Page 48 of Her Cruel Redemption

‘He’s concerned about how trustworthy you are. I told him I have the utmost faith in your loyalty, but he’s worried about how having the wife of our enemy playing a part in political negotiations will look.’

‘So what does he want me to do about it? I can’t turn back time and undo what’s already done.’ If only.

‘No, but you could have your marriage annulled.’

I blinked at her, frowning. Surely no one was going to believe it went unconsummated. Not with my reputation.

‘He believes his Sanctum would be willing to consider an annulment on grounds of enchantment,’ she continued.

I chewed on this. How would Draven react if I annulled our marriage? Would he be relieved, pleased to no longer be married to me? It might make his political situation shaky if Ashreign's system of governance even somewhat resembled what it once was, but I doubted anyone was concerned with the legitimacy of his claim to the crown now that he’d torn it all apart. He could be angry, though. Angry I’d been able to shake myself free of him when he so liked having me under his thumb.

‘Isn’t an annulment something you’d want?’ Gwin ventured, interrupting my silent contemplation.

‘Of course,’ I said immediately, though that question hadn’t even occurred to me yet.Wantan annulment? Of course I wanted an annulment. Of course I did.

‘Then you’ll do it?’

With a weight sinking through my stomach that made absolutely no sense, I agreed. ‘I’ll do it.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

Every room here seemed to have a view of the ocean, set with wide windows to facilitate it, and the damage caused by the constant assault of the salty wind was evident in the crumbling stone, the damp clinging to the wallpaper, the crystals of white dusting the curtains. It must cost them a fortune in maintenance to keep the place standing. Vic Gedelli hadn’t mentioned that as he played host, pointing out and naming architectural features and types of clouds and explaining principles of ship building to Gwinellyn as we sat at a table in one of the many tea rooms Bright Keep boasted, waiting on the arrival of Oceatold’s Grand Paptich, who wanted to meet with us before he decided whether or not to annul my marriage. Vic kept trying to pull me into the conversation, drawing on an entire gamut of flirtation and charm in the attempt, but my focus continually returned to the tumultuous grey ocean with a heavy, sinking sensation in my chest.

The Grand Paptich, when he finally arrived, was a short, bulky man, mostly bald, his face weathered with age. His smile, though, was surprisingly warm. Carrick, his name was. And just as I had decided I didn’t immediately despise him, the door opened and the man who’d been at the meeting in the Astronomy Tower stepped into the room. Tall, silver-haired, and cold, black eyes.Lidello.Those eyes fixed on me as he entered, and again he treated me to that unsettling smile. He was wearing what must have been druthi robes, though they were grey with white stripes around the hem rather than old-blood red as Brimordian druthi wore. Carrick stood to greet him like an old friend, warmly clasping his hand.

‘Come, come, introductions,’ Carrick said, bustling the taller man over. ‘This is Igor Lidello, our Arch Magister, or the head of the druthi Guild here in Oceatold. I’m sure you’ll recognise Princess Gwinellyn, Igor, and this is—’

‘—Draven’s wife,’ Lidello finished for him, that smile widening. ‘But not, perhaps, for much longer. I’ve been very eager to meet you.’

My skin crawled. I hadn’t heard anyone in Oceatold use Draven’s first name. They’d referred to him asthe usurper, orthe Shadow King, or simplySoveraux.Who was this man that seemed tocaresshis name as he spoke it? I felt deeply uneasy as Carrick ushered Lidello into a seat and rang for more tea. The whole time, those dark eyes kept drifting back to me with keen interest, like an academic surveying a rare and valuable artefact. I wanted to call him out on the scrutiny, but even more than that, I wanted to know what his interest in me was. I had the distinct sense that I wasn’t going to like the reason behind it.

‘Well, as I’m sure you know, I’m going to be conducting the annulment of your marriage,’ Carrick began, dragging my attention back to him. ‘I’ve asked Igor here to help me understand the legitimacy of your claim to enchantment.’

‘Thelegitimacy?’I repeated, hackles rising. Gwinellyn shot me a look and I took a breath, unclenching my hands. It was hard to stay calm when this was the subject matter. Aether’s teeth, I’d agreed to the annulment because the blasted king of Oceatold had asked it of me. Why did I now have to prove I was entitled to it? ‘And how exactly will you be determining that?’ I asked in a more even voice, shooting the question at the druthi.

‘Don’t look so tense, Rhiandra,’ Vic laughed, leaning back in his chair with a casual arm laid across the backrest. ‘This isn’t a test. The Magister is just here as our expert. He can tell us whether or not magic can achieve what you’ve claimed.’

‘I’ve already told you what happened,’ I said, trying to keep a cool head. ‘Surely you could have asked that question without this.’ I flicked my hand at the tea table. ‘I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.’

Lidello leaned forwards and plucked an iced biscuit from a plate between us with fingers that were long and pale. ‘I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to hear it for myself.’ He cocked his head as he settled back into his chair. ‘So, tell me, what did my most promising project do to you, Mrs Soveraux?’

The words hung in the air between the threads of Gwinellyn’s gasp. My chest tightened, and Lidello’s smirk widened, as though he enjoyed the reaction.

‘Yourwhat?’ I asked, my voice low and cold.

‘Well, perhaps project is the wrong word,’ Lidello said. He took a slow bite of the biscuit, his dark eyes never leaving mine. ‘More of a subject. Did your Grand Weaver never tell you of the research we conducted together? He’s always been so driven, Dovegni, and your Sanctum has strangled his innovation with their meddling. He had to come here to push the boundaries of magic.’

‘Let’s stick to the essentials, Igor,’ Carrick said with a nervous laugh. ‘We don’t need the whole—’

‘No,’ I cut in, leaning forwards now, my heart lurching, gaze honed on the druthi. ‘What sort of research?’

A sort of glee entered his eyes. An eagerness to answer the question. ‘Our current application of magic relies on blood harvest, which is a wasteful practice that kills the fall spawn being harvested long before their magical potential is fully utilised.’

Beside me, I felt Gwinellyn stiffening, her body seizing up with tension, and I knew she was thinking of her friends just down the road. Under the table, I found her hand. She squeezed it.

‘My research proposes to instead go right to the source. To sever magic from the creatures and bestow it on the human wielder. I experimented with different methods for achieving it and found pushing a subject to extremes of endurance to be the most promising, though I still haven’t quite achieved the outcome I wanted,’ he continued, seeming unaware—or uncaring—of how half of his audience were icing over with hostility. ‘Imagine it. There’d no longer be this reliance on weaving and objects, we could simply wield with the flick of a wrist.’ He demonstrated the action, then seemed to remember where he was. The gleam left his eyes and he settled back into his chair. ‘But, to stay on topic, Draven was an integral component of my research in its early days. One might even say he was the inspiration behind it. A half human boy from Yaakandale, of all places, with magic in his blood. Exceptional. And soresilient…’

Nausea was pooling in my stomach. But my mind was racing, picking up the pieces of what he’d said and filling in the gaps.Pushing the subject to the extremes of endurance. Oh, Madeia. In jagged bursts of memory, I saw my fingers tracing over skin riddled with scars and old wounds. So many he wouldn’t speak of.

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