Meath stood there for some time before finally returning to his room, but not before he made a few stops along the way to replenish his mead mug. He drained the mug just as swiftly as he filled it, trying hard to drown the confusion, hurt, and sorrow that now consumed his mind and heart. He needed to find rest this night but his thoughts assaulted him, no matter how hard he tried to stop them.
"So this is how it is to end - we should have known better than to rekindle our love," he whispered bitterly, hating himself for not listening to Ursa years before. Finally, he fell into a drunken stupor.
*****
For the next several days, the castle was alive with constant activity, as preparations for the royal wedding were paramount. All attention was focused on the massive event - the King wanted everything to be of the finest quality and of exquisite taste and spared no expense to see it so.
Meath exhausted himself with his studies, trying hard to bury his frustrations.
Ursa was more than eager to spend the additional hours each day with him. He taught him several new potions and even a few new techniques with the elemental aspect of his Gift. Ursa knew the motives behind Meath putting in so much extra time so suddenly. To help keep his thoughts elsewhere, he did his best to teach Meath things he sought to learn. It also gave Ursa a little more time with Draco's other apprentice Wizard, Keithen. It was rare for a Wizard - even one as experienced as Ursa to take on two apprentices. To train one with The Gift, took so much time and focus to learn how to stimulate each individual, for everyone was different in their learning and perception.
Keithen was the scrawny, fair-haired bastard son of one of the servant women. The father was an unknown soldier who had died before Keithen had been born. After Ursa has befriended King Borrack and had offered his services to the good of Draco, the mother had come forward begging the King to allow Ursa to teach her son the arts of The Gift. The King had been reluctant for the deceit the woman had shown in hiding the truth. However, Ursa had educated him on the benefits of having more Wizards in his arsenal, and the King had seen reason and agreed.
Keithen had been raised in the servants' quarters of the castle and had spent his life as a pot scrubber for Maxwell until it was time for his training. Only because Ursa had requested it for his training, had Keithen been allowed to learn to read and write.
Ursa spent the majority of his time with Meath, for Meath was like his son and his first apprentice - he had showed great talent in his skills so early. Though Ursa felt terrible that he could not spend that sort of time with Keithen, there just was not enough time in the day to train both equally. Though Ursa did his best to accommodate Keithen well, he searched for another Wizard to take him as their apprentice.
"Focus!" Ursa commanded Meath.
"I am trying!" Meath growled back tensely as he focused on the basin of water - his fingers no more than an inch away from the smooth surface.
"Picture ice forming on the surface," Ursa said sternly. "Center your Gift as if you were summoning fire, but will it frozen."
"I can feel it." Meath proclaimed enthusiastically as a thin layer of ice formed under his fingertips and slowly crept its way across the span of the basin.
Keithen looked up from his studies and could not help but watch eagerly and enviously. How he wished he was learning the things Meath was, instead of sitting there reading theory.
"Exceptional!" Ursa said proudly. "Though after your tenth try, I would expect so. Now freeze the basin all the way through," he added strictly. "And if you do not mind, do it quickly. I have other things to tend to this day."
Meath cracked a smile. He knew the old Wizard was just hazing him, trying to motivate him the best way he knew how. Nevertheless, even in the old man's stern words, Meath could still hear the approval.
"Anytime now, if you would like," Ursa mocked, as he sorted through several piles of parchments on the table, not looking up at Meath. "Do not worry, Keithen, about what Meath is doing, back to your studies. Finish that reading today and if I have time, I will teach you a new potion."
Keithen sighed and lower his eyes back to the parchments in front of him. Potions and theory were all Ursa ever taught him. Ursa had once asked him to summon Wizard's fire, but that had turned out badly for one of the bookshelves in the room.
Meath turned his attention to the basin again and began focusing his Gift when Rift entered the room.
"Master Ursa, His Majesty would like to see you," Rift spoke, standing just inside the doorway.
The sound of Rift's voice heated Meath's blood. His eyes squinted into a loathing glare. His Gift surge forth with the aid of his anger and the basin of water began to freeze and was not long until it was frozen solid. But it did not stop there. Frost and ice formed on the outside of the basin and cascaded down to the stone floor around it. The ice persistently consumed several places of the floor, growing thicker with each heartbeat.
"Enough!" Ursa ordered, knowing Meath would freeze the room solid if not stopped.
Meath balled his hands into fists and pulled them to his side, halting the ice from conquering any more of the stone. His breaths were deep and edgy.
Keithen's eyes could not help but leave his papers again at Meath's bitter display of his Gift.
"Next time, Rift, I would appreciate it if you waited for the lesson to be over before interrupting," Ursa spoke calmly.
Rift stood up straight and cleared his throat. "I will remember that for next time. The King is in the library."
"You may tell the King I will be there straight away - my lesson is nearly finished." Ursa replied, going back to his papers. Ursa waited several moments after the door was closed before speaking. "How many times have I told you not to integrate emotions into your studies?"
Meath exhaled deeply, "I know, I am sorry."
"You can do immense harm to yourself in doing so. Your broken heart is no reason to break your mind," Ursa scolded. "I am going to go see what the King wants. Clean up your mess," Ursa told him, handing him a chisel and hammer. "I will know if you use your Gift at all, and Keithen, do not help him." With that, he walked out of the room.
*****
With Ursa's lessons and the late nights he spent in the warrior's den helping prepare fresh soldiers, he was able to occupy his mind to some extent. He had volunteered his time to help train the new recruits in hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Not really for them, but for himself - it helped him take his frustrations out on something inanimate. But practice was over for the night and now Meath sat alone in his room staring at the candle flames dancing in the chilly draft that nearly always ran through the castle. It was the last night before the arrival of the Royal families from Zandor. He had not even seen Nicolette in the last few days. The last he had heard, they were having troubles with her wedding gown and she was holed up in her room with a handful of seamstresses.
Meath knew there was nothing he could do to impede what was going to come, even if there was a way, they would never get away with it. It would only make matters worse and he knew he had to let it go…let her go. It was foolish - it had always been foolish and now they were paying for it.
He clenched his fists tightly and glared irately at the flames of the candles as if they had done him this remorseless wrong. The flames grew brighter and more zealous with each passing second until they almost reached the roof. Then he slammed his fist against his wooden bed frame - the candles erupted, sizzling wax splattering everywhere, although none came his way.
After only moments in the gloom, Meath conjured a flame on the palm of his hand. Though he could feel the violent heat that came off the flame, it did not burn him - it was part of him. A Wizard's fire would not burn that which yields it - though curiously enough, the other elements could still do the caster harm.
As he stared into the flame, it began to grow and form into an almost liquid ball that was soon larger than his head. The fire went from a natural yellowy-orange, to a deep red with an almost clear white external layer. Meat
h knew he should not merge his emotions into his castings, but he could not help it. With a swift throw, the blistering orb shot out his window and into the night sky where it dispersed within a few hundred feet. He sat there staring off into the dark for nearly an hour. Finally, there was a light rap at his door, shaking him out of his contemplation.
As he lit the one candle that had survived his wrath, his door creaked open and a slender form wrapped in a black cloak slipped in, and taking care to confirm that no one had seen or followed, the dark figure promptly shut the door. Though the light of one candle was not enough to see well, Meath knew who had come into his room and his heart felt as if it would cease beating. Nicolette turned to him and pulled off the hood of her cloak and her auburn hair streamed down the sides of her face. Her light brown eyes glistened in the frail light as she looked at him.
"I had to see you again. I could not stay away any longer." Nicolette whispered as she made her way to him. Meath could tell she had been crying - even in the faint glow, he could see her eyes were crimson and swollen.
"If we are caught like this again, we might not be as fortunate as last time. This is treason… it will be my head and your honor now. We are not children anymore - we will not be shown sympathy," Meath whispered back, as he placed his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder. He did not really worry because he wanted her more than anything he had ever dreamed, and death would be a sweet liberation to living life without her.
"Then my life they would also have to seize, for I do not think I can do this, Meath." She wept, pressing herself harder into him. "I do not want to marry him, Meath, but there is nothing I can do. The fate of my kingdom and our people depend on it. I do not want this kind of responsibility - I just want to be common." She wept even harder.
They held each other in silence for a long time with neither needing to speak a word. Both could tell what the other was thinking and both knew they could do nothing to alter the outcome. Before either one knew it, they were asleep in each other's arms.
They both woke with a start and lay in panic as the door flew open to Meath's quarters. The tall, commanding figure of Ursa stood looming over them. His eyes were not livid, as they feared they would find them. Instead, they were overflowing with concern and knowing what would have happened if anyone else had found them.
"Foolish children, do you not know what would ensue if someone else found you like this? Meath, I told you this could not be!" Ursa paced the room in a rush and was more aggravated than Meath had ever seen before. "It is time for you to get back to your room, Highness, before anyone notices you are absent. Like the very conclusion-jumping Champion of yours, who would very gladly skin alive my dim-witted apprentice here." Ursa said, calming himself a little.
"You will not inform anyone about this, will you Master Ursa?" Nicolette feared what he would say as she straightened her garments.
"I will shield your secret, but I warn you now, do not let this happen again. If it had been any other who had come through that door, you would not be so blessed. If anyone finds out about this, it is treason for us all!" Ursa was infuriated that she even thought it necessary to ask, as he rushed her toward the door. He watched for an instant to make sure it was safe for her to leave and once she was gone and he had closed the door, he turned to Meath with a deep scowl.
"What are you trying to do you fool - get yourself killed? You cannot just have the King's daughter come and spend the night in your bed. What were you thinking? Have you utterly lost your mind, you halfwit? I cannot believe you would do such an imprudent thing," Ursa blared as quietly as he could, but with enough effort to show his frustrations.
Meath tried to clarify as he too straightened his attire. "Nothing even happened, we just..."
"That is not the point, fool. She is a Princess, and you are not a Prince or even of noble blood - she is betrothed to another. Do you know what would occur if it had been anyone else who had come through that door? If the King's knights did not run you through straight away, you would certainly be as good as dead. Now what good would that do you? I have not even mentioned that the Princess's reputation would be destroyed along with the chance finally to unite Zandor and Draco - bringing an end to our great King's royal bloodline. Who would want to marry our fair Princess if she were not untainted? Did you not stop to think that what you were doing would affect more than just your minuscule world? What you were doing would affect us all and your little heartbreak is the least of any of this," Ursa barked angrily.
Meath glanced toward his window and bit his lip for he knew better than to quarrel with the Wizard. He also knew Ursa was correct. Meath then noticed it was still moderately dark out, "How did you know she was here?"
"I had need of you early this day - the Prince, along with the other royals from Zandor, will be here by midday and the King has asked me to arrange a grand show for the wedding. We cannot afford any mistakes. Now get dressed…we have much to do before the day is done," Ursa said as he calmed himself fully.
*****
The trumpets sounded as the large group from Zandor made their way through the city toward the castle. Many in the city hurried off to acknowledge their new allies, while others muttered curses and threats under their breath. The two Kingdoms had only coalesced long enough for the common ambition of ridding both countries of the Barbarians - more often than not, they were at war. It was well known that on either side, not everyone welcomed this alliance. But both sides knew if they were to conquer the savages, they had to unite forces.
Once again, the castle was in a fluster making room for the thousand men and women who had come from the south for the wedding. As the group flooded into the courtyard, they all made way for the royal carriages so they could get as close to their welcome committee as possible. Since those from the south did not yet approve of those with The Gift, Ursa and Meath were not asked to be there.
King Borrack, Nicolette, Tundal, Dagon, their wives and children and the daughters from Dragon's Cove were present along with only the most prestigious families, and a hundred servants awaited the Royal Family from Zandor. Many more folks were there in the distance or watching from the castle parapet and windows.
The commotion and talking stopped as King Dante and his beautiful Queen - Glenelle - were assisted from their finely decorated carriage.
"How did you fare on your journey?" King Borrack asked after everyone had climbed out and all were making their way toward him and the others.
"It would have been a lot smoother if you had kept your roads up rather than letting them get riddled with holes and fallen trees," Prince Berrit answered with an attitude that showed his disappointment as he looked down at his dusty traveling garments, his cheeks flustered with anger. His younger brother, Kayrel, shook his head in conformity.
"Mind your tongue Berrit or I will...," his mother, Queen Glenelle snapped - she was all smiles as she was greeted by the others.
"The trip was long and wearing, but I had forgotten how beautiful the countryside is. Makes me wish I would have taken over this country when I might have had the opportunity," Dante joked as the two Kings embraced. Though the two kings had never gotten along well, they did their best to put on a good illusion for those around them. "This must be my future daughter-in-law," Dante said as he took Nicolette's hand in his, kissed the top of it, and smiled up at her with approval. "My son, she will make you a fine wife. There is none more beautiful than this little flower I see here before me," he boasted with satisfaction as he looked back to his son, who was still dusting off his traveling clothes. He seemed to be more concerned about that than looking up to see the woman he was to marry. When he was finished, his eyes met hers and he was transfixed by what he saw. A malicious grin formed on his face, but no one seemed to notice.
When Nicolette saw the look he had given her, it sent a quiver up her spine. She felt like running, but she stood her ground as the Prince, who was several winters older than she, walked toward her. He was holding out a f
ine golden necklace with a hefty pendant encrusted with diamonds and rubies. It surely was worth more than most common folk could make in a lifetime.
"This is but a small gift for my future bride. There will be many more where this came from after we have wed, my dear," Berrit said in a manner that made Nicolette's stomach twist and turn in disgust. He leaned in and kissed her palm - his tongue flicked her wrist, nearly making her cry out. It happened so fast that no one apart from Nicolette noticed. After composing herself, she thanked him and sanctioned him to put the bauble around her neck. The stroke of his hand was like the touch of death, sending more shivers down her spine. She hid it well - only Berrit seemed to take it in, his grin widening.
For several minutes, everyone made polite conversation about the trip or how their families and lands were doing. They also spoke about how one another were fairing against the hordes of Barbarians and how excited they all were about the wedding, as hollow a truth as it was.
"Well I am sure, after your long journey, you all would take pleasure in a warm bath and then some refreshments. A hardy feast awaits you, followed by an even better sleep. Tomorrow we shall start on the treaty, and final wedding plans," King Borrack declared while he greeted the rest of his new guests and then ordered servants to go and help with everyone's things.
*****
After half a fortnight, near every concern each Kingdom brought forth had been discussed and a suitable resolution had been established, some through heated debate, where others were easily resolved with little to no anguish. Trade routes had been prepared, soldier training placement had been agreed upon, so that each Kingdom's troops would be well versed in both countries terrain for better tactical purposes. Even where the Prince and Princess would reside had been decided. All that remained was the topic of The Gifted, which everyone had hoped to ignore.
"We have accomplished much this day," King Borrack pronounced after the newest decree had been passed around to be signed by all in attendance. "We do have but one more matter to discuss, it being the gravest, and likely the most heated and animated. I fear the hour has already grown late and we are all in high spirits this evening, so wherefore sully that good vibe. I suggest we wait until tomorrow before the final topic of our treaty is discussed at length." A chorus of agreement from everyone followed. "But before we all end for the night, I have an announcement that I would like to share with you all." Borrack stood from his chair, his mouth opened as if to say something, then shut again as he struggled to find the right words.
The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1) Page 4