The Heir Boxed Set

by Kyra Gregory

  He hung his head, feeling the prickles of a chill run down his spine. “I lost my temper,” he confessed quietly.

  Riffin nodded slowly, doing his utmost to keep his amusement from tugging at the corners of his lips, “I heard that,” he said. “I cannot say I’m sorry for it.”

  Thane raked his fingers through his hair before bringing them to his lips, half-tempted to bite his tongue and say nothing, though unable to do so. “If it helps, they have less reason to be pleased with themselves than they think,” he whispered.

  Tearing his attention away from the children, he shot his confusion in his direction, beckoning him to elaborate.

  And he did. He told him what he’d done and how he’d feigned the entire thing, leaving Riffin dumbfounded, impressed, and unmistakably amused.

  “Is that why you wanted to speak with my sister before the ceremony?” he asked.

  Thane cocked his head to one side, “I wanted to tell her that she was wrong,” he said. “I wanted to tell her that I had no hand in any of this.”

  Riffin chuckled, unsettling Thane. He wanted to believe his friend wouldn’t feel nearly as negative about the entire thing as his father was, only the way he laughed worried him. “Do you honestly think she would’ve believed you?” he asked.

  Thane cocked his head to one side. No, he hadn’t. He knew she was unlikely to believe a word he said, caught up in all her emotions or not. He’d said he’d protect her and, instead, he could be seen trying to take advantage of her by marrying her—she had every right to be angry, and to be hurt.

  “My sister is hardheaded and focused, a little sour too,” he said, shaking his head at the thought of her.

  Thane’s shoulders dropped, though he tried to look as though he didn’t agree, stifling the temptation to describe her in hundreds more complimentary ways.

  Riffin glanced over his shoulder, a small smile creeping onto his lips, “But I don’t think this marriage is the worst thing to happen to either of you,” he said. “On the contrary, I think you both have a great deal of good to offer each other.”

  Thane’s eyes widened, a jolt of emotion emanating from his heart, winding him. His eyes stung ever so slightly, allowing himself to smirk and hang his head in an effort to hide it, “That’s not what my father thinks,” he said.

  Riffin shrugged his shoulders, “I care little for what your father thinks,” he said, incapable of keeping the bitterness from his tone. “I think your father has imposed too much on you on what it means to be at the side of a King.”

  A smile quivered on his lips, “Do you think he’s wrong then?” he asked.

  Riffin gave a gentle shrug, “Let’s just say, I’m pleased it’s you by my side to advise me, and not him,” he said.

  As Dione crawled to Thane’s feet, tugging at the leg of his pants, he breathed a heavy sigh and scooped the young Princess into his arms, slipping out of his seat to sit beside his friend.

  “Your father, for all his best intentions, was there when my mother was seized by Ludorum,” Riffin said. “That means that, try as you might to be perfect, you may still fail.”

  Thane clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “But he says it absolves us of guilt if we do everything within our power to avoid it,” he said.

  “But that won’t make you happy,” he said.

  He shook his head—happiness never came into it. It wasn’t something worth thinking about. “Happiness—“

  “Is important,” Riffin said, finishing for him. He tucked his finger beneath Thane’s chin, forcing him to take in the severity in his eyes as he spoke. “Your father threw everything away and, though I am thankful for his service, I cannot help but think that the love he evaded in favour of duty towards my mother will be felt now that he has no duty to return to.”

  Leaning into the couch, Thane knew he was right. His father wasn’t the same now that he had nothing to tend to. Sitting alone in his recovery, there was nobody there to see him, nobody for him to talk to, nobody to share stories with or take walks with. Nobody sought news from him, nor sought out advice, the way the Queen might’ve. In a matter of days, he’d lost everything he’d ever known.

  “Though we may never see the day if we fail,” Riffin started, “one day, these wars may be over and all we will have is what we built for ourselves in spite of the grief it brought. You need to see to it that you have something for yourself when that day comes.”

  Thane’s eyes narrowed. Though he knew exactly what Riffin was saying, and agreed with just about every word of it, he couldn’t believe it was the same for him, or that such a thing was even possible for him. The path he’d been set upon as a child was simple and clear—be the best Master of Poisons the world had ever seen, and do everything in his power to protect the King. Marrying, being a husband—or a father—never played into it. “Your sister doesn’t want to be married to me,” he said. Riffin sighed, hanging and shaking his head. “You heard her! She wanted a man with land that could supplement her own! Someone from which she could build something for herself with!”

  Riffin chuckled, “And now she wants a man who doesn’t beat her when she doesn’t comply with his demands!” he said. “You’re in luck! Her standards have lowered!”

  Shaking his head, Thane broke out into laughter, unable to help it. Lifting Dione up, he smiled widely at her, uttering, “Your father is mad,” he told the wide-eyed baby girl.

  Riffin shook his head, still laughing, “I’m serious!” he said.

  “That’s what worries me!” Thane retorted.

  “You and Neyva are in the same position,” he said. “Two people who have done a duty to their King, each one equally uncomfortable in the arrangement that has been made for them!”

  Rolling his eyes, Thane asked, “What would you suggest?”

  Riffin gave himself a moment to consider his words—whatever was coming, Thane wasn’t going to like it. “Make the first move,” he said. His mouth fell open, quick with a rebuttal, only for Riffin to speak over him before he could manage, “Show her the man I know you to be!”

  Thane scoffed, laughing, “And what man is that?” he asked. “Shall I show her my poison collection? I suppose that’ll really—“

  “You’re good at far more than just poisons, Thane,” he said, throwing a hand up.

  He broke out into another chuckle, equally incredulous, “Really?” he asked. “Like what?”

  Riffin’s mouth fell open, the eagerness to answer not quite enough to cover for the fact that he had none to give.

  Thane shook his head, rolling his eyes. Placing Dione back on the furs, he lifted himself onto the couch again. “I have nothing to offer her,” he said. “She’s bright, well-versed in politics, knowledgable of the land she owns.”

  “The fact that you know what interests her is already far more than what Lord Girgani did,” he said. “Show her she has your interest and you would’ve already outdone him.”

  “So long as I don’t beat her,” Thane supplemented dryly, glaring out of the corner of his eye.

  Riffin smirked, “So long as you don’t beat her,” he agreed.

  Just then, the door opened. Kara stood there, her mouth agape, likely having heard the tail-end of their discussion. She licked her lips, searching for something to say, “I...will come back later,” she said.

  The two of them broke out into laughter, shaking their heads dismissively. “No need,” Thane said. “I should be going.”

  “Taking my words to heart, I hope,” Riffin said as his gaze followed him to the door.

  Thane tilted his head from side-to-side, “Something like that,” he said. Coming across the servants, distributing the morning meals amongst the different chambers, he made his way into the gardens quickly. Without saying a word, he snatched up the gardener’s scissors along the way, a place in mind. He was on the way back to the palace before long, making it there in time to take the tray from a servant before she could think to even knock on Neyva’s door.


  He let himself inside, unsettling as it was to do so, only to find the door to her bedchambers ajar. He placed the tray on the table, saying nothing until he placed the lilac flowers in the crystal vase in the centre of the room. The bedroom doors opened, causing him to pause. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing softly.

  Thane cleared his throat, unable to bring himself to look at her. “Flowers,” he said, half-shrugging.

  She smiled cheekily, approaching him as she twirled the last of her curls between her fingers. “I see that,” she replied.

  He said nothing else, unsure of what there was that he could possibly say, and turned to her chair at the table instead, pulling it out for her. Her brows twitched together in confusion, visible even out of the corner of his eye, though she accepted his gesture and took a seat. “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  Thane cocked his head to one side, “No,” he said. It hurt, just a little bit, that she didn’t know after all these years, though he thought he could hardly blame her when the actions of someone of his status meant so little. “I don’t eat in the mornings,” he said.

  Neyva looked increasingly confused, popping a grape into her mouth, “Why not?” she asked.

  He shifted his weight, taking the opportunity to scrunch his eyes shut as he considered telling her the truth. “I can taste for poisons better if I don’t eat,” he replied.

  He glanced in her direction, half-expecting her to appear horrified at the notion, only to find her with her chin propped in her hand, appearing more intrigued than anything else. “Do you not mistake the taste of poison for hunger?” she asked.

  “They’re very different,” he said, amused by the notion.

  Neyva cocked her head to one side before taking some food into her plate, dipping bits of bread into honey.

  He smiled, bowing his head, “I won’t bore you with the details,” he said. He turned on his heel, hands clasped behind his back, and went to walk away.

  “You’ll need to, sometime,” she said.

  Thane paused. He glanced over his shoulder, finding she’d stopped eating, staring at the empty seat across from her. “I beg your pardon?”

  Licking her lips, she considered her words, “Like it or not, you and I are husband and wife,” she said, “and, whether we deem it to be temporary, the truth is, we cannot be certain. Thus, I would have us make the most of it.” Thane turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest as he listened with intent. “I’m sure you and I have a lot in common—a love for the King amongst them,” she said, “and I feel as though you and I would be better off working with each other, rather than against each other.”

  Thane smirked, “But you think I’m an immature child,” he said.

  She shrugged indifferently, “And you seem to think I give a far greater damn about status than I really do,” she said. Finally, her gaze shot in his direction, her stare intense beneath her full lashes. “The fact that you’re here—that you didn’t run—tells me I might be wrong about you,” she said. “Ludorum is out to destroy us by orchestrating a match they deem toxic. Let us show them that we are more than just the sum of other people’s choices.”

  Thane’s smirk lingered as he hung his head. It was a start, he thought, and, whether it would lead to a conclusion he hoped for, she was right—they were better off working together.

  As much as they may have been in agreement, he wasn’t convinced any of this would work. His father was right when he said that duty played too great of a role in each of their lives. He wasn’t sure how he could function without it, or have a life separate from it.

  Suddenly, he found himself envying Riffin. He’d never done so before, certainly not when he always knew the enormous amount of pressure he would be under as King. But, somehow, Riffin had done what he always thought was impossible; he was able to live two lives, each one somewhat independent from another.

  Though his children’s lives would certainly be influenced by the decisions he made as King, for now, the day-to-day decisions, even those that preluded war, wouldn’t be noticed by them. What they did notice was well within Riffin’s control; they knew when their father was present, they knew when he cared for them, when he coddled and kissed them. They felt his love and it wasn’t the love of a King—it was the love of a father.

  If it was possible for a King, a man with paramount pressure on his shoulders, then, couldn’t it maybe be possible for him? Conversely, however, it was said that Kings had a number of luxuries at their disposal. Life was simpler for them, free of the need to slog away at debilitating jobs to put food on the table, knowing that their family had a roof over their heads—even plenty to choose from—and that their children were safe in their beds, tended to by a number of caring hands. Could it be said it was only possible because of the luxuries of being King?

  A knock on the door struck Thane from his thoughts before he could give Neyva a reply, saving him from having to say anything at all when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sound hopeful, or tear her argument down and avoid his own disappointment and heartache like his father suggested.

  Instead, he opened the door. The guard on the other side appeared surprised to see him, recoiling somewhat with large eyes and his jaw agape. It was good to see he wasn’t the only one struggling to come to terms with being married to a woman so much more superior to him—even the rest of the guards noticed. “Can I help you?” Thane asked, raising a brow. “Or are you just going to stand there and stare?”

  The guard shook his head, blinking away his surprise, “Deros Bonomo has arrived to see his daughter,” he said.

  Thane nodded curtly and dismissed him, turning to Neyva to find her lifting herself reluctantly from the table. “Would you like me to join you?” he asked.

  She shrugged indifferently, “Go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Pursing his lips together, he made his way towards the throne room. He wondered what he would say. They’d always been on good terms, with Deros treating him more like a son at times than he thought he even deserved—certainly more than his own father thought he deserved. He wondered if it was any different now that he’d married his daughter. Would he despise him? He’d been gone for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he thought the same thing Neyva did—that he was somehow trying to use her move up in the world.

  “Sir Bonomo,” Thane addressed, bowing deeply.

  Relief washed over Deros’s face, advancing towards him quickly to meet him. “Is it true?” he asked.

  Thane cocked his head to one side, “I suppose that all depends on what you’ve heard,” he replied.

  “Is it true Lord Girgani struck Neyva?” he asked. “Is it true she ran away?”

  Thane nodded slowly, uncertain if Neyva wanted the details of all she had endured to be shared with her father. Although Deros was strict, he was nothing like his own father—he wouldn’t condemn her for fleeing when her virtue and life were at stake. “She’s been found now,” he said. “Riffin annulled her marriage.”

  “On the condition she married you,” he finished for him. Thane’s mouth fell open, a temptation to ask him how he’d heard. “I heard on the way here that nobles within a few hours distance were invited to the ceremony.” Not giving him a single chance to say a word, Deros threw his arms around him, his embrace tight around him. “Thank you,” he said.

  Being let go, Thane pulled away ever so slightly, “You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, clearing his throat. “I did my duty.”

  Deros shook his head, “Marrying against your will is not duty,” he said. “Your duty is to your King and—“

  “And my King couldn’t stand to have his sister married off to a savage, whether his sister agreed to it or not,” he said. Shifting his weight, Neyva’s words to him were still fresh in his mind, “That said,” he started, “I have known Neyva my entire life. King or not, I would’ve agreed to anything to spare her such an experience.”

  “And I would’ve accepted,” Neyva sai
d.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Thane found her entering with her head held high, shoulders square and her hands clasped together gracefully. She came to stand beside him, taking him by surprise, “I believe there are thousands of men who would make far worse husbands,” she remarked. “Not only do I believe Thane is not amongst them, I quite think it would be an honour to call such a loyal man my husband.”

  Deros smiled widely, though his gaze saddened at the sight of the bruising on her cheek and neck, extending his hand to her so he could turn her face into the light. “I’m sorry you were forced to bare so much,” he said.

  She put on a smile, though she appeared to be far removed from it as her eyes glistened, “I did what I could,” she said, a faint crack in her voice. “I’m sorry I fled.”

  “I’m not,” he said. He closed the gap between them and took her into his arms, holding her close. Then, the woman Thane knew her to be disappeared. As she pressed her cheek to her father’s chest and wrapped her arms around him, her eyes scrunched shut as she sought comfort in his embrace, she became a child again. Though she didn’t weep or despair, she nestled against him and allowed the worries of the world to fade from existence.

  Chapter 27

  DISAPPOINTED AS HE WAS that his father’s visit to the palace was short lived, Riffin found he didn’t quite mind it. Having him so close, standing in the throne room, he half expected his father’s judgement for letting matters get out of hand.

  Only somewhat closer to determining the identities of those that made up the Alliance Council, Riffin had yet to conjure up a method for them to be dealt with. Bribing them was always an option, that was sure—pay them, grant them position and power, and he could demand their loyalty. On the other hand, there was no reason to reward treacherous behaviour, nor was it wise to give men a power they could one day wield against him.

  The opposing alternative was what he thought they all deserved—execution. Manipulative behaviour, against the King no less, was an act of treason, the punishment of which was death. The thought of being a tyrant, however, irked him more than he thought possible. He thought of all the ways in which his mother had dealt with problematic matters, only to come to the conclusion that her threats were taken far more seriously than his own ever were.