by M. Lynn
He smiled at the memory, lost in his own mind until the clop of a horse’s hooves entered the courtyard. Tyson jumped up from his spot near the steps as soon as he recognized the man sliding down from the beast.
If his mother had sent Simon, it must mean Amalie would be okay.
Tyson ran forward, stopping himself from throwing his arms around the other man in relief.
“My prince.” Simon dipped his head. He’d always insisted on formality between him and the royal family.
“Si, they’re keeping Amalie in a cell.”
“I know.” He handed his horse’s reins to a stable lad and marched toward the line of guards near the front entryway. “We will fix this, your Highness. Show me to the captain.”
Tyson led Simon inside and to the room he’d spend most of his time in recently. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d pleaded for her release. Treason tarnished the names of entire families in Gaule. Amalie would never be free of it. There would always be suspicion.
The captain looked up from his desk as they barged through the door. He straightened immediately upon seeing Simon. “Sir, what brings you so far from the palace?”
Simon let the charged air linger in silence for a moment before answering. “You’re imprisoning a young woman who has done no wrong.”
The captain’s jaw tensed and he narrowed his eyes. “The traitor’s daughter refused to leave the queen’s property.”
Anger burned in Tyson. “You arrested her before she even had a chance to refuse.”
He wanted to unleash his magic, showering the captain in a torrent of water, but the power stopped at his fingertips, fighting the urge to break free as it had every day since the battle.
And Tyson hated himself for it. He hated that he couldn’t bring himself to do what was necessary to protect the woman he loved. He despised himself for being weak, for letting the battle steal the fight from his soul.
Simon remained calm as ever. “Amalie Leroy is not her father. The queen regards her highly.”
Tyson averted his eyes, not wanting to dwell on the thoughts rising to the surface. If his mother loved Amalie so much, why did she seize the Leroy estate?
The captain scoffed. “That girl and her family no longer deserve to hold a title in Gaule.”
Simon crossed his arms. “By order of the queen, I demand you release her.” He jerked his head to the door. “Go. I’ll wait here.”
For a minute, Tyson thought the guard would refuse, but he only shook his head and left them.
Tyson collapsed into a chair in front of the desk.
Simon put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s good you sent for me.”
Tyson leaned forward to put his head in his hands. What was wrong with him? All he could do for Amalie was send for help.
“I’m the prince, Si. I should have been able to get her released.” But he knew the truth. The captain may not have arrested him because he was the queen’s son, but he was also a magic man, not trusted or obeyed. The last few days had been full of suspicious looks and lack of conversation. They didn’t want him there.
Maybe Gaule was no longer his home. He shook his head. Amalie was in Gaule and he’d go wherever she was.
“I tried to get her to come with me to Bela,” Tyson admitted. “But she said it was time to right her father’s wrongs and take care of the people living on Leroy lands.”
Simon studied him for a long moment. “You care for her a great deal.”
A laugh bubbled up from his chest. “Yes, I care for her.” He lifted his face, meeting Simon’s gaze. “She’s my wife.”
Present
Wife. It used to seem like such a big word to Tyson until the day he married Amalie in a small village near the Caron estate with only strangers as witnesses. A friar performed the ceremony, a young man named Tuck who’d befriended them both.
They’d thought the future lay open before them, theirs for the taking.
Within a year, everything fell apart. Tyson still didn’t know why they hadn’t told his family of their happiness. Maybe they’d thought it wouldn’t last once they shared their secret with the world.
Well, they’d only ever told one man, and it still faded like the autumn sun, bright one day and cloudy the next.
He didn’t know why Simon hadn’t told his mother, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He only knew he was grateful and that he now had to be there for the guard who’d always been there for him. He had to fight for him.
For the past two years, he’d heard the comments from those he lived with in Bela, never recovering the man he once was. Etta and Alex’s constant worry exhausted him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take joy in the life around him.
Not when he was so broken. Not when something vital was missing inside him.
Edmund stood beside him, staring at the walls of the Leroy estate. If there was anyone who understood how he felt, it was the blonde warrior. He’d spent months thinking Estevan was dead.
“Are you sure we have to do this?” Edmund asked, glancing sideways.
No, Tyson wanted to say. They could stay at an inn in the village as they searched for any information on the Hood. But he’d never been able to help himself when he had the opportunity to see Amalie, no matter how cold her welcome was.
“I…” He blew out a breath. This was Edmund, a man as close to Tyson as his own brother. They’d been through a lot together and he trusted him with his life. The secrets he carried in his heart threatened to blow it to pieces one final time.
He closed his eyes. “There’s something I never told you, Edmund.” His eyes slid open to view the structure that had always had an ominous air around it. “Amalie and I… we got married.”
Edmund’s eyes widened in shock, but his lips tilted into a smile. “Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
His grin widened. “I’m not sure why you never told us… but it’s kind of funny, you have to admit.”
“Why is it funny?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Edmund chuckled. “Amalie Leroy, the lady who has gained a reputation for despising her fellow nobles and forsaking the queen is a princess of both Gaule and Bela.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Tyson, but he didn’t get a chance to respond as a guard approached them.
“Back away from the wall,” he commanded.
Tyson sighed. “Tell Lady Amalie that Tyson has arrived.” Amalie had to have known they were coming and knowing her she was prepared.
The guard disappeared through a door in the wall, appearing a few moments later. “Come with me.”
He led them into the courtyard and gestured for a stable boy to take their horses. “Lady Amalie has retired for the night. I will show you to the guest wing and she’ll see you after first light.”
Something in Tyson’s chest deflated, and his nerves calmed. He’d both wanted to see her and dreaded it.
Edmund gripped his shoulder and laughed once more before stepping into the first room they were offered.
The guard gestured for Tyson to follow him to another room. Nothing had changed in the Leroy estate. Sparse furnishings sat in barely decorated rooms. No luxuries were afforded the residents of this house. Amalie spent all of her land’s earnings making life better for the people who relied on her.
It was one of the things he loved best about her. She cared in a way few people did. In a different life, a different world, they could have been happy together.
He jumped when the door slammed behind him, shutting him in the silence of his mind. He’d experienced many stages of loneliness over the last two years, trying to forget the emptiness inside him with missions into foreign kingdoms and duties for his mother and sister. When one belonged to two kingdoms, it was almost like they belonged to neither.
He wasn’t truly Gaulean or wholly Belaen. For a while, Amalie understood what it felt like to be a stranger in one’s own home. But she’d found her place. He never had.
&nb
sp; He toed off his boots and loosened his sword belt to let it drop to the floor. Stripping off his travel clothes as he walked, he made it to the edge of the bed before collapsing into it and letting himself dream of a time when life had seemed so darned easy.
A throat clearing woke Tyson as the sun streamed through the window, casting shadows on the floor.
The throat cleared again, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. He could feel her presence before setting eyes on her delicate face.
“You shouldn’t be here, Tyson.” Amalie’s voice cracked on his name.
He groaned as he rolled onto his side to face her. She sat in a chair across the room, one leg crossed over the other. Her hard eyes betrayed her calm countenance.
The fabric of her pale blue dress bunched at her waist, and she smoothed it out. Her silken hair billowed as a breeze filtered in through the window, chilling the air.
She stood and crossed the room to shut the thin pane of glass, her movements stiff.
Shaking himself out of his momentary stupor, Tyson spoke. “You knew I was coming, Ames.”
She closed her eyes. “Don’t call me that. Please.”
He sighed. “Amalie, I have orders to seek the Hood and find the queen’s guard he’s taken prisoner.”
A flicker of emotion he couldn’t decipher crossed her face. “You are a guest in my house, and I won’t turn you away, but the information you seek will not be here. Just ask Captain Anders. He’s already interrogated my people when I wasn’t here. You’d do better seeking a bed in the village.”
“Ames,” he breathed. “Can we be civil for one moment?”
“I was being civil.” She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him.
Tyson wanted one look, one moment when he could try to read her like he’d done so well in the past, but she gave him nothing. He nodded, realizing he wouldn’t get anywhere with her. He’d never understood her vitriol toward him when she’d been the one to break them. “Okay then. You’ve come this morning to let me know I am unwelcome here. Message received. I see no need for us to suffer one another’s presence any longer. I will risk staying in the village.” He pushed the blanket off him, not caring about his state of undress.
Amalie looked away.
Tyson stood and pulled his pants on. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He paused, turning to her as she refused to meet his eyes. He’d known how she’d treat him when he arrived, yet he came anyway.
Where was the girl he’d once known?
He walked past her, still shirtless. “This was a mistake. I’ll inform Edmund to seek us accommodation elsewhere.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before the words were out, the door opened, revealing a smiling Edmund.
“Morning prince.” Edmund glanced from Tyson to Amalie. “And princess.”
Tyson froze. He should have known Edmund would make a big deal of his revelation.
Amalie turned on him. “You told him?” The accusation in her voice stung.
Tyson only shrugged.
She huffed out a breath, looking as if she had more to say until she met Edmund’s gaze. Something passed between them, unspoken words, and Amalie stepped back.
Tyson didn’t understand what was going on.
Amalie gritted her teeth. “I am not a princess.”
Edmund hadn’t stopped grinning. “On the contrary, my dear, the law says you are. And you’re like a double princess since your husband here has two kingdoms to call his own.”
Tyson winced at the term husband. “Edmund, let it go. We’re leaving. There should be a few open rooms in one of the inns.”
He picked up his discarded shirt and sword before stepping in to the hall. Footsteps followed him and he assumed it was Edmund until Amalie’s voice called him back.
“Tyson, wait.” She ran to catch up with him, her cheeks flushed as he’d seen so many times before.
He slung his shirt over one shoulder and turned. “What is it, Amalie? Do you have to get one final word in before I leave? I didn’t come here for you, but I won’t lie and say you hadn’t crossed my mind. It was a mistake and one I won’t make again. This is the last time I will bother you. You have my word.”
Insecurity crossed her face, revealing some of the girl he’d once loved. “You can stay.”
“But you said—”
“I know very well what I said. And my mind has altered. Edmund is always welcome in my home.”
“And me?”
“You?” She ran a hand through her long chestnut curls.
“Last time I was here with Helena and Dell there was ice between us. I don’t want my presence to cause us both pain.”
“You don’t cause me pain, Tyson.” Her voice softened, but her next words were the worst of all. “Everything between us is in the past. The world continues to turn, and we must move on with our lives.”
He looked into the eyes of the woman he’d once pledged his life to and saw nothing but cold acceptance in their depths. She truly had moved beyond the love that continued to consume him. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been that.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. We’ll stay.” It was all he could do to not leave the estate behind and never return.
But the only thing worse than seeing Amalie and not being able to hold her would have been never seeing her at all.
Chapter Eleven
Tyson’s mother had sent him to hunt down criminals in Gaule before. He’d spent the years since the war with Dracon doing his mother’s bidding as well as his sister’s. It was never easy serving two queens, but he loved them both.
Edmund remained suspiciously quiet as they left the home of another person who refused to give them the information they wanted, stating they’d told everything they knew to the guard who’d come before.
Tyson hated that Anders had been there before him. He tried to imagine the captain gently asking these people the questions he had, but there was nothing gentle about the man. One of the estate guards told him Anders planned to return soon, and Tyson wanted to be long gone before then. He hadn’t yet told Edmund of his father’s involvement, but suspected that wouldn’t go over well. Edmund had no love for the man who’d raised him and now despised him for his magic.
Tyson’s mind ran through the possibilities and scenarios that might lead them closer to their target. Each thought that struck him came out in a jumble of words.
He sidestepped a young boy who was lying against the nearest building, huddled in a threadbare blanket. One naked foot stuck out into the chilly air. He wasn’t the first beggar they’d come across, but he was only a child. The boy stared up at Tyson with wide, all-seeing eyes. There was an innocence in them that would be taken with a few more winters on the streets.
Tyson paused and crouched down to peer into the boy’s dirty face, an idea striking him. The people of the village only watched him with thinly veiled hostility and suspicion. They spoke in short sentences, choosing their words carefully.
All Tyson had learned was the Hood was a revered figure in these parts rather than the villain the guardsmen painted him as, the criminal who abducted Simon. It was time he learned the truth.
“Hello.” He offered the boy a smile. “What’s your name?”
Indecision flashed in the boy’s eyes, but he lifted his chin. “Arthur, your Highness.” Tyson should have been shocked the kid knew who he was, but word traveled fast in the villages.
“Well, Arthur, you look hungry. Would you like to come to the tavern with me and my friend here?”
Arthur’s eyes widened, and he licked his cracked lips before nodding. Tyson helped him to his feet. The blanket fell to the ground, but he didn’t bend to retrieve it. Instead, Tyson unfastened his own cloak and set it around the boy’s shoulders. Arthur tensed for a moment before wrapping the cloak tighter around him.
Tyson wondered for a moment where the kid’s parents were, but some things were better left unasked.
Arthur walke
d in front of them, leading the way to the tavern. Edmund pulled Tyson back. “Where is this going?”
Tyson shrugged off his hand. “The boy needed some kindness.”
Edmund shook his head. “We passed many people in the same condition. Why choose him?”
Tyson couldn’t explain the way he’d felt drawn to Arthur as if he had everything the prince was looking for. He didn’t know how to say he’d seen some of himself, his hopelessness, reflected in the eyes of a beggar. Tyson was a prince. He should have everything. And for years, he’d felt as if he had nothing.
Darkness clouded his life. If he couldn’t help himself, he could help the young boy. He could help Simon.
As the door of the tavern opened, raucous laughter spilled out. They stepped through and all sound died except the scrape of their boots against the stone floor. Suspicion choked the air. Tyson tried to ignore the looks sent his way. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced this in the same village. They had no love for their royal family, and Tyson only represented everything they hated.
Not only was he a known magic man, but he was also a Durand.
Arthur, seeming not to notice, led them to an empty table in the corner. Edmund tensed beside Tyson and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, a clear threat.
Tyson sighed. That was sure to win the villagers trust. He waved a hand to Edmund, telling him to relax, and strode to where Arthur sat with an expectant look on his face. Chatter resumed, the jovial aura from before a distant memory.
Relaxing in the wooden booth, Tyson ran a hand over the top of his head. How had his mother allowed the kingdom to sink into such a state where her son’s presence turned a village into a viper’s nest? Was this only because of Anders’ visit the week before, or did the resentment run deeper than that?
Had she known? Part of him wanted to believe there was nothing she could do to stem the tide of hatred. His father—or at least the man he’d always thought was his father—kept strict control over his guardsmen through fear and brutality. His mother attempted kindness, and they responded by becoming an undisciplined force that terrorized the people they were meant to protect.