Golden Chains

by M. Lynn

  The healer held a cup to Alex’s lips and the most delicious liquid slid down his throat. It tasted of honey. Drowsiness overtook him immediately, and he laid back. Hands pressed into the bare skin underneath the collar of his shirt and the pain began to ebb away as warmth filled him. He’d never felt so at peace as he drifted off.

  Two people spoke in hushed tones as Alex woke and everything came rushing back to him.

  “Do you think she’s okay?” the girl asked.

  “I think the extent of his injuries last night gives us the answer to that,” her father answered.

  “We have to get her out of there.”

  “We must be patient. Our queen will not forgive us if we act in haste.”

  Queen? Were they speaking of his mother? In his half-awake state, none of their words registered. He shifted on the bed and the voices stopped immediately.

  The healer rushed toward him. “You’re awake, your Majesty. Good.”

  “What time is it?” Alex asked.

  “Nearly noon.”

  “What?” Alex shot up, marveling at being pain free for the first morning in weeks. He’d missed dinner the previous night with his mother and sister, not to mention a full morning of meetings.

  “The girl who came with you last night returned earlier, but you needed your sleep. That tonic is strong.”

  “I have to go.” Alex jumped from the bed and pulled on his boots.

  “When it happens again,” the healer began, “return to us.”

  Alex stopped at the door and turned, finally taking in the healer and his daughter with a lucid mind. They had magic. They were breaking the law with every breath.

  The healer met his eye, not in challenge but in question. Pierre. Alex remembered him now. Maiya revealed Etta’s identity to him to save her father Pierre.

  What was Alex going to do? They’d risked everything in helping him.

  Alex shifted his eyes away and shook his head as he ducked out of the doorway and hoped he was doing the right thing.

  His father would be ashamed of him. First, he’d let Edmund go. Then he didn’t chase down his brother. Now these two. It seemed everyone he was protecting went against the laws of Gaule and the will of his father.

  But his father was no longer there. Alex was king and he wouldn’t condemn the innocent to die.

  It was for those reasons he’d instructed his guards to remove Etta from the cells. She had magic. She was the daughter of his father’s killer. But he wouldn’t leave her to rot.

  If only she hadn’t refused his mercy.

  He waved to the guards manning the inner gate as he strode by and crossed the courtyard to the front steps. Once inside the great entryway, his duties beckoned for his attention. Geoff was speaking to two of the servants when Alex spotted him. He took his leave of the girls and ran toward his king.

  “Sire, we had no idea where you were.” He bowed.

  “Amalie didn’t tell you I was with the healer in the outer castle?”

  “We questioned her, your Majesty, and she swore she didn’t know. She was quite adamant.”

  Alex suppressed a smile. He’d have to thank her later.

  “A few of the nobles have been looking for you. Lord Leroy has been yelling at all the servants to find you.”

  Alex adjusted his sleep-wrinkled clothing and began walking. “They can wait. I must see my mother.”

  Geoff motioned to two other guards and the three of them escorted him to his mother’s door. Her personal guard stood outside of it. He was a young man, no older than Alex, and the queen mother trusted him. But Alex had learned not to trust anyone. Including his mother.

  The guard opened the door to her rooms and Alex shut it behind him, keeping Geoff from following him.

  His mother sat on her velvet couch with her needlework in her lap. She looked up as the door shut and her needle fell from her grasp. She pushed the material off her lap and stood.

  “Alexandre,” she breathed. “You missed dinner last night and I wasn’t sure I’d see you.”

  Alex walked toward her and some of the cracks that’d formed over the last few weeks began to fill. He hadn’t visited her in her confinement. He’d been too angry. All remnants of that anger faded away as he watched her.

  “I released you days ago and I’m told you still haven’t left your rooms.”

  She lowered her gaze. “That isn’t exactly true. I went to the dungeons last night.”

  Alex froze, his heart pounding in his ears. She’d seen Etta. He sank down into a chair across from her. She sat back down slowly.

  “You went to see her.”

  “I did.”

  He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “What did she say?”

  A flash of fear crossed her face, but she shook it away. “I’m not going to tell you what you’ve done is right, Alexandre. You want me to say she revealed some evil plan, that she truly is our enemy. She was angry, I won’t deny that. She said some things I won’t repeat to the king. I’m afraid, son.”

  “You’re scared? Of Etta?”

  “Aren’t you? That’s why you had her brought back here and locked up. We all know the stories of the Basiles.”

  His eyes snapped to hers, remembering what he’d been told after Viktor’s death. “You’re saying it’s true? You’re telling me they’re those Basiles? It’s a common enough Belaen name.”

  She reached out to place her hand on his. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Persinette and Viktor Basile are the last descendants of the legendary line.”

  “The line that has been true to Gaule for generations… before the magic purge.”

  “Not by choice. The legends are true. The Basiles have been cursed to protect the Durands for generations. Etta is tied to you.”

  He jumped to his feet and stumbled away from the chair to pace the length of the room. “How is any of this possible?”

  His mother’s somber eyes bore into him. “Our world is one where impossibilities rule the land. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is forbidden. There is no true good or wholly evil. Everything we think we know is about to be challenged, my dear boy. Gaule is no longer protected. Now all we can do is survive.”

  She got to her feet and walked toward him. “Persinette Basile could have been our greatest ally. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “I have to see her.”

  “Be warned, she has not been treated well. That was the main reason I wanted to see you. Please, Alexandre, tell me you did not order such rough treatment.”

  “What are you talking about?” he snapped.

  His mother sighed. “You will see. Go. Make it right.”

  Chapter Three

  Etta woke feeling better than she had in weeks. Warmth flooded her body throughout the night, putting her into a deep slumber. Her limbs no longer ached as if she’d been run over by a herd of horses.

  She sat up slowly, expecting the pain to come. Scanning her pale skin, her eyes widened at the sight of unmarked skin. The bruises were gone. Her fingers probed her face gently and found it healed as well.

  Even the weakness that constantly plagued her was gone. She felt like the old Etta. Her hands itched for a sword or a staff to train with. Not there. When she was free, she’d have all the time to practice.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps hurrying her way. Crouching in the shadows of her cell, she waited.

  The guard who appeared was not the one she expected. He was an older man with a kind, weathered face. His armor spoke of his high rank in the Gaule forces. He peered through the bars, his eyes finally finding her.

  “Persinette,” he said quietly.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “A friend.”

  “I don’t have any friends in the palace.”

  He laughed, a sound that was foreign in the dungeons. “You’d be surprised. Come here.”

  She straightened out of her crouch and walked tentatively toward the bars.

  He reached his arm through and flip
ped his hand to open his palm, revealing a meager yellow flower.

  A sob broke past her lips as she hesitantly took it. Her magic had been quiet for so long and now it buzzed in her veins. A tear fell from her lashes, tracking down her cheek.

  “That’s from another friend of yours,” the old man said. “She said it would give you hope.”

  “Maiya,” Etta whispered, holding the flower to her chest. Maiya was the reason she’d been caught, but she’d given Etta up to save her father. As hard as she might try, she couldn’t fault her friend for that. It felt good to know she wasn’t alone, wasn’t forgotten in that dreadful place.

  The world continued on outside those stone walls and she was no longer part of it, but she would be.

  The old guard leaned in and dropped his voice. “I am Simon of the king’s own guard. Don’t lose faith, Persinette Basile. Descendants of Bela are woven into the very fabric of Gaule. We’re everywhere and we have not forgotten our queen.”

  She thought about the words she’d said to Henry, but he was just a boy. She shook her head. “I’m no queen.”

  “You’re right.” He winked. “First, we have to regain our kingdom and then we can have a queen. Your family has our allegiance and we will get you out of here.”

  Her voice was barely audible as she said, “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head and left.

  Etta stared at the flower in her hands and let her magic flow into it as if it had never stopped. The yellow brightened to a vibrant shade as it began to grow. The wilted petals strengthened and smoothed. Her body hummed with contentment.

  She spent hours shrinking it and growing it and crafting the flower to perfection. Her mind was so lost in her magic, she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone anymore until a throat cleared.

  The flower fell from her grasp as her eyes locked onto Alex’s. How long had he been there?

  He looked the same as he had weeks ago, but what had she expected? Her heart squeezed traitorously, and the curse pulled her toward the bars. She wrapped her hands around them.

  Neither of them broke their silent standoff until he stepped closer. “My mother led me to believe you’d been mistreated.”

  She snorted. “Because being locked in here is treating me well.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He ran a hand over the top of his head nervously. “I thought my guards had been hurting you, but you look… well.”

  She tightened her grip on the bars. “I look well? Don’t let my lack of bruises fool you into thinking you aren’t an evil bastard.”

  He growled. “I have been trying to save you from this fate for weeks.”

  “Liar.”

  “You’re the reason you’re still here. You’ve been refusing the offer from Geoff.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He stepped back. “You don’t, do you?” His jaw tightened. “I want you moved into the palace.”

  “Oh, your mother mentioned that.” She leaned forward with an icy smile. “I refused.” Pushing away from the bars, she stepped farther back into the cell.

  “Be reasonable. You don’t belong here.”

  “I’d still be a prisoner in your household, correct?”

  He winced. “I can’t release you.”

  She hummed deep in her throat as she studied him. “I belong down here with my people more than I do with you.”

  He swallowed hard. “Etta.” His voice hardened. “Tell me. Was it all fake? Was it just the curse?”

  Her momentary shock at his knowledge of the curse faded quickly, and she averted her gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” he growled.

  “Why did you come here, Alex? Was it to finally look into the eyes of your old friend, Persinette? Was it to see if your lover was still here? Do you even know who I am?”

  “Persinette Basile.”

  “You can’t even begin to understand who I am. La Dame was our enemy before yours. She destroyed my kingdom and my family. She tied us to you. Only a true born Basile heir can challenge her.”

  “How am I supposed to believe a legend that has never been proven true?”

  She turned her back on him. “When we were children, I knew one day I’d have to serve you. I’ve known my entire life you were meant to be my enemy, but I was a naïve girl, thinking it was your family name and not you I’d have to hate. I thought you were different from your father.” She twisted to face him once again. “But then you continued jailing magic folk, and I told myself it was because you couldn’t change a kingdom’s laws all at once. Next you imprisoned your best friend, a man who still loves you for reasons none of us can fathom. I forgave you because you also helped him escape—as long as no one knew you did it. You allowed the Black Forest to be raided. Then your own mother sent your brother away for fear of what the king—you—would do if you learned of his magic.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I no longer see you with Persinette’s childish hope, but with Etta’s more experienced perspective. I loved you, Alex. I don’t know if it was because of the blasted curse but it blinded me. Now I finally see. You will always be an enemy of Bela, an enemy of mine.”

  He sagged back against the wall, breathing heavily. His eyes latched onto the flower on the ground behind her and then rose to her face. “You created the meadow of flowers in the forest.”

  She sighed and bent to lift the flower, holding it to her nose. She inhaled and closed her eyes.

  “Etta,” Alex pleaded.

  “My name is Persinette.” Her cracked lips pinched together. “The Etta you knew does not exist.”

  “Persinette, my mother claims we could be allies.”

  “We could have been.”

  “Let me take you to more comfortable quarters. Please.”

  “Will the rest of my people you’ve imprisoned be given those same ‘comfortable quarters?’”

  The expression that crossed his face was answer enough.

  “Then I will stand by what I said. A gilded cage is still a cage, is it not?”

  “Please, Et-Persinette. Work with me.”

  “No. You no longer have my trust, your Majesty. I have said all I’m going to say. You may go.”

  She lowered herself to the center of her cell and crossed her legs as she focused on the flower once again. He hesitated for a moment before storming away.

  She wanted to get out of her cell, but her people would come for her and she believed in them more than she did the king.

  As his footsteps faded away, she folded in on herself, her back shaking with sobs. The curse pulled and strained, wanting to go after him. She wanted more than anything to be able to hate him, but Alexandre Durand had embedded himself in her tattered soul.

  Hollowness threatened to overwhelm Alex, and it was his own darn fault. He stormed into his room and slammed the door shut in his guard’s face. He deserved everything she’d said to him. What kind of king was he? He couldn’t protect his people. He couldn’t uphold laws he wasn’t sure he even believed in anymore.

  He collapsed onto the couch in front of the barren fireplace. The days grew colder and soon it would be roaring with life. He longed to feel its heat. As boys, he and Edmund played games with the fire, daring each other to touch the flames in a bold show of strength. He’d never been burned, but he’d been filled with joy as he sat in that very room vibrating with laughter. Everything had been simple back then.

  Even when he was missing his friend Persinette, Edmund had been there. He’d thought of her often, hoping she was alive. He’d never had to doubt wherever she was, she was a survivor. It had killed him to wonder if she hated him for everything his family had done.

  Now he knew she did, and it hurt worse than any pain he’d ever felt.

  His torn sketchbook taunted him from the table and he ripped his eyes away, remembering the night he’d flung it, vowing he was done with the useless trade. A king didn’t have time for pretty dr
awings, especially when they reminded him of everything he’d lost.

  Unable to sit in that room any longer, he sprang to his feet and strode purposefully toward the door.

  It was nearing evening, and the palace was buzzing with activity. His guards kept their distance, but others were not so courteous. A servant in the royal livery rushed toward him. “Sire, Lord Leroy has been looking for you all day.”

  “He can keep looking.”

  No such luck. As he descended into the practice yard, Lord Leroy was waiting at the bottom of the steps with Camille.

  “Where have you been, your Majesty?” he asked sternly.

  Alex bristled at his tone. “That is none of your concern.”

  “It is when there are important matters you have been neglecting.”

  Alex continued walking toward the swords leaning against a wooden table. He shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his collar. Rolling up his sleeves, he turned back to the serpents behind him.

  “Brother,” Camille began. “We must discuss the prisoners.”

  “Yes,” Lord Leroy agreed. “We must have a show of strength to prove Gaule isn’t so easily attacked.”

  Alex barely heard them as he turned back around to pick out a practice sword.

  “Your Majesty,” Lord Leroy snapped.

  Alex kept his back to the upstart as he spoke. “Tell you what, my lord, why don’t you and my dear sister do something for a change. Before my father, the kings didn’t rule alone. Their councils actually did things to help the realm. You’re my council. You can begin forming a plan without me and I will join you. Now go.”

  “Alexandre,” Camille chastised.

  “My entire life, all you people have tried to get me to take my training seriously. Now that I finally have enough anger to stab something, you won’t leave me alone.” He gripped the hilt of a sword and swung it once to test its weight.

  Lord Leroy grumbled as he walked away. Camille followed him and the air became much less suffocating.

  The soldiers in the training yard were so wrapped up in their workouts they barely noticed him. His reputation preceded him and they didn’t expect their king to be there with a sword in his hand.