Sins of Basilia (Shrouded Thrones Book 4)

by Jeanne Hardt

  “No…” Carmela’s chin vibrated. “In Angeline’s care, he would not be given the chance to see the light of day.” She took several deep breaths and sat taller. “If our realms are at war, I must return to Thanwine. Without my brothers, my people will require my leadership.”

  “Do you not fear for your own life?”

  “Angeline is not threatened by a queen and certainly not by me.” She moistened her lips. “You, however, Father, are not safe. Your death is the final step in her wicked plan. Once you are no more, she can claim herself high queen.”

  Yakar openly laughed. “Can you hear yourself, Sister?” He pushed Pasha from him and nudged Flint, who sat to his other side. “If something should befall our father, he has many, many sons to take his place. Besides, why do you believe she will give any regard to Issa? No one from any realm has ever seen us as a threat. We go about our lives as we please and do not engage in the games of your kingdoms.”

  Flint chuckled along with him, but said nothing.

  “This is no game!” Carmela again stood. “There is a prophecy Angeline intends to fulfill, and in it, all kings must die!”

  “Ridiculous,” Yakar grumbled.

  “Father,” Carmela pleaded, “please make him understand.”

  The man rubbed his chin and let out a breath. “How can I, when I do not believe it myself? Your sister was taken quickly from the field, along with Queen Becca and Princess Estelle. Dekker told me their grief was unconceivable. Queen Angeline had no hand in what transpired in that arena. She did not call the men to war, they brought it upon themselves.”

  He pushed his chair back and slowly stood as if the simple action alone took great strength. “I will leave you to consider all I have said, and allow you to mourn. I, too, am grieving, for in the night, Mesha ceased breathing.”

  Expressionless, Queen Udelle bounced her infant in her arms. Throughout the king’s entire retelling, none of his family displayed emotion—aside from Yakar, whose rudeness showed, yet he gave no comfort to his grieving wife. And surely, he had known of his mother’s passing, proving the despicable prince had no heart.

  Tesher rose to his feet and took Carmela’s hand. “Let us return to our chamber.” He looked at his sister. “Pasha, will you come with us?”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I…” She faced her husband, who shook his head, then turned to Tesher. “I must stay with Yakar. He grieves for his mother, and I am needed to ease him.”

  Grieves? Was she that blinded by love?

  Fury replaced Tesher’s pain. Something that oftentimes happened in regard to his sister’s farce of a marriage. “What of your grief? Our father and brother are dead!”

  She burst out crying.

  “Shame, Tesher,” Yakar hissed. “Have you no feelings? You have further upset my wife.”

  Carmela put an arm around Tesher’s waist. “Come with me.”

  He stared at Pasha, wanting more than anything to free her of the beast, but succumbed to Carmela and walked with her from the room.

  They returned to their bedchamber as solemnly as they had left it. Dazed and confused, he followed her to the bed. They lay down, held each other, and released their pain. No longer did he hold back tears. He grieved for his father, his brother, Marni, and Estelle. And when he thought of his mother, even more tears came forth. He had thought he had seen her broken before, but he feared she would now be shattered beyond repair.

  Chapter 23

  Six days had passed since the bloody battle at the Crenian ruins, and as of yet, no armies had come forth against Basilia. Even so, rumblings of fear continued throughout the kingdom, making Angeline’s people restless.

  No longer was she troubled with Estelle and Becca. The sisters had chosen to travel to Thanwine with Darius, Crispa, and Varlan’s lifeless body. Angeline had to endure Estelle’s endless wailing over Eural, and her indecision as to where she should go. Too afraid to venture to Oros, she instead decided to remain with her sister.

  Glad to be rid of them, Angeline made no effort to encourage them to stay.

  With Lukah loyally at her side, she paraded through the streets of Basilia. She had chosen to walk, rather than ride within a carriage, needing her people to see her as one of them, and more importantly, unafraid.

  She held her head high, courageous, and bold. Commoners flocked around her and went so far as to throw flowers at her feet and offer their blessings.

  An old woman with silver hair approached. She walked with a limp and carried a small bundle of daisies. She extended the flowers, then bowed low. “God be with you, my queen.” Her voice was old and shaky, but no less sincere.

  Others stood nearby. No better opportunity could have been manufactured, let alone come into fruition of its own accord.

  Angeline stepped close to her, took the daisies and passed them to Lukah, then cupped a hand over the old woman’s head. “God bless you, dear lady. What is your name?”

  “Shifra, Your Majesty.” She kept her eyes focused downward.

  As gently as she could, Angeline tucked two fingers under Shifra’s chin and lifted her head. “You show me great honor, coming to me while struggling to walk. How do those in your household fare?”

  “We have no complaints, Your Majesty.” Her eyes jerked as she raised them to meet Angeline’s gaze. No doubt she felt unworthy in doing so.

  “Have you enough food?” Angeline cast her sincerest smile.

  “We have abundant vegetables, but we lack meat.” She blinked several times. “Though it matters not, my queen,” she quickly added. “Our bellies are full. We need not ask for more.”

  “How many live with you?”

  “There are nine in our dwelling.”

  Angeline pivoted toward Lukah. “See to it that Shifra is brought meat from the royal butcher. Enough to allow all nine a fine feast.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lukah dipped his head, then faced the old woman. “I know your people. You can expect me to arrive at your cottage before the sun sets.”

  “Bless you!” Again, the woman bowed, then backed away, turned, and limped off.

  Bystanders muttered their approval and added more blessings. This simple act alone accomplished what Angeline had set out to do. It would make the planned rumors much easier for the commoners to accept.

  The sound of a galloping horse drew her attention. The rider stopped the animal close to where she and Lukah stood.

  “My man, Eckhardt,” Lukah said.

  Eckhardt dipped his head. “Your Majesty.”

  She smiled up at him. “What brings you? The speed at which you were riding tells me of urgency.”

  “Prince Yakar of Issa has arrived at the castle and requests an audience with you.”

  Not what she expected in the least, but a pleasant surprise regardless. “Very well. Return to the castle and inform the prince I will meet with him within the hour. Have him wait for me in the great hall.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Eckhardt clicked to his horse and sped away.

  “The great hall?” Lukah tipped his head. “Did you not tell me it brings ill reminders of your late husband?”

  “Indeed.” Her young guard had already proven his devotion—never questioning her orders—and soon she would take things with him a step further. “However, it would be highly inappropriate to entertain the prince in my bedchamber. Do you not agree?”

  “I do,” Lukah said rigidly. “Especially an Issan prince who has no scruples. You are a beautiful woman. If you were to invite him into your bedchamber, he might misunderstand your intentions and attempt to compromise you.”

  They turned and walked back toward the castle.

  Although she did not respond to his compliment, it pleased her to have him so openly praise her appearance. She rubbed across her belly. “Being compromised would be a horrible ordeal, considering my delicate condition.”

  “Yes, my queen.” He extended his arm. “Allow me to assist you as we walk.”

  She happily pla
ced her hand in the crook of his elbow. They paraded the remainder of the way without speaking to one another, but it was far from silent. Shouts of admiration continued until they reached the inner walls of the castle.

  Black, black, or black…

  Angeline giggled as she thumbed through her assortment of dreary gowns and selected the one most form-fitting.

  Yakar’s unexpected arrival had her contemplating every possible reason, but she could not set her mind to one in particular. The anticipation of discovering his intentions made her giddy.

  She quickly dressed, then left her room, properly veiled.

  Ever since that blessed day of bloodshed, Lukah had positioned a guard at her door. At times, she wished she had not advanced him to a position of leadership, but rather kept him as her personal sentry. Then he would be the one constantly near. Even so, because he led her men, she had good reason to request his presence for counsel and ask that he be brought to her. And unlike the upcoming meeting with Yakar, all business with Lukah would remain within the walls of her bedchamber.

  The guard on duty stiffened as she passed and stood tall. She gave him little regard and hastened down the corridor to the great hall, where she found Yakar fingering the dark shroud that covered the high king’s throne.

  She lightly cleared her throat.

  He turned and faced her, smiling. “My queen,” he said in the same rich tone she remembered. “I hope I did not interrupt your time in the village.” He sauntered toward her with his head held high.

  “News of your arrival was quite unexpected, but I had finished what I set out to do. You caused no interruption.” She extended a hand, and he readily kissed it. “What brings you to Basilia?”

  He eyed the guards positioned at both entryways, then gestured to some chairs. “Shall we sit? There are pressing matters I wish to discuss.” He moistened his lips, drawing her gaze. Far too handsome, the man’s simple presence prompted heat throughout her body.

  He helped her into a chair, then took his own. “News came to Issa of the unrest in the realms. How are you faring?”

  She held a hand to her bosom. “Unrest? What was meant to be a match of strength transformed into a bloody massacre. Our world is not what it once was, and it will take great effort to regain peace across the lands.” She sat back and folded her hands on her lap. “My people are suffering, therefore, how I fare matters not.”

  “I meant no offense. I am merely concerned for your unborn child.” He smiled, yet something more lay in his eyes. She recognized scheming. “Surely, the many losses you have suffered have been more than upsetting, and with the future of Basilia residing in your womb, your wellbeing is of the highest importance.”

  “At present, I am Basilia’s future. And not only do I care for the people of my realm, my concern extends to every kingdom.” In no mood for games, she sat tall. “Why are you truly here, Prince Yakar?”

  He lightly chuckled, then leaned forward. “I am almost embarrassed to say.”

  “You do not strike me as a man who is self-conscious. Quite the contrary. I see you as someone self-assured. A quality I also possess. Nothing you might say will bother me. So, say what you will without fear of shame.”

  “Very well.” He jutted his chin. “My father indicated he declined the high throne, but I desire it. I am next in line, so tell me what I must do—by your laws—to claim it.”

  She stifled a laugh, glad to have her face covered by her veil. “Such a bold young man. Is King Imran aware of your intent?”

  “No. His mind has been elsewhere. My mother recently passed, and I chose not to trouble him with my intentions.”

  “It pains me to hear of Queen Mesha. When you see your father, please offer my condolences.” She studied the eager prince, and her thoughts tumbled. Perhaps he would present her with the opportunity of which Denali had spoken. Yakar could prove to be a genuine Godsend.

  He sadly nodded and lowered his head, yet she did not perceive true grief.

  “If you indeed desire the high throne,” she said, and his head popped right up again, “you yourself must first be a king.”

  He pulled his shoulders back. “If that is so, allow me to wed you, and we can rule together.”

  This time, she released her laughter. “You know very well, that is not how things are done. If I took you as my husband, you would continue to be a prince, not a king, and I would reign above you.” She set a hand on his knee. “Although, I am flattered you find the idea appealing.”

  He rested his hand atop hers and peered into her eyes. “When I arrived for King Frederick’s funeral, I felt an immediate attraction to you, and I believe you reciprocated my feelings. Since then, I have frequently contemplated what it would be like to have you.”

  “I see…” She pursed her lips and pulled away from him. “Come to me again as a king, and I may oblige you.”

  His brows creased. “It could be years before my father abdicates. By then, your child—should it be a boy—will be sitting on the throne. My intentions would be for naught.”

  “Your frustration is evident, yet I cannot understand why you desire the high throne. Issa has never concerned itself with the other realms. You keep to yourselves and consume bliss. Why bother with ugliness?”

  “I want more than Issa has to offer.” He puffed out his chest. “I grow tired of people seeing me simply as a lustful Issan who dallies with whomever I please. As it so happens, I have a capable mind.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “With my ideas for increased trade between the realms, you and I together could create an utter paradise across the lands. Is that not more desirable than bloodshed?”

  “I appreciate inspired concepts, but what of Pasha? Did you and she not run off together in defiance of her father? Perhaps I should assume you have already tired of her?”

  “I married her.” He cocked his head and smirked. “As you are well aware, I am permitted more than one wife.”

  “And many dalliances as you so readily reminded me,” Angeline said with spite. “What makes you believe I would want to be one of many?”

  “You would hold that against me? Regardless of what I have to offer with my intellect?”

  She could not retain her laughter in the slightest. “You are more than self-assured, you are overly arrogant. How can you assume you have more to offer than others whom I might choose to align with?”

  “Your choices have become limited—if you desire a royal. All I ask is that you give me the opportunity to prove my worthiness. I could teach you our ways, for I sense a strong sensuality in you, Angeline. Not only would I help you grow our realms, I believe I could bring you incredible pleasure.”

  She grunted. “You are so much like your father.” Time to stoke the fire. “Did he tell you he offered to comfort me in my bedchamber when last I saw him?”

  “We do not discuss such things.”

  “Truly? I assumed you Issans eagerly tell tales of your many conquests. When made aware of his coupling with my mother, I rebuked him.”

  Yakar scowled. “He was foolish. He disobeyed our laws, knowing full well he should not bed a queen. If he told you about your mother, I assume he also enlightened you to the truth of Carmela’s parentage, and that he is her father.”

  “Yes, he told me. I always knew she was tainted. Had my eyes been fully open, I would have seen their resemblance years ago.”

  Yakar looked away, then faced her again. “Are you aware your sister had been in hiding in our realm with Prince Tesher of Oros?”

  “So that is where they went off to…” Surely, by now, King Imran had made Carmela aware of the truth as well. “You said, had. Are they no longer there?”

  “When they learned of Talman’s death, they chose to return to Thanwine. I assume they have just recently arrived. You see…Carmela presumed Prince Varlan also perished, having been wounded in the battle, and she felt the urgency to go back to her realm in order to lead her people.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Truthfully, she claimed you would
have seen to it that Varlan would not live. She has some odd belief that you are responsible for the deaths of every king, and even went so far as to accuse you of plotting to kill my father. She spoke of some prophecy, and that you wish to proclaim yourself high queen over all.”

  “Me?” Angeline appropriately widened her eyes. “The girl is deranged. Varlan died from his injury, and I certainly had no part in it. An Orosian blade ended him.” She shook her head. “On the day of that wretched match, I watched in horror as kings died before me. My own brother included. Had I been able, I would have saved every one of them.”

  She had been foolish not to have Carmela and Tesher killed on their journey to Thanwine. They had proven to be stronger than she thought and overestimated the level of their fear in speaking their minds. How Carmela had discovered her ploy troubled her. The girl needed to be dealt with.

  Angeline thrummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. Perhaps she worried for no reason. Her people loved her, and they would never believe the ravings of two immature outcasts.

  “Your Majesty?” Yakar lightly tapped her knee. “Are you unwell?”

  “Forgive me. All this talk has turned my stomach, which is detrimental for my baby. We have strayed from the issue at hand. I told you what is necessary to become high king in accordance with the laws of our realms. Not only must you become King of Issa, you must find a way to show yourself worthy. An Issan prince is unlikely to have the approval of our Godly kingdoms.”

  He leaned forward. “I will do whatever is necessary. Perhaps if I am king of Issa, and pledge myself to you, your people will deem me worthy.”

  “It is a far stretch and unwise to contemplate, when much must be done to attain it. As I said before, come to me as king of Issa, and then we will see what can be done to raise you to the highest of thrones.”

  He bowed his head. “Yes, my queen.” Looking slightly ashen, he rose to his feet. “You will hear from me soon.”

  “Soon?” She tipped her head and peered up at him, eyes narrowed. “Do you love your father?”