Rebel's Blade (The Aermian Feuds Book 1) Read online

  There was only terror.

  And hysteria.

  Gavriel rocked her, his lips on her temple, murmuring to her she was safe. Eventually, the hysteria turned into soul-shattering sobs. Gav’s arms were no longer a cage but a sanctuary, and so she snuggled into them, crying herself asleep.

  The next day, she was so embarrassed that she avoided any eye contact with Gav at all, but the stubborn man wouldn’t let her get away with it.

  Three little words.

  You’re not alone.

  It turned out that Gav, too, suffered from nightmares because of his wife’s accident. He wished someone had been there to comfort him on those nights. Gav brushed the hair from her face, just like her father always had. “There is no reason to be embarrassed, Ruby. What happened to you was traumatic, and it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. I can help fight your demons.”

  Sage teared up with his compassionate promise. She never expected to have someone care for her in the palace of all places. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have gained two such devoted friends. Mira and Gavriel were something special. She wished she could take them with her when the time came for her to depart.

  Twenty-Five

  SAGE

  Between her afternoon visits with the king and Gavriel’s company in the evenings, Sage’s days were more diverting and seemed to move a little quicker. Neither man was anything like she’d expected him to be.

  She had accepted the king’s visits, but still didn’t know what to make of them. He insisted she call him Marq, and it was odd using his given name instead of his title. She still expected someone to reprimand her every time she said it.

  Each day she spent with him it became increasingly evident that something wasn’t right. Some days, he was teeming with energy and stories. Others, he stared morosely out to sea, like he had nothing to live for. Sage didn’t know which persona she would greet each day. Marq lost track of time and memories. It frustrated him when he recovered from one of his episodes.

  It was heartbreaking to watch. He may have been physically strong, but his mental state was deteriorating. The king hadn’t abandoned Aermia like she had been led to believe; he was sick, but not in the usual way. Whatever it was, it could not be seen or examined. From the stories he told, however, she realized how much he loved his people. It was sad that he had not the capabilities to even care for himself, let alone a kingdom.

  How had his sons kept his current state a secret for so long? How would the rebellion use that information? That question plagued her. She didn’t know what she would do with the information. Despite her best efforts, the king had grown on her. He didn’t deserve what they had planned for him. It wasn’t a crime to grow older. Sage still didn’t care for his sons, but she had softened toward Marq. She didn’t know what to do. She needed to think.

  And think she did.

  Sage had been trapped in her suite for two weeks. She needed to get out, even if it was only a walk, before she lost her mind.

  Her sanctuary was her balcony overlooking the sea.

  Sage stretched her poor, abused legs out and propped her feet on the railing. At least they were healing. The sun warmed her deliciously as she plotted how to trick Mira into letting her out.

  Any time she brought the idea up, the blond healer would change the subject or make excuses about her health. True, Sage wasn’t completely healed, but she knew her own body and she could handle a walk. Her coughing had abated during the day and was now only an issue at night.

  “I haven’t seen a prettier sight since my dear Ivy,” a deep voice purred.

  She jerked, but relaxed once she recognized the voice. Sage cracked her eyes open sleepily, wearing a lazy grin. “You are a shameless flirt! What would your sons say if they heard you speaking like that?”

  He flashed her a wolfish grin and plopped down in the seat he had adopted for himself. “They would probably be disappointed that I beat them to it.” A pause. “Sam would give me his blessing though, once he stopped nursing his own wounded pride.”

  A peal of laughter erupted from her, which seemed to please him. His grin deepened. It was good to laugh. Freeing, almost.

  “I don’t doubt that for one moment. I never know quite what to expect from him.” Sage had seen Sam here and there, but he never stayed long, and she appreciated that. He still made her uncomfortable. She didn’t think it was the man himself so much as the fact he was a sizeable man, one who could hurt her if he chose, and it was that which unsettled her.

  “I have news which I believe will brighten up your day.”

  Sage reached out, clasping the king’s rough hand. “Just having you here considerably brightens my day, Marq.”

  “And you call me the flirt,” the king said, smoothly. He leaned toward her like he had a secret. “What would you say if I told you I was going to steal you away for a walk?”

  Sage squealed, unable to help it. “I would say you were my favorite person in the entire kingdom. Plus, you would save me from an early death of boredom. Please don’t be teasing me, my poor heart couldn’t handle the disappointment.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Marq sprung up from the chair and held out his arm.

  Sage graced him with a blinding smile and allowed him to take her arm. She barely kept from bouncing on her toes. She was to be free, even if it was just for a bit.

  Mira and the guards stood outside the door. Various degrees of surprise showed on their faces when she followed in the king’s wake. All of them bowed deeply as they passed, and Sage struggled not to pick up her pace. Someone surely would send her back into her gilded cage. A soft, sweet voice made Marq pause. And there it was. Mira.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty, she’s not well enough to be out. If she exerts herself too much, it will aggravate her injuries.”

  The king looked over his shoulder and spoke. “We’re not going for a strenuous hike in the mountains, only for a walk. She will lose her damn mind being trapped in those rooms any longer. We both appreciate your concern, and I promise to take good care of her. Good day.”

  Having dismissed them, the king strode forward with purpose. Sage craned her neck and met Mira’s worried blue eyes. “I am all right,” she mouthed, smiling encouragingly before facing forward and catching up to His Highness.

  “So where are we going?” Sage inquired curiously. If she had been able to skip, she would have.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  His face betrayed nothing. Marq led her down the long hallway to the last door on the right. The door swung on silent hinges, revealing another suite as elaborate as hers. She was a little disappointed that she wasn’t going for a longer walk but she figured beggars couldn’t be choosers, so she pasted on a smile, appreciative of the king’s kindness. Marq glanced at her face and chortled. “What’s so funny?”

  He pointed at her face. “The look on your face was priceless. Don’t worry, this is not your surprise.” He turned and walked toward an immense bookcase and pushed a silver-leafed book inward, until there was a faint click. The bookcase rolled to the side, exposing an empty doorway.

  Her feet carried her to the king’s side. She ran a hand along the stone looking for the catch. “A secret entrance? Where does it lead?”

  “Follow me, and you will find out.”

  King Marq lit a lantern and began descending the stone steps. Unease crept over her. Was this some kind of trap? It would be foolhardy to blindly trust him. She turned it over in her mind. Had Marq truly wanted to harm her it was within his power to do so, even more so because their alone time afforded him many opportunities to do whatever he pleased—yet he’d never given her cause for fear. She realized it was more the situation than the man himself that discomfited her, and even that was lessened by the small weight at her ankle. After the king had caught her off guard that first day, Sage had made sure to always have her little knife on her.

  “Are you coming?” His words echoed up to her.

  Sage stepped into
the dark stone stairwell, her decision made. The king waited until she’d reached him before continuing down the spiraling steps. Each of her ragged breaths felt overly loud in the closed space. Time ceased to exist in the shadowy stone staircase. Every once in a while, they passed darkened doorways. When she asked where they led, the only answer she received was, “Here and there.”

  She shrugged it off; everyone had secrets.

  Forest-green lichens crept up the walls the farther they descended. Sage’s legs shook with each step, causing her to brace a hand against the wall. Something slimy squished between her fingers and down her hand. Disgusted, Sage jerked her hand back. What was that? She shook her hand, ready to break down and ask how much farther they had to go, but, before she got the chance, Marq spoke.

  “Watch your step, the stones are quite slippery.”

  Sage rolled her eyes at his back.

  “I saw that,” he chided.

  What? How could he have seen her face? Spoken like a true parent.

  His low chuckle filled the air. “No, I didn’t, but I did raise two boys.”

  She smiled at his response. It sounded like something her papa would say. The crashing of waves on stone snagged her attention. She looked around, trying to locate the sound, hope filling her. “Is that what I think it is?” she whispered.

  The king looked up at her, eyes glittering with excitement. “Come and see for yourself.”

  Sage almost fell on her face in her haste to scramble down the remaining stairs. Marq steadied and aided her the next few steps as they entered a cave. Sage stared in awe at the starfish that clung to the cove walls. She had a special fondness for the little sea creatures. Her heart stopped when they wound around a large porous rock and she spotted a rough archway pouring sunlight into the dim hidden cove. Their speed picked up as they burst out of the cave.

  Her feet sunk into the damp sand, filling her slippers up. She was on the beach, the bloody beach! She yanked off her slippers and wiggled her toes in the sand, a bright smile lighting her face. The king watched her with a silly smile of his own, taking in each of her expressions.

  Joy and appreciation filled her. Momentarily forgetting his station, and her suspicions, she grabbed him in a fierce hug. “Thank you so much!” Sage whispered into his shirt. She stretched up on her toes and kissed his whiskered cheek before stepping out of his arms.

  She looked up at him only to see the oddest expression cross his face. Suddenly self-conscious, she dropped her eyes to the golden sand beneath her and took another step back. “Uh… I’m sorry,” she mumbled. He had told her to call him Marq, it was true, however, his casual behavior did not negate the fact that he was still their sovereign and not her grandfather. She needed to keep that in mind.

  “Ruby!” he admonished, his boots entering her view. A large, calloused finger slid under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. A wealth of emotions simmered there. “It has been a long time since someone has embraced me with genuine affection. Thank you for such a gift.”

  His sturdy arms embraced her tenderly. Warmth and affection filled her as she took in his words. Maybe, just maybe, she’d found a kindred spirit in the Aermian king.

  After releasing her, she was shocked to see him plop down in the sand and strip off his boots and stockings. He rolled up his trousers and stood. “Shall we, my darling?”

  Sage rolled her eyes at him—she would never break him of that. “Despite that nickname, we shall, my king.”

  He led them straight to the ocean. Sage lifted her skirt as the warm water raced past her toward the pristine beach. Her eyes closed as she tipped back her face and raised her arms above her head, savoring the sun’s warm embrace. The briny sea breeze ruffled her clothing, making the linen slap against her legs. She wished to capture this moment and remember it always. This was freedom. Freedom and peace.

  “I love the sea,” she said, not opening her eyes. “As a little girl, I always wanted to be of the Sirenidae. My grandmother used to tell me fantastic stories about swimming with them when she was a girl. Do you think the Sirenidae still exist?”

  Sage twisted to face the older man, opening her eyes. A mixture of love and wistfulness shone in his face.

  “What is it?” It was times like these he would turn inward, shutting everyone out. She gave him an encouraging smile.

  “I met Ivy here. She was so beautiful I didn’t think her real. I tripped just trying to get to her,” he grinned absently at the memory. “She stood exactly as you are now, face to the sun, arms stretched out, the waves caressing her ankles. I thought she was a mirage that would disappear before my eyes.” He crossed his arms and kicked at the waves. “The truth was a lot less fantastical. She was the daughter of an oyster fisherman. Tired of waiting for him to return one day, she wandered onto this beach looking for sea turtles. That moment is etched into my memory. She was the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon.”

  The love and devotion in his voice brought tears to her eyes. That was what love should be like.

  “I have never heard that story before. Thank you for sharing it with me, I will cherish it,” Sage whispered, meaning every word.

  His eyes emptied, the light extinguished. Her heart clenched at his desolate expression. Today was a good day, and she would not let him disappear.

  An idea formed and so she plotted. She could be thrown into the dungeon for this, but it would be worth it. Sage swung her foot back and kicked a volley of water over the king. He yelped in surprise, eyes widening. Water dripped from his graying blond curls onto his startled face.

  Life flickered back into him, and then there was something in his eyes that gave her pause. Feigning nonchalance, she balanced on the balls of her feet and shrugged one shoulder. “Your face was a little red, I thought you might need to cool off.”

  There was definitely a deviling gleam in his blue eyes. His face twisted into a mischievous grin, one she had almost certainly seen on Sam’s face; like father like son.

  “My dear lady, you look overheated yourself. Allow me to refresh you,” he growled leaping toward her.

  The sand shifted beneath her feet, impeding her escape. A wave of water slapped her in the face, leaving her sputtering.

  “That’s it! I will have my vengeance!” she shouted, flinging saltwater at the ambushing king. Sage only got one good splash in before he struck again, practically drowning her. Sage lifted her hands up in surrender. “I yield, I yield!”

  “So, you yield and therefore agree that I am the most skilled water warrior you’ve yet crossed paths with?” He puffed his chest in mock pride.

  She pushed her dripping hair from her face and wiped the saltwater from her stinging eyes. Sage placed her fist over her heart and bowed with a flourish. “I bow to your superior water warrior skills, Your Majesty.”

  They eyed each other as she stood. The oddity of the situation hit her. If she ever told this story, she was certain no one would believe her.

  He chuckled briefly before composing himself. Almost immediately, however, another chuckle escaped. He then pointed to her head. “You seem to have something in your hair.”

  Sage patted her head and encountered something slimy. Seaweed. She had seaweed in her hair. She looked back at Marq in time to see him struggling to keep a straight face. “Is this funny, sire?”

  His lips twitched once before his laughter rumbled out, joined by her own giggles. Once they had both reigned themselves in, she asked, “What would you like to do now, my king?”

  “My king? Your Majesty? Sire? We are well past all that. Please, call me Marq, darling.”

  “I will call you Marq, the day you stop calling me your darling, my king.”

  “Touché.” the king dipped his head. Marq straightened and gazed at an outcropping of black porous rocks. “How would you like to go starfish hunting? Ivy was always fond of it.”

  “That sounds like just what I need this afternoon.”

  Much to her delight, they found all manner o
f interesting things. Crabs, starfish, sea anemones, sand dollars, and gorgeous sea glass rested in the tide pools; they found every color of the rainbow. When was the last time she’d laughed and smiled so much?

  As the sun sank, they began strolling back to the castle. She tilted her head back and observed the immense gilded prison looming above them. She had half a mind to run screaming in the other direction, but she discarded the idea as soon as it formed. Though frail in mind, the king was strong. In her state, she would make it only a few paces before he caught her.

  She glanced his way and caught him studying her in that intense way he was prone to from time to time. She smiled weakly and dropped her eyes. “Is there something on your mind, my king?”

  “Did you have a nice time this afternoon?” The vulnerability was clear in his voice and it hurt her heart.

  “I can’t remember the last time I have enjoyed myself this much.” Her honesty surprised herself. “Thank you for such a wonderful adventure this afternoon. I will treasure this memory.” And she meant it.

  “The same for me, my darling,” Marq admitted. “Thank you for humoring an old man.”

  Sage raised her chin and winked flirtatiously at Marq. Right before her eyes, Marq Ramses, king of Aermia, blushed.

  “What is this?” she exclaimed, pointing to his pink cheeks. “Are you blushing, Your Majesty?”

  “I don’t know what you are referring to. Men don’t blush, especially not kings. I must have gotten too much sun.”

  “As you say, my king.” Sage tucked away her grin.

  “Your words say one thing but your tone says something very different.” He squinted at her. “Don’t forget that I’ve two sons well versed in sarcasm.”

  “You are quite right.”

  Her smile dimmed. His two sons. Monsters. Sam no doubt was proficient in the art of sarcasm, the crown prince however… A chill ran down her spine. In her meager experience, he didn’t have a humorous bone in his body. Probably no joyful ones either.

  The unlikely duo reached the entrance to the stairwell and began their trek up the slick stairs. Every step slurped obnoxiously in the narrow space. Sage wished she had put her slippers back on as the algae and seawater squished between her toes, but it was too late now. She then noticed that Marq had yet to put his boots back on as well. She squared her shoulders. If the king could do it, then so could she.