State of Sorrow (Untitled #1)(121)

She looked at the Rhyllian lord, the confident smile playing at his lips, and something else occurred to her.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Sorrow asked.

“Because you are going to give me the land I want after you win the election tomorrow.”

He said it with such certainty that Sorrow caught herself about to nod before she managed to stop herself. “You have no way of knowing I’m going to win. Mael might.”

“No, he won’t. We both know that now. And even if, by some miracle, he did, he’d hand it to you. All he wants is for you to love and accept him. He seems to think I’m the reason you hate him, and that’s why you have such a troubled relationship. He’s made it very clear that if he were to win, I wouldn’t be welcome here because of it. So I suppose it’s lucky for me now that he’s not going to.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you think I’d give you Rhannish land.”

“Firstly, because I know about you and my son.”

Sorrow’s skin flamed as her innards turned to liquid.

“Don’t bother denying it. I know.” His eyes turned to the bed, his brows raised, and Sorrow’s face burned brighter.

“He told you?” Sorrow said. There was no point in lying if that was the case.

“Stars, no. He’d sooner betray his entire country than harm you. No, he didn’t tell me.”

“Then how?”

Vespus took another sip of his drink. “You never did figure out who your spy was, did you?”

A shiver ran through her as some instinct woke inside her. Something slippery and loose: a warning. She’d walked into the room believing she had the upper hand, but right then she wondered what other cards Vespus held, that he was so willing to show her the ones he had.

“Who was the spy?” She fought to keep her voice level.

“Not who. What.” He looked at her. “Not even a guess?”

Sorrow shook her head.

“You remember Aphora? Her ability is an affinity with birds. She can summon them, ask them to do her bidding. It’s not all that uncommon, as abilities go. I bet you didn’t know the idea for training hawks as messengers originated in Rhylla, did you? Because of the ability. It sparked an idea. Except Aphora can speak to the birds. And they can speak to her. They can tell her everything they see, and hear…”

In her mind’s eye Sorrow saw her outside the inn in Rhylla, the very first time she’d met her. How the hummingbirds that had so enchanted her had gathered around the Rhyllian woman, like moons orbiting a planet.

Sorrow had another flash of memory then – the night at the ball, when she and Rasmus had so recklessly kissed right there in the Great Hall in Adavaria. The birds that had flown above them, jewel colours flashing through the vines.

“In the Rhyllian queen’s home… Shame on you both.” Vespus read her thoughts on her face.

But she was too busy sifting back through the last few weeks to rise to it. Every time they’d had the windows open in the North Marches. In Ceridog, when someone had somehow seen them holding hands – the swallows darting outside. Birds. Birds everywhere.

In the ambassador’s palace in the castle complex. The window was open; she remembered the smell of the roses… Charon had closed it, but what had they said before? She couldn’t remember.

Sorrow’s heart was beating so hard her chest hurt. “You have no proof,” Sorrow said. “The twittering of birds, and the word of a lackey.”

“I don’t need proof. The mere idea would be enough to damage you beyond repair. And Rasmus would be arrested. Melisia loves the boy but, as we’ve established, she’ll put her dream of some fictional, utopian Rhylla before anything else.” He paused to laugh. “You’ve rather reminded me of her, with your antics over this campaign. But, yes, she’d arrest him. It would kill her to, but she would do it rather than risk being seen to be making exceptions for her nephew. And even if no proof is found, he’d be ruined just by the gossip. No one would want him near them.”

“He’s your son…” Sorrow said.

“Ah, but not my only one. Come now, don’t look so shocked. You met Xalys. I could easily legitimize one of my bastards. After all, Harun legitimized Mael…” He raised his brows.

Was that it? Was this the truth, finally? Sorrow made a guess.

“He’s not Mael, is he? And you killed everyone who might have been able to prove it, prove that you’ve been raising him for this all his life, not just the last two years.”

“Please… Beliss was an old woman. She was my nanny, you know. That should tell you something of her age. Gralys was an artist. Who knows what she did in her recreational time? And as for Corius … well… Accidents happen. I’m sure anyone can fall down the stairs and break their neck.”

“I know he’s not the real Mael Ventaxis,” Sorrow snapped. “Stop playing games and tell the truth. Who is he?”

Vespus laughed. “And give up one of my great joys? Hearing about your attempts to uncover his true identity has been quite the tonic, Sorrow. So, no, I’m not going to tell you, either way. Think of it as a little insurance for me. I’m the only person on Laethea who knows the truth. Should anything happen to me, it’ll die with me. Could you live, not knowing?”