Page 17 of A Crown of Darkness

A boy pushed his way towards them through the crowd, as finely dressed as any of the rest, wearing a tunic rather than being bare-chested like the Ilanthian men around them. His sash was a dark green and he looked exhausted. But his face was lit up with hero worship. She remembered him, she thought, from the Ilanthian embassy, Hestia’s son.

‘Laurence?’ Finn said in a cool voice. ‘This is not the time.’

‘I know, but please, I need you to intercede. Gaius has tried. He’s still trying. They have my mother captive.’

‘Who do?’

‘The Asterothians. She was left behind with Prince Leander and…please, my lord prince, the king can negotiate for her release along with that of his son’s. She always spoke so highly of you, and you have connections at the court in Pelias. And with the princess here…’

He trailed off, staring at the two of them, so hopeful.

‘Your mother,’ Finn said softly and the words turned into a laugh. Laurence blanched and pulled back a step. Wren watched that hope die and wondered how many times that had happened to him already. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. ‘Your mother meddles far too much in things that don’t concern her. It wasonly a matter of time before she landed herself in trouble. Asteroth will never make peace with Ilanthus. Now, if you please, this is no place for children.’

Finn swept by the devastated boy, dragging Wren behind her.

The Finn she had loved beyond reason was gone. Wren understood that now. This man, this Ilanthian prince, was someone else entirely. Cruel without need, heedless of anyone else. He couldn’t even be kind to a boy seeking his aid.

With that realisation she felt something inside her crack open, leaving only a hollow emptiness, dark and frantic. The anger was there, but so was something far worse. She didn’t know its name, but it felt like despair.

CHAPTER 9

WREN

As they approached, the king looked up from his seat on the raised dais, still cold and austere, his pale eyes raking over Wren’s form. He beckoned her forward, but she couldn’t move. Her feet felt like stone. Beside her, Finn had stiffened and that smug self-assuredness seemed to falter. Anyone would hesitate when faced with Alessander of Ilanthus. Anyone sane, anyway.

Finn took a determined step forward, ready to drag her up the steps to his father’s feet.

‘No,’ said Alessander. ‘Just the girl.’

‘But Father—’ Finn began, clearly annoyed.

‘I may have named you my heir, boy, but that does not make you my equal. Stand down. Wren of Asteroth, come forward,’ the king went on. She almost had to tear herself out of Finn’s grip, but just one look at the man before her said that it wasn’t going to end well if she didn’t do as he said. Her eyes burned as she forced herself to walk towards him. Then she stood still, alone, waiting as he inspected her again.

‘Well?’ he said more softly.

‘Oh yes,’ said General Gaius. ‘That’s her.’ He stood at the king’s side, resplendent in dress uniform. ‘Will you trade her?’

‘This treasure?’ the king replied. His smile was unbearably cruel. She could see Leander in him, with his white hair and icy eyes, and a shadow of this new Finn as well, but neither of his sons could ever have made her feel quite so alone and lost. She was an object, a thing, not a person at all. Atreasure… ‘What could they offer in return of a fraction of the value?’

‘My lord king, your son and Lady Hestia are still captive in Pelias. We can negotiate for their return. The regent, Lady Ylena, will be reasonable?—’

Alessander laughed. ‘You have met Ylena, Gaius. Are you so very sure about that?’ Then his humour died away and he fixed his attention on Wren again. She wished the ground would swallow her up, or that she still had the ability to draw the shadows around herself and hide. ‘You, girl, are you content with the prince? What progress has been made?’

He was waiting for an answer. All Wren could do was stare at him.

‘Speak,’ he barked.

‘I-I don’t know what you want me to say.’ The words were out before she considered them.

‘The truth, lady. They told me you loved him, that it was the scandal of Pelias. Well?’

‘I…I loved him. But…’

‘But what?’

‘He has changed.’

The king smiled a thin and nasty smile. ‘Has he indeed?’

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