The Heir Boxed Set

by Kyra Gregory

  “And our marriage?” she asked, tearfully. “What of that? Did you have a hand in it after all?”

  He shook his head, “When we returned to the Capital and I summoned Manus to answer for what had been done to you, I’d hoped he’d bring with him the news that Girgani had died. When he didn’t and your brother proposed annulling the marriage on the grounds of a promise to another, I followed his plan.”

  Advancing towards him swiftly, he half-expected to be struck across the face, to have her change her mind and demand the annulment that very night. Instead, her hands fell to his face, though not in a stinging slap but in a passionate hold, pinning him in place as she pressed her lips to his.

  Robbed of breath, shaken by her resolve, he withdrew. “I’m a traitor,” he said, “and you know it to be true and now—“

  “My brother won’t care,” she whispered. “Girgani’s death played into his hand as he’d hoped.” She leaned into him, clinging to his shirt as she lifted herself onto her toes, pressing her forehead to his. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, softly.

  He laughed, “That I’m a traitor?” he asked. “How can I tell the most...loyal, most duty-bound woman in all of Lionessa that I’ve committed an act of treason?”

  Her thumb caressed his cheek, sending the most delightfully electrifying feeling down his spine. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?” she asked.

  “What reason would you have to return such feelings?” he asked. “And what would be the point of revealing them when you didn’t?”

  “I can think of a few reasons,” she whispered against his lips. “That you are the kindest,” she said, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “the gentlest, most considerate man I have ever met in my entire life.” She pressed their lips together again, clinging to him to bring him down to her level.

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he held her close, allowing his hands to skim the back of her dress.

  She withdrew, tearing their lips apart with reluctance, lifting her gaze from them to look into his eyes, “And I do love you,” she said, “even if you’re a traitor—you’re a traitor for love—I cannot help but forgive that.”

  Closing the gap between them, Thane lifted her into his arms. Years worth of admiration, years worth of desire and love, flourished in a moment of honesty and unbridled passion.

  No longer held back by the words of his father, told of the failures that would be their marriage, no longer divided by station, no longer held back by his own treacherous reputation—everything that held Thane back fell away, leaving nothing but love and desire to be explored in its place.

  Chapter 41

  WITH HIS FEET PERCHED up onto the marble-topped table in the throne room, Riffin slumped further back in his seat. Malia lingered close by, rocking their son gently, pressing soft little kisses to the baby’s forehead.

  Although the assassination attempt was planned for, knowing that everything had been done to protect the children, neither one of them could help the thought of how close they might’ve been to losing their beloved children. Small and innocent, those on the Alliance Council seemed to have very few qualms about sending a savage in pursuit of the most vulnerable.

  The large doors opened, Thane and Neyva entered the room, piecing themselves together to appear presentable after being woken abruptly in the dead of night. “You summoned us?” he asked, bowing.

  Malia lowered herself into her seat at the table, “We received signals from an outpost that a messenger is on the way,” she said.

  Riffin lowered his feet from the table, heaving a heavy sigh as he raked his fingers through his hair.

  Thane nodded curtly. “All seems to be quiet amongst the nobles,” he said. “Our spies report there’s been little movement.”

  “Nobody dares say a word that might implicate themselves or others,” Neyva said.

  “They’re certainly capable of that,” Riffin declared in a quiet voice.

  Sensing something occupied his mind, Thane took a step closer, “What’s the matter?” he asked, troubled.

  Riffin lifted his gaze towards his friend, biting down hard on his tongue as he considered his words with ample care. “Manus seems to be under the impression I had Lord Girgani killed,” he said. “Based on a remark he made earlier in the night, I reckon he suspects I had you poison him.”

  Thane bit his tongue, allowing them to linger in the silence for a moment longer. “Are you asking me if I poisoned him? Or are you telling me that I did?”

  Riffin’s eyes widened, his mouth agape with an unmistakable smirk tugging at the corners, “You did poison him, didn’t you?”

  Thane shifted his weight, licking his lips. “I did,” he said.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” he asked, anger seeping into every word. “Do you know what this means? The nobles believe I will—“ He shook his head, rising to his feet, “How could you?” he asked. “How could you do such a thing?”

  “He hit your sister!”

  “Upon my orders!” Riffin lashed out, startled by his own revelation.

  A chill running down Thane and Neyva’s spines, his sister took a step back, winded by his confession.

  Riffin licked his lips, raking his fingers through his hair as he began to pace. “I had a plan to get Neyva out of Ludorum’s grasp!” he said.

  Shaking, Neyva’s shoulders dropped, her hands clasped together against her stomach. “How could you?” she whispered.

  Riffin’s nostrils flared. “I had a plan,” he said. “But you were too stubborn! Your insistence on performing your duties to this kingdom would’ve kept you in the hands of these traitors and I couldn’t allow that!” His hands clenched into fists at his side, shaking, he turned his determined gaze to her, “I needed you to want to get away,” he said. “I needed reason to annul the marriage and I needed reason to have you allow it.”

  “Duty would’ve been the death of you if you stayed,” Malia remarked, coddling her son.

  Neyva’s eyes widened further, a trickle of tears strolling down her cheeks as she looked to her brother’s wife. “You knew about this?”

  Malia eyed Neyva from beneath her lashes. “You and I are alike,” she said. “I knew what I wouldn’t be able to stand for, and knew you wouldn’t stand for it either.”

  Riffin continued to pace in a bid to relieve himself of the heat burning down his neck, failing to temper his anger. “Why did you do it?” he asked. “Why go behind my back and—“

  Thane shifted his weight again, shaking his head. His eyes glistening, his lips quivering, he battled with the treasonous part of himself he’d hoped he needn’t ever confront. “I knew your hands were tied,” he said. “You had no choice but to concede to the Alliance Council and... I needed to protect her. They had done enough. I couldn’t let them—”

  Riffin glanced over his shoulder, “And you thought I could?” he asked. “You thought I could let them—”

  “You had no choice but to do as they said!” Thane declared. “I knew that!”

  “You ordered the man to beat me,” Neyva screamed, her voice shaking. “You had a choice in that!”

  “I ordered the man to strike you,” he clarified. “He was never meant to—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Thane asked, cutting through their argument. “Seems to me this whole mess could’ve been avoided if you’d just told me what you were planning.”

  Riffin smirked, shaking his head, “You mean to tell me you would’ve allowed it?” he asked. He advanced towards him, gesticulating with his hand that clenched and unclenched in a claw-like fashion, “You mean to tell me that, if I told you that I was going to have a man hit my sister, that you would’ve allowed it to happen?”

  Thane stood still, unmoving, unrelenting, and unwilling to give his King the response he knew was the truth. “If you ordered it, I would’ve done it,” he said, speaking through gritted teeth. “I’d have had no choice.”

  Grabbing a fistful of hair, he massaged
his temple with the heel of his hand, turning away. His heart thundered in his chest, the world spinning around him.

  Thane sucked in a deep breath, licking his lips. “Tell me you understand,” he said. “Tell me you understand why I had to do what I did, knowing that I was the first to see her covered in those bruises!”

  “I do understand!” he growled. “And I despise how much I wish I gave you the order myself!”

  Arms crossed against her chest, unable to take this any longer, Neyva sucked in a deep breath. “Excuse me,” she whispered. She spun on her heel and left before they could say another word, leaving Thane calling after her, torn between staying and following her.

  Riffin opened his mouth to speak, only for Thane to cut him off, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I knew her marriage to that man was out of your hands—because of the Council and because of her. I dealt with it myself so you didn’t have to, and kept it to myself so you could deny ever knowing about it—which you did.”

  He turned his back on him, sucking in deep breaths as he took in his friends words.

  “I need to go,” Thane whispered.

  Riffin glanced his way and, like a shot, his friend murmured an apology and dashed out of the rom. His mouth fell open, his words lingering on his tongue, only to watch as his friend retreated without being given the order. His heart racing from their argument, he went to follow him, only to stop short.

  Resting her forehead against his shoulder, Malia pressed a kiss to his arm.

  He shifted his weight, licking his lips and heaving a heavy sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he scrunched his eyes shut. “Why do I feel like I’ve gone about everything all wrong?” he asked in a whisper.

  Malia kissed his arm oncemore, lifting her head from his shoulder. “What does it matter now?” she asked. “It’s all worked out in the end.”

  His eyes grew wide with disbelief, shaking his head incredulously. “Has it now?” he asked.

  Her gaze cast elsewhere, she nodded, “It has,” she said. “Look.”

  Confused, Riffin followed her line of sight as she cocked her chin in the direction of the corridor.

  Although distant, he could make out two figures, close enough to be one. Squinting in the darkness of the night, their figures illuminated only marginally by the glow of the fiery torches, he could make out his sister. Her head held low, her arms crossed against her chest, her figure made ever smaller by her desire to shrink away... Then his best friend, a hand on the small of her back while the fingers of his other tucked beneath her jaw in his bid to bring her to look at him. Whatever he said to her, it was gentle but forceful, whispered but adamant.

  Their moment in one other’s embrace only lasted a second longer. A messenger rushed through the corridors, forcing the young couple to pull to the side, affording him a clear path.

  Although the messenger’s eyes lingered, his task was an urgent one, and there was no slowing down. He dashed into the room, extending a letter the King as he dropped to a bended knee.

  Keeping themselves at a distance, the messenger’s arrival prompted Thane and Neyva’s return to the throne room. In no time at all, Gyles joined them.

  Riffin broke the seal on the letter, biting his tongue against the temptation to continue his conversation with his sister and his friend. Instead, he moved to unfolding the letter, holding his breath in preparation for the news that would follow. Scanning the contents, his mind racing over each word, his shoulders dropped and a breath escaped him, “She’s alive,” he said. “She’s alive and she’s on the way here—she’ll be here within a day.”

  With no time for shock, Thane nodded slowly, the news sinking in during a brief moment of silence. “I’ll make preparations for her arrival,” he said.

  Unwilling to be there for a moment longer, Neyva turned on her heel, adding, “And I’ll assist,” she said. As quickly as the three had arrived, the three left again, each with their own duties to perform before his mother’s return.

  Malia retreated, taking a seat as her gaze dropped to the floor.

  Her unease verged on palpable when Riffin glanced her way, unmistakable to him as she clutched their son to her chest. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  Malia glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “If your mother returns, you will no longer be King,” she said.

  Needless to say, it had dawned on him. Amidst all their troubles, it played at the back of his mind. “I know,” he whispered. He crouched down in front of her, searching her gaze for some semblance of relief. “That can be a good thing,” he said. “We spoke about this. She can take control. You and I can return to being husband and wife—a family—for a little while longer, without being plagued by this.”

  She shook her head, her eyes glistening, lashes wet, “And then what?” she said. “She returns. She re-takes control. The people go back to obeying her orders. Then, when she’s really gone, we’ll be back to this—nobles not taking your rule seriously.”

  “I’ll be damned if we’re back to this,” he declared, wide-eyed as he shook his head. “That won’t happen.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “Because I know better,” he said, adamantly. “Because I know what it means to be an Heir to the throne now.” He leaned in, cupping her face in his hand, “You and I are being given a second chance,” he said. “We have a chance to learn more—to do better—so that, when the time comes, we can be better.”

  A tear strolled down her cheek, quickly wiped away by Riffin’s gentle hand. “I worry for the children,” she whispered.

  He nodded slowly, feeling her words in his bones. “I know you do,” he said. “But trust me when I say that nothing—nothing—will happen to them. Not now. Not when my mother returns. Not when I retake the throne.”

  Malia took a deep breath, sighing, “What about the nobles?” she asked. “What if she decides to take a different approach?”

  He chuckled softly, shaking his head, “She won’t,” he said. Her mouth opened to protest. “I won’t let her,” he added, speaking over her concern. “She can return. She can grant them their punishment but it’s the punishment I set.”

  “And the traitors will be dealt with?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said, smirking.

  Her shoulders dropped, a soft sigh that spoke of relief escaping her. Unwilling to relent to her sadness, he stroked her cheek and stayed close for as long as it took her to smile his way. When she did, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then to their son’s head. Heaving a sigh, he rose to his feet and turned on his heel to leave. “Where are you going?” she called after him.

  “My mother isn’t back yet,” he declared. “I’ll take advantage of her absence.”

  Chapter 42

  A SINGLE DAY. A single day until the Queen’s return. Some days seemed to last an eternity; those days when so much as breathing became painful, when time seemed to slow no matter what one did.

  This wasn’t that sort of day.

  Time seemed to whirl past them all. The world around them... None of it would slow for what needed to be done.

  What needed to be done, all before the Queen’s arrival to the Capital.

  It wasn’t long before the messenger came, announcing that his father would be arriving, bringing with him the Queen the world thought to be dead.

  Assembling in the courtyard, holding their breaths, they stood, waiting. None said a word to the other. Although they wouldn’t say it, they each couldn’t help but feel a sense of scepticism... This was surreal. A year ago they were grieving for their Queen. They ended an era and started a new one.

  So much had changed since the Queen last rode out to speak to the King of Ludorum. When she’d left, Malia’s safety was still in doubt and, now, Malia stood as Queen of three kingdoms beside her husband. Lying in the nursery were two baby girls, only for them to now be joined by a younger brother.

  Thane had little role within the kingdom itself at
the time, verging on being sent away by his father if he persisted with his destructive behaviour. Now, Thane stood beside the King as a General and, perhaps, even an advisor in some circumstances.

  Neyva had been unwed. Since then, she’d been wed twice—and been through a lot more than just a couple of tumultuous marriages.

  Jared and Kara had remained guests in their household, but time and circumstance had seen them turn away from their quiet lives in the Kingdom of Azura, and return to their violent ways as the dutiful killers they once were.

  The guards lifted the gates when the carriage approached. Although they each stood tall and firm, their posture and position representative of their positions, they couldn’t help but crane their necks in an attempt to see into the carriage. It was heavily guarded, but the King’s Guard uniforms had been replaced with far simpler ones, never conveying the importance of the people within the carriage.

  Deros stepped out first, breathing a sigh as he stretched his legs. There was a pause. He lingered there for a moment longer, never greeting his family. Instead, he waited until the gate was lowered, and the large heavy doors were closed, concealing from the outside world those that had entered the Capital.

  With a nod of his head, a figure crept out of the carriage. A smile lighting up his tired and ageing face, Deros placed his hands on the cloaked-figure’s waist, lifting them from the steps and bringing them to their feet on solid ground. She seemed uneasy at first, taking to placing a hand on his shoulder for support, but it wasn’t long before her keen eye turned to those that had come to greet her.

  When she looked their way, they all froze. She was a ghost. They were faced with a ghost. She was dead and now she was back.