Ch. 39: What They Asked For and Ch. 40: Until Morning

Chapter 39: What They Asked For

Allandra read the signature first.

Uneven letters beneath a demand written in a steadier hand. An unfinished stroke below the name.

She looked at that small interruption longer than she looked at the threat.

Then she read the letter again.

Serali stood across the desk with Lia beside her. Mara remained nearer the door.

The bond was quiet in a way Allandra distrusted.

Allandra set the letter down. “We will need the delivery account. Where the courier came, what he said, anything he carried. You are not being asked to defend receiving correspondence.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Mara replied.

Allandra sent for Daravan, Harrek and Verya.

They moved to the smaller council room, where the city map remained spread beneath weights.

Daravan read the letter without speaking. Harrek stood beside him. Verya examined the signature after both had finished.

Hagen arrived while Mara gave her account. Yvander followed carrying the property notes he had been comparing with Merrow.

“A paid courier,” Harrek said when she finished. “We find him and establish who paid him. The handoff matters more than the family story.”

Daravan nodded. “Palace staff can record the delivery separately. No suggestion that knowing an attendant’s name establishes a source inside.”

Mara looked up.

“It establishes knowledge,” he continued. “We need to find how they obtained it.”

Allandra watched Serali’s shoulders ease slightly.

“All inquiries through the duty officers,” she said. “No household accusations based on this letter.”

Harrek called a clerk to take Mara’s statement.

Lia kept the vial in its separate container.

“Fresh blood,” she said. “We have not examined it yet.”

Daravan looked at the container, then the signature. “Her hand.”

“Consistent with it,” Verya said.

He nodded once.

Allandra knew how much effort that small correction required.

She wanted the handwriting to prove Marielle was alive now. Safe enough to write. Able to wait while they turned a map into a plan.

It proved none of those things completely, but it was still more than they had possessed an hour ago.

“Eight bells tomorrow,” Harrek said. “Old water gate. Lower east canal.”

He marked the location.

Allandra looked at the approaches instead of imagining Serali standing in the center of them.

“What does the demand promise?” Verya asked.

“Nothing,” Serali said.

Everyone looked at her.

“It says what they will do if I do not attend. It does not say they will release Marielle if I do.”

Lia remained still beside her.

Allandra felt something open beneath the fear in the bond.

Serali understood the difference.

Understanding had not made it hurt less.

“Then we do not treat attendance as an exchange,” Allandra said. “We treat it as contact they have chosen to arrange.”

Daravan looked toward Harrek. “They may keep Lady Marielle elsewhere.”

“Likely,” Harrek said. “Bringing her introduces the person we want into the place they expect us to watch.”

“So we continue the property search,” Allandra said.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Verya opened a second folded sheet. “We also have the Caerns’ reply.”

Allandra turned toward her. “They received the notice?”

“Yes. The reply came by the authorized courier.” Verya glanced down. “Lord Caern offers immediate access to the family’s available funds for ransom. Additional holdings can be made available if necessary.”

Yvander took off his spectacles. “They should not begin selling anything.”

“That is not yet what he says he has done,” Verya replied.

Serali looked at the blood container. “They did not ask for money.”

“The Caerns do not know that yet,” Allandra said.

Verya nodded. “They have left for Myrae. Lady Caern thanks the Crown for promising updates and says she would prefer to receive them while traveling toward her daughter.”

For a moment, Hagen’s expression changed.

Allandra pictured two people leaving their home with no assurance that the journey would end anywhere they could bear.

Marielle had been theirs long before she became indispensable to a palace.

“Arrange for the gates to expect them,” she said. “They receive an escort here when they arrive. Prepare rooms.”

Daravan inclined his head.

Verya’s fingers tightened on the message. “Lady Caern asks whether Marielle has been injured.”

The question settled over the table.

Allandra looked at Lia.

“Her arm was injured before she was taken,” Lia said. “We cannot establish her present condition or the extent of any new injuries from what we have.”

Verya looked down again.

Her next breath took a little longer. “She asks whether Marielle was frightened.”

No one answered immediately.

Allandra saw Verya’s pen resting beside the letter. Untouched for once.

A question no useful record could make harmless.

“We tell them what the witnesses saw,” Allandra said. “That she was alive, resisting, and making herself heard. We do not pretend to know what she felt.”

Verya nodded.

Picked up the pen.

“And the demand,” Allandra continued. “Send another message by magical courier. Explain that no money has been requested. Ask them not to liquidate assets or make independent approaches. Their offer is received; the search continues.”

Serali laid her hands flat on the table.

“They would give everything,” she said.

Allandra looked at her.

“Everything they have. And it is not what these people want.”

Verya raised her eyes. “Wanting something does not entitle them to receive it.”

Serali gave a short, unamused breath. “An excellent legal principle.”

“It remains one.”

Allandra felt the bond pull painfully toward her.

The answer Serali could offer those parents seemed terribly simple to her.

Allandra knew because the same false simplicity had reached her from the other side: keep Serali safe, refuse the meeting, bear whatever followed.

Neither choice could be made honest by pretending it concerned only one woman.

“We will not choose whom to abandon from a list written by the people holding Marielle,” she said.

Daravan moved nearer the map. “Then we use the meeting.”

Harrek described the gate’s condition.

The main arch was partly blocked. A maintenance recess remained accessible. Three lanes approached from the city. The canal passed below; old service accesses required checking.

“We inspect tonight,” he said. “Quietly. Establish sightlines and the routes someone could use to withdraw.”

“Without concentrating everyone there,” Daravan added. “The search teams remain working.”

“Agreed,” Allandra said.

Harrek marked positions beyond the immediate approach. “Plainclothes Watch. No visible cordon. Observation on the lanes and canal. We need to see who comes before deciding what the contact is.”

“And if no one comes?” Hagen asked.

“We record who watches,” Harrek said.

Allandra looked at the marked recess. “Lady Serali’s part?”

The room became quieter.

Serali answered before Daravan could. “They have asked for me. If they see someone else, they may not approach.”

“Yes,” Daravan said. “Your presence may draw the contact. It also creates the opportunity they want.”

Allandra felt the urge to end the discussion there.

She made herself ask the next question. “What can we control?”

“The approach. The distance she moves beyond cover. Who remains close enough to intervene,” Daravan said. “Not every spell they may have prepared.”

Serali studied the map. “I can approach the outer court. I do not have to enter the gate.”

Daravan indicated a position beside the route. “I remain close. The Watch covers withdrawal and anyone approaching from elsewhere.”

“They said alone,” Serali said.

“They do not get that,” Allandra replied.

The words were too sharp. She let a breath pass before continuing.

“You may appear alone. You will have support.”

Serali met her eyes.

Allandra could feel the argument waiting.

Then Serali looked back at the letter.

“No entering the arch,” Daravan said. “No descending to the water. If they change the location, we do not follow on their instruction.”

“If they show us Marielle?”

The question hurt everyone differently.

Allandra watched Daravan answer.

“We assess what they actually show us. You do not advance alone because someone calls her name.”

The chapter is available on the NovelPhoenix site where the author publishes it; this page took the text without consent.

Serali’s jaw tightened. “I cannot promise not to react.”

“I am asking you to react with us,” he said.

Lia nodded. “And until then, we examine the new blood. There may be more to learn before morning.”

Serali looked at her, at the blood, then at Allandra.

“I agree to the approach,” she said. “With support. I stop before entering the gate.”

Allandra let herself breathe.

“Preparations proceed on that basis,” she said. “We review the positions after reconnaissance. If the conditions cannot support the plan, we change it.”

Harrek gathered the map notes.

Daravan asked for the messenger who would carry his instructions to the duty office.

Verya folded the Caerns’ reply beside the new message she had begun.

Two letters.

One demanding a woman’s surrender.

One offering everything two people could think to give.

Allandra remained beside the table as the work resumed.

Across it, Serali touched the edge of Marielle’s signature with one fingertip.

The bond carried no relief.

Only fear, and the effort of keeping the agreement they had just made.

Allandra answered that effort with her own.

By the time Allandra reached Everly’s rooms, Lessa had put away the supper tray.

Everly sat on the bed with her fox in her lap. She looked at Allandra’s face before deciding whether to smile.

“Mama. Where is Serali?”

“With Lia. They are working.”

“Bad serious work?”

Allandra sat beside her. “Yes.”

Everly rubbed one of the fox’s ears between her fingers. “Is it about Lady Marielle?”

“What have you heard?”

“Pella was talking to Lessa. She said Lady Marielle’s name, but then she stopped because I came in.” Everly glanced toward her nurse. “And Lessa said everyone was doing their best.”

Lessa met Allandra’s eyes.

“What happened to her?” Everly asked.

Allandra had hoped to have better news before this conversation. Something she could tell her daughter about where Marielle was, or when she would be home.

“Some people took Lady Marielle away from a shop this morning. They are keeping her somewhere, and we are trying to find her.”

Everly’s fingers stopped moving. “They will not let her come home?”

“No, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“We believe they are some of the people who attacked us at First Sun.”

“The ones who want Serali?”

“Yes.”

“The man Lady Marielle threw the gear at?”

Allandra blinked. “You remember that?”

“She told Uncle Hagen the gear was properly weighted.”

“Yes,” Allandra said. “We believe that man is involved.”

“Is Lady Marielle hurt?”

“Her arm was hurting when they took her. We do not know how she is feeling now.”

Everly looked down at her fox. “Did Lady Marielle do something?”

“Nothing wrong.” Allandra waited until Everly looked at her again. “Neither did Serali. The people who took her are responsible for this.”

“But Lady Marielle wants to come home.”

“Yes. She does.”

Everly’s mouth trembled. “Then they should let her.”

Allandra put an arm around her. “Yes.”

“That is mean.”

“It is.”

Everly leaned against her. “Very mean.”

Allandra gathered her close. “Captain Daravan and Commander Harrek are looking for her. Serali and Lia are helping. Verya and Master Yvander. Uncle Hagen. Everyone.”

Everly cried quietly. That was somehow worse.

After a moment she said, muffled against Allandra’s gown, “She has known me since I was a baby.”

“I know.”

“She made me the director and fixed the fountain fish.”

“Yes.”

“And she said my block tower needed buttresses.” Everly sniffed. “And she does not like carrots in soup.”

“She doesn’t?”

“No, but she does like apple pie.”

Allandra paused. “Yes.”

Everly pulled away abruptly. “Lessa.”

Lessa straightened as though summoned before the throne. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Tell the kitchen to make apple pies.”

Lessa glanced at Allandra.

Everly frowned. “A hundred.”

“A hundred?”

“For when Lady Marielle comes back.” Her voice wobbled, but she continued. “She will be hungry because the bad people probably do not make good dinner.”

Allandra brushed a tear from her cheek.

“Let us start with ten,” Allandra said.

Everly gasped. “Mama. I said a hundred.”

“Ten to start,” Lessa said carefully. “Then we can make more when Lady Marielle is ready for them. Fresh ones.”

Everly considered that. “A hundred altogether.”

Allandra looked at her.

Everly had Finnian’s stubborn chin. That felt unfair tonight.

“We can start with ten,” she said. “You may keep count.”

Lessa curtsied with extraordinary solemnity. “I will speak to the kitchens. The first ten will be ready when Lady Marielle comes home.”

“And tell them apple.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Not carrot.”

“I will be very clear.”

Everly wiped her cheeks with both hands. “Will they find her?”

The question was worse than any council question.

A child asking her mother whether the world would return someone she loved.

“They are going to do everything they can,” Allandra said.

Everly frowned. “That is not what I asked.”

Of course it was not.

Allandra looked back at her daughter. “I believe they will.”

Everly studied her face, then leaned against her again. “Captain Daravan should get a pie too.”

“Should he?”

“Uncle Hagen says worrying is his job.”

“He does a great deal of it.”

“Then he needs pie.”

“And Serali can have two because the bad people keep being mean to her.”

“That seems fair.”

“And Lia gets one if she uses polite words.”

Allandra kissed the top of Everly’s head. “We will see what can be arranged.”

She held her while Lessa fetched a handkerchief, then stayed until Everly was ready to lie down.

At the bedside, her daughter caught her hand. “Tell me when you know.”

“I will.”

That promise she could make.

Chapter 40: Until Morning

Vaelis returned without the letter.

Marielle watched her shut the cellar door.

“Delivered?” the Commander asked.

“Paid runner. No return contact.”

He nodded.

Mara might have it now. Or someone at the palace might be carrying it through a corridor, thinking it was ordinary correspondence.

Marielle tried to picture the blood vial without picturing Serali opening the packet.

“You look disappointed,” Vaelis said.

“You came back.”

The woman’s mouth curved.

Marielle regretted the answer when Vaelis crossed the room. Her shoulders tightened. She pressed herself against the beam before she could stop.

Vaelis noticed. “There. You can learn.”

She walked past without touching her.

Marielle waited until the woman reached the table before taking another breath.

The Commander spoke quietly to her. Tairn checked the door. Edrin examined the transport circle.

Marielle returned to the bolt near the bottom of the beam.

Square head. Iron. A little corrosion where it entered the bracket, but no visible movement in the joint. She would need something to turn it, leverage enough to—

She had already done this.

Twice.

At the first house, there had been a window, packing timber, a gap she could work wider. Here the beam was bolted into stone. Her wrists were bound together in front of her, with a separate tether passing around the support behind her waist. Her ankles were tied too.

She could shift her feet a little. She could not reach them.

Tairn brought food in a shallow bowl.

Bread, softened in broth. Nothing that needed cutting. No spoon.

“Eat,” he said.

He released the tether, leaving her wrists bound, and set the bowl within reach.

Marielle tried to lift it. Pain ran up her left arm before the bowl cleared the floor.

She put it down.

Tairn watched.

“I have identified the difficulty,” she said.

He crouched and held the bowl while she took a piece of bread in her right hand.

The bread tasted of salt and something boiled too long. Opening her mouth pulled at the split beside it. She managed another piece, then stopped while her stomach decided whether to accept either.

Across the room, Edrin looked up. “How much?”

“Some,” Tairn said.

“More water afterward.”

“Mistress Lia generally explains why she wants things,” Marielle said.

Edrin returned to his work. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”

“An illuminating distinction between you.”

Tairn waited while she ate another piece. When she could manage no more, he took the bowl and held a cup to her mouth.

She drank too quickly. Water escaped at the corner of her lips, and she could not wipe it away without bringing both hands up.

Tairn used a cloth.

She looked at the bolt until he finished.

Marielle had been waiting for an opportunity to ask without everyone listening.

There did not appear to be one coming.

“Tairn.”

He looked up.

“I need to relieve myself.”

He fetched a chamber pot from beside the covered well.

Of course there was one. They had considered this. She had still spent an unreasonable amount of time wondering whether she would be permitted to ask.

He put it near the wall, checked the floor around it, then crouched to loosen her restraints.

“Your right hand stays where I can see it.”

“I will require it.”

His fingers paused at the knot. “For your clothes.”

“Yes.”

He freed her wrists, then her ankles. When she tried to stand, her legs failed to straighten properly. He caught her above the elbow on her uninjured side.

Marielle waited for the prickling in her feet to subside before pulling away.

The pot stood a few steps from the beam. There was nothing beside it except bare stone.

“Can I have some privacy?” she asked quietly.

Her relief was immense when Tairn collected a blanket and held it between her and the room.

She looked past its edge. Edrin and the Commander remained at the table. Vaelis had turned toward them.

“Higher.”

Tairn raised it until his face was just visible above the top.

“And farther away.”

“No.”

“Turn your head, then.”

“You have already demonstrated what you do when no one is watching.”

Marielle gripped her skirt with her right hand. “I cannot do this with you looking at me.”

“Would you prefer Vaelis?”

Her eyes went to the woman at the table. Vaelis was still watching.

“No.” The answer came quickly. Marielle lowered her voice. “Please.”

Tairn studied her for a moment. “If you try anything, you will lose what little privacy you have. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He turned his head.

Marielle waited until she was certain, then managed with her right hand, stopping once because her left arm would not tolerate the movement. She kept glancing up at him.

He did not look back.

When she told him she was finished, he brought water and a cloth, then helped her back to the beam.

He bound her ankles again. Secured her wrists. Drew the tether short enough that her hands rested in her lap.

She had watched him undo and redo every knot.

She had made no attempt to get away.

Marielle looked toward the door, searching for something she might have done while her hands were free. Tairn had remained within reach throughout. The Commander had watched from the table.

There had been no useful opportunity.

She wished she could be certain that was why she had done nothing.

Someone trimmed the wick. Another lamp came through the door. Footsteps above became fewer and farther apart.

Evening, probably.

Tomorrow at eight bells meant something precise to the people who had written the demand. Marielle would have to wait until someone else decided morning had arrived.

Tairn checked her bindings. At her left wrist, the rope pressed her skin against the knot.

“Not much farther,” she said. “If you are attempting to preserve circulation.”

He eased it another fraction, then tested whether she could pull free.

“You can sleep.”

Marielle tried lowering herself onto one hip. The tether tightened before her shoulder came near the floor, pulling her injured arm backward.

She sat up quickly.

Tairn fetched a folded cloth and placed it between the beam and the back of her head.

“I cannot sleep sitting up.”

“That is how you are staying.”

He returned to his chair.

Marielle rested against the cloth. For a moment, she no longer had to hold the weight of her own head.

Without that effort to occupy her, she heard the Commander lowering his voice.

She looked up.

He was speaking to Vaelis in Naeric. Nothing in either face told her what they were discussing. Vaelis glanced toward her, and Marielle tried to remember whether she had said anything since the blanket.

No. Nothing.

The Commander reached inside his coat.

Marielle held still.

He took out a folded paper.

She watched him open it. Read it. Turn it toward Vaelis.

Only then did she realize how hard she had been pressing her hands together.

She slept in pieces.

Once she woke because her arm pulled. Edrin was beside her, fingers against the dressing. Tairn held her bound hands away from it.

“Do not move,” Edrin said.

She wanted a different instruction. She could not think how to make that worth saying.

He pressed beside the wound.

“Interference?” the Commander asked. “Or the damage?”

“I cannot distinguish them yet,” Edrin said. “The second translation damaged the anchor.”

Marielle listened through the ache.

Interference.

Someone might be looking. Serali might be standing beside Lia, asking questions with her face arranged to suggest questions were a personal affront.

Edrin moved his fingers. Marielle’s breath caught, and she lost the picture.

“Hold still.”

She was trying.

When he finished, her teeth were chattering.

“The blanket,” he told Tairn.

“Will that improve the anchor?” she managed.

“It will keep you warm.”

Tairn draped it over her shoulders, keeping it clear of the exposed sleeve.

Vaelis watched from the table. “You should thank him.”

“For the blanket, or the captivity?”

“You could begin with the blanket.”

“Vaelis,” the Commander said.

She turned back to him.

Marielle worked her right fingers beneath the edge and held it against her chest. She waited for the trembling to stop.

Later, the Commander went through the door with Edrin.

Vaelis lay down at the far side of the cellar, her coat beneath her head.

Tairn remained awake.

Marielle watched him check the lamp, the latch, then her. When he approached, she looked for anything in his hands.

A cloth. A cup.

He crouched. “Your mouth is bleeding again.”

She had been pressing her lips together. She stopped, and the split stung.

Marielle drew away when he reached toward her face.

He paused. “May I?”

“Will you stop if I say no?”

Tairn looked at her, then at the cloth. “I am cleaning the cut.”

“That was not the question.”

“Then do it yourself.”

She could not raise her hands high enough without pulling her injured arm. They both knew it.

Marielle looked at the water, then his face. “Yes.”

He cleaned the dried blood carefully. When the cloth caught against the cut, she flinched.

“Sorry.”

Quietly. Almost automatic.

“You should not apologize.”

His eyes lifted.

“It makes your moral position untidy.”

“I am not interested in your assessment of my moral position.”

“Then you should avoid committing crimes in front of observant women.”

His hand paused.

She waited for him to press harder.

He dipped the cloth in the water and continued.

When he finished, she said, “You can stop helping them.”

“No.”

“You could untie me.”

“I am not doing that.”

He collected the cloth and cup.

Marielle let her head fall back against the padding. Her mouth hurt less. She watched him put the water down somewhere she could not reach.

At some point, she found herself studying the bolt again.

She could calculate the force required to turn it if she knew its diameter and how far the corrosion extended. The head was perhaps—

Her chin dropped.

Pain woke her as her arm shifted against the tether.

She raised her head and tried to recover the calculation.

She had lost it before obtaining a single useful measurement.

Marielle looked away from the beam.

She knew the names of three agents. She knew the Commander was the man from First Sun. She knew the first house had an opening to the alley and a prepared circle below it.

People had heard her.

She repeated the facts slowly. When she reached the end, she began again.

Vaelis rose before Marielle knew it was morning.

Edrin returned with the Commander. A draft followed them, carrying the smell of something cooking above.

“First light,” Vaelis said.

Marielle lifted her head.

Her neck resisted. She had slept with it turned against the beam, and straightening it took several careful movements.

The Commander inspected the strip Edrin had prepared and asked a question in Naeric.

Marielle caught a word concerning preparation. Edrin answered too quickly for her to follow.

She watched their hands instead.

Edrin’s were steadier than yesterday. Tairn tested the movement of his jaw. Vaelis arranged small objects inside her coat where she could reach them without looking.

“The gate,” the Commander said in Solvari. “Observe the approaches before contact. If the princess comes, do not bring her back here directly.”

Vaelis nodded.

“If she has support?” Tairn asked.

“Determine what they have brought. Withdraw if you cannot take her without exposing this site.”

Marielle’s stomach tightened.

She had been imagining Serali arriving with guards, the agents discovering the trap too late.

But they had already considered guards.

Vaelis looked at her. “Do you think she will come?”

Marielle wanted to say no. She wanted to say yes with every guard in the kingdom behind her.

“I think you should worry about who notices you.”

“The Watch?”

“They have been looking for you for weeks.”

“And the captain?”

Marielle kept her hands still beneath the blanket. “He knows what you are.”

Vaelis studied her. “Does he?”

The Commander held out a hand. Vaelis gave him one of the small objects, waited while he checked it, then returned it to her coat.

Tairn put on his outer layer.

Marielle watched him fasten it. He was going to help take Serali. She had spent part of the night trying to persuade him to release her, and now he was checking whether he had everything he needed to do this to someone else.

He crouched for a final examination of her restraints.

She wanted to ask him not to go.

Instead, she watched his fingers test the knots.

“Water is there,” he told Edrin.

Vaelis opened the door.

Marielle listened to their steps retreat. The Commander shut it behind them and tested the lock.

Eight bells was somewhere above her, approaching at an ordinary speed.

She had no window. No clock. No way to warn anyone at the gate.

Marielle looked at her hands.

She still had all her fingers.

People were looking.

Until she knew something else, those facts would have to hold.