Dark Swan Comic 1-4 by Richelle Mead
Meanwhile, at the sight of him, I managed to make my legs work again and scrambled to my feet. Jasmine grasped my hand, helping me rise, and as one, we backed up slightly so that we stood in line with Dorian. The world reeled a little, but I refused to show my weakness. I would not faint.
“Get rid of him,” I said, trying not to sound hysterical. “Deny him hospitality and throw him out.”
“She’s an outcast here,” growled Kiyo, fists clenched. “And this has nothing to do with you. Send her away.”
Tension and silence filled the space between all of us, and all eyes swiveled to Dorian. Neither Kiyo nor I—nor Jasmine, for that matter—had hospitality and protection within Dorian’s household at the moment. We had no guarantees of safety. Hell, if Kiyo decided to attack me right now, no one had to intervene. We would be a great dinner show. I wondered how good a defense Jasmine and I could put up, if it would be enough to give us a chance to escape to my own land if Dorian wouldn’t help us.
I could guess Dorian’s thoughts—or rather, his confusion. That Kiyo would be on the verge of killing me made no sense. Asking why would go against Dorian’s natural, all-knowing façade. Plus, Kiyo and I weren’t his favorite people right now. Giving in to either of us meant a concession Dorian didn’t want to make.
“Hail to you!”
An unexpected, raspy voice made me jump, and even Dorian flinched a little. From the crowd, Masthera had emerged, her white hair streaming behind her and eyes as wide as ever. She came forward with purpose and—to my total astonishment—fell onto her knees before me. She stared up at me, and I expected that usual scattered and crazy look. Instead, I saw awe and rapture. Worship, even.
“Hail to you, Queen of Rowan and Thorn. Hail to you, bringer of life, bringer of life. I see it—I see the life growing within you, the mother who will fulfill the prophecy!”
She reached a skeletal hand toward my stomach, and I jerked away from her grasp. “Don’t touch me!” I exclaimed.
“I see it,” she cried. “You shine, Queen of Rowan and Thorn. You carry the heir. You shine with it.”
“Dorian!” exclaimed Kiyo, drawing our attention back. His expression had grown dark at Masthera’s words. Full disclosure was the last thing he wanted. “Give her to me! Stay out of this!”
I again looked pleadingly at Dorian. “He’s going to try to kill me,” I said. “If you throw me out, he and Maiwenn will come after me. Please give us your hospitality.”
Dorian—like most everyone in the hall—had been left dumbstruck by Masthera’s proclamation. Dorian forcibly schooled his face back to neutrality, but the gaze he turned on me was so heavy and penetrating that I was nearly knocked to my knees again.
“Is it true?” he asked in a low voice that probably only Jasmine heard. “Are you pregnant?”
There was no point in lying or pretending. I gave a swift nod.
His next question nearly broke my heart. He tried so hard to keep his voice level and strong, but I heard the break in it, the longing and desperation. “Is it—is there any chance—is it—”
He couldn’t finish but didn’t need to. He wanted to know if he was the father. A million thoughts raced through my head. Would things have been different if we’d actually had intercourse the last time we were together? Would I have gotten pregnant with his child, instead of Kiyo’s? Maybe. Maybe not. Sex didn’t always lead to pregnancy, especially with the gentry. I could still have ended up with Kiyo’s babies or been left with a talk show–worthy paternity dispute. If Dorian had been the one to get me pregnant, my future would have been signed and sealed. He would have moved heaven and earth to keep me safe. As it was, I probably could have lied now. The gentry had no paternity tests. That would have simplified things—but I couldn’t do it.
“No,” I said softly.
Dorian’s features stilled, and a surprising wave of regret and sorrow filled me in response to the cavalcade of emotions that had to be going through him as well. He had no reason to help me, not after what he saw as my betrayal. And certainly not with me carrying another man’s children.
“Please,” said Jasmine. Her blue-gray eyes were large and desperate. I’d never seen her so humble and meek. And I’d certainly never expected to see it on my behalf. “Please help us. Please give us your hospitality. Your Majesty.”
My eyes were still locked with Dorian’s, my heart still breaking over the hurt I’d caused him. Off to the side, I heard Kiyo warn Dorian again, “This is between Eugenie and me. Give her to me, and this ends. If you don’t, Maiwenn and God knows who else will get involved.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to Dorian, my voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please,” Jasmine repeated, nearly on the verge of tears now. “Hospitality.”
The whole world hinged on Dorian. No one breathed. Then, abruptly, he turned away from me.
“Granted,” he said crisply. “The daughters of Storm King are under my protection. Remove the kitsune, and do not allow him entrance again.”
The guards were in motion almost before Dorian finished speaking. More had slipped into the room in the last minute or so, and it was a good thing too. Kiyo fought against all of them as they laid hands on him and began dragging him backward. They made little progress, so great were his struggles He was strong, so insanely strong, and it scared me to think what would have happened if I’d been left to him in my weakened state.
“Dorian!” roared Kiyo, still fighting against the guards’ grip. “Don’t do this! You’ll regret it!”
Dorian had returned to his normal laconic persona. “You will address me as ‘King Dorian’ or ‘Your Majesty,’” he replied. “And you will not disobey my orders within my home.”
The floor trembled, and I heard a gasp from those gathered. Uneasily, I remembered an idle comment Dorian had once made, about how he could bring the castle down around us if he wanted to. The walls stayed intact, however, but a large section of the stone floor ripped up, eliciting more cries of fear. Before my eyes, the slab of stone morphed and stretched, then flew through the air toward Kiyo. It wrapped itself around his torso, enclosing his arms in a sort of magical strait-jacket. Kiyo, unsurprisingly, stopped struggling, but his shouts didn’t cease.
“Eugenie! You don’t know what you’re doing! This isn’t over! Eugenie!”
“Get him out,” said Dorian coldly. “Now. If he resists again or changes form, kill him.”
The guards hurried to obey while Kiyo continued yelling his outrage at me, Dorian, and the world. I hoped they moved fast because Dorian had had a point. If Kiyo transformed into a fox, he’d slip out of his stone prison. Of course, he’d have to transform into a small fox, which would do little harm, but still. It would be a lot better for all of us once Kiyo was outside the walls.
The guards must have succeeded because no more commotion followed. Jasmine turned to Dorian.
“You should have killed him anyway,” she said flatly. Her standard response.
The ghost of a smile flickered across Dorian’s lips, though his eyes were still hard. “You’re nearly as delightful as your sister,” he observed. “No matter how displeased I am at the two of you right now, I admit, things will certainly be entertaining with you around. And they will become very entertaining soon.” That was directed at me. “If you think you brought a war down before, you haven’t seen anything yet, my dear. You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble.”
I barely heard him. The adrenaline was fast fading from my body, and all the pain from fighting with Kiyo and then doing the forced transition began returning. I felt sick, and my surroundings were spinning once again.
“Sorry,” I managed to say to Dorian, just before collapsing.
Chapter 26
“So, let me make sure I’m following this correctly.”
I sighed and shifted on the bed, knowing Dorian was repeating this conversation mostly because he liked seeing my discomfort.
“Your ‘technology’ can tell you you’
“Took,” I muttered. “Seeing as it’s kind of pointless now.”
Dorian leaned back in a plush armchair, face expressing overly dramatic pondering. After fainting, I’d been given a guest room befitting my status, a good sign since “hospitality” simply meant protection and in no way related to one’s accommodations. It wasn’t quite as nice as Dorian’s room, of course, but the mattress was thick and fluffy, and the green velvet canopy coordinated with the heavy brocaded bedding. As sick as I’d felt, I honestly would have been content to curl up on the floor somewhere. I’d been awake for about an hour now, alone in the vast room save for Dorian.
“What a fascinatingly bizarre turn of events,” he mused, stroking his chin. “If you thought the Iron Crown scared people, just wait until this news spreads. Which, of course, it already has.”
I draped a hand over my forehead. “Isn’t it bad enough that I’m carrying a world-conquering prophecy child? Why all the political fallout?”
“Because you’re carrying a world-conquering prophecy child,” he responded. “It’s the type of thing people tend to have strong feelings about.”
“I thought almost everyone wanted to conquer the human world.”
“Most,” he agreed. “But not all. Especially those who—after observing your record thus far—might fear you’ll conquer this world first.”
I rolled over to my side, giving me a better view of him. Since the earlier spectacle, Dorian had masked whatever personal feelings he had about my pregnancy, switching into cunning ruler mode. “But not you,” I said. “You’ve always been in favor of this—fulfilling the prophecy.”
“I’ve never made a secret of that,” he agreed. “From the moment we met.”
That was true, at least. He’d sat on that desire while we were involved, but I’d always known it lurked. “You’ve just kept other secrets instead,” I blurted out.
He didn’t answer me right away, but those green-gold eyes weighed me thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, I have. Secrets I now regret.”
That silenced me for several moments. I hadn’t expected any kind of apology. Something in me softened toward him. “Really?”
“If I hadn’t deceived you about the Iron Crown,” he explained, “we would still be together.”
I could only stare. The piece of me that had never stopped loving him tentatively reared its head. It was hard to believe he was here confessing his feelings, admitting that what we’d had had been more important than his scheming. It gave me a new insight into him, one that astonished … yet pleased me.
“And if we’d stayed together,” he continued, “I would have been the lucky beneficiary of this medicinal slip.”
So much for new insight.
I groaned and turned away. “Of course. Of course that’s the real source of your regret. You don’t get to lead the revolution.”
I heard him get up and sit on the bed beside me. A few seconds later, he actually had the audacity to lie down. I wiggled over to make room.
“It’s more than revolution,” he said. “I also told you the first time we met that I’d have a child with you, regardless of any prophecy.”
“I’m not convinced that the ‘with me’ part was so relevant.”
Dorian touched my cheek and turned my face toward his. “Do you really believe that? Do you really believe my feelings for you were so small that your being the mother of my child wouldn’t have meant the world to me?”
I started to snarkily correct him with worlds, but it seemed petty. “I don’t know what I believe,” I said honestly. “I don’t even know if I have the energy or motivation to analyze our relationship when I have this going on.” I rested my hand on my stomach. Dorian’s eyes followed that motion, utterly captivated.
“Despite your foolish fathering choices, this …” He reached toward my stomach as well, then pulled back. “This is a miracle. This is a prophecy fulfilled. This is life. And really, Kiyo is no longer relevant. He’s given up any claims to these children. They are yours and yours alone now.”
My fingers tightened on my stomach, not painfully, but more in a possessive type of way. My gaze grew unfocused. “I still can’t believe that. I can’t believe that he’d dismiss his own children so easily. That he’d dismiss me so easily …”
“I doubt it was easy. You aren’t that easy to get over.” A small note of bitterness there. “But his opposition to the prophecy was too great. Just as my support is great enough to take you in—despite your betrayal—and embark in the madness to come.”
Betrayal? I started to tell him he was the last one who should accuse anyone of that—but held back. “Will people think you’re crazy to do it?”
“Hardly,” he snorted. “Most will think they’re my children anyway, ironically enough.” No one except Jasmine had heard my brief paternity exchange with Dorian in the hall.
I frowned. “I think sometimes Kiyo does too.”
“They can be.”
My first reaction was that this was some sort of joke of his, but all humor had disappeared from his face. “I don’t think you fully understand genetics.”
“I understand that parenting is more than just blood,” he said, still deadly earnest. “And as I said: he’s relinquished any claims. You are in control, and if even he and others question the children’s parentage, then so much the better. Simply declare me the father. Have it recorded, and by our laws, the children will be mine for all intents and purposes.”
Something about that set off my alarms. “What do you mean ‘intents and purposes’?”
He shrugged—a bit too casually. “Titles. Prestige. Protection. Inheritance—if either is strong enough to hold my kingdom. Which, according to the prophecy, your son should be.”
“I don’t know,” I said. There might be some safety benefits to this sort of gentry “adoption,” but I had a feeling that Dorian wasn’t telling me all of them—particularly things that benefited him alone. He was still upset with me. He didn’t like Kiyo. There was no reason that I could see for this. “I have to think about it.”
“Think fast,” Dorian said. “Things will be in motion soon, particularly once we get you back to your own lands.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why would you want to claim someone else’s children? I mean, I get your wanting to see the prophecy come true, but you don’t have to take that extra step.”
“Maybe someone else’s children are better than no children at all,” he said.
It was another odd statement from him, a surprising one. Both philosophical and touching. Yet, I still believed there was a deception here. This wasn’t out of love for me. Not anymore. His hand moved toward my stomach again and he didn’t pull it away this time, though he made sure to keep away from my hand.
“Let me ask you a question,” he said when I made no response. “Why did you choose to keep these children? Do you fear the unholy procedure your people use to end life? Were you unable to live with your daughter’s blood on your hands?”
My mind rewound back to that day at the doctor’s. That day? Hell. It had only been earlier today. So much had happened since then that weeks might have gone by. My horrible ordeal with Kiyo had blurred the memories, but now, the ultrasound came back to me, the sights and sounds as real and vivid as though I were experiencing them all over again.
“I heard their heartbeats,” I said at last. “And I saw them.” Well, kind of. Those blurs still didn’t look like much to me, but the point was irrelevant. “And when I did …” I groped to explain my feelings. “I just … I just wanted them. Both of them. None of the rest mattered.”
A slow, strange smile spread across Dorian’s face. “That,” he declared, “is the most gentry thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Normally, I would have mocked him for using “gentry” instea
“Not so. Humans overthink things. They throw away life heedlessly. Honestly, after all this time, I was beginning to think you were more human than shining one.”
“I hate to tell you, but I am,” I said.
Dorian made himself more comfortable, and the hand on my stomach moved so that his arm lay over me, almost—but not quite—an embrace. It was possessive, like I was a prize that had fallen into his lap. “Are you, my dear? You’re expressing philosophies very like my own. You’re carrying a child that will allegedly conquer the human world—a world you can’t go back to for a while, seeing as it would give the kitsune an edge. You’re safer here in this world where, I’d like to add, you rule not one but two kingdoms. That,” he declared triumphantly, “makes you, by my reckoning, more like a gentry than a human.”
I looked away, not meeting his eyes—because I had a crazy feeling he was right.
SOMETHING IN THE SNOW
Outside, darkness had fallen, with only well-placed torches to give us light. The terrible screech sounded again, echoed by smaller, terror-filled cries from the Palm residents as they scurried for shelter. A flash of red caught my eye, and I grabbed Rhona’s arm as she ran past.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. Even in the flickering torchlight, I could see she was as pale as the snow around us.
“The storm,” she cried. “The storm is coming.” She tugged desperately against me and I released her, more confused than ever.
“What’s going on?” said Rurik, coming to my side. “Are they being raided?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “They keep saying that—”
I heard the roar again and this time its owner came into view. My jaw dropped.
“That’s the storm?” I asked.
If you could take every stereotype and caricature of the abominable snowman and roll them into one archetypal snow monster, you’d have what was standing before me. It was about twenty feet tall, covered in white shaggy fur. Three curved horns—one on each side and one in the forehead—protruded from its head. Its eyes were large and black, as were the six-inch claws on its hands.