by Kyra Gregory
“My father isn’t King,” Riffin retorted.
With two hands on his back, Malia shoved him, just enough to almost throw him off balance. Having taken him by surprise, he spun around to face her. A scowl on her face and nostrils flaring, she advanced on him, shoving him again, this time in the chest. “Surely you need to be King longer than a day before you start using that excuse!”
“I have to do this,” Riffin said, speaking through gritted teeth.
“If they are willing to kill your mother, what makes you think they won’t kill you?”
He paused, stumbling even over his next breath. “I don’t think they won’t,” he confessed.
Malia’s shoulders dropped. The glare in her eyes, though still there, became shrouded in hurt. “And this is how you want to say goodbye?” she asked.
Riffin slumped, the weight of her words adding to the toll. He could feel himself crumbling and it was far too soon for that. If he was going to make a kink in Ludorum’s armour, if he was going to stand any chance against them, this couldn’t happen. “I’m not leaving thinking this is goodbye,” he said.
“Then you’re not thinking at all,” she retorted. “They will kill you and what will that leave us with?”
“My vengeful father, an equally vengeful wife, and heirs to my throne that remain alive and well back in a fortified city,” he replied. He took her hands in his, squeezing tightly to keep her from speaking over him. “I’m the reason she’s in Ludorum,” he said. “She went there to argue in my favour; I cannot sit back and do nothing.”
“Then go with an army,” she said. She verged on pleading with him, her eyes blazing and glistening in the same instant. “Don’t go alone.”
“It will take too long to build a suitable army,” he said. “Even if the army is decent, the moment an army marches onto Ludorum soil, it’ll be taken as an act of war and they will attack Lionessa before it could be allowed a moment to prepare.” He combed his fingers through her hair, shoulders slumped as it became his turn to beg for understanding, “If I go there in peace, as an ally of sorts, I stand a better chance of success.”
“But the price of loss will be the greatest,” she whispered. She pulled her hands out of his, as though she couldn’t bare to be touched by him any longer, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like this,” she said.
“Believe me,” Riffin said, a sigh threatening to escape him, “for all they put me through as I pleaded for your release, I want nothing more than to rain fire down upon them,” he said. “But this is the only way.”
Malia glared down her nose at him. She wasn’t going to be happy about it, of that he’d always been certain, but if he could just get her to accept it...
“Be angry at me,” he said, “you deserve that much, at the very least.” She certainly did, with barely a quiet moment to be had for herself ever since their marriage. “But those men that follow me today... They cannot see us divided, certainly not this soon. We need them to know they’re right to be loyal to us, to want to protect us—that’s the only way they’ll fight for us and keep us safe.”
Malia sucked in a deep breath, biting back her spite before forcing herself to nod.
Together, they stepped out into the main courtyard and Malia gasped upon finding that his private guard had already been assembled, their horses awaiting them. “How long have you known?” she asked.
“Only a few hours,” he replied, cocking his head to one side. “Impressive how quickly people move for a King,” he remarked, recalling how long everything took to get moving when he was just a Prince and it was his wife’s life at stake.
The castle doors opened again and Thane rushed down the steps, a small bag of his own provisions in hand.
Malia blinked with confusion, though it should’ve been unfounded. “You’re leaving too?” she asked.
“I go where Riffin goes,” he replied simply.
Although she should’ve found comfort in his words, knowing Thane would protect him with his life, Malia appeared more mortified than anything else. “Your father is on his death bed, isn’t he?”
Followed to his horse, Thane visibly swallowed the lump in his throat as he attached his belongings to his saddle. “I trust that, should he pass in my absence, the Queen will see befitting arrangements are made.”
Riffin glanced in Malia’s direction, finding her eyes wide at being referred to as Queen. Her mouth fell open, floundering for a reply that was suited of her newfound station. “I’ll... I’ll do my best,” she stuttered.
Riffin smiled softly. While others doubted her in the capacity of Queen—doubted her ability to understand the responsibilities of a King—Riffin never did. He knew it would be hard on her, just as it would be hard on him, but he never considered that she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. He wished he wasn’t nearly as much of a coward, risking his misery as King being cut short by an early demise, but there wasn’t any other way. Nobody would march into Ludorum and do what needed to be done—that was his duty.
The men mounted their horses, leaving Riffin last, standing in the courtyard amongst them. “Keep safe,” Malia said, tempering her anger somewhat, “as impossible as it may be,” she uttered in a way that only Riffin could hear.
He nodded curtly. All the words he wished to speak sounded too much like a goodbye. So, instead, he leaned in to place a soft, chaste kiss on her lips that, like it or not, only said the same thing. Try as he might to convince himself he was doing the right thing, the threat of death lingered too near.
Their arrival in Ludorum was prompt. Word had been sent ahead from the Lionessan castle, preparing well-rested horses at occasional stops that would allow for their arrival to be as prompt as they could manage.
Exhausted from hours and hours of constant riding, Riffin dismounted his horse in front of Ludorum’s castle. Flexing his stiff fingers, having had them clenched around the reigns for days, he couldn’t help but have them tighten into fists at the sight of Prince Pietros. “Where’s your brother?” he asked.
“He wasn’t expecting you,” Prince Pietros replied, looking down his nose at him.
Riffin’s nostrils flared and, as he approached the steps, his guards tightened around him. Of course he wasn’t being expected—King Niles thought him a coward, a Prince who would hide behind the walls of his fortified kingdom. “Where is he?” he growled.
“Come inside and rest,” Pietros said. Doing his utmost to keep the matter calm, the mild-tempered Prince appeared to be on the cusp of anger. “I will see to it that he meets you before the day is over.”
“I will not rest,” Riffin hissed. “I wish to see him now.”
Nowhere near as mean-spirited as his brother could be, Pietros would hardly look at him. As a man who was at an unmistakable advantage, it didn’t seem as though he was ready to exploit that—Riffin recognised that, earning him less of his anger than he wished to spare him. “I will see what I can do,” he said. He turned around and the castle doors opened. Only, before he could take a step inside, he turned back around, putting Riffin’s men on edge.
Pietros swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he considered his words, “I don’t know what he’ll do,” he said, speaking just above a whisper. “My only advice would be... Leave now.”
Taken aback as he was by his warning, Riffin scoffed, a short chuckle escaping him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mean to take chances,” he said. “Summon your brother,” he ordered, “unless he wishes to behave like a coward.”
Pietros glared at him from beneath his lashes, spinning around before marching through the corridors of the castle ahead of his Lionessan relative.
Chapter 3
KING NILES LEFT THEM waiting an hour and, in that time, Riffin’s temperament only worsened. The anger towards his Ludorum relatives, once nothing more than a flicker, ruptured into an almighty blaze. He was grateful for it, to some extent, finding that it hid the underlying fear—a fear of being too late, a fear for his life and the l
ives of those that stood beside him, and a fear for the lives he left behind.
Although he tried hard to keep himself from thinking about it, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would be the shortest reigning King in the history of Lionessa, Evrad and Azura. He reckoned there were many who died in battle, back when the throne was an even more uncertain place to reside, but he doubted any had lasted less than a week.
By the time King Niles made an appearance, however, all thought to fear had gone. The sight of his face alone, one absent any emotion, caused him to seethe. “My mother is not to blame for this! Your grievance is with me and what I did!”
King Niles leaned forward in his seat, snorting, “You think I’m stupid enough to believe that your mother had no hand in this?” he asked. “I know your mother well enough to know that she had to allow it or it wouldn’t have been done!”
“My mother had no hand in this! I made the plans, I saw them done! If you want to execute anyone for interference, let it be me!”
“Your mother was responsible. It was her responsibility to see that her son kept in line. When you are King and allow such a thing to come between an alliance, then you will be the one held responsible.”
Riffin recoiled. King Niles was speaking as though there was a chance of him leaving there alive, when all in the room had resigned themselves to being executed amongst the Queen they served. “And why would you want me to be King?” he asked.
“The same reason your mother allowed me to be King,” he said. “The same reason she didn’t take Ludorum for herself.”
Because King Niles could be controlled, if only for a little while. His mother had decided early that she wouldn’t claim anymore land as her own. But control another and rule through them? That was well within her power, as well as within her intentions.
Riffin glared out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you think you would have it easy with me?” he asked. If allowed to rule his mother’s lands, he was still far more superior in strength and power than the Ludorum King.
“I’m hoping this would teach you a lesson,” King Niles replied, a smug smile growing on his lips. “You will soon learn that there’s more at stake than family, than our wives and our children—our actions matter.”
Riffin bit the inside of his cheek, but no amount of self-inflicted pain was about to keep him from speaking out of turn. “Coming from the man who allowed his own family to be executed,” he said.
“Precisely,” King Niles exclaimed. “I knew what they were capable of! I knew the evil and the torment they would inflict if they came to power and I saw that a stop was put to it!”
“My mother has never been so callous!” he retorted.
“Your mother allowed emotion to get the better of her! You allowed emotion to get the better of her!” he said. “Your mother allowed her son to involve himself in something far greater than his own kingdom. She allowed her son to stand in the way of an alliance and, all for what? A woman?”
Riffin rolled his eyes. In the back of his mind, he recalled stories his father had told him about Niles’s own love life. There was a time Niles, too, would have thrown it all away for what others would’ve deemed was simply ‘a woman.’ Rather than get into that, laying a blow that would likely only anger the beast within the King further, he shook his head and returned to more formal matters. “If this is about the rebels, we will help you with whatever you need—just reconsider what you’re about to do.”
King Niles bowed his head in an effort to stifle his laughter. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he shook his head. “There’s nothing to reconsider,” he said. “I’ve made a decision. The execution still stands.”
Riffin advanced towards him, only for King Niles’s guards to take a step forward and stop him in his tracks. “Reconsider,” he said. It started as an order, but a breath caught in the back of his throat and his words broke into a plea. “Reconsider, please.”
King Niles shook his head, “If I reconsider, I become a King who cannot stand by the decisions he’s made,” he said. “The second I become a King who doesn’t stand by his decisions, that is the second I lose my crown to those who declare themselves to have greater resolve.”
Riffin’s heart cracked in his chest, a shaky breath escaped him at the sensation of defeat. A prickle of tears stung the back of his eyes, though his vision blazed with anger as he came face-to-face with the stubborn King.
King Niles went to walk away and his guards shifted to follow him. He stopped short, shoulders dropping.
For a second, Riffin thought humanity got the better of him. He thought he’d finally seen sense, that the insanity washed away, only for Riffin to realise he was wrong as he turned back around to face him. Though King Niles’s gaze was somewhat softer, there appeared to be nothing akin to sympathy or remorse. “Out of respect towards our alliance,” he started—and Riffin was tempted to scoff—“I will allow you a moment with your mother to say your goodbyes.”
Riffin’s heart sank in his chest, not because King Niles hadn’t gone back on his agreement but...because he would have to face her. A goodbye wasn’t all he had to say to her. For everything he needed to say... He didn’t think they had enough time for that.
His guards were allowed to clear the prison cells below, posting themselves at every entrance and exit. Thane lingered behind, standing in the light of the doorway, seeing to it they weren’t cornered like rats.
Riffin wanted nothing more than his friend to walk beside him, but he knew this was something he had to do alone. He hesitated with each step he took, his heart in his throat, his breathing laborious against the thick, damp air of the underground cells. He came to a stop at the end of the long corridor. Catching sight of his mother’s profile in a sliver of light, she looked to have aged years in a matter of weeks and, yet, she still appeared as poised and as regal as he remembered her. Leaning into one of the walls, her eyes opened slowly and the life behind them was unmistakable.
She must’ve half-expected King Niles himself to be standing there, perhaps Prince Pietros, or one of his other guards, because her eyes were darkened with anger. Upon blinking, lifting her head from the stone wall, her features changed to one of both delight and concern. “What are you doing here?” she asked, rushing towards the bars.
His mouth opened to reply but nothing would come out. He wanted to tell her he was there to save her, to tell her that he’d found her a way out... A hot tear trickled down his cheek and her hands slipped through the bars. She hushed him softly, brushing her thumb against his skin, “Enough,” she whispered.
“I tried,” he said. “I tried to... But...”
She smiled sympathetically, “You needn’t have even tried,” she said. “He won’t give in. Not when faced with logic, not when faced with money, or power.”
“This is absurd,” Riffin hissed.
“This is what it means to be King,” she replied. “Our fates may always be determined by others. The power we wield is fleeting in one way or another.”
Riffin pressed his forehead to the bars, fists clenching around them. “This is all my fault,” he whispered. “I told them... I told them you had no say in this. I told them I was the one at fault.”
Her fingers slipped through the bars, her warm fingers caressing his cheek. “But I allowed it,” she said, “and that is all the crime they need.”
His breath catching in his throat, he half-turned away for a second, “I’m so sorry,” he gasped.
She hushed him softly and, just like that, he felt as though he was a child again, seeking the comfort of his mother for all his wrongdoings. “This is not your fault,” she whispered.
“It is,” he said, his voice cracking. “Trying to save one person I love, sacrificed another and—”
“Such is the way of things,” she said. “There is a cost to every decision we make. Some are worth paying, some are not.” He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block out the sound of her words. “For what it’s wor
th,” she started, “I believe you made the right choice.”
Riffin opened his eyes, searching her features for sincerity, facing her with nothing but his profound confusion. “What?” he asked.
“If it comes down to having made a choice,” she said, “then you have made the right one.”
Riffin scoffed and shook his head when he couldn’t understand.
“I have given you all that I can, as well as years of service to my kingdoms. But Malia... She is too young to have been lost that way. Her mother would be distraught to lose another child, her father would lose his wife to the grief, as well as the daughter he has cherished all these years. Your children would lose their mother. You would lose a wife.”
He shook his head, slamming his hand into the bars once more, “But I will also lose a mother. Neyva would lose a second mother. My father would lose his soulmate. Our kingdoms would lose a Queen.”
A smile inched onto her face, though her gaze saddened as she pulled herself away from the bars of her cell. “Tell Neyva to continue on her path—though remind her of the love there is to be found in the world—I worry she’s turned her back on it,” she said. She touched at the corner of her eye, her smile growing, “Tell your father not to be angry—that we always knew of the possibilities my reign would bring. Tell him that I loved him beyond measure, and that he has given me the very best moments of my life.”
She shifted her weight, playing with her fingers as she turned away briefly. “Tell Gyles... If ever I was unrelentingly grateful, it was for his friendship—for the kindness, the loyalty and understanding he showed me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Riffin’s heart sank in his chest, weighted and achy as it threatened to tear him apart. The tears stung the back of his eyes, a sob working its way into the back of his throat. “What about the people?” he asked with a touch of bitterness, countering this grief in the only way he knew how. “What do you suppose I tell them when they find out their new King is the reason their beloved Queen is dead?” he asked.