Songbird's Cage

Chapter 5

People in the halls stared as Lark went by. Her gown swirled around her legs with every stride, and Rory struggled to keep up with her. She felt bad for outpacing him while he was in pain, but she driven by her need to speak to Aspen. She needed to know why attempts were being made on her life and who was involved.

Lark didn't stop at the entrance to the throne room. She didn't even wait for the guards to announce her. Her palm striking the wood, she threw open the doors, walking in. Her footsteps rang out in the silence as the roomful of men stared at her. No one moved, just watched her as she stood in the threshold of the chamber.

Then a familiar dark-haired man rose to his feet, bowing.

"Your Highness," he said. "What can we do for you?"

She recognized him as the man who had been watching her from the table below on her wedding night. It had been his deep brown eyes full on pity towards her and anger towards Aspen.

"I want to know why I'm being targeted," she said, her voice strong. "When Prince Aspen is the one who will take the throne."

Lark moved farther into room, and all the men around the table got up to bow to her. All except Prince Aspen, who leaned back against his chair, folding his arms. When the king gave him a cross look, he shifted, putting his hands against the table as he spoke at her.

"I will not bow to my own wife," he spat. She raised a brow.

"I was to believe the unpleasantness of that duty warranted respect," she replied. The room was utterly silent. Aspen's jaw was clenched. She heard Rory make a strangled sound as he stifled a laugh, and she moved to the table, settling into a chair beside the dark-haired man.

"I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced," she said to him. He smiled, inclining his head.

"Silas," he supplied. "Prince Aspen is my half brother."

She recalled his name from her teachings of the court, though she'd never imagined him to be so striking or charming.

"Duke Silas," she said. "Of course. I've heard many things about you."

"Just Silas, please," he responded. "And good things, I hope."

"Many of them were."

His eyes glittered, and he grinned. "Maybe someday you'll tell me just how much you've heard."

Aspen cleared his throat loudly. Silas rolled his eyes.

"Calm down, little brother," he said. "It's not as if you-"

"Silas. That's enough."

All attentions turned towards the king. Lark had never really looked at him before. His black hair was streaked with grey, but despite his rugged features, his age didn't show in his voice or demeanor. His angular features had been passed to his son, but his poise and humble bearing had not.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Lark apologized. "I didn't mean to disturb this meeting."

The king laughed suddenly, and she broke off suddenly, startled.

"Princess Lark," he said, shaking his head mirthfully. "You would have been satisfied if the only thing you did was disrupt this meeting. You're just like your father - willing to do whatever it takes to be heard."

She blushed, abashed. Her long hair was coming free from its pins, and she brushed it back, holding her head high.

"I have a right to know why assassins are at every turn."

"Yes," Silas answered, casting a look at Aspen. "You do."

Lark realized that she wasn't the only person who suspected her husband. A man across the table had and piece of parchment and a quill, and she quickly claimed it. Dipping the feather into the bottle of ink, she drew the double triangle mark that had been on the assassin's wrist.

"He had that symbol on his arm," she said, sliding the paper into the center of the table. Aspen paled.

"You can't be serious," he said, looking at her with confusion. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"What is it?" the king demanded. Aspen shook his head, standing so quickly he almost knocked his chair over.

"It can't be the same," he stammered. "Nava has that mark on her back!"

She winced slightly at the name, as if she'd swallowed something distasteful.

"But that means she could be dangerous," one of the lords said. "She could be trying to end the royal line."

Aspen shook his head. "No. No. She wouldn't. I love her. She's not a killer!"

The king leaned over to Silas.

"Find her," he hissed. "I want her questioned."

Aspen backed away. "Nava... no. She wouldn't. But..."

Silas stood. "Little brother-"

"Don't!" Aspen shouted. "Don't patronize me! I love her!"

He jerked his fingers through his hair, his chest heaving.

"I'll find her," he muttered. "I'll ask her. She'll tell me the truth. She loves me."

Silas moved between Aspen and the door.

"Aspen," he said slowly, putting up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Is that wise? If she is trying to get close to you for... other reasons... would she be above lying to you?"

The prince moved forward. Silas tried to catch his shoulders, but received a fist to the nose. Free of his half-brother's grip, Aspen threw open the doors, running out.