by Maisey Yates
“Yes,” Agnes said. “A very late night. Thank you for the romantic meal, and the time at the baths. I... I very much think that it... Enhanced that.”
She felt uncomfortable sharing so much, even though she was only sort of playing a part. But was she? And now Lazarus wanted her to be his wife in truth. So what did that mean. What did any of it mean.
“He and Alexius are going riding today,” Tinley said. “Brotherly bonding. You have no idea how much Alexius has felt... Lazarus’s loss weighed heavily on him. For all of his life.”
Guilt started to chew at Agnes.
“The loss of both of his brothers... It’s been a shadow over him. Over his life. It took a lot to get him to where he is now. And he... He really is wonderful.”
“Lazarus is not an easy man. Because he didn’t have an easy time. Life in the wood is not easy. It’s very difficult, and he had to figure out a way to survive. As a young boy who lost his family the way that he did. And in his mind, he did lose them. As soon as he was in the wood, he was beyond their reach. He... He doesn’t know softness.”
And neither did Agnes. Not really.
“And you? He saved you and brought you into the forest? How has that been for you?”
“Good. As long as I’ve been with him.”
And it was true. She was happy when she was with him. So why couldn’t they be together. Really be together. He had proposed marriage, and she knew that it had nothing to do with love. Not for him. But she did love him. It was the true thing that bonded her to him, not honor, not anything else. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps it could be enough.
One thing she knew, the sooner they finished here the better. She did not like lying to Tinley. And she did not know how to reconcile her feelings for Lazarus with the growing discomfort over what it was he planned for their hosts.
For there was more to that man she loved than revenge. She knew it.
But she did not know if she could ever make him believe it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“A GOOD DAY to ride,” Alexius said, as they reached the top of the mountain and looked down over the castle, over the wood, over everything.
“Yes,” Lazarus agreed. For while he might have to be guarded around his brother, he would not lie about something so obvious. It was a good day for a ride.
“What do you see when you look at it?”
Lazarus glanced at his brother. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“The kingdom. What do you see when you look down upon it. Do you see your home? Or is the wood your home?”
“That is a complicated question,” Lazarus said.
“I had a sense that it was. I’m trying to understand, from you, Lazarus, what it is you wish.”
“Why do you think I wish anything?”
“Because you’re not a man of inaction. And yet you have been sitting in the palace enjoying my hospitality and... And that’s all. Your fiancée is lovely, and I heard that you greatly enjoyed the dinner that was set out for you, and I’m pleased to hear that. But I wonder... I do wonder if there is more. More that you want. More that you need.”
And this was the moment then. To speak. To state his intent. And above all else, Lazarus was a man of honor. And so while it was one thing to sit and engage in some manner of subterfuge without speaking of what it was he wanted, he would not lie. Not directly. He would give his brother a chance to face him head-on. And he would do so now.
“What do you know the history of Liri?”
“As much as any schoolchild. But undoubtedly more. Our father made certain that I knew everything.”
“And yet you did not know there was a kingdom in the woods.”
“No,” Alexius said, his voice faltering. “I did not.”
“And have you asked yourself why that is? Why he would want to keep it a secret. Why it would not be spoken of widely. Why is it that none of you living in this kingdom know that there was another kingdom within it?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“They stole this land. You know that this place was settled broadly by Greeks, Italians, others from that region of Europe.”
“Yes. There was a lot of land and ample opportunity here.”
“Yes. A great and vast wilderness. And what became of that? It was tamed. And what happened to the people who lived here first?”
“I confess that I don’t know.”
“They went into the woods, Alexius. And there they have waited. For something. For justice of some kind. And I have been charged with ensuring that justice is done.”
“And what, to you, is justice?”
“My people were driven from their homes. They were driven from this land. They have no say in this government. They do not have the ruling body they once had. For our great-grandfather... He was threatened by it.”
“Tell me everything. Show me everything. Lazarus, I will not stand by and let injustice be done. If there’s one thing I’ve always been certain of, it’s that our family was cursed. Two brothers going to the woods and neither come out? There’s a reason for that. There has to be. There has always had to be. It’s a punishment. And I’m certain of it.
“This history is a blight on our family,” Alex said. “I want... I want to do something to fix it.”
“Do you?” And Lazarus could not pinpoint quite why he had imagined his brother would be a villain in this. Except... Except. He had not wanted to think that anyone in his family could be anything more than that. On some level he had wanted to believe that the only way to be true, the only way to be good, was to stick to that Spartan life he’d been led into. That there was nothing more beyond the wood, and there could not be. Not and also have goodness. Not and also be right.
He had wanted to believe...
He had wanted to believe that the only answer was to destroy his family.
The only answer.
Why?
This was the only time in his life he’d ever had the chance to ask someone—outside the wood—who had been there. Who knew.
Alexius might have been a young child, but he’d been there the day Lazarus had gone. He had been a witness to it.
But the words stuck in his throat. Part of him preferred the legend.
Didn’t legends exist for a reason?
But he was no coward. And he knew Agnes, honest, forthright and bold, would never sit in a lie when she could be certain of the truth.
It shamed him, that he had been tempted to cloak himself in a story.
And so he spoke.
“What happened?” Lazarus asked. “The day that I disappeared?”
Alexius’s face became shaded. “Our mother... Our mother changed after that. She blamed me. As she blamed me for the loss of Dionysus. Our father too. They were never the same.”
“And you?”
Alexius lowered his head, and the raw emotion Lazarus could feel coming from his brother in waves was a shock. He had not expected him to have feelings—especially not so deep—about something that had happened so long ago. “I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to protect you and... We were children. We were children and you were lost. And I felt deeply that it was my fault, and also... That I could not have stopped it. I didn’t know. But losing two brothers the way that I did, I was afraid... You know it felt like it must be my fault. It did. I was devastated to lose you,” Alex said. “And I know that we can never have that time back. But in many ways I lost my family that day too. I’m so glad that you were cared for. I am. But I have missed you, Lazarus. And these things are not easy for me to talk about. I was not a man raised to feel my emotions. I couldn’t. And my history with family is very complicated. I... Tinley was originally engaged to Dionysus. I was intent on seducing her away from him. The night he was killed. I have struggled with my own purity of intent for much of my life for that reason. A
lso for the loss of you. But Tinley has made me... She’s made me different. She’s made me understand things about myself that I didn’t before. And she’s brought me peace. Peace I didn’t think I could ever have. Not a man like me. She has made me... She has made me into the King that I need to be. I hope the man as well. I wish to be a brother to you. I wish to be a brother to you in ways that I have not been. And I wish to... I wish to bring restoration to your people. The people who cared for you. You shall rule by my side.”
The words were as a bullet, straight to his chest. They might have knocked him off his horse had he not found a way to steady himself.
He had not come here for this. For restoration.
He had not known such a thing was possible.
He had come for destruction. For in his mind the only option was conquer or be conquered.
Perhaps that was the blood of his great-grandfather. A man who had not seen how people could exist side by side.
And it shamed him.
He could see that it wasn’t as simple as his brother being ignorant, or uncaring. And Lazarus himself was not more enlightened than Alexius. He simply knew different angles.
Lazarus knew some of the dark, hard things in their family history.
Alexius knew the humanity.
And if you put all of those things together, they created a whole that was quite different than either of them had previously thought or believed.
“You would rule with me?”
“It’s the only way I can see forward. We must have unity, Lazarus. We must have our family together. Life without you, life after your loss, it was dark. And there is nothing I can do about the loss of Dionysus. There is nothing I can do to put Mother and Father at peace. There is nothing I can do to change what our ancestors did to the people of the wood. I cannot go back. But we can go forward, and we can do things differently. And that is something I think we are honor bound to do.”
“You do not wish for bloodshed?” Lazarus asked.
Alexius looked at him, one dark brow arched. “I do not. Were you prepared for it?”
He nodded slowly. “I was prepared for anything.”
“And how does this sit with you? A truce?”
“It sits better with me than I would’ve thought.”
He thought back to when he had nearly taken Tinley. Something to hurt his brother. Something to get revenge.
An act of open war. And he had told himself that the reasons he had given his brother for his not taking Tinley were all emotional, and he had told himself it was not true. That for him it had been about maintaining peace where he could, and giving himself time to plan things out a bit more strategically.
But the truth was, seeing the way his brother loved Tinley had done something to him. It was something he could not understand.
“Come,” Alexius said. “We will talk about logistics. And I will race you back.”
And so they did. Going as fast as their horses could take them, all the way back down to the palace. And Lazarus felt something like joy. Something like freedom. Like fun. Like a childhood that had slipped through his grasp when he was four years old, never to be reclaimed. Until now. Until this moment.
And when they arrived, Tinley met them, coming out of the palace. And she was... Radiant. Her face glowed with joy as she ran toward Alexius. He dismounted his horse and picked her up from the ground, holding her gently for a kiss. And there was something... Something. Something between them that he couldn’t even understand. Love, he knew that it was. But it was that same feeling he had looking at his brother from the wood when Tinley had vanished. Mystified. Furious. And it had to do with the limitations in his own soul. Even the confusion that he felt when Alexius proposed a merger. When he proposed peace. All of it was so foreign to him. Mercy. Compassion. Softness.
His mother...
He had learned to build a wall over his fear, his hurt. It was how Agamemnon had told him to survive. But he had lost so many things. So many pieces of himself.
And there was Agnes. Agnes who had wept after they’d made love. Who he held in his arms while she shook, but felt like a mountain trying to find ways to soften for a weary traveler. He did not know how. He did not know if such a thing were possible. Stone could not be made soft. And he still felt like a boy, standing in the woods, separate from this bright and brilliant world. Separate from this reality. From this truth. He was not the same as his brother. And he didn’t know how to be.
Perhaps he was too shaped by those years away.
But then... Didn’t the answer lie here? As to being a leader... Alexius understood softness more. Alexius understood many things he didn’t, he could see it. And yes, he would have to go back to his people and say it would not be the grand coup that they had all imagined. But it would be something. And it would be better in the end.
And maybe this was the softness. Maybe it was all he had.
Tinley took hold of Alex’s arm and looked up at him, the look on her face brilliant. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes,” Alex said.
And Lazarus found that he would’ve said the same. Which was a strange realization indeed.
“Where’s Agnes?”
“She’s gone to the baths. We had a very nice tea, but she was tired.” Tinley’s eyes glowed with humor, and he could not quite say why.
“I will need to journey back into the wood tonight. I will return. But... I will need Agnes.”
“Are you sure Agnes should make that journey?”
He laughed. “You forget, you have seen Agnes in quite her finest clothing. But she is the same as I am. Agnes is a warrior.”
And the woman he was going to marry. It was no longer a lie. Perhaps nothing here was.
Perhaps it was... Perhaps there was a way.
“We may return tonight, but late. I will... I will see you.”
By the time he found Agnes she was in their bedchamber, fully dressed.
“Put your walking clothes on,” he said.
“Why?”
“We’re journeying back home tonight.”
“Lazarus...”
“I will explain on the way.”
* * *
Lazarus was grim and silent on the journey, his disquiet nearly a physical thing. The darkness began to get oppressive, and Agnes knew that they wouldn’t make it back to the encampment tonight.
“Are we to sleep out here?”
She did not fear the wolves of the wood, nor any of the other dangers. Lazarus was the most dangerous thing in this forest.
“Sure, yes, we shall stop here.”
He put their bags down, and then began the work of making a fire. It didn’t take him long before the flames were high and hot. He was so experienced in survival. He was just the sort of man who could keep her safe. Who could take care of her, who could take care of a nation.
“Do you know why we have to go back?” he asked.
“No. Because you didn’t tell me.”
“And you didn’t ask,” he said, looking at her intently.
“All right. Why?”
“I don’t think... I don’t think there’s going to be a revolution. I spoke to Alex, and he... He was regretful to hear about the history of the country. He wants to make it right. He wants me to rule with him, and to represent the interests of the people of the forest. We will talk more later about the particulars, but he... He wants to restore what was taken. He wants to find a way. For us all to coexist peacefully. For us to be a family.”
“And that is...what you want?”
He didn’t have words for what he wished. It was a tangle of hard frustration in his chest, and he had no idea how to say one way or the other whether this was good or bad. Whether it was within his expectations or not. It was nothing like he had imagined. But none of this was. Lazarus had always known firmly who he w
as and what he was for. An instrument of vengeance if nothing else. And now... Now it was not to be so. But perhaps it was better. Perhaps this was better. But what would it mean to their people?
What would it mean to their way of life? Would they want this compromise.
“I began compromising the moment that I saw Tinley standing in that clearing. I was going to take her. I was going to make her my war bride. But then... I saw the way he went after her. I saw what he did. I do not understand those feelings. Alexius seems to have ripped himself open and carved out space for this woman inside of him and I do not understand. I can’t understand. I was made to be something else entirely, and this... This road to compromise is painful like the breaking of a limb.”
“Lazarus...”
“You were part of a family once. Even if you can’t remember.”
“So were you.”
“Can you show me, Agnes? I need to understand. I need to understand why she looks at him like that when he comes back to the palace. I need to understand why he changed. That’s what he told me. That Tinley changed him. That she made him see himself differently. I... I do not understand this. And I... I need to. Agnes, I need you.”
Agnes felt at a loss. There was a hard edge to his voice, desperation to his words, and she did not know how she was supposed to call the answers up to these questions.
“I don’t know,” she said. “No one has ever cared for me, Lazarus, not really. The closest thing has been you in your obligation to me. I only know the same things you do.”
“When we touch it is fire,” he said. “And I can see that between them. It is that the core of what they are. At the core of their connection. Can we not find that?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Teach me,” he said. “Teach me to be like him. Teach me the way to make you look at me in such a fashion.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“She looks at him as if he is the sun, the moon and the stars, and I... I don’t know how to be anything but the mountain.”
She put her hand on his face. “The mountain has sheltered me.”
“But cannot hold you,” he said. “I am to be a leader to my people, and I don’t know how to be a leader that is something more than blood oaths and promises of war. I have to go back there, I have to tell them. That everything has changed. I have to be different.”