Bounty Hunter (The Black Tulip Chronicles #1)

5. Ikar

Chapter 5

Ikar

N adiette and I stroll slowly through the main city street, arm in arm, trailed by four guards. The streets are perfectly cobbled, the storefronts tidy and clean, windows shining and filled with goods to sell. The heady scent of flowers trailing from upper balconies hovers in the air around us as we stroll by. It’s an almost unbelievable contrast to what I experienced on the last convoy, and so many other patrols just like it. I push down the nightmarish memories and nod and greet my people as we walk, and she does the same. They look at us with hope shining in their eyes, and Nadiette seems to glow beside me.

I admit we make an excellent couple, and I’m confident she will step into her role as queen smoothly. We’ve worked as a team, steady and unbeatable for years now, so it’s only natural for us to marry. The people have grown to love her more and more, as I do. She is a classic beauty, her green eyes filled with a youthful joy, and her hair seems spun of auburn fire. A deep contrast to the white gowns she wears, specifically made to compliment her mark, as is customary for Originators. Today, she wears a gown with flowy skirts, a wide belt wraps around a fitted bodice, and a row of pearl buttons lead up to her neck. The white, silky fabric gathers elegantly at the tops of her shoulders and drops like the bow of a curtain to the bend of her low back, revealing fair skin blemished only by her mark. Her hair is braided intricately to the side, revealing the easily recognizable mark of the Originators—a half sun. My own wardrobe seems muted compared to her assortment of pure white ensembles since I prefer darker greens, blues, and browns. Beside me, she appears to shine all the more.

We stop at a favorite bakery of ours with small tables in a front garden area where tall bushes have grown and been pruned into a privacy wall for customers. I pull out a chair for Nadiette at our usual table.

“You seem distracted today.” She rests her perfect chin on her small hand and waits.

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “Another bad patrol last night,” I say, as images of the five soldiers who were killed last night come to mind.

She purses her lips and calls me back to the present, “It must have been horrendous. I feel so terrible for their families.” Compassion fills her eyes, and my defenses go up.

“I’d rather not discuss it.” My voice is hard, hoping she’ll change the subject. At times, though, she can be relentless, always going on about how we can figure this out, trying to be positive. Most of the time, I appreciate her positive outlook, but in regard to this, she has no idea the fault rests entirely with me. I wait for it and try not to clench my jaw when she begins exactly as I knew she would.

She places one of her hands over mine where it rests on the table and gives it a light squeeze, looking deeply at me with her vivid green eyes. “We’ll figure this out together, my love. We are the two most powerful people in the kingdom. We will rule together, and with our power, we will protect our people. A perfect match. And who knows, maybe the combination of our power will produce an heir so powerful that the kingdom will be rid of gloam forever.” She says it gently, but there’s a sureness behind it.

I merely nod, a token to keep her happy and ease her worry. But she doesn’t realize that the only person who can figure this out is me . Heir or no heir, the responsibility for my kingdom is mine.

A couple of sweetened drinks and fresh pastries are brought to our table, and the conversation switches to lighter, more comfortable topics. But I can’t help but feel like the worst sort of person for enjoying a day out with a lovely woman after five of my men died the night before, their families currently in mourning. The pastry sits untouched on the table before me as Nadiette carries on with the one-sided conversation between us.

Soon enough, we return to the castle, and she walks with me to my office.

“Mind if I join you this afternoon?” She looks at me, a hint of worry creasing her brow. I feel a stab of guilt at how quiet I’ve been.

I smile wider than I want to, but I truly do welcome her presence. “Not at all. I have no meetings.”

It’s become common for us to spend occasional afternoons together when we are free from our regular responsibilities and meetings. Me, focused on the workings of my kingdom that only I can oversee, her supervising Originator rotations for patrols, reading a book, or writing letters. I take a seat behind my desk and watch with a smile as she sets aside decorum and curls her feet beneath her skirts, getting comfortable against the side of the sitting couch and opening a book she pulls from her fancy bag. I return to my work.

Today, I am reviewing the ledgers that our master of the treasury has submitted for my final review. I work through the numbers, not taking a break until my eyes burn. I look up when I hear a giggle from Nadiette on the couch. She’s still immersed in her book, but I appreciate the companionship of one of my closest friends. Seems to make the tedious work lighter. I hear a knock at the door, and a guard looks in.

“Jethonan is here to see you, my lord.”

It’s not unusual for Jethonan to visit—he is my second in command in regard to the workings of the kingdom. I simply nod, and the door is opened wider for Jethonan as he walks through, straight to my desk with two thick books in his arms. I’m pleased to see that there are no burn holes through his robes this afternoon. Hopefully, that means he’s given up on the healing potion concoction.

“My lord, I’ve found…”

As he passes her in a rush, Nadiette looks up from her book with a smile. “Jethonan. Good afternoon.”

He startles slightly, pausing halfway to putting his books on my desk. When he realizes she’s there, he gathers them back in his arms and stands, a fleeting look of concern crossing his face.

“I missed you in my hurry to speak with the king, forgive me.” He bows slightly before he returns his attention to me.

“A word in private, Your Majesty?”

I nod. “Of course.”

Nadiette places her feet back to the floor and slips her book back into her bag before standing gracefully. The layers of her gown slide perfectly back into place, and she glides across the floor.

“I’m meeting with my Originators soon anyway, so I’ll leave the two of you to your meeting.” Then her gaze meets mine. “Tomorrow, Ikar?” Her eyes glint with a flirtatious eagerness.

“Yes, I’ll meet you at the stables.”

“Wonderful.” She smiles and slips from the room, leaving Jethonan and I alone.

I wait until the door clicks closed and get straight to the point. I feel the thump of my heart grow hard with anxiety. “What have you found?”

He proceeds to set the books on my desk with a heavy thump . “I’ve found the conductor.” I can hear the excitement thrumming in his voice. He slides the first book off the one beneath and flips it open.

He uses magic to find the correct page, and the pages whir by, creating a slight breeze before my face. The fact that he has enough power to pull magic for a task of convenience shows how powerful he really is. Most people are forced to carefully preserve their magic these days.

“Here it is.” He taps a page filled with an artfully drawn flower. I’m not one to know the names of plants and flowers, but it looks like a tulip. A deep purple tulip, mid-bloom, almost black in color.

“A… purple flower… is our conductor?”

“It may look like a simple purple flower, but this is a Black Tulip .”

I tilt my head and inspect it a little further. I can see how the name fits, I guess. The purple is so deep that in parts it does appear black. I’m still not sure why the name of this flower matters so much, and I’d rather get to the point.

“What do we do with the flower?” My mind is already spinning plans to get a search party together. Should be easy enough .

“I’m not finished yet.” He flips a page with a snap. “Look at this.”

This one depicts a woman dressed in a beautiful black gown. Both her hands are outstretched, in one hovers an orb of shining white light, which I assume is lucent magic. In the other rests a small white bird holding a black tulip in its beak. I have no idea how to interpret it. The book itself is written in the old language, and while I know some, I don’t know enough to read the page in a reasonable amount of time. I’m growing frustrated with Jethonan’s dramatic style of sharing the much awaited information.

“Get to the point,” I growl.

“This is the point, my lord.” He taps the picture. “You need a woman marked with a black tulip.” His eyes are wide with excitement. “ They are the conductors, the recyclers, the powerhouses, whatever you want to call them.”

Pieces begin to come together, and I wonder now if the women he’s talking about are the same that my father and his before him warned us away from. If it was anyone but Jethonan, I’d have slammed the book shut and sent them away. But I trust him, and my kingdom is in such dire straits I force myself to stay silent and listen, instead of argue.

“According to these books, Black Tulips have the unique ability to bridge their magic with a king, which then connects them directly to the magic of the kingdom. Doing so allows their magic to provide an astronomical amount of lucent for your people and reduces the gloam, through your bond to your kingdom. It offers protection and improves… everything, it seems. In fact, through the immense power of his Tulip wife, your grandfather four hundred years ago was able to magically banish and imprison his brother who attempted to take the th rone. Can you imagine that sort of power?” His eyes are bright with excitement.

My hope plummets. “What is their official name?” I ask, but I already know. So much for my search party plan to find a simple flower. Of course it’s not that simple, and if I’m right, there will be no search party at all.

He frowns, appearing to be confused about why I need that random piece of information.

“A singular Tulip is also called a Queen of the Night, the group of them Queens of the Night. Have you heard of them?”

I slide my hand down my face, weary. This can’t be right. This can’t be his solution.

“My lord?” Jethonan asks, confused.

“I can never, never bridge with a Tulip , as you call them. They were killed for a reason.”

He stands so still it’s like I literally sucked the joyous air from his billowing sails.

I continue, “As I’m sure you’ve learned through your reading, kings used to bridge with Queens of the Night. It was common and encouraged. Then a seer saw a Black Tulip bridged with our enemy and our kingdom destroyed.” I give him a pointed look.

“Ah, you speak of the seer vision, which unfortunately, triggered the hunt and murder of the Tulips. You are correct that the vision showed a Tulip bridging with an enemy, which led to the downfall of lucent magic and our kingdom.” He says it all rather quickly and to the point. “But we all know that seer visions are quite subjective and are rarely accurately predictive of the future. And just a theory on my part, but I believe that enemy is still magically banished. Though for how long, I don’t know, with the state of lucent and gloam. ”

He isn’t wrong about seer visions not being accurate, but to completely disregard a seer vision is also unwise. Finally, I look up and say heavily, “There is a reason they are named after the night, is there not?” He stares at me blankly, so I continue in an overly patient voice, “Night… darkness… gloam creatures… evil…?”

He snorts and then he leans forward and laughs, his brown hair swinging with the motion. I’m not amused. I’m about to kick him out of my office when he finally stops and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that explanation is the reason our world is being overtaken by gloam magic. It’s ridiculous.” He waves a hand through the air like it’s preposterous. “And unfortunate for those Tulips who were needlessly murdered. The past cannot be undone,” he frowns and then lifts a finger, “but it can be prevented from happening again. Now, moving on.”

He opens the second book, and the pages whir before my face again. These must have come from his personal library because I swear I get a hint of that rancid fruit healing potion he was working on last week, and I lean away. The pages settle, and he takes a second to find the right section, then he spins the book toward me and points.

“It says here that magic keeps at least five Tulips in existence at a time.”

“Your point?”

“You, all of us, are in a desperate situation. You either take a calculated risk by bridging with a Tulip or the kingdom continues to decline beneath the weight of gloam while people continue to die. You and the Tulips were made to bridge . You, as king, were intended to be a protector to them, and in return, they keep lucent magic strong and gloam in check.” My brows pull lower, not liking that what he says makes sense. Even with my darkening expression, he continues. And this is why I chose him as my advisor. “Now, may I be honest?”

“Aren’t you always?” I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

“Only a figure of speech, my lord.” He smiles tightly and quickly continues. “Magic chooses the Tulips, one or two out of thousands may stray from the duty instilled in their souls and turn evil. But if there is any sort of power struggle to worry about, I’d say it would more likely begin with the kings.”

I ponder what he says for a moment. I don’t like that it makes sense. If I allow it, it will pick at the strings of doubt freshly cut by Jethonan and quickly unravel the comfortable and familiar beliefs about the balance of power and magic I’ve been taught since I was a boy. I was raised to be the king of my kingdom. The one with absolute power, authority, and control. Things aren’t perfect, we struggle at times, but the inner workings of my kingdom run like a well-oiled wagon wheel. Beside the fact that it’s practically disintegrating at the edges from gloam. I clench my jaw. I admit that the reality that I can’t control the strength of magic in my kingdom any more than I can manipulate the suns in the sky has me frustrated. After years of dedicated learning and effort, years of weapons training, and years of battle experience, according to Jethonan, I’m to completely rely on and trust some unknown woman to save my kingdom, simply because she’s marked with a flower. I don’t like it.

“I’ll think about it.”

Just saying so twists my chest into a knot. He nods and gathers his books, chattering about needing to get back to another project he’s working on, but I don’t really hear him as my thoughts spin and churn. Could I do it? Could I search out a Tulip, marry her, bridge with her? If what I’ve been told is a lie, what have they been told? What about Nadiette? And would the King’s Council ever agree to a plan such as this?