Midnight Moon (The Bleeding Crown Book 1)

Chapter 22 - Gambles and Costs

Koan slumped in his seat, rubbing his forehead.

Fabric whispered behind him. "Your Majesty?" the deep voice of Balrere, the head of the royal guard, ventured. "Is something wrong?"

Koan waved his hand without turning. "Nothing new. I'm just tired, as usual."

Balrere made an uncertain but sympathetic noise.

Koan sighed and dragged a hand across his face. "More than usual. Since that damn woman backed me into admitting that Veanna is missing, I've barely stopped for breath. At least I don't have to lie anymore about where she is." Warding off the concerned tutors, ambitious courtiers, and selfish suitors who came knocking had been exhausting. But now every lie had turned into an admission of ignorance, every evasion into a question he couldn't find the answer to.

Balrere's golden uniform shifted again in the corner of Koan's eye, the younger man still hesitant to express his curiosity even after several years in his role. Koan did not enjoy pandering or fawning, and he would not have those closest to him hide their true thoughts for decorum's sake. "Did the investigations uncover any suspicious connections she has?" the guard asked at last, a hint of crimson rising to his pale cheeks.

"Nothing. I don't know whether to be relieved or frustrated." Koan pressed his lips together. He had immediately inquired into who had the knowledge and the nerve to march into his court and toy with him, with the fate of his child. His people searched for links to nefarious individuals or organisations, and yet... nothing. Nothing even about the Order of Kysuk which Captain Aeron indicated was somehow involved, yet how did one find an almost dead organisation?

"She was being a dutiful subject?" Balrere didn't bother to keep the doubt out of his voice.

Koan smiled wryly. "As far as my channels could uncover, yes. It's unlikely that she was motivated by altruism, and we paid her well enough for the information. Hopefully, that will encourage others to come forward, but still... we're not in a position to pay for every rumour that is passed around."

"You believe the Princess was taken by an Outlander then, sire?"

Koan flicked through the corners of papers piled on his table, as though he could absorb answers they didn't hold. "She may be with one, yes. But kidnapped by one...? It is extremely out of character for someone from the Outlands to involve themselves in the politics of the Lands, especially so directly. The bounty we put on this Outlander may bring us some information, at least."

"Are they that reclusive?"

Koan twisted in his seat to look fully at his bodyguard and the unrestrained curiosity shining in his pale eyes. He was so often surrounded only by the nobles of his court; it was easy to take for granted how comprehensive his education had been. "They keep to themselves, yes: they certainly stay within their tribes. If a full contingent had been seen with Veanna, I would be less confused." He scanned the table and pulled over a map of the continent, indicating its western coast. "The tribes roam the Outlands; its largest border is with Levea. We interact with them very little, though; they keep to their territory and we keep to ours. There's rarely been any reason to do otherwise."

Balrere opened his mouth, then seemed to remember himself and closed it as his cheeks reddened again.

"Go on," Koan prompted, "I like to have input from more than just my Council."

Balrere edged closer. "Is there nothing to be gained from the Outlanders?"

"Not diplomatically - not easily, anyway. As I said, they keep to themselves. And even if we could maintain contact with a tribe despite their movements, events in the Lands tend to get in the way."

"Militarily, then?"

Koan snorted. "Again, not easily - they are formidable fighters who know their domain intimately - but my father would have disagreed. He often spoke about the territory he could gain or the warriors he could utilise, depending on his stance towards our westerly neighbours at any particular moment. Thankfully, he never had the opportunity or the gall to make good on his declarations." He looked closer at Balrere; his guards had to be experienced but still young enough to fight reliably, and the age gap between them and Koan got more marked with every year. "How old are you: thirty? You must not be old enough to remember the previous King."

"No, your Majesty," he admitted.

"That's not such a bad thing," Koan murmured, rubbing his forehead. It was often seen as a curse that the crown was passed on almost exclusively by death, but he wasn't sorry that his father wasn't around to judge and comment on his own rule.

Balrere seemed to understand his silence, and resumed his position as Koan ran his fingers over the royal crest of the snowdrop carved into the arms of his chair. It was supposed to symbolise survival, after even the harshest of winters. What nonsense. The past weeks had shown him, and his whole kingdom, that hope was nothing without results. Love and faith were powerful motivators, but what good were they when they changed nothing? He spent a good part of his reign fighting in one war and, if he couldn't find his heir, he may cause another yet.

Despite all the maps and reports scattered before him, not one patrol had found Veanna's trail, and since the furore in court, no new leads had been forthcoming. The only real intel he had received in weeks was Captain Aeron's report, though the Order of Kysuk were zealot hermits who had spent centuries inching towards extinction. And even that report suggested sabotage and deceit: it seemed that Koan's servants were hiding their involvement in the kidnapping. Admer Timik was under surveillance, but if the Order had people in the palace, where else were they lurking?

At least he still had one secret of his own. Koan purposefully kept Aeron's mission confidential, in the hopes that he would continue his job unnoticed. He just had to pray that the Captain was driven by the same feelings Veanna had for him.

Koan hadn't known how to feel when he first noticed the furtive glances and unbidden smiles passing between the two; he'd had half a mind to send Aeron away. The soldier could chase as many common girls and noble ladies as he liked, but Veanna was a different matter.

Yet it would have broken his heart to take away the new light in his child's eyes. Instead, he distracted curiosity when it was directed at the pair, and found reasons for Aeron's regiment to come back to Beyall regularly. He even monitored the troop movements to ensure the boy wasn't sent on expeditions that were too hazardous, doing everything he could to keep the soldier alive and faithful. It was unfair to the rest of the army, but it was worth it for Veanna - even if she hadn't admitted the relationship to him.

When she was home, he would tell her to follow her heart, to marry the boy or whoever she wanted to, regardless of status, blood, or politics. She had to grasp every wondrous moment before it was too late.

And still, Koan had to play his part, being spun around and around by the court, the army, the kingdom. He had to appease them all, reassure them that he would find his daughter without inconveniencing any of them. It wouldn't be long before the other kingdoms became interested, if they weren't already involved, and he would have to display strength while crumbling inside.

It was killing him to balance politics against his daughter's life, but he had no other choice. He could only hope it didn't kill her.

Koan closed his eyes, unwilling to contemplate the thought. Nothing, from politics to battles to romance, could be worse than that.