Jealously

Charyic was not pleased to be the reason her husband was going to war. When Malav had told her that he knew the price of claiming her was war she had asked why he would choose it. He had laughed and said he expected the war to be with Light Bringers or the armies of the south. But regardless, the war had been promised to Malies and Malav would give him a war that was pleasing.

Malav was busy now, his hands full with preparations. At first, she had stayed by his side but the nobles he met with had hated her on sight. She was the reason for the war after all, and while they supported him, they did not disagree with his father concerning her. Malav had eventually been asked why his wife was permitted to linger in his war rooms when she could offer nothing but distraction. When he relayed what Malies had said, that she was to be kept as close as his staff and guarded jealously, the nobleman suggested she be kept at a nearby fortress. It was little more than a thick-walled barracks, but it had quarters intended for commanders that could be made suitable for her and she could be locked into them with his staff and kept guarded.

Charyic had protested but Malav had agreed to it. She was a distraction, and he wanted her and the child she would give him safe. He assured her she would have his staff so she could speak as she wished and he would have a servant found to keep her company. She wanted Cerik, but he gave her a lady’s maid who came highly recommended from one of the nobles, as a companion.

Puryil made the confinement bearable. Letters from Malav were sparse and visits, when she could badger him into them with her own letters, were brief.

They had been locked in together for four months, and Charyic’s belly was noticeably rounding and Puryil had sent for fabric to make some newer, larger dresses. It was delivered and Charyic decided to have a look at the bolts to see what Puryil had chosen. A slip of paper peeking out of the folds of one caught her eye.

It was immediately slipped into Puryil’s pocket and dismissed as an inconsequential missive from the merchant. An excuse that might have worked for an ignorant Lady, but Charyic was well aware that merchants neither tuck messages into their goods nor do inconsequential messages get snatched away so quickly. Being a thief, it wasn’t difficult for Charyic to slip the note out of the woman’s pocket in the course of the day.

Charyic tucked herself away almost gleefully to read it. Picking a pocket unnoticed had always been a skill she was proud of. The letter was from Puryil’s former mistress. Thanking her for the latest tidbit of information and encouraging her to keep drawing more from the w***e.

Charyic was still sitting stunned when Puryil came to bring her dinner. The maid had not denied it. She was tasked with sending her mistress information to help her seduce the Black Prince. He needed a wife of rank and station. Charyic stoved the girl’s head in with the staff.

She had insisted on having some clothes she felt comfortable in, clothes suited to a thief, they barely fit now but she put them on regardless. At nightfall, she slipped out of the window and stole a horse.

Her husband was still a mere stone’s throw from her planning his war. Charyic slipped along the walls and to the window outside of his chamber unseen. She slipped in silently and saw him with a lovely woman in his bed, laughing and talking.

“It’s a shame you chose a wife that has so little to offer you, my beautiful Malav. Wouldn’t I make a better queen?” Her smile was brilliant and mischievous, she made Charyic look like a scullery maid in comparison.

“Perhaps, but I chose my wife. By the common law, we are married until we both choose to dissolve the union.” Charyic watched him stroke her face from the shadows. “My wife would never give her permission.”

“Mmm, sweet Prince, there are other ways. Women die in childbirth every day.” She kissed him, “You could give the child to Malies as you promised and be free to marry as you pleased.”  

Before he could answer her there was a pounding on the chamber door. Charyic nearly held her breath as he passed within feet of her.

“Your Majesty! You wished to be told when the bird changed into a man. He’s healing himself now.”

“Good. I will be there momentarily.” Malav’s voice sounded smug and very pleased.

Esus. He was in bed with another woman, discussing killing her when she bore his child, and he was torturing Esus. Charyic almost stepped out of the shadows and beat him with his own staff. But she knew he was stronger and would probably win that fight, so she waited. He dressed and kissed his lady before he left.

Charyic kept waiting until the lady had settled into the pillows contentedly and then she slipped from the shadows and strangled her with the staff. She pressed it down across her throat and stared into the woman’s eyes as she clawed at and tried to move the staff. Charyic held it with all her weight, all her force, until the woman stopped struggling, and even then she waited to lift it, until she was sure. She took a sharp letter opener from the desk in the adjoining room and used it to carefully carve ‘dissolved’ on the woman’s forehead.

Now, she would find Esus. The staff was warm in her hand as if it enjoyed being used for killing. She didn’t think Malav had ever bothered to use it.