Richelle Mead - THORN QUEEN

The other thing I noticed after waking was that Jasmine was sitting right beside me, gray eyes staring into mine. I bolted upright. “What the hell are you doing here?” I exclaimed. “You’re not supposed to be loose.”

Girard’s cuffs were still upon her, and she jerked her head back toward the castle. “I’m not exactly loose.”

I followed her motion and saw a dozen guards, all keeping a respectful distance, but all watching Jasmine closely. When Volusian had disappeared, Rurik had undoubtedly increased her security detail.

“Jasmine,” I said, “I’m not really in the mood for your banter, okay? Save your whining and insults for a day when I don’t have to worry about having caused a war.”

Her face was perfectly calm. “I heard what happened to you.”

I braced for smugness. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone has.”

“I’ll fight for you, you know.”

“Look, I’m sure-wait. What did you say?” I stared at her, waiting to see that composure crack. It didn’t. She was still serious and actually looked older than her age.

“He had no right. I told you before: no one does that to a daughter of Storm King. Not even to you.”

I was speechless for a moment, still waiting for a punch line. “Jasmine…you hate me.”

She nodded. “Yup. But that doesn’t change what happened. No one does that to our father either and gets away without punishment. Dorian should stab Katrice too.”

I decided not to mention that nothing had been done to our father technically, seeing as he had died years ago. “What will you do exactly?”

“Same thing you will. Fight. Use my magic. Summon monsters.”

“But…I mean, even if you’re trying to, um, protect our family honor, you realize you’re still helping me in the process, right? I thought you wanted to destroy me and go have Dad’s world-conquering grandson.”

“Oh,” she said sweetly, “I still do. And I will. But we’re going to deal with Katrice first. Our father’s heir cannot be born from rape. I told you before-only someone worthy. That bastard wasn’t, and his mother has to pay for it. Once she’s done…well, then I’ll deal with you. Besides, someone’s got to take her kingdom when we kill her. Might as well be me.”

Whoa. There were so many parts of Jasmine’s logic that were flawed that I didn’t even know where to start. I didn’t entirely know the story of her own conception, but my mother had been raped. God knew how many other women Storm King had taken advantage of; I found it hypocritical of Jasmine to take such a high moral ground about his heir in light of that. Still, I couldn’t deny the fact that she would be useful, and if that was the reasoning it took for her to help me, so be it. It would also be handy to not have her trying to kill me.

“Well, then, thanks,” I said at last. I decided not to mention just then that there was no way in hell I would ever let her rule the Rowan Land. Details, details.

Jasmine looked supremely pleased. “So I can go free then, right?”

I scoffed. “Not a chance.”

“But I’m helping you!”

“Yeah, and in the same breath, you talked about how you want to usurp me. Look…” I glanced back at her guardians. I would have to consult with Rurik about those least likely to try to knock her up, now that Volusian was missing. Some of my soldiers were female. “You can wander the castle more-under guard, of course. And I’ll see about…” I frowned, suddenly recalling my helpers at Art’s house. They were close to Jasmine’s age, relatively speaking, and for Markelle at least, I had no doubts whatsoever of her loyalty. I wondered if she might have the makings of a bodyguard/friend. “I’ll see about getting someone your own age to hang out with you.”

Jasmine scowled. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

“Yeah, well, your cell in the dungeon is still available.”

She gave me her trademark sullen glare and then stormed off back inside. Nonetheless, I felt like she really would help me, and frankly, I was going to need everyone I could find to get me out of this mess. Kiyo had implied that Katrice might call in some allies, and if this became about multiple kingdoms squaring off…

I stood up, suddenly feeling ill about it all once more. The flames of passion and initiative that had flared in me earlier began to flicker uneasily. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t lead an army. I couldn’t go to war. What was I thinking?

Trying to shake off my building panic attack, I headed back toward the castle, wanting to hide in my room for a while. I passed Rurik along the way. He’d apparently been seeking me, hoping I’d go talk to the gathered soldiers and inspire them-particularly since word had come that Dorian was almost here. I nodded quickly, promising anything, so long as I could get a moment to compose myself and summon my earlier confidence. All of this was overwhelming me. I needed to be alone, lest I start crying.

Only, I was apparently still a ways from being left alone. Ysabel was standing outside my bedroom, arms crossed. Apparently, my earlier suspicions had been right. She really did hang out in the hall waiting for me.

“No magic lessons,” I told her.

“Magic lessons?” she exclaimed, straightening up. She was as immaculate as ever, her red hair twisted into myriad braids. “I’m never teaching you anything again. My lord is sending me away-and all because of you!”

The land might have healed me, but there were only so many weird revelations I could handle today. Jasmine becoming my ally currently held the lion’s share. “What are you talking about?”

“My lord is on his way,” she hissed. “And he sent word that I was to pack up my things and be prepared to leave. He has a small group of guards ready to escort me away.”

“So?” I shrugged, eyeing my door longingly. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She took a step toward me. “He’s not sending me back to the castle. He’s sending me back to my village-back to my children. Don’t you understand? He’s through with me! He’s casting me aside because of you!”

The anger and hate on her face made me guess she’d forgotten I could suffocate her. As it was, she was in my personal space so much that I feared she might actually attempt physical blows. I wanted to tell her that Dorian casting her aside had little to do with me. That was just Dorian’s way. Shaya had said Ysabel was one in a string of mistresses who resembled me. He’d grown tired of her, just like the rest, but that wasn’t my fault.

Telling her that wouldn’t help, though. “I’m sorry. But, I mean, won’t you be glad to see your kids?”

“Glad?” she cried. “What do I have to give them? What do I have to show for my time at court? I have nothing. I came to Dorian’s court to improve my children’s lives-to bring us wealth. Now I have to return empty-handed, tossed aside to our backwoods village.”

Ouch. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know whether to laud a mother’s attempts to improve her kids’ lives or look down on someone who’d tried to do it via sleeping with a king.

“I’m sorry,” I said wearily. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”

I started to turn away, and to my astonishment, she grabbed my shoulder and spun me toward her. I think she’d been about to hurl an insult, but I gave her no chance. I still wasn’t ready to be touched, and she’d caught me off guard. With no second thoughts, my instincts summoned up magic, the air shoving her away from me and slamming her-hard-into a wall. She stood there, dazed, and I gasped, horrified at what I’d brutally done without even thinking. I really was turning into my father’s daughter.

“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping toward her when she didn’t move.