Other thoughts swirled in his mind. Would their offspring bear magickal talent? Would he prefer a boy or girl? Which was easier? Or were both equally difficult? Stellan shook his head. I have stared into the mysteries of life and death and yet I cannot answer a simple question.
As he daydreamed, the tendrils of the fire reminded him of Clarysa’s hair. A vision of her face stared back at him, laughing and filling with love. Relief lingered inside him, a reminder his gamble to ask for her hand had been successful. Still, he wondered–what did she see in him? She could have anyone she wanted but had chosen him. Had forgiven him after his appalling behavior. Loved him, unconditionally. The resulting emotion caught him unaware. Stellan blinked hard a number of times as he finished his tea.
Carrying a torch, he ambled through the halls, intending at first to retire but excitement made him restless. Though his breath still fogged the air, the castle seemed warmer somehow, and less sterile. Speaking of which, Clarysa should have her dream castle. Stellan made plans to brew as many potions and powders as possible to sell in the village, maybe even as far as Falcon Heights. There were some exquisite spells he could bottle, for a good price too, if he worked hard enough. Maybe he should even begin tonight. Industrious thoughts flooded his head.
Which was why, perhaps, he had barely noticed someone was following him.
At first he thought a ghost teased him; the south wing was full of them. Stellan slowed his pace and strained his ears. There was definitely a presence. Far too light to be Froll or Patrulha, and much too stealthy for the likes of Gretchen or Ghyslain.
He scanned the darkened hallway before him. Then, in one deft move, he plunged his free hand into the shadows, bringing forth a human form. “Who are you?”
“Rather jumpy tonight, aren’t we?” came the velvety voice of his sister. “You’re getting sloppy in your old age. Or are you being domesticated like some beast brought in from the wilds and forced to sit at his new master’s side? I wonder.” Sada’s green orbs glittered by the torchlight. A dark, luxurious cloak swathed her statuesque form.
Stellan released her, but held the torch between them like a barrier. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, dear brother, I’ve come to congratulate you!” She held up a box wrapped in purple silk and tied with gold threads. “You’re to be married. How delicious!” The cordiality lay only in her words; her eyes stood empty, like a tomb.
He blanched. How did you know? “News travels fast.”
Sada extended the gift, but his fist precluded the acceptance of her offering.
“I don’t want your congratulations. Get out.” He turned on a heel and stormed away.
Sada shared the same long legs; she easily kept pace. “Stellan, please stop and talk with me. This is a momentous occasion.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
She grabbed his arm. “A few words is all I ask.”
Stellan veered off in the direction of the study. He probably shouldn’t have granted her an audience, but if he were able to glean any information about his father’s plans then it might be worth the trouble. When they reached the study, Stellan motioned for Sada to precede him. He shut the door and locked it.
“Make it quick,” he said, standing before the fire. He did not invite her to sit.
“I must admit to tremendous envy,” Sada began. “I thought I could persuade you to return to the Wastes with me, to rule jointly. We’d be so strong together.” The sorceress sighed. “But you have a compassionate heart. You always have, though I fear it could mean your downfall.” She cocked her head. “Clarysa… What a darling little buttercup.”
Stellan clenched his jaw. There was something…unsavory about the sound of her name on Sada’s lips. “Sada, I’m only going to say this once. Take over the Wastes if that’s your desire, but I want no part of it. You’re not welcome here. Not in Vandeborg, not in my kingdom, not in my life.”
“Surely you don’t mean that.”
“Surely I do.” Crossing his arms, he glowered at her.
Sada placed her gift on a nearby table. “My, you’re the epitome of gratitude. I came to wish you great happiness and fortune.”
“Consider it done. Now get out.”
Her eyes flashed with preternatural power. “Not ’til I’ve said my piece.”
Stellan made a fist. “I knew you had other motives.”
“How astute of you.” Sada braced her hands upon the back of a chair. “I’ve come to warn you. Father wants you dead. In fact, he sent me here to carry out his order.”
Stellan tensed. It was no idle threat. He and Sada may have been twins, but in terms of sheer magickal ability she outmatched him tenfold. “That could be true, or it could just be another one of your head games.”
Sada arched a shapely brow. “Believe what you want, but it’s the truth. You’ve been interfering with his plan for too long and he’s had enough. Taking up with Aldebaran was the final straw.”
“So why haven’t you killed me already?”
Her eyes glittered in the firelight. “Because I’m your flesh-and-blood sister. We have a bond–”
“Had.”
Sada frowned. “We have a unique bond, the power of which Father has yet to grasp. I’m not as cold as you think. Ambitious, yes, but where you’re concerned I still have a heart. Therefore, I’ll make you an offer. Reform now and return to the Wastes with me. I’ll persuade Father to grant you a reprieve. Of course, you’d have to renounce this kingdom. And Clarysa.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I haven’t decided yet. There are many factors to consider. Father has his ideas about how to expand our reign. I have mine.”
“In other words, you want me around for as long as I’m useful.”
Sada smiled coldly. “Something
