by Elise Marion
Inside the room, a table large enough to seat ten was adorned with a white cloth and yellow lace overlay, which matched the flowing drapes. The windows had been thrown open, filling the room with the fresh scent of the outdoors.
He found lunch being spread out on the sideboard by silent, efficient servants under the watchful eye of Jarvis the butler. The room had only one occupant other than him.
In one of the middle chairs sat his sister-in-law, Esmeralda, who glanced up as he approached.
“Good afternoon,” he said, lowering himself into a chair across from her.
“Hello,” she answered with a striking smile.
He could not help but smile back. Esmeralda’s spirit rivaled her outer beauty, and always seemed to show through her smile. She was queen now, something else which would take some getting used to. When he’d first laid eyes on her, she had been dressed in Gypsy garb and performing for the members of the court. Damien had fallen head over heels in love with her, seemingly at first sight, sparking a bit of discord between himself and other members of the family. Serge, however, had approved from the start and found Esmeralda sweet and charming, a perfect match for his brother.
They were married now and had a young daughter, whom he’d been stunned to meet shortly after awakening. Leila was a beautiful baby, and one of the only people in the palace who did not know how much he’d changed. Because of this, he’d bonded with her fairly quickly.
A plate landed in front of him, and he looked up to find the butler standing at his side. Jarvis’s dark hair held far more silver than Serge remembered, but aside from a few additional wrinkles he was just as he had been a year ago. Stalwart and loyal, a longstanding member of the household.
“Jarvis, you didn’t have to do that.”
The old butler smiled, bracing a hand on Serge’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to serve Your Grace for such a long time. Please, indulge an old man.”
He smiled, accepting the full plate without protest. Jarvis remembered what foods he preferred and had filled it to near overflowing, knowing he was on a mission to regain his figure and his strength. His own clothes hung from an emaciated frame that had once been broad and powerful, so he had taken to wearing Lionus’ garments, as his brother had been much thinner than him. Even still, they did not fit. His road to full recovery stretched long before him.
“Damien has been looking for you,” sad Esmeralda once Jarvis had retreated to stand in his place in the corner of the room.
“I went for a walk,” he replied, keeping his head lowered over his plate as he attacked the offerings with gusto.
“Yes, I’m sure you needed to get away from all the whispering and staring.”
“They act as if I’ve risen from the dead,” he muttered between bites.
“It is as if you’ve risen from the dead, Serge. No one expected you to live. You sure showed them.”
He glanced up to find her giving him a smug smirk, which he returned in kind.
“You know, I suppose you are right. Where is Damien, by the way? I hadn’t intended to avoid him.”
She stared into the murky depths of her teacup and sighed. “In his study. He thinks you are angry, and fears you resent him for taking the throne. He has even petitioned the High Council, hoping to right the wrong he feels he has done.”
“I am not angry. I know Damien did what he had to, and there was nothing duplicitous about it. Hell, he is the last person who would ever have had aspirations toward the throne.”
Serge meant every word he said, even if he mostly said them to make her feel better. The truth was, Damien had been left in an impossible situation, and had done the right thing. Cardenas was better for it, and that was what mattered in the grand scheme of things.
“You know him well,” she replied. “It has been quite an adjustment for him—for both of us—but he has adapted well. He has become a great king.”
Serge finished his first plate, and found Jarvis ready with a second. He nodded his gratitude to the butler and went on shoveling food into his mouth.
“From what I have seen and heard, you are a great queen,” he remarked around a mouthful of ham, following it with a bit of buttered bread.
Damn it all, he had missed the taste of food. One of his few memories of his time asleep consisted of the taste of broth—which he hoped to never have to endure again. Even the taste of soups and stews turned his stomach, its liquid too close in consistency to what he’d consumed day after day.
Esmeralda shrugged. “I have done my best. Damien and Isabelle have been very helpful in guiding me.”
“It is good to see that becoming a queen has not changed you,” he remarked. “You are the same woman you were a year ago despite being elevated to royal status through your marriage to Damien.”
“Having my family live here has helped keep me aware of who I am and where I come from,” she said, allowing Jarvis to take her empty plate. She accepted a second cup of tea and relaxed in her cushioned chair. “I daresay it has been an adjustment for us all. We are used to working for a living.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence as Serge wolfed down the rest of his lunch, then drained his cup with relish. Dabbing his mouth with a linen napkin and stood.
“I’ll go find Damien now. I suppose this conversation must be had, and the sooner the better for his sake.”
Esmeralda waved goodbye, and he left the dining room in search of his brother. He located Damien’s wing of the house and walked a little more than halfway there before remembering his brother had moved into the king’s chambers … which lay clear on the other side of the house.
Turning on his heel, he set off in the right direction. It seemed as if the corridors of Rothchester Hall stretched on forever. Really, a person could get lost here, never to be seen again if they truly wished it.
Just now it did not seem such a daunting prospect. He could escape everyone’s pity and scrutiny, avoiding questions about his plans for the future. A future that was now uncertain in a way it had never been.
He found Damien in his study, talking with the newly appointed general of Cardenas’ army. His brother still wore formal court dress in the blue and gray colors of the royal family, having just come from meeting with the High Council.
General Adams stood as he entered, and bowed. The man eyed him with anxiety in his gaze, and Serge forced a smile to put him at ease. The man had been appointed to take his place as leader of Cardenas’ armed forces, and was undoubtedly nervous about his feelings on the matter.
As the secondborn prince, Serge should have become general when Lionus was crowned king. He had studied and prepared for the position his entire life … but that had been before.
Before, he had been a whole man and not only a ghost of his former self.
“Good to see you again, General,” he said, shaking Adams’ hand and taking the seat beside him.
Adams visibly relaxed and Serge was relieved. It was hardly the other man’s fault things turned out the way they had.
“I was just on my way out,” the general said with another bow. “I’m glad to see that you are well, Your Grace.”
Serge inclined his head in thanks, and Adams took his leave.
“I searched for you this morning,” Damien said, shuffling a stack of documents around on his desk. “You were nowhere to be found.”
“I wanted some fresh air. After being cooped up in my chambers for the past year, I have discovered a new love of the outdoors.”
Damien smiled. “I’m glad to see you up and about. You look as if you are feeling stronger.”
“I am. Every day I feel just a bit better. I hope to be my old self again soon.”
“I hope for the same.”
“Have you just come from the council?” he asked, indicating Damien’s state of dress.
“Yes.”
“And?”
Damien heaved a sigh, running his fingers though his blond curls. He had always been the handsomest of the three
Rothchester brothers, and everyone knew it. As his fraternal twin, Serge was even more aware of it than anyone else. Not that he thought himself plain. He knew that he was attractive enough in his own way, just not so delusional as to think that his looks could rival his brother’s.
Damien’s features were chiseled and refined, his physique long and lean with muscle. He had often heard women say his was the sort of face that could make angels weep.
Looking at him now, Serge could see what time and responsibility had done for his brother. The eyes, which had once held a limpid, heavy-lidded air of boredom, had become sharp and shrewd. He had chosen to grow a beard, which he kept neatly trimmed. The whiskers, a rich golden hue, only served to enhance his formidable stature and noble features. Aside from looking the part, Damien had taken to his new role as a fish to water—beginning construction on a new university, devising on a plan for ousting the rebels in the neighboring kingdom, and working with the High Council to pass several important pieces of legislation.
It would seem that becoming king was the best thing that had ever happened to Damien. What it meant for himself, Serge was not sure. However, he did know he could not take the crown, even if it was his right as the secondborn son. Destiny would have to provide him with a different path. It had made him a different man, after all.
Damien remained silent for a few more seconds, drumming his fingers against the desk.
“The council was at a loss as to how to handle such a situation,” he began. “Never in the history of Cardenas has anything like this occurred. I allowed them to argue amongst themselves for some time before I stepped in. I told them exactly what I thought they should do.”
Serge’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wondered how long it would be before he grew accustomed to this new facet of his brother’s personality. A Damien who drank, gambled, and whored was a man he was most intimately acquainted with. A Damien who commanded and led with passion and strength was an entirely new person altogether.
“What did you suggest?”
“I told them I would abdicate the throne.”
Serge had expected this, but in that moment something within him rebelled. By the dictates of the law it was the right thing to do, yet a part of him—some innate thing—knew his feet had been placed on a different path.
He shook his head. “No.”
Damien scowled. “No?”
“You will not abdicate the throne, Damien. I won’t allow it.”
His brother smiled. Then he laughed. He slumped forward onto his desk, his chuckles ringing out through the library, shoulders shaking.
Once Damien had calmed, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “In case you have forgotten, for the time being I am still king. You have no power until I give it over to you.”
“Of that I am well aware,” Serge replied. “But, I think you are being hasty. You have been king for a year, and from what I can see things could not be better if I were in your place. You would have made both Father and Lionus proud.”
“Yes, except for the obvious fact that if Father and Lionus still lived, I would not be in this position at all. It isn’t reasonable for me to remain king when you are alive and well. It is your right as the second son to sit upon the throne. I should never have allowed Mother to coerce me into going to the council in the first place. I became so discouraged by the prospect of you dying in that bed that I acted against my better judgment and went to the council. They declared you unfit to rule and named me king in your stead.”
Damien buried his face in his hands, seeming unable to look him in the eye. Serge rose from his seat and went around the desk to place a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“You did what was necessary,” he insisted. “Cardenas needed a king, and you stepped in to fill the role. I could not be prouder to call you my brother.”
Damien shook his head, still staring down at his desk. “It wasn’t right. I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Things are the way they should be. You are king. You got to marry the woman you love, make her your queen, and start a family. I will not take that away from you.”
Damien seemed to digest this for a moment, then he nodded decisively and stood. He paced in front of the fireplace for a moment before back turning to Serge.
“There’s more. I had a feeling you would react this way, and took the time to devise another way to make things right. The council has already approved my proposal, and will await word from me. If you accept this offer, it will give me an opportunity to fix everything.”
“I am listening.”
“As you know, the situation in Barony has become volatile. The people are terrified and angry, and the rebel army has multiplied in the years since Isabelle has been in hiding.”
Serge nodded in understanding. The state of the neighboring kingdom had been of concern to them all for years now. The King of Barony had negotiated a betrothal between Lionus, and Princess Isabelle Guthrie, his only child. Upon their marriage, Lionus and Isabelle were meant to rule both Cardenas and Barony, thereby preserving the Guthrie royal line through them. With the two families and realms united, the rebel force would be easily vanquished and Barony would be at peace once again.
Unfortunately, Lionus’ death had complicated everything. Damien and Esmeralda were technically still king and queen of both realms, but Serge knew the people of Barony could not be happy about it. They had expected their long lost princess returned to her rightful place on the throne.
“I would have thought the rebel army leader dead by now,” Serge said, joining his brother before the fireplace. “It has been over a decade since Isabelle was sent here.”
“We are not sure if he still lives or not. In either case, his son has played a major role in the rebellion. I fear he is a greater foe than we could have imagined.”
“So, where do I come in?”
“As you know, Isabelle has remained here since Lionus’ death. I have tried to allow her as much time and space to mourn him as I could. But, I believe the time has come for her to take her rightful place as Queen of Barony.”
Serge frowned at that, something deep within him rebelling at the thought. Isabelle had lived at Rothchester Hall with them for years, and had become a part of their family well before her marriage to Lionus. To simply let her leave them and return to Barony felt wrong to him somehow.
He did not want to explore the other reason this upset him. The reason that kept him awake many a night, tossing and turning as he reminded himself she could never be his.
“You would send her back to Barony alone?”
“No,” said Damien with a shake of his head. “I hope to send her back with you as her husband.”
Damien paused to allow this to sink in, and Serge was grateful for it. Time seemed to have stopped, and he felt as if he would faint, or at least become violently ill.
Him, marry Isabelle? The princess had been engaged to his elder brother since birth, only to have him tragically snatched away from her after a few short weeks of marriage. Why on earth would she want to marry him? She had loved Lionus, despite the union being arranged. To try to claim her for his own after all that had happened felt sordid and wrong.
“You want me to marry our brother’s widow,” Serge said, searching Damien’s gaze carefully lest he discover a twinkle of amusement there. At least then, he would know his brother was merely joking. But, he remained sober, and Serge’s heart plummeted into his stomach. It seemed his brother was quite serious.
“Have you spoken to her about this?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you about it first. It is the only way, Serge. This way, you will be king as you should be, only of Barony. I would remain King of Cardenas and together we will join our forces to set out against our mutual enemy.”
“Isabelle loved Lionus,” Serge murmured, his gaze turning toward the flickering flames of the fire.
His heart ached when he said the wor
ds, for he could no longer deny the state of his heart where she was concerned. He’d done his best not to think of it before all this, and now it seemed he had no choice but to confront it. He adored Isabelle, but she’d loved his brother … and now he was supposed to marry her?
“How can I ask her to allow me to take his place?”
“If Isabelle reclaims the throne in Barony, she will eventually have to marry for the continuation of her royal line. I would still offer her my allegiance and my army, of course. I would owe her that much as her brother-in-law. But, the way I see it, she could benefit from marrying someone she already knows. The two of you are friends, and she has known us most of her life. If she has to marry someone, I would like to think she’d be happy to have you.”
Serge begged to differ, but he remained silent on the matter. He’d seen the way Isabelle had looked at his brother. All his life he had watched her as she watched Lionus with the light of young love sparkling in her eyes.
He vividly recalled the pain he’d always felt when he looked at her. It was worse than any agony he’d ever experienced—even worse than being dragged behind a carriage pulled by thundering horses. It was the misery of knowing Isabelle could never be his, no matter how much he wished it.
Now, it seemed she was within his reach. A part of him rejoiced, urging him to reach out and take the opportunity. Time could heal her heart and she could be his in truth.
Another part of him feared life with a woman who still mourned another man. Would she ever be able to love him the way she had loved Lionus? The way he loved her?
“I need time,” he declared. “Don’t say anything to her about this yet.”
It horrified him to think this proposal had already been made to Isabelle, who’d only just passed her first year of deep mourning for her husband. If she were to be told, Serge wanted to be there so they could puzzle it all out together.
“Take all the time you need.”
Chapter 2
For most of her life, Princess Isabelle Rothchester’s future had been well planned, mapped out before she’d grown old enough to have any say. She’d been informed as a little girl that she would someday wed Prince Lionus Rothchester of Cardenas and become queen of both his kingdom as well as her own realm of Barony. By the time she had grown old enough to comprehend what it all meant, she’d already become accustomed to the idea.