Page 159 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
Bristol thought about all the demands and painful words that had passed yesterday—hers, Tyghan’s, and her father’s. They made Reuben’s words seem like a veritable love letter. It was chilling how one day and a little perspective could change everything.
Kasta paced in front of them, an angry beat in her footsteps. She was an enigma to Bristol. Kind but vengeful, disciplined but—softhearted? Was that why she had walked away when her father pleaded with her to ignore her discovery? She seemed like the last knight who would do such a thing. Clearly, Tyghan didn’t know what she had done. Bristol guessed Kasta regretted her decision now and the secrecy of it ate at her. This morning she was all business, but business with a sharp edge. Was she still seething about Bristol’s demands? She refused to back down from those. Cully, Sloan, and a commander from the Badbe Garrison lined up behind Kasta, all of them standing with their hands behind their backs, like they were in some kind of grim procession.
“We leave tomorrow at dawn,” Kasta said. “It’s likely our last opportunity to rescue Cael before the ceremony. The rescue party will be small for the best chance of remaining undetected. Only Rose and Hollis will join the officers on the mission, while the rest of you will stay behind and aid Commander Sloan in protecting the palace. Olivia will also join us in case Cael requires special care. We don’t know how weak or injured he might be.”
Bristol eased forward. “I thought I was supposed to go along too, to pinpoint the precise location of the portal for the—”
“The plan has changed.”
“But—”
Kasta stepped forward briskly, almost pouncing on Bristol. “There are no buts, Keats. Do you understand? None! You will keep your fucking mouth shut. Unless someone has elevated you to the position of officer? Has that happened?”
Kasta’s reaction was beyond the pale. Bristol stepped back and shook her head, not wishing to get into another confrontation—but something wasn’t right. This wasn’t just about Bristol’s demands. She saw the confusion in Julia’s eyes, too. First Madame Chastain was absent that morning from what appeared to be a crucial test by the team of sorcerers, and now Tyghan was absent from this final briefing before the rescue? He always led briefings. His last words to her were that he would see her in the morning.
“Rose and Hollis, come with me. The rest of you can go with Commander Sloan.”
The recruits stepped forward, slightly dazed at the speed of events. Bristol paused. “And Tyghan? Where is he today? Why isn’t he here?”
“King Trénallis is tending to other important matters.”
“What’s more important than this?” Bristol asked.
“The king’s affairs are none of your business. Now follow orders.”
“Keats, this way,” Sloan called.
Important matters.Like meeting her demands? Bristol reluctantly followed Sloan.
The day passed dismally slowly. With the clock ticking, it seemed imperative that they be doing something more vital than reviewing key defense stations around the palace that any knight from the garrison could handle. Tyghan’s absence became more noticeable as the day wore on. Was he mired in a contentious council meeting?Eris is working on your demands, even if it means more knights might die. Which knights?she wondered. She glanced at Avery and Sashka walking beside her. Last night she didn’t care if there were costs. Tyghan and the others had created this nightmare, not her, and she wanted them to suffer for it. She’d backed them into a corner and counted it as a victory. But now she kept wondering,Which knights?And how would they die?
It was late afternoon when Sloan finally dismissed the recruits for the day. Bristol went straight to Lir Rotunda to speak directly with Tyghan about going along on the mission to rescue Cael—but the rotunda was deserted. She circled the table, and her stomach fluttered. Ashes from the day before still littered its surface. She hadn’t meant to throw the fireball, but remembered the strange release she felt and then the horror of what she had done. Chairs were still in the same disarray as when she left yesterday, as if no one had been in there since.
But if Tyghan hadn’t been at the rotunda all day, where was he? Why hadn’t the council met? No one had been there to address her demands? They were lying to her again. She didn’t think she had any more adrenaline left inside her to get angry, but she felt needles pulse through her skin at the thought of more lies. She headed for Tyghan’s room. He had to be somewhere.
As she walked down the hall toward his suite, two servants emerged from his room. They carried trays piled high with dishes of half-eaten food. The hob and a pixie recognized her from her many late-night rendezvous with Tyghan.
“The king is not taking visitors,” the hob said as she passed him.
But it appeared he definitely was. All that food wasn’t for him. Something pinched inside her. Who was he entertaining?
She continued toward his door, but then hesitated, afraid to knock, afraid of who might answer, when she shouldn’t care at all. She didn’t care.Important matters?Like hell. She knocked, loud and hard. Muffled voices hummed inside—a female voice.
The door opened a crack. It was a beautiful spriggan, her tawny leaves glimmering in the candlelight. “Go away. The king is occupied,” she said, then closed the door before Bristol could respond.
Occupied? Withwhat? She knocked again. There was no answer, and the door wouldn’t give. A blaze lit inside her, but instead of pounding again, she stepped aside and waited. She didn’t have to wait long. The door opened, and another servant stepped out, this time with a basket of laundry. Bristol caught the door before it could close and motioned for the surprised hob to move on.
When she stepped into the foyer, low conversations rumbled from the next room.Madame Chastain.She was asking a servant to bring supplies. What was going on? It didn’t sound like a council meeting. She heard Quin and Melizan talking softly, but still no Tyghan. As she listened for other voices, she glanced up at the elaborate mirror that was the focal point of the foyer—but there was an oddness about it. The snake was in a different position than she remembered, his head now at the top of the frame, and there was a large bulge sagging in the middle of his belly she was certain hadn’t been there before, as if the carved wooden animal had eaten something. She reached out to touch it, but then heard a loud slam and Eris shouting.
“I told him! I warned him what could happen! I warned him a hundred times!”
Who?Bristol wondered, and why were they all gathered here?
She stepped out of the foyer, revealing her presence. Quin and Melizan were sprawled on one of the long sofas, and Cully slouched in a chair, his eyes half-closed. Eris paced the room, and the High Witch glowered as she rummaged through her bag. They all looked tired. The spriggan who had answered the door spotted Bristol and rushed out of the suite, clutching an amulet hanging from her neck.
“Where’s Tyghan?” Bristol asked.
Madame Chastain snapped her bag shut. “This is not your—”
