The newcomer bowed. He was dressed plainly in a shirt and trews and huntsman’s boots. A few grains of sawdust clung to his trews. He’d come from the practice ground, Innis guessed. Wrestling. He had no sword belted around his waist and wore no golden crown; instead his brown hair was tied simply at the nape of his neck.
King Esger turned his gaze to Dareus. “Prince Harkeld. As you requested.”
The prince looked at Dareus, at the close-clipped gray beard and the plain traveler’s clothes, at the diplomatic seal, heavy and silver around his neck, and then glanced briefly at the three of them, standing behind. “You wish to speak with me?”
“Yes.”
The differences between the two princes were obvious: dark brown hair instead of ash-blond, hazel eyes instead of gray, sun-browned skin instead of pale. There was nothing bullish about Prince Harkeld, he was lighter on his feet, leaner, but he had the same strong jaw as his half-brother, the same strong nose and brow, the same strong, square hands.
“And you are?” the prince asked.
Dareus bowed. “We are from Rosny, highness. In the Allied Kingdoms.”
“They’re witches,” King Esger said. “Come all the way across the ocean to speak with you.”
Shock flared in Prince Harkeld’s eyes. He stepped back a pace. His face twisted for a second—revulsion, fear—and then settled into an expression as hostile as his father’s. He glanced at the diplomatic seal. His jaw tightened. “Then speak.”
Dareus bowed again. “You’ve heard of the Ivek Curse, Prince Harkeld?”
“A peasants’ tale.” The prince’s voice was curt, dismissive. “To frighten children.”
“No tale, your highness.” Dareus shook his head. “The curse spreads in water. In lakes and rivers, in town wells. Those who drink become monsters. Mothers eat their babies’ flesh. Fathers violate their children and then slaughter them—”
“A peasants’ tale,” the prince said again. “If this is what you wish to talk to me about—”
“The curse has risen on Vaere’s eastern coast,” Dareus said. “Unless it’s broken it will roll across the Seven Kingdoms like a tide. It will claim this continent. Every village and town.”
The prince shrugged, his disbelief evident. “Why come to me?”
Innis glanced at King Esger. He was leaning forward slightly, his eyes on Prince Harkeld. The back of her neck prickled as tiny hairs stood on end. He hates his son.
“Because you are the only person who can break the curse.”
Prince Harkeld laughed. “Your wits are addled, witch.” He turned to the king. “Father, must I listen to this nonsense—”
King Esger silenced him with a flick of his hand. “Listen.”
The prince turned back to face Dareus. Anger colored his cheeks.
“The curse can only be broken by someone of royal birth. A direct descendent of the house of Rutersvard.”
“So? I’m hardly the only—”
“Someone who also has mage blood.”
Fury flared on Prince Harkeld’s face. He took a step towards Dareus. “How dare you—”
“Your mother’s father was a mage,” Dareus said.
Prince Harkeld halted. Shock rustled through the throne room. The guards stirred. Prince Jaegar jerked back. Only the king sat unmoved.
Innis’s magic spiraled closer to the surface. She braced herself for whatever came next.
Prince Harkeld swung round to face the king. “Father?”
Prince Jaegar’s expression was exultant. He laughed aloud. “Witch blood!” He leaned forward, his expression hardening into hatred. “Get out of this palace—”
King Esger halted him with a raised hand. “No.” The king wasn’t looking at either of his sons, he was looking at Dareus. “Harkeld is useful. Isn’t he, witch?”
Prince Harkeld swallowed. His face was ashen.
“He’s the only person who can break Ivek’s curse,” Dareus said.
“My son...or his blood?”
Foreboding gathered in Innis’s chest, squeezing her lungs.
“His blood.”
King Esger smiled. He sat back and folded his hands over his stomach. “Harkeld will do it.”
The foreboding evaporated. Innis drew in a deep breath. Dareus had been correct—they’d walk out of here. There’d be no bloodshed.
Dareus bowed. “Thank you, your highness.”
“Once certain conditions have been met.”
“Conditions?”
“Payment for my son’s services. For his blood.”
“Payment? Your highness, I have no—”
“Not from you,” King Esger said. “From my fellow kings. They shall pay for Harkeld’s blood.”
“But your highness. I have no authority to negotiate—”
“That’s what ambassadors are for,” the king said.
“But your highness, there’s no time—”
“There’s plenty of time,” King Esger said dismissively. “Where’s the curse now? Vaere’s east coast? More than a thousand leagues from here.”
“People are already dying in Vaere.” Dareus took a step towards the king.
One of the guards flanking the throne drew his sword.
Innis shifted her weight, standing on the balls of her feet. Her heart was beating fast, her magic close