Remnant of Power

Chapter Thirty-one

Yavenna

The next day, after eating lunch as fast as etiquette allowed, Yavenna excused herself from dessert, saying she had a headache. But actually, she felt almost light-hearted - happier than she'd been since she arrived in Arvad. A huge weight had been taken from her. There was an army coming to fight Ulric and it wasn't up to her to find a way to kill him. Once he was dead, the slaves would be released. And then later today she and Mal would escape together – to freedom. She had to keep reminding herself to stop smiling.

Reaching the suite, Yavenna found that Sharva had laid out Yavenna's red silk riding habit on the bed. She changed quickly, then found the dark grey shift and scarf she'd borrowed to creep around in the night before. Because the dress was quite loose fitting, there was a slight chance that Mal might just be able to squeeze into it, so she rolled it into a bundle and tucked it under her arm before leaving the room.

Standing in the corridor with her arms clutched across her stomach, she realized she was trembling. It must work. Her plan must succeed. She couldn't bear to even think what might happen if she was caught. Stepping as lightly as she could, she turned down the corridor in the same direction she had taken last night. She reached the end of the corridor and started to climb the stairs, thinking.

His name was Mal. King Mal of Arvad. She whispered the name and savoured the sound of it. King Mal and ... she smiled to herself, she wouldn't say it, but it might be possible! She almost skipped up the stairs. But then she stopped. If she was leaving the castle, there was somewhere she had to go before she left. She chewed her lip. It probably wasn't a really good idea, but...well, it would only take a minute or two. She felt a little tingle of the strange hankering she'd felt before. Yes, she would risk it.

She turned around and tiptoed back down the two flights of stairs. As she reached the corridor she heard footsteps running up from the floor below. She stepped towards her room exactly as Sharva ran into her.

Her maid hadn't seen her because she was crying. Yavenna had almost never seen her cry before. Putting one arm around Sharva's shoulders she wiped the girl's cheeks with her fingers.

"Whatever's the matter, dearest Sharva?" Yavenna scanned her face. "Did something happen with Torrehon?" She pulled the headscarf out from under her arm and dabbed Sharva's eyes with the edge of it.

Sharva shrugged and brushed a speck of invisible dust off her skirt, gulping a sob, but Yavenna didn't have much time to spare. She had to distract Sharva.

"Did I tell you that Lady Rassten and I sorted out the menu for the wedding meal?" she eyed her maid. Sharva looked at her with blank eyes, another tear slipped down her cheek.

Yavenna leaned closer to Sharva. "Do you remember that secret prisoner we saw yesterday?" She made her voice as quiet as she could. "I went to see him yesterday. He told me he's the rightful King. Ulric killed his father."

But Sharva didn't even acknowledge what Yavenna said. Yavenna leaned against the wall to look at her friend, then took her hand in hers.

"What is it, Sharva, what's the matter?" Sharva stared at the floor for a minute, then sighed heavily.

"Just now, I went to meet Torrehon in the gardens, as we'd arranged yesterday, but as I approached the bench where he said he'd be, I saw him with his arm around another girl, one of the housemaids. She's very pretty. As I walked along the path, they must have heard me and they drew apart, but he touched her cheek, and I saw he'd been holding her hand. He came after me and said it was nothing, that she was trying to flirt with him, but the other day I saw a bruise on his neck, you know, the sort you get from kissing. I know it wasn't me that made it." She sighed again. "I can't lose him. What can I do to make sure it's only me he wants?"

Yavenna put her arm around her friend and squeezed her. "But Sharva, you're so pretty, and you get on so well, don't you? You've been betrothed for ages; he always seems besotted with you. I'm sure everything will be fine. It's probably just the novelty of moving to a new country, and meeting lots of new people."

She stood up straight, "Anyway, go into the suite. I'll be there in a minute. There's just something I've got to check. I'm sure everything will be fine. Go on, hurry."

Biting her lips, she ran down the stairs to the next landing.

There was still noise rising up the stairwell from the banqueting hall and the back of a guard paced down the corridor in front of her. She'd have to be quick.

Darting up to the door of the King's study she grasped the handle. It was still unlocked. With wide eyes, she pushed it open.

The room was empty. She opened the wardrobe, and knelt on the rug in front of it. Parting the heavy robes, she slid them aside to get to the drawers. And saw the light. It was there again. Still glowing. The King's stone must be in there. She held her hand over the gap. It was warm. She grabbed hold of the side of the drawer and jiggled it. If the next thing she was going to do was run up and get Mal, then sneak out to the stables and ride away, she could risk breaking the drawer. She wanted to touch the stone. In fact, if she was going to break the drawer open just to touch it...was there any point in leaving it here? Perhaps she could...

Something clattered outside the room. Yavenna bolted back out of the wardrobe, shoving the door closed and leaping to her feet.

The door opened. It was Aunt Breanna. And ten guards.

Aunt Breanna walked up to her. Her expression wasn't very genial today. In fact, her expression was exactly the same as when she'd commanded Yavenna to forget about seeing Mal.

"Bind her wrists. She shouldn't be here. The only reason she's here is that she's up to no good." She raised her eyes to the Princess. "Tut, tut, Princess. A little bird told me you might be heading this way. You really should watch out for these little birds." She faced the guards. "Take her next door. Quickly."

The guards jostled her into the next room and tied her wrists and ankles to a heavy chair.

"My son and the King aren't in the castle right now. They've gone to prepare for tomorrow. It looks like you're spending the night before your wedding alone, Princess. But you never know, my son might come back at any moment and decide to ask you a few questions." Aunt Breanna smiled like a jackal about to pounce.

"Who's your son?" Stupid. She shouldn't have asked. She had the feeling she wouldn't want to know the answer.

"His name is Gildron."

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