In Love and War

Chapter 4 - Traitor

By the time Arya had woken up from where she lay, half covered in hay in the darkest corner of the stables because she couldn't stand to sleep in her room in the bed, light was already streaming into the stalls. But her head was gloriously clear.

She slipped back to her room, somehow avoiding being seen. On the floor was a pendant. On her bedside table lay two pieces of paper. One was the divorce papers, stacked neatly and signed.

The other paper was a note. All it said was "I'm sorry," scrawled in Jacan's handwriting and written in blue ink.

Arya burned it.

The door slammed open and she startled, hand moving to rest on the knife hidden up her sleeve. A wide-eyed servant boy, no older than twelve, stood in the doorway. A bruise lined his jaw.

He bowed hastily. "Your Majesty, you must see this."

Arya frowned, but followed him as he led her to Jacan's rooms. The door was ajar. Arya picked up her pace, wondering what in Sheridan was happening.

Inside was an absolute disaster. Burly men pawed through dressers, throwing shirts and pants onto the floor. The bed was overturned and papers littered the floor. And in the middle of it all, stood a tall, thin man.

"Lord Foley," Arya said coldly. "What in the name of the gods do you think you are doing." It wasn't a question.

The man turned. He reminded her of a snake, with his thin, sharp nose and high cheekbones. He likely had been handsome earlier in his life, but now his skin had sunk into his cheeks and his eyes seemed perpetually dark.

Arya knew with absolute clarity that he wanted her off the throne. He hailed from one of the old families of Altrys, and he'd been used to getting his way under the old king. But Arya would not let him manipulate her, and he hated her for it. It didn't help that she hated him back.

He sent her a smile. "Your Majesty. I took it upon myself to help clean out your husband-" he stopped himself and shook his head with a thin, knowing smile, "your ex-husband's room." Arya mentally cursed. If he knew about the divorce, the whole castle likely knew.

Arya smiled back, but she knew it was cold. "How kind, Lord Foley. But whatever for?"

"You seemed busy sleeping with the animals last night. I took it upon myself to help you with your duties," that you seem to be incapable of doing yourself, he seemed to say. Arya's jaw twitched.

Arya stepped closer to the lord. And another step. She stood almost nose to nose with him before she spoke. "Did you also take it upon yourself to search my room, Lord Foley?"

His eyebrows moved up. "Your Majesty?"

"I think I was perfectly clear, Foley," Arya said.

"I would never go into your rooms without permission." He smiled a condescending smile down at her. "I should think you'd have proof before you fling around accusations like that, Majesty"

Arya paused. "Oh, yes. Of course," she said. "You're right." She reached into her pocket. "Which is why I do." She pulled out a pendant, one that she'd recognized instantly where it had lay on her floor. "Is this not yours?"

She saw the instant he realized he'd been caught. "Where did you find that?"

She smiled. "I think you know exactly where I found it, Lord Foley." She stepped forward and teld it out for him. He took it, beady eyes not leaving hers.

She stepped forward, until they almost touched, and whispered,"If I ever find that you've been in my rooms again, I will split you open from nose to naval, and enjoy every damned second of it, do you understand?" She smiled up at him and let him feel the weight of her blade resting against her stomach. "Consider this your warning."

He was still, hate openly showing in his eyes. "I understand."

She did not move a muscle, just kept those frozen eyes on his.

"Your Majesty," he ground out.

She smiled up at him again, but it was icy, and she let him see the violence in her eyes, the anger. She let him see the slightly unhinged, wild gleam she knew had been in her eyes since the night before.

Then she turned and stalked out of the room.

But at the door, Foley's voice spoke again. "Wait, Your Majesty."

She turned.

He held out a handful of letters, a sly smile slipping across his face. Slowly, she grabbed them, and glanced down.

Jacan's handwriting.

Her head began to pound as she read the beginning of the first one.

Jacan,

I am in debt to you for the valuable information about your armies. When we next meet, we will discuss how to use it to our advantage in war. And as for your wife, leave her to me. I will eliminate her, and none will be any the wiser. And finally, you shall be in line to be king.

My daughter says hello, and that she misses you--

Arya stopped reading with a ragged breath.

It was signed by the king of the Kaltlands.

She had to lock her knees to keep upright, to keep from showing the devastation that wracked her.

Slowly, she looked up at Lord Foley. "Do you think I did not know this?" she spoke, and had to force her voice to be flat. "Do you think I was oblivious?" she sneered. "Men are so single-minded, so stupid, so fanciful. He was no different." She lifted her chin. "Next time you want to play spy, Lord Foley, do a better job. This attempt was pathetic."

She strode out on unsteady legs.

She'd lied. She had not known. And she hated herself for it, for being so utterly, absolutely stupid. For being such a besotted fool. For being so blinded by love.

Jacan was a traitor. He had known that assassin was coming for her to "eliminate" her. He had given her army secrets to the enemy. Army secrets, which in the Kaltlands' hands, would absolutely decimate her kingdom and her people. 

He had ensured war.

No, not war. He had ensured a bloodbath. 

* * * * *

HAHA I feel so evil. 

So what do you think? Absolutely hating Jacan yet? 

Psst. Nightshade's in the next chapter ;) You didn't hear it from me. 

Have a wonderful weekend!