The Lost Prince (The Nihryst Book 2)

by Cait Marie

  “You think Michel knows where it is?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I think his father does.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Gwyn said, pacing at the end of Shane’s bed.

  Shane just sat there, staring. He didn’t know what to say because she was right. For five days, they’d waited for symptoms of the Kald to appear. Other than feeling a bit run down, she felt as healthy as ever.

  When Shane was infected, he noticed the symptoms less than a full day later. William showed symptoms within a couple days. Regardless of the strain, it should’ve made her much sicker by now. She didn’t even have a fever.

  “Maybe we were wrong, and it can’t be transferred that way,” he suggested.

  “No,” she said. “All the research shows it can.”

  “Maybe it’s time we go visit O’ Chwedlau,” he said softly. When Gwyn stopped moving, he pushed himself to his unstable feet. Gripping the bed for support, he made his way to where she stood.

  Since William’s funeral, she hadn’t left the castle. She’d stayed by Shane’s side all week, and he knew she was having a difficult time. First, Marley was killed, leaving Gwyn to an empty apartment. With her father gone too, he understood why she didn’t want to go back. But sooner or later, she’d need to go home. No matter how much he loved having her around.

  Shane pulled her into a hug and whispered, “It’s time.”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “I know.”

  After dressing properly, he let Gwyn help him down to a carriage he’d ordered to take them to O’ Chwedlau. They soon walked through the hidden courtyard and down to the church basement. A smaller group than he’d first seen occupied the space. When they noticed the two entering, an older woman stood and rushed to them, offering assistance. Shane had no doubt he looked ill at that point. Perspiration dotted his brow, and Gwyn had supported most of his weight as they left the carriage on the outskirts of the square.

  “Thank you, Aunt Telia,” Gwyn said.

  They helped Shane into a chair before the woman pulled her niece into a fierce hug. Shane watched as Gwyn sagged into her arms. When she finally let go and Telia moved to grab them some water, Shane lifted his hand to Gwyn’s and squeezed her fingers. She looked down at him with tears in her eyes. He knew this was hard for her, but other than his need for answers, it was important she see her aunt. If anyone understood the pain of losing William, it was the older man’s sister.

  When Gwyn sat beside him, her aunt approached once more.

  “Your Majesty, you should not have come all this way,” Telia said.

  “I have some questions, and I didn’t know where else to go,” Shane said. As she poured him a glass of water and sat at the table, he continued, “O’ Chwedlau has been around for decades, correct?”

  Telia grinned. “Over a century, my boy.”

  Her improper manner was why he knew going there was the right choice. They recognized and supported him as the new king, but they were not afraid to speak openly with him. They were straightforward, which was what he needed most.

  “Tell me?” he asked, knowing a story waited on the tip of her tongue.

  “It started after the Nihryst were cursed and sent away,” she began. “You see, they’d become this band of thieves before they turned into immortals, but everyone knows that part of the story. What people don’t know is that they were stealing from the king and noblemen to help the poor citizens of Ferda. And then, for all of Detmarya.”

  Shane took a sip of his water and nodded. He’d heard most of that from Phillip when they’d returned from finding the Nihryst.

  “What even fewer people know is that when they were cursed and sent away, it didn’t stop.”

  Sitting up straighter, Shane rested his forearms on the table. “What do you mean?”

  “When they went to war,” Telia continued, looking from Shane to Gwyn and back, “Loxley's younger sister, Willa, carried on his legacy. She created O’ Chwedlau in their honor. This was the place he and his crew had used, so she came here and started doing the same. She started one of the biggest underground rebellions this kingdom has ever had, all in hopes of her brother one day returning to take command.”

  Shane glanced at Gwyn, but she didn't show any signs of surprise. She already knew the story. Of course, she did. She was Willa's descendant. He used the end of his sleeve to wipe at his brow.

  "When were you infected?" Telia asked suddenly in a quiet voice so that none of the others around the room would hear.

  "Almost a couple months now..." he said, twisting the cup back and forth on the table.

  He couldn't meet the woman's gaze. She'd just lost her brother from the same illness. Shane had been infected mere weeks after William. It might not be the same strain, but it was progressing in the same sense, just faster it seemed. Which meant he didn't have much time. By the looks on their faces, he knew they were thinking the same.

  "I'm not here about that," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "In your history, is there anything about a treaty? Something other than the one with Rayerna we all know about, I mean."

  When he finally looked back up to Telia, she regarded him with an odd expression. She stood and moved to an old, small bookcase in the corner he hadn't noticed. She searched in the dim candlelight for a moment before returning with an ancient book covered in dust. As she sat it on the table in front of Shane, Gwyn got up to look over his shoulder.

  Telia brushed off the dust to reveal two flowers entwined: a rose and a yellow flower Shane couldn’t name. He traced a finger over it.

  “The Heulwen,” Telia said, sitting back in her seat.

  Shane’s mouth dropped open. He carefully opened the cover to look inside.

  “There is a story,” Telia began, “one we do not speak of about the great war with Rayerna. One that tells just how intertwined our histories are. The two flowers represent the two kingdoms.”

  Shane’s pulse quickened. “The treaty?”

  “The story has missing pages. It’s vague and hard to decipher, but it is believed that there is another treaty.” Telia put a hand over the book, and he met her gaze. “The one you’ve no doubt learned about and have possession of in your castle is incomplete. The real treaty goes beyond the peace between kingdoms.”

  “How?” Gwyn asked.

  “According to the story, there was a deal made between the two kings,” Telia said. “One that essentially gave Detmarya all the power. It is said that King Henri found the lost prince, and the false King of Rayerna signed over his rights to keep him quiet. King Henri hid all the evidence, kept the secret of the true heir, and let the pretender sit on the throne without any real power.”

  “The lost prince,” Shane whispered, his thoughts going back to his father’s ramblings the past few weeks. Emyr had mentioned the story and the history of the kingdom, but Shane hadn’t truly listened. He thought his father had gone mad.

  After everything with the Nihryst, he should’ve known to not brush aside the stories. Ada never would have.

  That thought brought forth another. If the story of the lost prince was real, then the Heulwen surely existed as well. And if it did, he knew his sister would travel to the ends of the world to find it.

  He closed the book and ran his hand over the painted leather. His fingers paused over the rose, and his breath caught in his throat as a memory came flooding back. The same memory that flashed through his mind when leaving the east wing with Melanie.

  Shane ran from his father’s study, his cheeks wet with tears. He bumped into someone in the hall and didn’t bother to look up. He mumbled an apology and made to step around them, but a strong hand grabbed him and turned him back around. His mother knelt before him.

  She didn’t speak. She simply wiped his tears away, gentle on the cheek that was no doubt red from his father’s slap. Pulling him into her arms, she kissed the side of his head as she lifted him and stood.

  He didn’t ask where they were going as she ca
rried him away from the hall. Instead, he wrapped his small arms around her neck and held on tight. His sweet mother always made everything better. She rubbed at his back as she walked up the stairs. In his room, she closed and locked the door.

  She sat on the floor against the far side of his bed before finally asking, “What happened?”

  Shane sniffed, not raising his head from her shoulder. “Papa’s mad.”

  She held him closer. “Why?”

  “I was looking at his books.” He didn’t understand. He’d looked through the books before in the study and the library, and he’d never gotten in trouble for it. “He said I couldn’t play with the red one, but I wasn’t playing. I was just trying to read about the other prince.”

  “What prince, sweetheart?” His mother gently pushed him back to see his face.

  “I don’t know his name,” Shane said, shaking his head. “I was trying to find it, but it just kept saying he was lost. I thought it was the story you told me and Ada.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “My smart boy.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Then, Papa came in and started yelling and—and he—” His words broke off as the tears began to fall again. He’d seen his father angry before, but the king had never hurt him.

  “Shh. It’s all right,” his mother said, pulling him close again. “You’re safe. I promise.”

  “What if he gets mad again?”

  “I have something for you. Something that will remind you that you always have power. No one can take it away from you completely.” She wiped his tears away. “You have to keep it secret though. Not even Phillip or Adalina can know.”

  Something about the long marble hall felt off. Ada couldn’t remember a time when the Rayernian castle was so quiet—so unwelcoming. The normal busy corridors teeming with life were empty. A darkness settled over the areas, causing a shiver to race down Ada’s spine.

  “Something is wrong,” Phillip whispered at her side.

  She nodded but didn’t speak. They followed the guard through the halls and into the throne room, but the king and queen were not in there. Alone at the top of the dais sat Michel, lounging as if he had nothing better to do. Ada let out a sigh of relief. It would be easier to talk openly with him than his father. If she could convince Michel of her theory, he could support her when speaking to King Samson.

  Other than the two guards at either side of the dais, the room was clear of people. They stopped before Michel and inclined their heads after their leading guard presented them. He left, and Ada looked around again in concern.

  “Where are the king and queen?” she asked with slight hesitation.

  “Adalina,” Michel said, standing from his father’s throne and descending the two steps. “They’re a bit tied up at the moment. How can I help you?”

  She glanced at Phillip then back. “Are you aware your men nearly had me killed yesterday?”

  Michel’s eyes widened as he closed the distance between them, looking her up and down. “Of course not! What happened?”

  She’d hoped he’d had nothing to do with it, but hearing it confirmed released some of the tension in her shoulders. “They chased Lee and I through the forest, shooting at us. We were trapped in a cave near the lake and nearly drowned.”

  “Thank the stars you’re all right.” He pulled her into a hug. She relaxed against him, taking in the familiar comfort and fighting back tears. When he took a step back, he said, “I will take care of this immediately.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not the reason we are here.”

  “Oh?” Michel moved back up to the throne and took a seat.

  “Michel,” Ada started, “do you know where the Heulwen is?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. Her stomach twisted with unease, and she looked to Phillip. That wasn’t a reaction she’d expected. She’d assumed Michel would deny it, then she could explain how she thought his father knew where it was. She thought back to the clearing in the forest near the gardens, her stomach twisting as her suspicions of his father began to unravel in her mind. Phillip stepped closer, brushing the backs of their hands together.

  “We have already talked about this,” Michel said, drawing her attention back to him. “The flower doesn’t exist. It’s nothing but a fairy tale.”

  “I know it exists, Michel.” She stood taller, hoping to appear more confident than she felt. She prayed he didn’t call her bluff. “I have the proof, but it is no longer where it is supposed to be.”

  The prince leaned forward. His mouth shifted from a half-smile to a more malicious grin—a look she’d never seen on her friend.

  That, more than anything, frightened her.

  “Fine,” he said. “Let's say we do have it. What then?”

  She blinked. King Samson didn’t just know where it lay hidden. He and his family had it in their possession. They’d likely had it the entire time if that clearing was, in fact, where it had been.

  “What do you mean?” Phillip asked.

  Ada’s heart pounded. “Michel, people are dying…”

  Michel stood once more and clasped his hands behind his back. “So, you want me to just hand it over? To the kingdom who tried to murder my people—who wants to start a war?”

  Her mouth dropped open. She glanced to Phillip who shook his head with a slight shrug. He didn’t understand either. They’d stopped the massacre and locked up her father. They took away his power.

  Michel knew her father better than most. He knew she and Shane were nothing like him. They didn’t want war. They’d done everything in their power to stop it.

  Walking down the steps, he passed her, saying, “You’re not getting the flower.”

  “You do have it.” She turned to follow. “Michel, please. You don’t understand.”

  He whirled around, making her freeze mid-step. Mere inches from her, anger radiated from him. “Oh, I understand, Princess. I know more than you think, actually.” As he continued, he circled her. “Your father wanted me dead. He tried to break the treaty and start a war.”

  “Do you have any idea what I went through to stop him?” Ada snapped. “What Shane did? He risked his and his friends’ lives to save you. Someone died trying to get you out!”

  “Yes, somebody died trying to get me out of the castle. But so many more would have died at your father’s hands. He did this.”

  “I am not my father,” she whispered. “You know this. You know me.”

  His breath tickled her cheek as he leaned in close. “I thought I did. With all of our history, I thought… it doesn’t matter what I thought.”

  He turned abruptly and began walking toward the large oak doors.

  “What do you want?” Ada yelled after him. A guard approached her, putting a hand around her arm before she could move. She ignored the man and kept her eyes on Michel’s retreating form. “What do you want for the flower?”

  Michel stilled—his back toward her. He said something to a guard too quietly for her to hear. Then, he glanced over his shoulder. “We will discuss this tomorrow, Adalina. I have business to attend to.”

  After he was gone, the guards pulled Ada and Phillip in the same direction.

  “Where are you taking us?” she asked, trying to pull free.

  The guard who’d led them to the throne room said, “We have been instructed to bring you upstairs, where you will stay until tomorrow. Dinner will be served in your rooms.”

  Without another word, they were brought up to a familiar chamber—the same rooms she had stayed in each summer with her brother. Where she’d dreamed of a future in that very castle with the man refusing to help them.

  Shane stood from the table. “I need to get back to the castle, but thank you.”

  Telia got to her feet and hugged Gwyn. They said their goodbyes and were headed toward the exit when the door opened. A man walked down the stairs, and the room stilled. Silence filled the air for one second then another.

  “Lee?” Shane asked.

&n
bsp; The man looked from him to the others in the room, as if momentarily confused. “Your Majesty, I did not expect to see you here. I have more supplies and was coming to see if a few people from O’ Chwedlau could help distribute them.”

  Shane opened his mouth but was cut off.

  “The crew is unloading and bringing a lot of it to the castle as well,” Loxley said quickly, as if uncomfortable. Shane knew how big of a deal it was for the man to come to the church himself—what it took for him to return to the place he was caught.

  “The flower?” Gwyn asked.

  Loxley shook his head. Shane didn’t understand why they were back so soon if they hadn’t found it. He’d received a letter from Adalina only the day before stating they’d returned to Rayerna after visiting the witch in the Sannwyn Isles. “Where is my sister?”

  At that, the immortal sighed and looked to the ground. His shoulders dropped in defeat. “Adalina refused to leave Rayerna. She is convinced the flower is there.”

  “And you just left her there?” Gwyn voiced the anger Shane felt.

  It warred with the fear growing inside him. “Phillip?”

  Loxley finally met his eyes. “He stayed with her.”

  Shane let out a breath. Of course. Phillip would never leave Adalina. Shane remembered how distraught Phillip was when she took off the first time. Guilt had eaten them both up as she went off by herself. Now, Shane knew the truth of why he’d stayed in Detmarya instead of insisting on going with her. He’d stayed for Shane. Because he loved him.

  Regardless of Phillip’s feelings about Shane, he’d always been there for his sister. And Shane knew he always would be. It was the one thing giving him comfort as his symptoms grew heavier.

  “She insisted I go,” Loxley said in a solemn tone. “We need to keep searching for a way to break the curse, and she made it very clear she no longer wanted anything to do with that.”