sign of the battle is the dried blood staining the Divine’s white marble feet a dark, rusty brown.

Just below the base, an iron handle protrudes from the rocks. It’s almost completely covered in strips of blood-stained fabric. My mother comes here every time she misses Holly. Every time she wants to honor Divine Asher for giving her the power to save one of her children.

The reminder fills me with frustration. I think of Harlow locked in her room.

“She hasn’t shown her face since that dinner and speech. You heard them out there. What will people think?”

“That she’s afraid,” Bryce says.

Carter slaps his arm. “He was speaking rhetorically.”

I glare at Bryce. “A lot of help you’ve been on that front.”

He crosses his arms. “I hardly think it’s my fault that she snuck into hunt night. Plus, it looked like she was enjoying the show to me.”

“Looked like you enjoyed her watching,” I say.

Bryce arches a brow. “You’re being a bit territorial for someone who’s just a job to you.”

“A job or not, she’s still my job.”

“Did you have quality time with Miriam before you were interrupted?” Carter asks.

Bryce barks out a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Carter stares me down. “You know what I mean. You’ve had that look in your eyes and I can’t tell if it’s Harlow or⁠—”

“It’s nothing,” I snap. “And yes, I took care of my needs—now drop it. You both know how it is. The possessiveness comes with the territory. I wasn’t expecting it to be so bad when I don’t feel anything for her.”

They glance at each other, another unspoken conversation passing between them.

“You need to stop by the recovery room before you go see her. You’re too agitated and you haven’t stopped breathing hard since we left Stefan,” Carter says.

He’s right. My chest is too tight. I tip my head back and draw in a slow, deep breath.

He holds up a placating hand. “It’s normal. We all struggle sometimes.” He winces as he continues. “And Miriam told me you were interrupted and that she didn’t see you again that night.”

“I don’t need you checking on me,” I snap. “I saw someone else.”

Bryce takes a step toward me. “You didn’t, and it’s unlike you to lie.”

The revelation hits me all at once, and I turn away from him, pressing my hands against a tree trunk. “You’ve been following me?”

“Just since the betrothal was announced,” Carter says. “We were worried that some people might not take it well.”

“I’m the heir of Mountain Haven. I don’t need a Divine-damned babysitter,” I snap.

Carter ignores my anger. “We know. You think you’re all-powerful and indestructible, but you know you’re not. We’re just trying to make sure you get the chance to claim the peace you need.”

I stare down at the muddy ground. It’s easier than looking at the divide between us—the way that Carter and Bryce have healed while I’ve remained fractured. They’ve moved on from the night the Drained nearly overran the fort, but some days it feels like I’m just taking my first breath after life as I knew it ended. Like I’m still blinking up at a gray dawn, knowing I’m greeting the first day in a world without my sister—and that it’s my fault she’s gone.

The grief is like an icicle lodged in my sternum. For a moment, I’m too frozen to draw breath.

I tug at the collar of my shirt. I suddenly can’t wait to get out of this sticky linen and into dry clothes. This is not a conversation I want to have now.

“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll go to the recovery room after I bathe. Crisis averted. Then, I’ll go drag Harlow out of her room and figure out what’s wrong with her.”

Carter speaks first. “You sure you don’t feel anything for her?”

I cock my head to the side. “Annoyance. Frustration. Exasperation.”

Carter bites his lip to keep from grinning. “You’re not normally so ruffled.”

I wave him off. “You’ve been spending too much time with your wife and her romantic notions. It’s unhealthy for a man to be so happy.”

“No one would blame you. She’s as clever as she is beautiful,” Carter says, grinning widely.

I think of the way her eyes lit up when looking at the racks of weapons in the armory. “She’s dangerous and hiding something.” I wipe my hand over my face. “The bodyguard knows something. I just need a clue as to what she’s doing in there⁠—”

“Ice.”

I snap my head toward Bryce.

“One of the cooks from the kitchen. She’s chatty, you know—after.” He waggles his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “Focus, Bryce. What about ice?”

“The cook says with everything that they send up to her room, there’s always water and the bodyguard also requests extra ice,” Bryce says.

“You think she has a fever?” I ask.

Bryce shrugs a shoulder. “The cook didn’t know what Harlow is using it for, just that the tray is always returned with no ice remaining several times a day.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell me if she’s ill?” I ask.

Carter laughs. “Isn’t it obvious? You’ve gone on and on to her about our culture, have you not? Why would she want to appear weak if strength is so important here?”

“But I’m⁠—”

“A stranger,” Bryce says. “You’re the guy her family is marrying her off to. She’s hardly a blushing virgin. She’s been married before, for Polm’s sake, but she doesn’t know you. You were expecting her to be meek and she’s not. She is justifiably wary, especially now that you know about her favorite…hobby.”

Carter leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and gives me a hard glare. “Look, what Bryce is trying and failing to say is that she’s clearly not thrilled. If you want to drive that wedge between her and her family, that’s the place to start. Show her something—give her some kind of offering and see what she does with it. If she’s unwell, you have a very big secret that you could trade for a little bit of trust. She just needs that initial push.”

I sigh and drag a hand through my hair. Both of them are good enough not to remind me that they both lost something in the attack—that they want vengeance as bad as I do. Their opportunity to settle a score relies on me winning Harlow over. I’ve got to stop losing sight of the fact that this is bigger than me.

If I’m too nice too quickly, she won’t trust me. She’s too smart for that—and even so, I feel the weight of her bodyguard’s assessment. I don’t completely understand their relationship, but I can tell she trusts him.

She has secrets to trade, but I have secrets too. This is a huge risk, but if she’s actually hurting, it could do wonders to warm our relationship. “You’re right. I’ll show her the Mountain Well.”

Two hours later, after a bath, a meal, and some quiet time in the recovery room, I finally feel up for confronting Harlow.

Unfortunately, when I turn down the hallway, Gaven is still standing guard outside her room.

“Miss Carrenwell is deep in pre-wedding prayer and meditation.”

It’s a credit to the bodyguard that he keeps a straight face while saying it. It makes me even more eager to kill him. I’ve been thinking about it since the moment we left Lunameade. I had hoped that the journey across the Drained Wood would take care of Gaven, but he’s made of surprisingly hearty stuff. I’m going to have to do it myself.

“Neither of us believes that,” I say. “The wedding is tomorrow. I’m done waiting around. I need to speak with her.”

Gaven crosses his arms. “It would bring about ill regard from the Divine to interrupt her now.”

I knew he was going to be a problem when he survived the Drained Wood, but the longer he makes himself an obstruction, the more I wonder how exactly he survived that horde of Drained without any magic.

“Whatever ails her, I have the solution,” I say.

He frowns. “She doesn’t need a healer or I would have already called for you.”

I scoff. “Doubtful. I need to see my wife-to-be. It has been three days. You can let me into that room or we can call off the wedding.”

Gaven doesn’t so much as blink. “I guess it’s off, then.”

I grind my teeth. “Let me into that fucking room.”

“Afraid you’ll have to go through me, boy?”

I grind my teeth. “I’m no boy.”

Gaven gives me a slow once-over. “I’ve been fighting Drained since before you were a Divine daydream. You’re a child playing at being a man. Men don’t threaten. They act.”

I want to just cut his throat, but I need to show some restraint. I have to play the only card I have left—the one that will tell me if something is actually wrong with her. “We have a well.”

Right now, servants are preparing it. I’m confident this will at least pique their interest, so even if Harlow won’t go with me now, I’m betting she’ll go snooping for it later.

I need to know if Gaven cares more about listening to Harlow or about her well-being. That’s a valuable piece of knowledge, and it costs me nothing.

Gaven’s eyes widen slightly, and his posture relaxes. “What do you mean?”

“We have a well. You know—holy water blessed by the Divine,” I continue, ignoring the irritated look on his face. “Everyone thinks the Blood Well is the first well. The Carrenwells’ secret house well, that only the high houses are invited to, is the other. But the first well is actually ours. The Mountain Well snowmelt starts here, then flows south to the Blood Well, and then to Carrenwell House.”

I watch the realization dawn on him. He wants to argue, or maybe to call it blasphemy, but he cares about Harlow enough that he’s considering letting me in.

“Our wedding ceremonies are vigorous. She’s clearly tough, but I want her to feel up to the task. It’s in my best interest that she’s ready for anything,” I say. “For better or worse, my success is tied to hers.”

I can tell I’ve hit the mark by the look in his eye. He doesn’t trust me, but he believes me when he knows my motivation isn’t magnanimous.

Gaven hesitates, his hand on the doorknob. He taps lightly on the door. When Harlow’s voice beckons him inside, he cracks the door open and slips inside before I can get a look. The lock clicks and I try to bite back my irritation.

I barely have a chance to feel the full heat of my anger before the lock turns again and the door swings open. Gaven waves me inside.

I expected Harlow to be in bed. Instead, Kyrin is perched on the bed, watching Harlow. She sits in a chair by the balcony doors, sipping a cup of tea in an airy silk dress that’s too thin for this time of year. Her face looks a bit paler than usual, and her hair is pinned haphazardly on top of her head, wisps of dark hair falling against her delicate neck.

My wolf cocks his head to the side and looks at me.

“Traitor.” I shake my head at him, then turn to Harlow. “Are you well?”

She smiles sweetly. “As well as can be expected—assuming, of course, that the wedding is still on.”

I’d like to take her over my knee and wipe that cocky smile off her face. Instead, I take a breath.

“The servants indicated that you called for quite a lot of ice with your drinks and I thought perhaps you had a fever.”

Her lips part in surprise. “Perhaps I just like my drinks very cold.” She cocks her head to the side and looks at me like I’m the dumbest man she’s ever met. “It keeps the deep freeze on my cold, murderous heart.”

I hum in agreement. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you are unwell and too proud to take a trip to our family well. It’s normally cold this time of year, but my mother just had several sunstones put in to heat it, so it’s quite comfortable.”

Her spine straightens ever so slightly, her gaze flitting from me to Gaven. The bodyguard gives the barest nod.

“Very well. I know how you men love to show off. Take me to this well.” She extends her hand in a mock imitation of a storybook damsel. I take it and help her to her feet.

We walk down the hall in silence, Gaven on our heels. At the bottom of the stairs, on the main floor, I turn and look at Gaven.

“I’m afraid this is where we leave you.”

The guard frowns, but Harlow cuts off any argument he might make by brushing the slit in her dress aside to reveal the dagger strapped to her pale thigh. “I’ll be fine, Gaven.”

He nods and takes up his rigid stance in the hallway, hands tucked behind his back, watchful gaze fixed on us.

I pull out a blindfold and hold it up to Harlow.

“Surely you’re joking.”

I grin. “Don’t worry, lovely, I’ll stay close so you don’t trip.”

She grumbles as I tie the silk around her eyes. I loop an arm around her and guide her down the hallway through a series of twists and turns until we’re at the entrance to the well.

I lead her down the stairs like I’m stealing her away to some dark underworld where I might get lost too. I hold fast to her waist as we descend and pray to Divine Harvain for luck that this is the thing that will finally get her to let her guard down.

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