Richelle Mead - Shadow Heir

“What do you think we should do about the wedding?” I asked, forcing myself to change the subject. “They know I’ll be there.” Two servants of mine, Rurik and Shaya, were getting married soon, and I was hosting the festivities.

Dorian nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. “They also know all of your allies and a number of others who simply don’t want to be on your bad side will be there. So long as we can get you back to the Thorn Land securely, there shouldn’t be—”

“I don’t care what he’s doing! It’s imperative I speak to him now !”

Dorian and I both flinched at the interruption and turned in surprise toward the source of the angry female voice. Guards standing sentry at the sitting room’s door immediately began protests about how Dorian wasn’t to be disturbed, but it was clear those explanations were being ignored.

A world-weary expression crossed Dorian’s face. “It’s fine,” he called. “Let her in.”

I’d been sprawling on a chaise, nearly as at ease as Dorian, but now I straightened up. I knew who this newcomer was and wouldn’t be caught off-guard.

Ysabel came striding into the room, wearing a gown that was elaborate even by gentry standards. I always thought the best term to describe their fashion sense was “Medieval rave.” Her dress was made of a heavy silver satin with a crazy V neckline that went nearly to her stomach. A pattern of seed pearls trimmed all the hems and also adorned her long auburn hair. I wondered if she was on her way to some formal event or if she was simply continuing in her efforts to lure in Dorian. She’d been his mistress until he and I were together, but he hadn’t resumed things after our split.

Perhaps more astonishing than her attire was that she had company. Trailing in her wake were Pagiel and her formidable and generally unpleasant mother, Edria. The boy had to hurry up to keep pace with the other two and looked miserable. A few moments later, his younger sister Ansonia also entered nervously. She had long hair, almost the color of mine, and looked terrified to be here.

“Your Majesty,” exclaimed Ysabel, coming to a halt before Dorian. I couldn’t tell if her cheeks were flushed with anger or bad makeup application. Considering the gentry often made their cosmetics out of nuts and berries, neither possibility would have surprised me. “This is unacceptable.”

“Mother—” began Pagiel, reaching her side.

Ysabel pointed at me, anger flashing in her eyes. “I refuse to allow her to keep endangering my son! Why, he nearly died today.”

“I did not!” exclaimed Pagiel.

Dorian gave Pagiel a calm once-over. “He looks fine to me.”

“It was a very close thing,” said Edria gravely.

“I don’t know,” I said, recalling how quickly Pagiel had dispatched his foe. “From what I saw, he had things under control.”

“How would you know?” asked Ysabel with a sneer. “ You ran away.”

I felt a blush of my own creeping over my cheeks. My new coddled status still grated on me, as did the knowledge that I had to keep myself out of harm’s way while others defended me. No matter how logical it all seemed, I’d never be easy about it.

“Hey, I did my part,” I said.

Ysabel had already turned away from me and was addressing Dorian. “It isn’t right that my son is risking his life for her .”

“Agreed,” said Edria. Her dark hair was pulled back so tightly that I swore it stretched the skin on her face. Maybe it was the gentry equivalent of a facelift. “He has no stake in this alleged prophecy concerning her son. He owes her nothing.”

Pagiel kept trying to interject and was constantly shushed by his mother and grandmother. I felt bad for him, particularly as the only male in that family. His father had died years ago, and Ysabel’s father had allegedly been some ne’er-do-well who ran out on them. Pagiel had no one but women around.

Dorian glanced between Ysabel and Edria. “I’m not ordering him to do anything for her. He goes with her by choice.”

“But it’s not safe,” said Ysabel.

Dorian remained unmoved. “And again, I say that he goes with her by choice. Honestly, I’m not really sure what you expect me to do. Your son is a free citizen of my kingdom, and he is of age to make his own decisions.”

Ysabel looked on the verge of stomping her feet. “It’s dangerous! Isn’t it your job to protect your subjects from harm?”

“Certainly,” said Dorian. “And at the same time, I must also look after the kingdom’s needs. I can hardly protect every soldier in times of war, can I? And even if we aren’t technically at war right now, this kingdom is supporting the Queen of Rowan and Thorn. Doing that has certain unavoidable dangers, but there’s nothing to be done for it. Hence my use of ‘unavoidable.’ I can hardly denounce him for voluntarily choosing to assist her. And, in fact, since he’s gone above and beyond to keep her safe—as today’s skirmish proved—he’s actually due for commendation.”

Pagiel beamed under his king’s praise, but Ysabel’s face grew darker. Part of me felt a little sorry for her. After all, she was a mother trying to protect her son. Bitchy or not, she did care about him. At the same time, it was hard for me to give too much credit to someone who’d often used her son for her own gain. After the death of her husband, Ysabel had come to Dorian’s court with the sole purpose of seducing a man (preferably the king) who would then provide for her. Bringing Pagiel and Ansonia had been a ploy on Ysabel’s part to enhance her own allure. Fertility was a continual concern among the gentry, who didn’t conceive easily. Flaunting her two children was Ysabel’s attempt at showing off what a good catch she was.

“There, you see?” asked Pagiel triumphantly, finally getting a word in. “I have the king’s support. I believe in what I’m doing. I want to further the prophecy.”

I winced a little at that. While I was thankful to those who were helping protect me from Kiyo and Maiwenn, that gratitude was marred by the knowledge that most who aided me did so in the hopes that my son truly would conquer humanity. Gentry and humans had once shared the same world, but the former had eventually left as magic faded and technology rose. Many gentry felt they’d been wronged and deserved a claim back there.

“You’re a foolish boy,” snapped Edria. “And you have no idea what you believe in. Half of why you do this is because of her sister.”

I saw a flicker of embarrassment in Pagiel’s features, but he held his ground. It was true that I’d originally gotten to know him when he began showing a romantic interest in Jasmine. Over time, however, he’d become vehemently opposed to those who would threaten unborn children and had taken my side because of that.

“My reasons are my own,” Pagiel returned, glaring at his mother and grandmother. “Not yours. This is what I’m choosing to do, and you can’t stop me.”

The three of them seemed to have forgotten us and had been drawn back into their own private family dispute. Ansonia continued skulking in the back. I was guessing her mother had ordered her here to show family solidarity.

“Pagiel’s been amazing,” I said, hoping to lend him a little support. “In fact, he’s been essential on our trips to the Otherworld. Few other gen—er, shining ones have that kind of power in the human world.”

“Power that’s being wasted,” said Edria with a sniff. “He has more important things to do than be your errand boy.”

“Grandmother, you can’t talk to her like that!” Pagiel looked mortified. “She’s the Queen of Rowan and Thorn.”

“I don’t care if she’s—”

“Enough,” said Dorian, raising his hand. Everything about his posture was still easy and relaxed, but there was sternness in his voice that drew everyone’s attention. “This conversation is done. There’s nothing I can—or will—do. Both of you charming ladies must accept that Pagiel is a man and in control of his own life. Although, if it’s any comfort”—he spared me a brief, amused glance—“I doubt he’ll be traipsing off to the human world anytime soon, now that Her Majesty’s secret hideaway is no longer so secret.”