Thief's Heartache (The Imperial Series)

By LA Quill

As the eldest daughter of the Crown Prince Damuk of the Abital Empire, Marella has never been out from under her father's penetrating gaze. But after months of begging, her father has finally allowed her to go west to the Yarian Republic. Now at the court of her uncle, King Darian, Marella finds herself as bored as she ever was at home. For now.

William, twin brother of the powerful Lord of Ravenscar, has spent his entire life following his brother. But his brother's brutality is getting worse and William is losing faith and regretting his promises of long ago. As his brother begins down a path of cruelty and depravity, William realizes there are places he cannot go.

Thrown together by fate and a madman's lust for power, William and Marella must join forces. But even together they can do no more than try desperately to keep their distance. With no resources and no allies, can they weather the storm?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tear Drop Books
• Release date: Jun 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476312590

LA Quill

LA Quill was raised on the Canadian prairies. She has been fascinated with myth and fantasy since she was a small child. As she grew into adulthood, a fascination with the written word developed. She majored in English with a focus in creative writing when she attended university and is now pursuing her PhD. She also studies anthropology, religions, and politics, all of which contribute to her written work. Today, LA Quill resides in central Canada with her two sons. She is a full-time writer and is the author of the popular Imperial Series and the forthcoming Crystal's Chronicles. She also has several other projects in the works. If you're interested in discovering more about LA Quill and her work, connect with her through her blog: http://laquill.blogspot.com/

Book preview

Book 3 of the Imperial Series

By LA Quill

Copyright 2012 LA Quill

Published by Tear Drop Books

Smashwords Edition

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

NOVELS BY LA QUILL

THE IMPERIAL SERIES

ARIANNA`S TALE

DRAGON`S TEMPEST

THIEF’S HEARTACHE

MAGE’S REBELLION

SON’S BETRAYAL

THE KNIGHTS OF ST. ANDREWS

THE SEARCH FOR GRANDMASTER SVEND

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

RETURN AND OTHER STORIES

INITIATION AND OTHER STORIES

Prologue

Prologue

He strode down the long corridor, past the watchful guards, and approached the closed doors of his brother’s chambers. There he stopped and waited, ever patient, knowing better than to interrupt Clinton when he was…occupied with a woman. He didn’t need another lecture today.

Hearing a muffled cry, William leaned casually against the wall, trying not to think about what was going on behind those doors. Clinton was still engaged with his newest pet. There was no telling how much longer he’d be and no sense in trying to do anything about it. A second cry almost made William flinch. He knew Clinton wouldn’t kill the girl. It wasn’t his style, to waste such a precious resource, not on purpose. But she obviously wasn’t enjoying her time with William’s twin brother.

Another cry, this one low and full of pain, had William shaking his head at his brother’s lack of finesse. He couldn’t imagine abusing any woman, even if he had been a mage and could derive power from sex. And this particular girl was pretty and sweet, not crude enough to enjoy the pain his brother would inflict. She certainly didn’t deserve such rough treatment. His heart ached for the young woman and he wished there was something he could do for her.

But it wasn’t for him to judge his only brother. He wasn’t a mage. He didn’t know what it was like to crave power day and night, or so Clinton claimed every time they had that particular argument. He would never know how difficult it was for Clinton, searching for a way to gain all the power he sought without resorting to the pain and death of true blood magick.

Another scream pierced the air and William had to firmly resist the urge to charge into that chamber. He couldn’t rescue the girl even if he tried.

As he waited, William tried to block out the girl’s cries. He let his mind wander, recalling the conversation the two brothers had had several years ago. Clinton had been tempted by blood magicks, seduced by their power. He’d been near to sacrificing one of his most trusted servants when William had intervened.

What the hell are you doing? he’d shouted at his twin after bursting through a solid wood door.

What I have to, had been the only reply. Clinton had been well and truly caught in the grip of the powers he sought to control. What he hadn’t understood was the nature of the power. There was no control. There never would be. There was only a slow descent into madness.

William had been determined to save his twin from true corruption and had thrown himself between Clinton and the servant. He’d refused to be moved, even when Clinton had turned his powerful magicks against his younger twin. William had flinched but held his ground, certain that Clinton would never hurt him, not even when under the influence of such powers. It had taken the better part of a candlemark, but William had convinced his brother not to pursue his lust for blood magicks.

Despite Clinton’s oath, his lust for power had not lessened. After some experimenting, he’d discovered that he could use the energy raised during sex to fuel his own innate magicks. This energy was almost as powerful as a death and it had satisfied the craving Clinton had been battling, at least to a certain extent. William had agreed, if grudgingly, not to interfere in Clinton’s pursuit of this particular type of power. While he didn’t wholly approve of using sex magick, it was better than sacrificing dozens of servants on a near-daily basis. Besides being morally reprehensible, they couldn’t afford the loss. The tiny isle of Ravenscar just didn’t have enough servants to go around.

When he’d realized that Clinton was hurting the girls, spilling small amounts of blood to augment the sex magick he found so invigorating, William had again protested. He didn’t like to see anyone hurt unnecessarily, especially women.

Clinton had not appreciated his concerns. I don’t interfere when you bed a woman, Clinton had sneered. I’ll thank you to give me the same courtesy.

William couldn’t argue that point. His only condition was that none of the girls die in the process. Clinton, remembering his oath to not use death in his quest for power, had agreed.

That had been several years ago now and Clinton had been very aware of William’s sensibilities. Every girl who’d left the large and well-appointed bedchamber had been alive and able to walk under her own power. Knowing that this small concession was all he was going to get, William had left the rest alone.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. As the door opened and Clinton emerged, William gave his twin a scathing glance. He said nothing, though he would have liked to give Clinton a lecture on how to treat women with decency and respect. But he didn’t bother. Clinton had heard it all before and had never seemed to care. It was unrealistic to think he would suddenly care now.

With a cocky smile on his face, Clinton started buttoning his shirt. What have you found out?

William only shrugged and kept his true thoughts to himself. It’ll be easier than we thought. King Darian isn’t as concerned about security as his father was. Getting into the capital won’t be a problem. Darian was well-loved by his people and had more faith in his subjects than was healthy for any King. He seemed to think that love would protect him and that guards weren’t entirely necessary. He was even known to ride through the countryside without an armed escort. It was foolish, but it had made William’s planning easier.

Clinton cocked an eyebrow. For you. But for those of us who aren’t professional thieves? He headed away from his chambers with long and easy strides. An unearthly growl came from a darkened corridor but Clinton ignored it. He’d created the beasts that prowled his castle. He was safe from their attacks. Intruders would not find themselves so lucky.

William pushed away from the wall and followed at the same leisurely pace, also ignoring whatever creature might be near. They usually left him alone so he returned the favor. I have an ally in the court. He’ll bring the girl out of the palace to a spot of my choosing. But you can’t use your magicks. He held up a hand to forestall any protests. King Darian may not be a mage, but he has mages in the palace. They’ll detect you if you use even a tiny spell.

Republican mages are no threat to me. Clinton started down the long flight of winding stairs on his way to the war room, expecting William to follow at his heels. He wasn’t disappointed.

Normally I’d agree with you. They stepped into the war room and both took seats near the banked fire and stretched their feet toward its fading warmth. But Darian’s brother-in-law has sent several Imperial mages. They’re better trained and more powerful than their Republican counterparts. They’ll catch you, of that I have no doubt.

If Damuk can spare them, they can’t be that powerful.

Don’t be so sure, William insisted. The Imperial princess is in residence and Damuk is not the kind of man to leave his daughter unprotected by powerful magicks. These new mages will catch you if you’re not careful.

Considering this, Clinton waved a hand through the air, causing the fire to flare to life. Warmth quickly flooded the room. Fine. We’ll do this without magick. But I need that girl, and I can’t have Darian’s men hounding our footsteps.

I’ve thought of that, William declared as he reached for a map. He used his finger to trace a path as he spoke. If we ride straight from Scytha to the Ardan River, we can make an easy escape by ship. Darian’s vessels, while seaworthy, aren’t as fast as ours. Even if someone sees us and follows us to the river, they’ll never keep up once we’re on the open ocean. Or that was the theory. And theories didn’t always turn into reality. They’d have to wait and see.

Clinton studied the map before him for several long moments. Fine. Have enough horses for all of us, plus a few extra just in case. He’d had enough experience with horses to know that you always planned for one to fall lame or even fall over dead. You couldn’t really predict animals and he didn’t want to be caught unprepared while executing such an important plan.

William nodded, having anticipated the request. I’ll handle that part myself.

Why not leave it to your friend? Clinton asked, eyes still on the map.

Shrugging, William settled further back into his padded chair. He’s an ally, but I wouldn’t call him a friend. We’ve wenched together a time or two, shared a pint here and there, but we’re not friends. He’s uncomfortable enough with what I’ve asked him to do. If I ask more…

Clinton sat up abruptly, attention now firmly on his brother. Might he betray us? This was a real concern and something they could not risk.

William thought about that for a moment but ultimately shook his head. I don’t think so. He has no love of the girl or her family. He leveled a firm gaze at his brother. But he has a soft spot for women. I have assured him that the girl will not be harmed. At all. By anyone.

The look in his brother’s eyes made Clinton squirm just a little, but he recovered quickly. We’ve had this conversation. Several times. What happens in my bedchamber is my business.

William refused to back down this time. Surely you can bed her without hurting her. It wasn’t a question.

Somehow Clinton knew he could lose his brother over this. And he needed William’s skill to pull this off without getting caught. So he compromised. It went against his nature, but it seemed the better option. That will depend on her. I won’t hurt her if I don’t have to.

That’s the best I’m going to get, I suppose, William thought to himself, not caring if Clinton could read his thoughts on his face. He was getting tired placating fathers and fending off brothers who didn’t take kindly to bruises and cuts. If Clinton had to deal with one irate father…

But I don’t, do I? Clinton said silkily, proving that he was indeed following his brother’s thoughts. And you deal with them so well. Besides, they’re servants. Who cares what a servant thinks? Clinton didn’t like expending the energy to invade his brother’s thoughts, but recently it had become almost necessary.

Instead of answering, William returned to a more pressing matter. This girl isn’t a servant. She’s petite, inexperienced, and a royal princess. There’s a larger plan here than satisfying your libido.

The reminder of his scheme quickly sobered Clinton. He knew what he wanted and he knew what he had to do to get it. It wasn’t exactly complicated. Once they had the girl it would only be a matter of time. He hated time. Did he have the patience for this?

Clinton stood and wandered to the expansive windows of the war room. He looked out over the barren rock and resisted the urge to sigh. He was tired of rock and rain. Ruling over peasants and cave dwellers wasn’t exactly satisfying. He had tried founding a worthy kingdom of his own here, but they had no resources and fewer people. No, he had nothing left to work toward on this tiny island.

He wanted a kingdom of his own. He wanted power. The closest kingdom was the Yarian Republic, but he didn’t have near enough men to conquer it. He certainly didn’t have enough men if the Yarians called upon their allies to defend them. No, war wasn’t going to win him anything but could cost him everything.

Which left only his plan. Time consuming, irritating, but relatively simple. As he watched the moonlight play over the water, he committed himself to his course. Once they started this, there was no going back.

Turning back toward his brother, Clinton spoke before he could change his mind. How soon can we sail?

At first light, if you’re ready, came the ready response. William had been prepared for almost a full month now, but he knew that Clinton was still searching for a faster way to accomplish his goals.

Finally, Clinton sighed. Let’s get this over with.

William nodded and rose to relay the order, thoughts on the ship and its crew.

Clinton watched his brother move toward the door. As William reached the portal, Clinton called out, Can I trust you brother?

Glancing over his shoulder, William gave the only answer he could. I gave my oath to Father. I will not betray it.

Even when you don’t agree with me? There was a hint of suspicion in his tone.

William only laughed as he pulled the door open. I rarely agree with you. He left to prepare the ship, hoping Clinton wouldn’t lose his head.

Clinton stared at the closed door for a long moment, truly considering his brother for the first time.

Chapter One

She watched it dance in the wind, alone and happy that way. It twisted with the breeze, not caring if it was watched or not, content to simply be, to simply exist. The wind snapped through the garden, tearing the lily from its delicate perch, tossing it into the air and carrying it away. Taking it somewhere new and maybe even somewhere exciting.

Marella sighed, wishing she was as free, as content with her life, as that little lily seemed to be. She glanced down at her slippered feet, running her toes through the dry gravel that surrounded the bench she sat on, and tried to let her mind wander. Tried to let it drift away from the here and now. If she could accomplish that, the day might not be entirely a waste of her time.

Something sharp and harsh pulled her out of her reverie. She heard the voices of some of the courtiers calling her name but she ignored them, or she tried to. They’d long since lost their fascination for her. At first she’d spent all her time with them, but that hadn’t been true in weeks. These days she preferred her own company over theirs.

As she heard them moving closer, she rose and slipped through the garden, intent on evading the highborn children. They might be about her age, some even older, but they were nothing like she’d expected. Thoughtless, arrogant, and occasionally mean spirited, they thought of little beyond immediate gratification. If something wasn’t fun right now, or if someone wasn’t doing exactly what they wanted…well, they had made her life miserable several times over the past weeks. Apparently her family connections meant very little to them.

They were coming closer, searching for her or perhaps her cousin, but Marella had almost reached her destination. She would be safe from prying eyes in just a few heartbeats. There was a door behind a willow tree, a door that only the King and his family could use. Since it led directly to the royal apartments, it was guarded constantly. Only a member of the royal family would be permitted through this door. If the courtiers tried to follow her, the guards would stop them. In theory. She hadn’t yet used the door to escape, but she assumed the guards would do their duty.

She approached the door almost at a run and the guards pulled open the portal without hesitation. She slipped through, glad the palace made it easy to avoid the brash young courtiers. Marella was tired of their company, tired of their games, tired of the Republic itself. As the door closed behind her, she mounted the nearest cool marble staircase, taking the most direct route back to her chambers. She reflected on the past few weeks as she walked and could do nothing but despair.

She’d begged her parents to allow her to come to the Republic, thinking that perhaps here, among the glittering throng of the Republican court, she’d find a husband, a man worthy of marrying an Imperial princess. The gods knew she’d had little success finding a husband in the Empire. She’d tried she really had, but every man there was intimidated and even frightened by her father, Crown Prince Damuk. She didn’t blame them, but it made finding a man to spend the rest of her life with difficult, to say the least. No girl wanted to be married to a man who could be cowed by her own father. That would be like having two masters instead of one. No fun for her, at least.

So she’d begged her mother, father, and grandfather to be allowed to spend some time in her uncle’s court. King Darian was her mother’s brother and he had always allowed any of his sister’s children to visit his court whenever they’d liked. Marella’s mother had been more than willing to send her sixteen-year-old daughter to her brother’s court for a while. Her father and grandfather had taken more convincing. They had been of the opinion that she shouldn’t leave home. She, of course, had been determined to go.

After months of pleading her father had finally agreed. He’d sent her west across the mountains in the care of her older brother. Tristan had deposited her in their uncle’s care and left, sailing off for his own adventure. At first she’d delighted in being on her own, being away from her father, grandfather, and brother. She’d enjoyed her freedom, knowing that her Uncle Darian would give her much more independence than she would ever have seen at home. She had even reveled in the new experience, drank it in like she had never taken a breath of free air before.

But it wasn’t long before boredom had settled in and she had nearly run mad with the tedium of it all. She had started to wish that she’d gone with her brother, got to see the things he would surely see. She even started to long for home, to want one good argument with her father to break up her day. Or a day enchanting the Imperial nobles, enticing their firstborn sons before slipping away when she peaked their interest. And she missed her grandfather, Emperor Raewkon, and the way he doted on her, treated her as his little darling. Marella had grown weary of the Republic and the little it had to offer. She was just about ready to admit that she needed to go home.

As she reached the top of the stairs on the third floor, she heard her uncle’s voice. He was discussing something with her aunt, something that was surely of no interest to her. She quickened her pace, hoping to avoid both of them, to escape into her chambers before either noticed her presence and decided to have a word with her.

To her chagrin, she wasn’t quite fast enough.

Marella? her uncle called, voice full of concern.

She came to a halt, knowing that he would only follow her if he was intent on having this discussion. Marella repressed a sigh as his footsteps drew nearer. Surely she could get through the next few moments without crying or screaming. Surely…

He came up beside her and gently took her arm, guiding her toward her own chambers. We haven’t seen you at court lately, he began. There was a hesitation in his voice and a care in his touch that Marella hadn’t noticed before.

I know, she responded, trying to put him at ease, I’ve been…otherwise occupied. She was hoping that he would let the explanation stand.

Darian was nodding. I understand. You’re a young woman, a woman with her own interests. He opened the door for her and led to her a long settee near the large windows. Once they were seated, he spent a few moments searching for his next words. But you’ve been hiding yourself away, from me, from your aunt, even from your cousin. He brushed her wheat-blond hair out of her sky-blue eyes and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. I wish you would tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart.

Marella pulled away from his penetrating gaze. She didn’t want him to know that she was growing to despise his court, that she was about to die of boredom if she didn’t get to do something other than hide in the gardens all days long. She didn’t want to hurt or insult him, but the truth would do both. The better option was to say nothing at all.

What is it, Marella? he asked, truly concerned now. If you tell me, perhaps I can help you.

Can you change the world for me? she thought to herself. But out loud she said only, There’s nothing wrong. I just need some time to myself. That last part was entirely true, but the first part was an outright lie. She only hoped he would forgive the lie if he discovered it. Her father wouldn’t, but Darian wasn’t her father.

The King nodded and rose, moving toward the door. Just before he left the chamber he turned back to her. When you change your mind, when you feel that you can confide in me, I’ll be here and ready to listen to whatever you need to tell me.

King Darian walked out, closing the door softly behind him. Marella could only stare out the window and try not to burst into tears.

***

She was still sitting there three candlemarks later when her cousin slipped into the room. Boann pranced over to the settee, skirts and hair flying, and practically fell next to Marella. Receiving no response to her entrance, Boann studied her cousin. Princess Boann was still amazed at how alike they were. They had the same hair, though Boann’s had perhaps a little more red in it, the same facial features, and even the same delicate body. If Marella’s eyes were just a shade lighter and a touch more gray, it might have been difficult to tell them apart. The girls could have been twins. Everyone remarked on how alike they seemed.

They even had similar personalities. They were exuberant, independent, and constantly looking for entertainment. They were also both easily bored. At any given moment, one of them was usually up to something, looking for a new way to have fun. At least until recently. Lately Marella had been despondent and moody. It was unlike either girl to be anything other than excited to greet each new day, so Boann had begun to worry about her favorite cousin. She had finally decided to do something about, even if Marella didn’t entirely agree with her plan.

Finally Boann spoke. You missed dinner. Again. Boann almost flinched when she realized she had pointed out the obvious. Inane conversation was beneath her.

Marella nodded. I’ll have a tray brought up later. But her tone was flat and without enthusiasm. It was likely that she would choose simply to retire and leave dining until tomorrow.

Are you sure, Ella? Boann asked, a hint of mystery in her tone. She was trying to entice her cousin, but she knew better than to be too direct when Marella was like this.

Finally looking at her cousin, Marella’s eyes narrowed. Why? Boann was up to something. That much Marella was sure of.

Boann only shrugged. I thought you might want to join for me a little…excursion. Tonight. Seeing her cousin’s look of confusion, Boann lowered her voice. Are you ready to have some fun? She allowed a small smile to flit across her face.

An unladylike snort came from Marella as she flopped back as far as the settee would allow. "I’ve learned that there is no fun to be had here." She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could have a little fun in her dreams. Even those had been dull lately.

Tinkling laughter filled the air and Boann had to fight to control her mirth. After a moment she was able to speak, but the occasional chuckle still escaped her lips. That’s only because you’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd. You need to meet the more…exciting highborns. The ones that actually know how to have a bit of fun.

Now Marella was paying attention. What do you mean? In her experience, none of the highborns were that exciting. At least not exciting enough to justify Boann’s uncontrollable laughter.

Boann lowered her voice even further, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. There’s more to do in Scytha than attend parties. Every once in a while, some of us sneak out and…enjoy ourselves.

Enjoy yourselves how? Marella asked, leaning forward in curiosity. Boann had a wild side, but she’d never expected that her cousin had been sneaking out of the palace.

Her cousin stood and moved toward the door, swishing her skirts as she went. If you want to know, you’ll have to come. She eyed Marella’s blue silk gown with something just short of distain. I’ll bring you something appropriate to wear. Wait here. I’ll come for you after dark.

What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Marella called, but Boann had already disappeared. Marella found herself smiling, excited for the first time in weeks. She glanced down at her very pretty gown and wondered why it wasn’t appropriate for a night of fun. What exactly did Boann have in mind?

Knowing that her cousin wouldn’t tell her until she was good and ready, Marella decided to get some sleep before full dark fell.

Chapter Two

The door creaked open and Boann slipped into the darkened chamber. She closed the door as silently as she was able and moved toward the bed. When she saw her cousin sleeping, Boann had to bite her lip to keep from shouting. Without preamble, she tossed the small bundle she carried on the bed and started shaking Marella’s shoulder.

Get up, Ella, she snapped, keeping her voice low. This is no time to be asleep. The guys won’t wait forever.

Marella sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light. Her night vision had never been very good and it was even worse when she’d just opened her eyes. It was several long moments before she made out her cousin’s face hovering just above her own. When her gaze traveled up to Boann’s hair, her eyes widened in surprise.

What did you do to your hair? she gasped.

Boann laughed lightly as she removed the oversized cap she wore. Her blond hair tumbled around her shoulders, long and untouched. Her grin widened at Marella’s sigh of relief. I tuck it up in my cap so no one notices I’m a girl. She moved back from the bed and did a little twirl, showing off her outfit. Marella’s look of distress had her laughing so hard she gripped her sides and crouched on the floor.

Marella was not amused. What are you wearing? And what happened to your breasts? Boann was normally quite well endowed, but now she looked…flat.

Getting a hold of herself and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Boann stood once more. I’m only wearing what any young boy intent on sneaking out of here would wear. A lot of leather. Her hands roamed down her body for a moment. As for my breasts…you can’t expect to pass as a boy without addressing that particular problem.

What do you mean?

Stand up and I’ll show you. Boann tugged her cousin out of bed and before the fire that had long since burned out.

I don’t know, Marella protested, but it was only because she was searching for something to say.

Boann ignored the comment and started undressing her cousin. As she pulled off Marella’s gown and undergarments, she met only mild resistance. Encouraged, she reached for a pair of leather breeches and held them out for Marella’s inspection.

Holding up her hands to ward off her cousin, a now-naked Marella took several hesitant steps back. I couldn’t. My father would kill me.

Probably, Boann laughed. But you’re father’s not here.

Your father will kill us.

Again Boann laughed gently. My father’s never noticed before. No reason to think he will now. He may be King, but he’s naïve enough to believe that I’m a good little girl.

Not sure what to say to that, Marella held still and allowed Boann to help her into the breeches. As Boann fastened them over Marella’s hips, Marella shifted uncomfortably. They don’t really fit.

Yes they do, Boann assured her. You just have to get used to them. She went to grab a strip of long white cotton that was soft, strong, and breathable.

What’s that for?

You want to pass for a boy, don’t you? Boann challenged, hands on her narrow hips.

Taking a deep breath, Marella nodded. When Boann told her to lift her arms, she obeyed with only the slightest hint of reluctance. Boann wrapped the soft cotton around Marella’s breasts and pulled tight, drawing a gasp from Marella.

Sorry, Boann apologized without really meaning it. It has to be tight, or it won’t work. It’s not so bad and you will get used to it. Any woman who wants to pose as a boy has to do this.

Marella grunted as Boann pulled the cloth tighter. Women who pose as boys must have learned not to breath.

You’ll get used to it, Boann repeated as she helped Marella into a soft cotton shirt. She then tied her cousin into a leather tunic.

Turning to survey herself in the mirror, Marella sighed. I look ridiculous.

You look like a boy. She gathered up two large hats and followed her