Dark Court: The Summons Read online

  Ashra couldn't follow, didn’t understand what was going on, or could explain how the liege was reacting. The girl, the beautiful one that had been presented just a few days ago, had gone missing. Why did he not show more sympathy?

  Roisen's eyes were on her, harshly staring and she couldn't help but look back at him. He was warning her, but of what?

  And then the grating sound of a trigger, followed by a scream. It made her jump and she tore her eyes back to see the man writhing in agony. The liege sat with a small crossbow resting in his hand. No, her mind screamed. This wasn't right.

  "You dare question me, you worm?" the liege spat, pure malice woven through every word. "You dare tell me what I must do?"

  He loaded another arrow into the bow, making Ashra physically cringe. Even this second shot was so outlandish, she was utterly surprised by it. The man contracted in pain.

  "Gerald," the woman called and a shot was cast at her as well, felling her to the ground.

  "You do not challenge me," Raufasger screamed, the rage shaking his voice and the white of his eyes flashed as he attacked the man again, this time with means of one of his guards, who bore a sword. Blood splattered on the floor around in front of them all. "This is my court. You live here by my grace."

  The scene in front of her was so insane, Ashra could not believe what her eyes were telling her. An atrocity was unfolding in front of her eyes. Something had to be done. Raufasger was killing this man. He had to be stopped. The poor man was only looking for his daughter. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

  Roisen's eyes were still harsh when she looked back. "No," he mouthed. She could only stare at him; he refused to let her look away. Why was he stopping her? Why was no one doing anything? The man screamed and she physically wavered in shock and horror.

  Roisen still held her gaze locked in his, refusing to let her look back. He was warning her not to interfere, while her instinct told her to rush to the man's defense. She had no weapon, but what was occurring was so beyond wrong, she couldn't bear it.

  She would die if she interfered. That was what Roisen was warning her and Ashra couldn't question that it was true. She would die if she tried to help.

  The screams stopped and Ashra finally tore her gaze away, seeing both Lord and Lady Gray's dead bodies on the floor. They had implied that Raufasger had done something to their daughter, and by his reaction, it could only be true. He had done something to the girl, and it had been during the masquerade—perhaps even the reason the masquerade had been commanded. It had been something he'd decreed shortly after the girl's introduction. It had been intended for her, and premeditated.

  Nausea turned Ashra's stomach and she knew without a doubt that this girl was dead. Whatever Raufasger had done, this girl had not survived, and the Gray's had accused him—and died for it.

  Shock made her chest so tight; she couldn't breathe. She'd been so distracted by the vile politics of the court, she had forgotten how insane Raufasger was, had overlooked the threat he posed to all of them. Anyone who challenged him, in anything he did, died. How could she have overlooked the biggest threat for petty intimidations?

  People moved as if they had been unfrozen, chatting with each other as if nothing had happened. The bloodied bodies still lay on the floor as people skirted past them, seemingly foul things someone should get rid of.

  Why aren't they doing anything, she wanted to scream, but knew she would join the Grays on the floor if she did—ignored as if they weren't there. This was not something new, or unexpected, she realized. She was the only one who hadn't expected it. How could she not have seen this, understood this? Raufasger was utterly insane, taking a girl's life, and then her parents, on a whim, or because they challenged his vile beastliness.

  She had been worried about Roisen and the petty meanness of Fiedra and Amethyst when they were all under the thumb of an insane and callous tyrant. Roisen had warned her Raufasger had been prowling around. He'd known what he would do, but he hadn't said anything. A time to rest, he had said, while Raufasger ran around and murdered anyone he pleased. How could he stand by and do nothing? How could he have been down in the garden with her, intimate with her, when some girl was being murdered? Had he known that would happen? If so, that was unforgivable.

  Chapter 20:

  * * *

  Ashra had never been so pleased to be released from the evening's entertainment. Even as she left, she still felt breathless with shock, unable to know where her mind was. She had just witnessed two people being murdered, and the whole court had stood by and watched. Their inaction showed the level of both fear and acceptance amongst all the people here. There was nothing they could do. This was not a court where reason and common sense prevailed. Beneath the glittering surface, this court was as insane as she had initially expected—she'd just forgotten, being distracted by the political moves and countermoves.

  As she walked, she saw Lorcan walking ahead, sharp strides with his back to her. He'd stopped her; he'd know what Raufasger would do. Picking up pace, she crossed the distance between them. "Did you know?" she demanded tugging on his jacket arm.

  "Did I know what?" he said without stopping. Apparently, he didn't want to have this conversation with her, that perhaps he'd known what would happen, been intimate with her, seduced her, while a girl was being destroyed somewhere for Raufasger's pleasure.

  "Did you know Raufasger would kill that girl?"

  Finally, he stopped and turned to her, his face impassive. He bit his lip as if tasting it, or making up what he was going to say. Would he lie to her? Of course he would, she decided, chiding herself for being stupid enough to think even for a moment that he wouldn't.

  "I did not know," he said.

  Crossing her arm, she stared into his cool eyes, but he didn't look away, in no way wavering in his expressionless countenance. "But you knew something."

  "Yes, I knew something," he admitted. "Raufasger does not call for masquerades without a reason. His victims don't usually mention it. This time it seems the victim is not coming back."

  "What happened to her?"

  "It is not for us to ask."

  "How can you say that?"

  "Because you saw what happened to the people who did," he said, seemingly losing some of his calm collectedness. There was an anger seeping out, but it felt directed toward her rather than Raufasger.

  "And we do nothing. How can we just let him get away with it? That poor girl."

  "Don't you get it? We are all at his mercy. Count yourself lucky that you weren't in his sights, Lady Greve. Someone had been from the very start."

  "Why don't we—?"

  Quick as lightening, he pressed his finger down on her lips. "Do you recall what I said about the walls having ears? You're not going to survive here if you do and say stupid things."

  Did that include sleeping with him? she wanted to ask.

  "You survived. That is what matters. You are lucky enough to get to live and fight another day. We are all at his mercy; we do what he wants us to or there will be unpleasant consequences. He is the liege and you will serve him, and yourself, better if you understand and accept that."

  She stepped closer, leaning up to his ear and he let her, but not bending down. "He has to be stopped." Stepping back, she looked up into his eyes.

  "That time has come and gone, and scores of people died in the pursuit. He is too strong and we are too weak. You must exist within the system. It is your only choice or you will be the next one on the floor," he warned, speaking in low, hissing tones. "Make no mistake, Lady Greve, this game is definitely lethal, and don't delude yourself otherwise."

  Lorcan walked away and Ashra drew in a shuddering breath. Had she just done something even more dangerous—talking about treason with someone who effectively wanted her removed? The comradery they'd had during one night wasn't something she should depend on.

  Watching him walk around the corner, she chided herself. She could not trust him and was stupid to act like she cou
ld. Lorcan was the strongest person she knew here at court, and he had basically told her that acting against Raufasger was fruitless and ultimately suicidal. Accepting that thought was awful, but she knew Raufasger had the capability to do absolutely anything. Conscience or righteousness did not hold him back, and he wrote the rules as he pleased. Walking around the halls saying Raufasger needed to be removed would be met with quick and permanent punishment. She could not afford to be stupid.

  What was she going to do, she thought as she paced around the hall. For now, she had to trust Lorcan not to hang her with her own loose tongue. For past transgressions, she would have to depend on him, or shortly pay the price. The problem with transgressions was that they hung around, remaining as threats for years to come. She could not afford to act this way.

  At least Raufasger didn't seem to arbitrarily murder people every day. It was only the people who stood against him, or questioned him in any way. She couldn't afford to be one of them, because no one would come to her aid and she was a little ant compared to Raufasger and his power. That was sadly a fact.

  But he'd murdered a sweet and innocent girl, and Ashra didn't even dare think why. The answer refused to remain hidden: because he wanted to. Nausea clenched her stomach again. He had no limits. There was nothing he wasn't willing to do. During the war, when he'd taken over the land, he'd killed sways of people, even people who bowed down before him.

  Here, in this court, these were the people he'd picked to exist around him and she was now one of them. They were at his mercy and she had to find some way to live with that. But she was in danger, even more than she'd recognized a few hours ago. It wasn't just the backstabbing and ruthlessness of the people here, trying to get the better of her, trying to take her land. There was an insane tyrant watching over them each night, with unspeakable urges and instincts.

  She couldn't keep Tabain here. If Raufasger ever sought to punish her, he would do so with what would hurt her the most and that would be her son. The man was willing to kill, or whatever he had done, to that sweet, young girl; he probably had no qualms about hurting a child, and the people would stand around and watch like they had today. In their hearts feeling sorry for her, but showing nothing on their faces, like Lorcan had.

  With renewed urgency, Ashra returned to her apartments. "Marie," she called to Tabain's nursemaid. "You and Tabain need to pack."

  "Madam?" the girl said, appearing in the entrance hall.

  "I'm sending you back to the estate. Now. Hurry." For some reason, she felt she needed to get Tabain to safety as soon as possible. There was a chance that Lorcan would use the ammunition she'd just given him. She couldn't depend that he wouldn't.

  Ashra ordered a trunk to be brought and a carriage to be prepared. It wasn't Tabain that was ordered to be here, it was her, so he should be able to leave without incident. Checking on that fact brought its own perils. Heralding to Raufasger that Tabain was leaving would only highlight his presence to the very person she wanted to forget he existed.

  If she had the choice, she would go as well, but she had to stay, had to represent the family or devastation would wreak down on her and everyone she loved. In truth, Lorcan's offer had never been so appealing, but she could not afford to give into her own weakness. Raufasger would not live forever and giving the family estate away because of fear of dealing with him—well, that was a weakling and a coward. As unpleasant as this place was, she had to persevere.

  Holding her son tightly to her, she carried him down to the nearest courtyard, the one they had arrived at, where a carriage was waiting.

  "How long will we be gone?" Marie asked.

  "I don't know. It's not safe for you here—either of you."

  Tabain struggled a bit, clearly upset by the confusion and commotion. Ashra crouched down with him in his arms. The last thing she wanted to do was send him off, but she had to. It wasn't safe here. "You are going on a journey, my love," she said, making her voice as bright as she could. "Nana is going to throw you a party and you will go home and see her. It will be wonderful, and I will come shortly."

  "Nana," Tabain said with a smile. He hadn't forgotten his grandmother.

  Torunn had been given leave to go check on his estates—surely she would be given leave as well. Holding him close, she kissed his dark curls on top of his head, drawing in the scent of him. How could she exist without him?

  They had never been parted, and Tabain would miss her as much as she would miss him, but it couldn't be helped. She had no guarantees that he was safe here and it was better to have him out of reach.

  "I won't be far away," she promised. "I will come as soon as I can."

  Fortunately, she knew the dowager Lady Greve would take good care of him. At least she didn't have to worry about that. Tabain would have the whole estate at his disposal, and all his toys. Marie would be there to take care of everything he needed, making sure he dressed and napped and bathed.

  Against her own instincts, she lifting him up, she put him into the carriage, holding onto his small, squiggling body a little longer than necessary.

  Tabain hadn't really understood they were leaving without her until they set off and she heard him cry as the carriage pulled away. It broke her heart and almost made her relent on her decision. As much as this would hurt her, he had to be safe and there was no safety here. Hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away. She could not afford to be hurt, to be soft. This was about survival.

  Chapter 21:

  * * *

  The apartments seemed empty without Tabain, and Ashra felt lost. The world had shifted under her feet and she didn't know where she stood anymore. The things she'd cared about a few short days ago were things she didn't care about now, but that wasn't a luxury she could afford. Destitution, or worse, was still a very real threat, although now, the threat of being one of Raufasger's victims hung over her head as well.

  She simply had to navigate this world. And to think she'd been worried about Amethyst and her sharp tongue. That seemed to be the least of her problems. So inconsequential it hardly registered.

  Lorcan was another issue she didn't know how to deal with. What she didn't know was what they were now. Were they enemies, was perhaps the pertinent question. She had been too liberal, too open and that left her open to him taking advantage. She could fully see him stripping her land off her with a 'hard luck' expression on his face. It would be nothing personal.

  But he might have other ideas. Had their tryst started something more meaningful? She didn't think so. He'd pointed out too many times how abstract he saw the masquerade nights. Probably so she wouldn't misunderstand. No problem there. She wasn't aching for something more meaningful from him. If Lorcan was something, he was dangerous, and dropping her guard around him might be fatal.

  They were gathering that night in the southern, yellow hall. That was a new one for her. For some reason, Raufasger liked to move around and Ashra suspected that was part of his paranoia.

  As per usual, she donned one of her gowns, wore her finest jewelry and made herself as beautiful as possible. She hated every part of this. This presentation of herself was not her, not how she saw herself, but she had to do it. This was armor, in a way.

  Her skirts were heavy that night. They would be useless to run in, but what point was there in running? There was nowhere to run to. Raufasger's spies were absolutely everywhere. If someone was not where he placed them, he soon had them exactly where he wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, which was difficult in the confines of the gown, she steadied herself before entering whatever hall Raufasger had picked for the night. Pages opened the double doors for her entrance. The hall certainly was yellow. It was lined with portraits, including a few of Raufasger, looking a tad more elegant than he did in reality, surrounded by treasures and the scepter of Solmna sitting on a table in the background. These paintings were propaganda if she'd ever seen it. He wanted people to see how powerful he was, displaying the important artifacts o
f the conquered.

  Everyone was dressed in their finery. As opposed to when she'd first arrived, she knew most of the faces now. She knew the harmless ones and the ones she had to keep an eye on. It was almost as if she had to worry about the nice ones; the ones that smiled to her face, because in this environment, kindness didn’t thrive.

  Fiedra walked leisurely on the other side in a marine green dress, the material shimmering with the movement. Amethyst appeared next to her, taking her arm and walking with her in a lilac gown. Did they even trust each other, Ashra wondered. Did Amethyst have any idea what Fiedra said behind her back?

  As they walked, Amethyst looked over, her eyes sparkling with the candles around the hall. She smiled a greeting, but it sent shivers down Ashra's spine in its false friendliness. Although Ashra wasn't so worried about Amethyst's games anymore, she still had to guard herself, because Amethyst wasn't done with her.

  Amethyst shifted from Fiedra's arm to Lord Holrood, a man Ashra didn't know, but one who obviously thought well of himself. Ashra would even go so far as to call him a dandy. The intimacy on display in their stance suggested they knew each other well, were probably even lovers.

  Ashra’s attention drew to the entrance as Lorcan appeared, dressed darkly as he preferred, his hair tied back. His face was stoic, as if uninterested and slightly bored. Amethyst let slip her lover's arm and took a step away. If she was trying to hide her activities from her husband, she wasn't doing a terribly good job. Surely she didn't think Lorcan was unaware of what she did.

  It was none of Ashra's affair, but again she felt sorry for Lorcan, being caught in such a marriage. Then again, it was one he'd engineered for power and land. Should one feel sorry for the choices people consciously made? Had she the right to look down on him for it? It may come one day that she would have to make an impossible decision and even have to marry someone for survival. She hoped not, and her aim would be to avoid that fate.