Mage Slave Page 44


As his eyes adjusted, he gradually saw the figure in the chair more clearly. A woman, also in dark robes. No, a black dress. A bow crusted with jewels leaned against the chair’s back.

Evana.

“Well, well,” she said. “We meet again.”

 

Miara tried to hide her gasp as she realized the woman in the tent knew Aven. It was not just her greeting but also his face. The look there was strange indeed.

You know her? You know a Devoted Knight?

It’s… complicated. That was the clearest response she could pull from the swirling vortex of his thoughts.

“I trust my mother’s provisions helped on your unplanned journey, Princess,” he said in a voice smooth as silk. A prince’s voice—a king’s. Not the one he typically used with her. It gave her a strange thrill.

“Yes, the horses dined well, thank you. I’m no fool.”

“But the horses are still in good health, I’ll wager. So perhaps you are.” Again, Miara caught her breath. That was quick to insults.

“And to think I didn’t kill you the moment I learned of your magic,” she said. “And disrespect is how you repay me?”

“You would have done it, if not for your code. You said so yourself. Does it also permit deceit? I’d wager it does.”

She glared at him.

“What does your code say now? Your elders?”

Her chin jutted out, indignant. “I travel to Kavanar on a different mission. But I eagerly await their reply.”

He grinned, looking amused. What in the world was going on? “Is that so?”

She glowered at him. “I may just have to make an exception this time. In your case, any repercussions may be worth it.” She turned now to Miara. “Now let’s see. What is this pretty thing traveling with you? Did your parents think it best you take a turn out of the public eye for a bit after all the turmoil? My only regret is that I didn’t stay long enough to see what the Takarans had to say to you after I told them.”

“They didn’t say much, so it was good you didn’t put yourself out by waiting for it. And what are you doing in these parts? I thought you’d be headed to your order to write my death warrant yourself.”

“I have other allies to the west I had hoped might assist me in your demise. But perhaps I may not need them now.”

What had happened? The knight stood and strode to Miara, inspecting her. Then she turned to face Aven. He said nothing, his face sober now. Miara could see the knight’s hand moving slowly toward the belt of her dress—did Aven see it? Miara wasn’t likely to be able to dodge well at this range in the tiny tent, with half her body still tingling back to life and all of it aching. The resistance from the stones around their necks pressed at her from all sides. How much harder would it be to work magic in their presence? Was it even worth attempting?

“I said who is she?” the knight said more insistently.

“Just a friend I met on the road,” Aven replied. He was a bad liar. She regretted not giving him a story that would work in this situation. What could he say, even if he wanted to say the truth?

“You may be a diplomat, but clearly deceit is not one of your fortes. You should really avoid it. Did you save all your skill for hiding your magic? Or perhaps if you were truly a talented liar, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. But no matter. Once my order sends me their decision, you won’t have much more time to lie to people anyway. Now. Back to the nature of your companion.”

The nature of the situation hit Miara. The knight had discovered he was a mage but also knew he was a prince. Their code must make exceptions in that case, for royalty or important political figures, but it still put Aven in a very bad situation.

“She’s a cousin,” he said, “that I decided to visit for a few days.”

The woman let out a bark of laughter. “Which would conveniently protect her from me slicing her throat. Please. Try again, with the truth this time. I thought you promised to be nothing but frank with me.”

“It is a promise I strive to keep to this day, Princess.”

“Well, then? Quit stalling.”

“She kidnapped me, and I don’t know where she’s taking me.”

Now, the knight laughed outright, but the laughter faded to pure irritation. “A girl like this kidnapped a warrior like you? You’re just trying to make me angry now.”

Aven hesitated. Miara struggled to hide the laughter in her eyes, and she thought she could see him doing it, too. What could he possibly tell this woman that would appease her when the truth was so outrageous? He paused for a long time. Was he thinking, or was it just for dramatic effect?

“My mistress,” he said, voice so soft it was almost lost in the wind.

Miara gasped involuntarily but didn’t regret it. It gave a ring of truth to his words.

“Your mistress?” The anger in the knight’s words made Miara wonder if the choice had been a mistake. What right did she have to be angry? “You had a mistress—”

Had they been involved? It seemed in line with Aven’s luck that he might have fallen for one such as this, but the knight’s anger only seemed to grow as he struggled to figure out what to say.

“Perhaps you are better at deceit than I’m giving you credit for because it doesn’t seem there’s an area you haven’t lied about.” She turned to the Devoted who’d escorted them in. “Go. She’s a mage. That’s all we need. Concubines are not protected. Are you ready?”

One of the dark hoods nodded.

“Burn her.”

“Evana—” Aven started.

“My lady, there is no need, we can simply—” started the hooded knight.

Evana turned and slapped Aven across the face. Then she turned to the man who had questioned her.

“Do it, or I shall burn you with her.”

And just like that, they were dragging her out of the tent and toward the fire.

 

Aven struggled to get a count of them, desperate for some plan of action to leap into his mind. The black robes and hoods made them all blend together. There could have been twenty—or thirty, he wasn’t sure. Either way, it was too many. He scrambled for some kind of plan, anything. He drew a blank.

“It needs to be built up more, milady. The fire is too small as of yet,” said the hooded knight who’d taken Mara by the arm. It was a large cooking fire, four or five feet across. Did they really know just how large a fire they needed to burn someone? Had they done this before? How many times? By the gods. He had to stop them, but how?

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