A Prince's Duty (The Royal Houses of Sea and Snow, #1)

by Marquez, Jude

  “Well, I am the mother to four children, queen to a country on the verge of war, with a son about to marry a foreigner who will then have the final say in all my other children’s lives. There are a few things for me to be concerned about, wouldn’t you agree?” Queen Christenne asked. Her tone was rounded at the edge by concern and love, not the icy coldness he was used to from his own parents.

  And if that was asked by any other, Alik would feel as though he were being accused of being simple or stupid for not having seen it for himself. But Queen Christenne asked it like she was discussing the weather.

  “Your Majesty, if you are concerned for your other children that I might- might use them in an unseemly manner, please let me assure you that I would rather shame myself. I adore all your children,” he swore.

  She gave him a small smile and nodded. “I have heard of you before, of the man you became after your last visit when you were but a child. One would expect that the loss of your siblings would have left you bitter but I see that is not the case.”

  Alik swallowed hard and looked out the window and to the sea. He remembered that his brother crossed that very sea in search of their little sister or the enemies that had ended her life so brutally.

  “I wasn’t always so level headed. I had- I had more than a few losses since I last left here. I don’t want to say that I am used to it, but I suppose one learns how to live,” Alik said. He tried not to think of the Grayhaven Court and the cold, hard place he had grown up in.

  “I can see that. Life teaches us what we have to learn, I think,” Queen Christenne said and she cleared her throat.

  “I would have to say that I agree.”

  Queen Christenne went quiet again and she studied the scarred table beneath her. “My son is not an easy man to live with and he is even less easy to understand. He runs hot and cold, sometimes without warning. Eamon is guarded with his feelings and feels the responsibility of every life in this land. He will be a good king, possibly even the greatest this land has ever seen. He is smarter than he lets on and rarely lets those around him see it.”

  Alik waited for the Queen to continue. He could not disagree with her assessment either. He had seen it all in Eamon himself.

  “Eamon forgets himself. When he is in the thick of battle, when he plans for a war, he forgets himself. He forgets those around him. It is hard to say, a man like him, but he needs to be taken care of. He-” Christenne frowned for a moment and traced a scar on the table. “He will not be easy to love.”

  “I fear that makes two of us,” Alik said.

  “But you are aware of it. You need to remain aware,” Christenne said and reached across the table and gripped Alik’s hand. He looked up at her and realized that she was on the verge of tears. “It is a mother’s worst nightmare that she will leave her children behind without the means to navigate this world. I hope that you will be the one that will protect my daughters and love my son and watch over his brother.”

  Alik stroked her knuckles and let her words settle before searching her face. “Is there something on your mind that you need to share with me, Your Majesty?”

  Christenne shook her head. “A mother worries, is all.”

  “I will do what I can, everything that is within my power, to take care of your family. I swear it.”

  Christenne was silent and nodded. “Then come with me. It is the real reason for my visit.”

  She stood and Alik stood with her. He opened the door for her and when Nicolin and Willhelm tried to follow them, she ordered them back to Alik’s room sharply. They hesitated but there was a silent look from the Queen that sent them scurrying.

  “These men-” she shook her head. “Some of them have resided in this castle since they were boys. We had a fever race through this town and it killed so many adults. The children remained untouched, thank the gods, but they were without homes.”

  “I have seen the orphanages. They seem to be very well taken care of,” Alik said and followed her down the hall.

  “It was my personal project. I was pregnant with Eamon and Lissandra when it began. When they were old enough, they took over and maintained them. I hope that in the future generations they will eventually close and there will be no children without a home to call their own.”

  “I can tell you, Your Highness, that sometimes what they have, the love of the priestesses and their royal family and from one another, is better than what others have. I don’t think that a family necessarily means that you will be loved.”

  Christenne looked over at him and she nodded. “Perhaps not. Perhaps you are right.”

  They went up a flight of stairs and then another. At the second flight, Christenne pulled a key from a chain around her neck and unlocked the door. There was another flight of steps and then another locked door. Another key and then Christenne was stepping into a darkened room. She opened a window and the light streamed in.

  There were alcoves lining the wall, dozens upon dozens of them. In each alcove there were three shelves. In each shelf, there was a nest of velvet, and upon the velvet sat a crown.

  In the middle of the room there was a table. On the table were six crowns. Two sat above the other four. One clearly belonged to King Therris while the other was most likely Christenne’s.

  “Each one of these crowns sat on a member of the royal family. Our crowns are precious to us and only worn on exceptional occasions. Your wedding day, we will wear them. Your coronation day and the birth of your children as well. The crowns here are sacred and therefore, only one person ever knows the location and has access to them. Well, now two,” Christenne said and she traced the a raised edge of her own crown. “Eamon has only seen his own crown a few times and worn it even less. He has a very plain crown that he wears into battle but this one,” she paused and tapped the table next to the largest crown of the four, “Will be the one he wears on your wedding day.”

  “At home, we wear our crowns constantly,” Alik said and touched the velvet of Eamon’s crown lightly.

  “I know. It will be a change when he goes to your lands,” she said.

  He snorted. “I wish to remain here and to govern through my chancellor. Perhaps my future brother in law would like a job. One of my future sisters?”

  “Oh to tear my children from the sun and the water would devastate them. You might have to sweeten the deal,” Christenne said.

  “Whatever they want, so long as I don’t have to return to Grayhaven for a long time,” Alik said, trying to sound as though he were teasing but failing miserably.

  “Does it pain you so much? That place?”

  “After here and your family and your guards and your court and your friendship? So much, my lady. I wish never to return,” Alik muttered.

  “Then as King, you can make it so,” Christenne pulled out a box from a drawer hidden below the table. It was wooden and she flipped it open. In it, there was a mirror image of Eamon’s crown. The only difference was the emeralds that were inlaid in Eamon’s crown were replaced with sapphires in this second crown. “We have waited for who Eamon would choose to marry. Plans for both crowns had long been in the making. When it became clear that it would be you-” Christenne gestured.

  “This is mine?” Alik asked.

  “It is. Do you like it?”

  “I do,” Alik breathed. The crowns from his own country were not quite as ornate, simply because they were worn so often.

  Christenne smiled and raised her hand to Eamon’s. “Do you think he will look very handsome in it?” She asked.

  Alik wanted to snort but Christenne was waiting for a genuine answer. He imagined this crown on Eamon’s head, golden and arrogant as the man himself and he couldn’t help but smile.

  “All of your children are beautiful, Your Majesty, but if my biased opinion must be heard, Eamon is by far the most breathtaking,” he replied honestly.

  The Queen’s smile was blinding and she handed him the two keys from around her neck. “I am glad you think so because h
e is your responsibility now.”

  WHEN CHRISTENNE LEFT Alik in the halls outside his room, he couldn’t help but raise a hand to the chains around his neck. He felt a little blank, as though he were truly understanding what kind of responsibility was laid at his feet.

  “Where is the Prince?” He asked out loud, though his voice was faint to his own ears.

  “I believe he would be at the arena still, Your Highness,” Willhelm said.

  “Thank you,” Alik said and turned for the stairs.

  The two knights ran after him, unsure of what was going on.

  Alik led them outside and to the sparring arena but paused outside the actual ring. He didn’t want to interrupt Eamon’s time with his men, especially after all that Eamon had done for him.

  But it was too late. Edmond spotted him and waved from his spot high atop the fence. A moment later, Eamon’s head appeared next to him.

  “I thought you were going to take time for yourself!” Eamon called. His joy was obvious and he was sweaty and his cheeks were bright with color. This was how Alik wanted to always see him; wildly happy.

  But he must have seen something on Alik’s face that gave him pause and he pulled himself up and over the fence and dropped over the side.

  Alik laughed, a little hysterically, and then put a hand over his mouth. Eamon approached him slowly, like he was a wild animal, and pulled his hand away from his mouth. “Are you feeling well?” He asked.

  Alik nodded but didn’t trust himself to say the words.

  Eamon glanced behind him to Willhelm and Nicolin.

  “Your mother came and spoke to him and they went for a short walk. When he came back, he was in the state you see him now,” Willhelm said.

  Eamon still did not seem like he understood what was happening, but he nodded anyway. Alik didn’t want him to pull away or let go of his hand because it felt like the only thing that was keeping him from shattering into a million pieces upon the ground.

  “Should we go for a walk?” Eamon asked.

  “No- I’m being ridiculous- I should not have-” Alik started.

  “Then let us go for a walk,” Eamon said, like Alik agreed with him. He looked back to Willhelm. “You two have drills.”

  They murmured their agreement and headed for the ring. The last thing that Alik saw before Eamon pulled him away from the ring was Edmond’s worried face watching them. Eamon pulled him away and down a small path. As always, Alik could hear the ocean crashing against the cliffs.

  “I love it here,” Alik said quietly.

  Eamon nodded. He didn’t seem too concerned with getting Alik to talk but he didn’t move his hand from Alik’s back either. It was warm and grounding.

  “I don’t ever want to leave here.”

  Eamon smirked. “I have no argument. I do not wish to leave here either.”

  Alik nodded. They fell silent again until they came to the edge of the grassy cliff and looked out on the sea.

  “I know, vaguely, of your history with the Vresal nation,” Alik began slowly. It was easier to talk about something that was not on his mind than to be concerned about what was on his mind. It quieted his thoughts.

  “I think most people do,” Eamon agreed.

  “Would you- why? Why has it always been like this?” Alik asked.

  Eamon looked out on the sea. There was no crown, no guards, no one calling him by his title, but Alik had never seen such a king in his life. He knew, without a single doubt, that Eamon would be a king, a leader, no matter what kind of life he led.

  He was silent for so long that Alik was prepared to apologize when Eamon started to speak.

  “Did you know that we are related to the Vresal royal house?” Eamon asked.

  Alik shook his head.

  “Distantly, but you are able to trace the blood easily. The king of Vresal, Roule, is my cousin. He is older than me by twenty summers at least, but he is a cold, angry man. Our grandfather’s grandfathers were brothers. King Bartrem, my grandfather, ruled over the Isles and the land that now belong to the Vresal. His brother, Prince Ourri, was his closest advisor and friend, and when Ourri came of age, he wed a beautiful princess and as a gift, Bartrem gave them the Vresal lands. The plains, the mountains, Ourri and his beautiful wife would rule over them in Bartrem’s name.”

  Alik nodded.

  “But Bartrem was like us, I suppose. He didn’t wish to leave the Isles. The Vresal lands were supposed to have their own beauty, but Bartrem preferred his sea. So he ruled from here, with his own wife and his two sons and two daughters.”

  “Like your family,” Alik murmured.

  Eamon snorted. “My father is barely a fraction the man that King Bartrem was.”

  Alik smiled faintly.

  “As time passed, Ourri grew tired of asking his brother for permission for any reason. He grew greedy and then named himself King of the lands and renamed it the Vresal. King Bartrem tried to reason with him, tried to treat with him but refused to call him king. At such a meeting, Ourri attacked and killed Bartrem and threw his body into the sea. Upon hearing of her father’s death, his eldest daughter, Princess Evalyn, rallied the army and invaded the Vresal land.”

  “A woman led the army?” Alik asked, in awe.

  “Princess Evalyn was more than a woman. She was a Queen, a warrior, and her father’s favored. She fought like a lioness, laid waste to everyone who stood in her way. The army was like her very own spear. She desecrated their land, salted it, burned it all down and when she finally met her uncle on the killing fields, he begged for mercy. Before she was done with him, he begged for death. But she let Ourri’s Queen keep the land. Queen Evalyn said that nothing would grow there, that it would rot and the earth would have its own revenge. And so it has. Their land refuses to give anything back to them. Their people starve. The royal house hates their people as much as their people hate them.”

  Alik turned back to the sea, thinking of Queen Evalyn invading their lands and laying a curse there that would haunt them for generations.

  “I suppose it’s revenge but I suppose also that their land is so far gone that they need something else. The lands that we have, to the south of the islands, are plentiful. There is room for farms, for lumber, for any manner of things. But the man who calls himself king, Roule, wants to rule over it all as he has his whole life. I will not let him enslave my people. Not as long as I can fight him.”

  Alik nodded.

  “I fought and killed Roule’s oldest son at the Battle of the Sons. That was my crowning achievement,” Eamon said quietly.

  “You are more than your battles,” Alik said, the words out of his mouth before he could weigh his words.

  Eamon smiled. “But I was never supposed to be.”

  “And I don’t suppose that we were ever supposed to be what we are now,” Alik noted. He kept his eyes firmly on the sea. Their conversation seemed to be drifting into dangerous territory.

  “And what is that, my Prince?” Eamon asked. The possessive note in his voice made Alik shiver and he wanted to hear it again and again.

  “I’m not sure, but I am happy to hear what your thoughts are on the subject,” Alik said and finally looked up and over at Eamon.

  Eamon stared down at him and then turned to him. He was silhouetted by the sun and he was but a shadow in Alik’s eyes. Eamon raised a hand to his cheek and cupped Alik’s face gently, so gently that it surprised Alik. He closed his eyes to the soft touch and tilted his head up.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, Alik knew. It wasn’t supposed to end on a happy note. Alik was never supposed to get what he wanted and to get it so easily.

  “My Prince,” Eamon murmured, his lips brushing over Alik’s own.

  “Hm?” Alik asked.

  “You seem to be in need of something.”

  Eamon was right. Alik needed more than what he could properly say but he knew that he found it on this island, with this man that he thought was nothing but a brute, but who haunted his every th
ought and who Alik thought of in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, restless for the touch of someone who wanted something as much as he did.

  “I would have to agree, my King,” Alik whispered and opened his eyes to see Eamon’s eyes studying him.

  Eamon smirked. “We do not use such titles until they are given to us.”

  “But you are, are you not? My King? My protector? Even before I came here and we agreed to this, you protected me in Cerith.”

  Alik thought of that single move, when he taunted Evander’s father in Cerith, how Eamon stepped in front of him to stop Serlo from harming him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Eamon to come to his aid.

  “I suppose I am,” Eamon agreed and traced Alik’s lower lip with his thumb.

  “How can I ever repay you?” Alik breathed.

  “I don’t seek payment for what I do.”

  “Then shall I show my gratitude?” Alik raised his hands and slipped his fingers in the belt around Eamon’s chiton and pulled him close. “My appreciation?”

  “If you so chose, my Prince,” Eamon said and ducked his head down and pressed his lips to Alik’s.

  It was so sudden that Alik gasped and Eamon pressed even further and Alik could swear he grew weak when Eamon’s tongue swept over his lips and then into his mouth. He raised his arms so that he could entangle his fingers in Eamon’s hair, loosened it from the leather strap that held it back, and Alik felt the groan from Eamon when he tugged lightly on the strands.

  Alik would have let this tryst go on as long as they dared, out here in the open, under the sun, before the ocean and the waves, if someone had not cleared their throat from the path behind them.

  “Someone seeks their death,” Eamon said when he pulled away from Alik.

  “So it seems,” Alik agreed.

  When they turned, Avelina stood there, her hands over her eyes.

  “They sent you because they knew I would not reprimand or attack you,” Eamon said.

  “Yes,” Avelina said.

  “We are needed back at the castle,” Alik gathered.