The Awakened Prince

by Elise Marion

  “My lords and ladies,” he began once they’d finally fallen silent. “Welcome to this most blessed of occasions. I stand before you humbled and honored by your acceptance of me as your king. I know that times have been hard. The rebels have ravaged your beautiful land, and terrorized its people. You have fought and you have been steadfast, and I want you to know it has not been in vain. Today, I make this declaration in good faith and as my promise to you … the fight is not over yet, but it will be. And in the end, we will stand victorious, a realm reborn!”

  He paused and allowed the raucous cheers and hand claps to wash over him before he continued.

  “Before we are dismissed for the celebratory ball, I would like to allow your queen to address you. She has been away from her people a long time, and it gives me great pleasure to return her to you now.”

  He motioned for Isabelle to step forward. Shock flickered across her face for a brief moment, but she recovered and stepped forward. It was not customary for the queen to make any sort of speech at a coronation, but Serge felt she had more than earned the right. Besides, the Baronians were her people by right of birth.

  “Ladies and gentleman of the court,” she said, hands folded before her. “Words cannot express how full my heart is on this day. I have spent my entire life hearing stories of Barony and its people, waiting for the day I would return. I am proud to call this land my home, proud to call you my people. I want to thank you for welcoming my husband and I as your king and queen. Thank you for trusting and accepting us. I can assure you that we will do everything in our power to bring peace to Barony once again.”

  When she had finished, the court erupted into applause once again. Whistles and cheers rose up to mingle with the clapping and Isabelle wore a genuine smile for the first time that day.

  “Well done,” he murmured, turning to give her the swiftest of glances.

  It was the first time he’d spoken to her all day. She inclined her head in acknowledgment of his praise, but said nothing.

  He offered her his arm, and they walked down the aisle together, waving to the people as they went. The armed guards ahead of them flung open the chapel doors to reveal those who had gathered in the castle’s courtyard for a glimpse of their new monarchs. A hush fell over the crowd when they appeared, and Serge and Isabelle paused at the top of the steps and gazed over those assembled. Then, one by one they fell on bended knee, bowing their heads, every man removing his hat.

  The sting of tears prickled his eyes, his chest swelling with pride as he stood to accept their silent tribute. He had never anticipated that being crowned King of Barony would feel so much like coming home.

  * * *

  Isabelle couldn’t wait until the coronation ball had ended, so she could run to her bedchamber and remove her heavy, gaudy court dress. She felt as if she weighed an additional fifty pounds, and her head hurt from the number of pins keeping her hair in place as well as the weight of her new crown.

  She spotted Barony’s female soldier’s regiment amongst their guests. Serge had agreed they ought to be invited after their heroic efforts upon their arrival in Barony. It did not escape her notice that many of them sported shorter hairstyles than the women of the court. She was nearly green with envy knowing none of them suffered headaches from tightly-wound hairstyles.

  As if her discomfort weren’t enough, it seemed every lord of the court wanted to claim a dance with the new queen. Once Serge had taken her through the obligatory first waltz, he had left her at their mercy. One after the other, they partnered her on the dance floor until Isabelle thought she would collapse.

  After refusing the next dance, she found her seat at the head table and contented herself with watching the celebration and resting her sore feet. Wine flowed freely and everyone seemed to be having a grand time, proving that her efforts in planning the event had not been in vain.

  She noticed that Esmeralda’s young cousin, Tatiana, had caught the eye of several men—just as she had while attending such events in Cardenas. The young woman was a beauty, so this came as no surprise to Isabelle. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement as she talked and flirted with every man who crossed her path. She almost envied Tatiana who, unlike Isabelle, did not have her entire existence already planned out for her. She would be allowed to fall in love on her own terms and choose the husband she desired, as Damien and Esmeralda had no intention of arranging a marriage for her.

  Thinking of her life and the plans that had been made caused her gaze to settle on Serge, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. He stood with his back to her, talking with General Adams, his broad shoulders flaunting the cut of his military-style coat. He had barely even looked at her since the morning before, and Isabelle had been too anxious to attempt conversation with him again. She had no way of knowing what he might be thinking, but the fact that he had not come to her chamber for bed told her everything she needed to know.

  He was still angry with her, and probably would be for a while. The things she’d said had hurt him, and he couldn’t be blamed for needing the time and space to lick his wounds. But, Isabelle wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they had been, when they’d had an easy, companionable relationship. However, she had no notion of how to make that happen.

  “You’re angry with me.”

  The voice that interrupted her turbulent thoughts startled Isabelle out of her reverie. She glanced up to find that Akira had taken the empty chair beside her, and was propping her cane up against the table.

  Isabelle took a deep breath and concentrated on slowing her racing heart before she replied. “What would make you think I am angry with you?”

  Akira gave her a knowing smile. “You do not have to play coy with me, Your Highness. You blame me for what has happened between you and King Serge. I don’t have to use my ability to see the distance that has come between you. You may not want to admit it, but I know you wonder why I pressed you into marrying him. You must think I knew that this was coming.”

  “Well, didn’t you?” she snapped. It annoyed her that this woman knew things no one outside her marriage ought to. But more than that, she had been wondering if she should ever have taken the old woman’s advice.

  “You must also think I knew your beloved Lionus was going to die.”

  “What good are your so-called powers if you cannot stop these kinds of things from happening?”

  Akira leaned forward, her gaze locked with Isabelle’s. As always, she felt her soul had been exposed to this woman, and she became transfixed by the amber eyes staring at her from beneath wrinkled eyelids.

  “I am only able to see what will happen based on choices that have already been made, Your Highness. Your actions and the actions of others are what determine the outcome. I can only tell you what I see and advise accordingly. I saw that Barony would be saved as a result of your union with him, and so it will be.”

  “And what of Lionus?” she whispered, choking back the tears that always accompanied her thoughts of him. “Did you see his death?”

  “It was one of many possible outcomes. There was no way I could anticipate which turn Fate would take. In a way, Lionus had a hand in sealing his own destiny with some of the decisions he made.”

  Those words proved hardest of all to accept with Lionus so fresh in her mind. Knowing his death might have been avoided, but understanding that there was nothing to be done now made this all the harder to bear.

  “So, what now?” she asked, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing footman. “Barony is now safe, but my marriage is in shambles.”

  Akira raised one eyebrow. “That does not depend on me, but then I think you already know that. The warrior king and queen in my vision were happy enough. Of course, this vision is of the future, and I saw nothing indicating the path taken toward that happiness. Long is the road, My Queen. You just have to walk upon the one you have chosen, and trust that you will arrive where you intended. Where Fate is concerned, that is really all yo
u can do.”

  * * *

  Tatiana Amador turned about the ballroom in the arms of the handsome lord who had asked her to dance. As the rich colors of ball gowns and the bright lights of the candles whirled past her, she marveled at the new turn her life had taken. She’d never have guessed that her cousin’s marriage to a king would change things so drastically for her.

  Where once her life had been dull and predictable, it was now full of excitement and intrigue. Her clothing and undergarments were the finest money could buy; she had a personal maid at her disposal to dress her hair in elegant styles. Twinkling jewels loaned to her by Esmeralda complimented her yellow satin court ensemble to perfection.

  Where she had once shunned marriage to the men her father wished her to consider for marriage, she now had noblemen practically falling at her feet. She had flirted shamelessly with them all, enjoying the attention and flatteries. But when Lord Andrew Forsyth had approached her, the rest faded into obscurity for her.

  He was the very epitome of everything Tatiana had secretly dreamed of. A real gentleman; the kind of man who did not exist in the world she came from. The cut of his scarlet coat complimented a long and lean frame, and snug black breeches left little to the imagination. Deep brown eyes flashed as he gazed down at her, and his wavy sable hair gleamed in the candlelight.

  His hand at her waist tightened, and she blushed as his stare lowered to the neckline of her gown and the soft flesh it revealed.

  “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” he murmured as he led her into a graceful turn.

  Tatiana’s heart fluttered and her spine tingled. She shook her head dumbly, unable to speak when he was gazing at her with such intent.

  He smiled, the motion of his lips making her belly flutter and her mouth go dry. “Well, you are. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

  Men had been telling her she was beautiful her entire life, but not one had ever said it or with such passion. None had ever said it in a way that left no doubt as to his sincerity. As she gazed up into his eyes once more, she felt deep in her heart that she loved him already.

  * * *

  Serge leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. It had been a long day, and he was glad to have a moment of peace now that the ball had ended and their guests had retired for the evening. The courtiers would return to their homes soon, and he would have to get down to the business of rebuilding Barony.

  He shuffled the papers on his desk into one neat stack, and placed them to one side before taking up a fresh sheet and his quill.

  He’d just begun making a list of people he wanted to offer High Council positions to, when the door to his study opened. Damien entered and closed the door behind him. He took the seat across from Serge’s desk and folded his arms across his chest, staring at him in silence.

  Serge dropped his pen and returned his brother’s gaze. He knew why Damien had come, but he’d be damned if he was going to start the conversation. After a while, the tension seemed to be too much for Damien and he broke the silence.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you and Isabelle?”

  Even the mere mention of her name threw him into a pit of darkness and despair. It made him want to leap from his chair and begin smashing things, throwing his study into chaos as he razed it to ashes.

  I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, folding his arms over his chest.

  “When Esmeralda and I arrived a few days ago, you two seemed happy. Today, you wouldn’t even look at her. Something has changed.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, leveling a glare at his brother. “Do you remember me trying to convince you that my marrying her was a bad idea?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Well, I hate to say I told you so, but … I did.”

  Damien wrinkled his brow. “What happened?”

  “Suffice it to say, I cannot compete with a dead man. Not that I ever intended to.”

  “Serge, I...”

  He held up one hand to silence his brother, and shook his head. “Don’t, Damien. Do not apologize to me. It is too late for that. All I can do now is move forward with my mission here. I am Barony’s king now, as you and everyone else wanted. I have too many concerns on that front to fall to pieces over a woman who cannot see me as anything other than a shadow of my brother.”

  Damien’s frown deepened, shock alighting in his eyes. “She said that?”

  “She didn’t know I could hear her, which tells me it might be the most honest thing she’d ever said about me. She said she was not sure if she married me because she needed some piece of Lionus to hold on to, that when she looks into my eyes, she sees him. I can’t … I do not know that I can overcome that, and quite frankly don’t wish to. She loved him … loves him, and that would not hurt so badly if not for the fact that she all but told me it meant there was no room for me in her heart.”

  Damien winced, as if hearing the words hurt him, as well. “Blast it, Serge, I’m sorry. I thought the marriage would be good for you both, and not just for the sake of Barony or the succession of the crown.”

  “There is nothing for you to apologize for. This mess is of our making, and in time I am certain we will find some way to live with each other. But, enough about that … I want to talk about this.”

  Serge handed him the list.

  Damien perused it with a slow nod. “You wish to replace the standing council?”

  “No,” he replied. “I simply mean to strengthen it, fill it with new blood—younger lords whose families will be the future of our realm. I do not fault Primus for keeping the council of Isabelle’s father in place, but we need radical change and men who are not afraid to make it happen if we are going to take this realm back from the enemy.”

  “The list looks good, but … Primus?” he chuckled as he came to the grand vizier’s name on the list. “I thought you two hated each other.”

  Serge rolled his eyes and snorted. “He’s a bastard, but I need him. The role of grand vizier is an antiquated one, and I prefer a group of advisers over a single one … and because he’s ruled the realm and knows it in a way that I don’t, I’d be a fool not to invite him to sit on my council.”

  Damien laughed. “I find myself strangely proud of you for being so mature.”

  “Wearing a crown will do that for a man, as you well know. I am arranging the first meeting tomorrow. I want to lay out my plans for Barony and reach some sort of decision concerning how to handle the rebels. I haven’t yet decided if I want to go on the offensive or wait for them to come to us.”

  “I’ve already promised Esmeralda that I will spend the afternoon with her. I’m sure you will not have need of me. Have you questioned the men you captured upon your arrival?”

  “Several times. They refuse to give up their leader’s location. That was to be expected, though, so I am hardly surprised. They remain in the dungeons until we can decide what is to be done with them.”

  Damien stood and stretched with a yawn. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to find my bed and my wife.” He lifted one eyebrow and glanced pointedly at Serge. “I suggest you do the same.”

  Serge shook his head at his brother’s retreating back. Isabelle was sure to have fallen asleep by now, and even if she hadn’t, he had already braced himself for another lonely night. He may as well spend it being productive as opposed to tossing and turning in his cold bed. Taking up his quill again, he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

  * * *

  The messenger ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The soles of his shoes rang out against the cobblestones as he flew through the courtyard. He slowed down just long enough to fling open the doors to the main hall. His lungs burned, and his breath was shallow, but he did not slow down as he neared the guarded door at the end of the hall.

  Inside, King Serge conducted the very first meeting of the new High Council, yet he felt no gu
ilt for interrupting. The king would want to be aware of what was happening just outside the castle gates. The two palace guards outside the meeting room came forward to block his entrance.

  “You have to let me pass,” he wheezed, clutching his burning chest. “I must speak with the king at once!”

  “His Majesty has insisted that this meeting not to be disturbed,” said one of the guards. “Whatever your message is, it will have to wait.”

  “No!” he cried, trying to push past them. “It’s urgent. The king will understand.”

  Seeing the concern in the messenger’s eyes, the guards seemed to decide they would rather not suffer the wrath of their king for failing to allow a messenger entrance when the dispatch was so dire.

  “This had better be important,” said the other guard as they both stepped aside.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, the messenger pressed on, flinging the door open and stumbling into the room. The king looked up from where he sat at a long, heavy wooden table and frowned. The other members of the council turned toward him as well, outrage apparent on their faces.

  Lord Burnham stood and came toward him. “What is the meaning of this? His Majesty gave specific orders that this meeting was not to be interrupted.”

  King Serge appeared between them, his brow knit in concern. “Surely, it must be important if the guard allowed him entrance. We will dismiss for a well-deserved break. I have ordered a light meal prepared in the dining room for you all. Eat well, and rest for a while. You will need your wits about you when we meet back in this room in two hours.”

  Every council member rose to leave, bowing to the king as they filed out.

  Lord Burnham remained, his gaze still locked on the messenger. “What has happened?”

  The messenger plowed onward. “Kingsford has been attacked.”

  The king stiffened, a hand curling into a fist at his side. “When?”

  “A group of villagers arrived less than an hour ago with the news. They say the rebels appeared out of nowhere, setting fire to buildings, stealing livestock and stored food, and herding the residents together ... to what end, they could not determine.”