Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four)

by Breeana Puttroff

  Megan’s eyes widened. “You’ve been hurt here before, and you never even bothered to tell me.” It wasn’t a question. “You get hurt while I’m here, and I’m not even allowed to be there for you. You just run away and hide from me – get everyone here to guard you. From me.” Her eyes flitted from Thomas to Linnea and William, both still hovering over Quinn. “I . . . I can’t do this right now. Excuse me.”

  And with that, Megan stalked toward the door, slamming it behind her without ever looking back.

  All of the blood in Quinn’s body drained into her toes, and she was suddenly cold, even as tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes. What had she done? She didn’t want to be fighting with her mom. Especially now – when she’d made a decision that meant that soon there would be a more permanent separation from her. Holy crap – was that actually what she had decided?

  The room started spinning, and she felt an overpowering need to lie back down, though by the time she actually thought about it, her head was already on the pillow, and William was climbing onto the bed beside her.

  “You look a little green,” he said softly, easing her head onto his chest. “Did I take that thing out too soon? Are you going to throw up?”

  She shook her head – she was pretty sure she wasn’t. The tears weren’t nearly as cooperative as her stomach, though, and despite her best efforts to hold them in, she could feel William’s shirt getting damp underneath her cheeks.

  “I’ll get Mia to have some breakfast brought up in a little while,” Thomas said. His voice came from over by the door. “We’ll give you two some time, though.”

  She was relieved when the door clicked shut, and she was alone again with William.

  “I’m s – orry,” she choked, as the tears came in a flood now.

  “Shh . . . love.” He held her tighter. “I’m right here.”

  They lay there like that for several minutes, until Quinn’s tears finally subsided, and she pulled herself back up again, yanking a handkerchief out of the drawer of her bedside table and wiping furiously at her eyes with it.

  William sat up beside her, rubbing her back as he waited silently for her to finish. She took a couple of deep, shaky breaths, and then turned to look at him.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” she finally said.

  “What?” He wrinkled his brow, looking concerned.

  “Freaking out. Crying over everything. It’s stupid. I’m the one who made this decision. I have to figure out how to deal with it.”

  “Love, it’s been a really challenging couple of days. You’re allowed the occasional freak-out, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it makes me look like a real heir to the throne – crying because I had a fight with my mom.”

  He chuckled quietly, which for some odd reason calmed her a bit, rather than piquing her even more. “You’re still human, Quinn. Kings and queens cry too, you know. My father one night when Thomas first came home after . . . You were just kidnapped and injured, and now your family has shown up unexpectedly, and they could have been hurt, too – I think a little upset is allowed. It’s not like you were fighting with your mom over not getting home on time.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “No . . . I’m fighting with her over not going home at all.” The lump was back in her throat, but she was not going to lose it again. She just wasn’t.

  William’s arms closed around hers, and he pulled her closer so that her forehead was resting against his. “Yes, you are. And that isn’t easy. Be patient with yourself, love. Let’s take this one step at a time, okay?”

  After a long pause, she nodded, pulling back a little to brace herself for his reaction to her next sentence. “We can’t tell my mom about us yet, okay? I’m not ready for that.”

  His answering smile was gentler than she’d feared. “Well, I think she knows we’re courting, love. But as for the rest of it – I think maybe we need to take some time for the two of us to get used to it ourselves before we bring the rest of the world in. Especially while you’re fighting with your mom. I would like for our betrothal to be a happy thing.”

  “I’m not sure my mom will ever be happy about it, Will.”

  “Someday she will. Today’s not that day, though. And that’s okay.”

  “So you’re really going to keep this a secret, and not tell anyone?” she asked.

  “Well . . .” pink flooded his cheeks.

  “You already said something to Thomas, didn’t you?”

  “I might have let it slip that I asked you. He won’t tell anyone, though.”

  She sighed. “You know that means I’ll have to tell Linnea.”

  He kissed her on the nose. “She would have gotten it out of you anyway.”

  “True enough.”

  He kissed her on the lips then, a gentle, chaste kiss, and then pulled back far enough to study her face. “You know, the important question is not whether your mother is happy about it, Quinn. Are you sure it’s what you want?”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching herself. For just a moment, she imagined herself saying no, but that was a black thought, a physical pain inside her chest. She was sure. “Yes, Will.” She opened her eyes again, and met his gaze, looking deep into his gray eyes. “I’m not sure about the timing, or my mom, or anything else that’s going on. But I’m sure about one thing. I’m sure about you.”

  11. Stephen

  The door to Stephen’s office was closed as they approached, and Quinn was suddenly nervous – a feeling that grew stronger when she realized that she hadn’t seen Stephen at all since she had returned. She wondered if he, too, was angry with her, and her heart started pounding as Nathaniel reached for the doorknob.

  “Did you tell him?” she asked quietly.

  He turned around and looked at her. “No, I didn’t. This one is yours.”

  She swallowed hard, and then nodded.

  Nathaniel reached for the door again, and William squeezed her hand. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Yeah.” It wasn’t exactly true, but she also knew that she was never going to be fully ready, and that waiting wasn’t going to make it easier. The only thing that was going to settle her anxious nerves was just doing it.

  When they stepped inside the room and she saw Stephen, though, her resolve almost faltered. He was alone, sitting behind his giant desk, and he didn’t hear them enter at first. His head was resting on his hands, and he was pale. Dark, dark circles hung under his eyes.

  She looked up at Nathaniel in alarm. He squeezed her shoulder gently, and then turned to close the door, but as he did so, a hand appeared around the edge, pushing the door back open. A second later, Alvin stepped into the room. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, looking at Quinn.

  Stephen looked up at the sound and rose immediately to walk toward them.

  “Um, no. Of course not, please come,” Quinn said, a little flustered by Alvin’s sudden appearance. She wanted to ask him what he was doing here, but was afraid that would sound rude.

  “Somebody had to come and name the baby,” he said, and it took her most of a minute to remember that Rebecca had just had the baby, and that she’d been wondering why he was here. Could Alvin read her mind? He smiled and winked at her, which, at that moment, didn’t exactly make her feel better.

  They met Stephen in the middle of the room, near the circle of couches and armchairs that surrounded a large, low table. He wrapped William in a hug that was so forceful it surprised her, and he didn’t let go for several minutes. When he finally did let him go, he stepped back and gave him a severe look. “Don’t ever do something like that again. Do you even begin to understand what could have happened? Do you?”

  William stared at the floor. “Yes, Father. I know it was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

  “And you.” He turned his attention to Quinn. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m okay.”

  And then he hugged her, too, gently but tight, and her confidence return
ed. When he pulled away, she looked him in the eyes. “Are you all right, Stephen?”

  He sighed. “Not very, Quinn. My kingdom is under attack. My family is under attack.”

  Her insides clenched down hard. “What do you mean?”

  “Come and have a seat. We have a little while before I meet with my council.”

  William led her around to one of the armchairs before looking up at his father. “Do you want me in here?”

  Stephen looked around, at Quinn, and then at Alvin and Nathaniel, who had taken seats on one of the couches. Nathaniel nodded slightly. Alvin shrugged visibly, smiling as usual, and Stephen turned back to William. “So long as Quinn wants you here, son, you’re welcome to stay. Nothing I say is going to be private information for much longer. I will be sharing this with your mother later this afternoon. Simon knows already – he’s discussing things with Marcus right now.”

  “Quinn?”

  She nodded. Yes, she wanted him here. The decision they’d made this morning – whether they were ready to share it with anyone or not – meant that anything she did affected him, too. She was surprised to discover that thinking about that calmed her, rather than scared her.

  William sat down in the chair next to her, and Stephen sat across from them.

  “After you disappeared, Quinn, we were finally able to get some more information out of Gavin.”

  Quinn’s hands balled into fists in her lap. Gavin was William’s cousin who had been caught spying and passing information to Tolliver.

  “He believes that Jonathan was sent here by Tolliver to gather information about certain things taking place here in our kingdom. Those “refugees” who’ve been appearing near the bridge for most of the last moon were not refugees at all, but a small group of forces under Jonathan’s command.”

  Quinn took a deep breath and nodded – she’d sort of guessed that herself, after what Jonathan had told her in his tent. “Have they been planning an attack?”

  “Not exactly – not this group of forces anyway. It appears they had two main objectives. Jonathan was to learn as much as he could about the possible existence of a gate to another world – which he has probably done – although Gavin thinks it’s unlikely that more than a few of his men knew about that. That part is very secret.”

  “Then what’s the other part? Why did the soldiers think they were here?”

  Stephen’s expression grew so dark that it made her shiver. “To accomplish what has always been Tolliver’s objective – to return to Philotheum with Linnea.”

  The room was silent for several moments as the impact of that statement settled over all of them.

  “He’s never going to give up on that, is he?” Quinn finally asked.

  “No. I can only guess that he really believes in the importance of the prophecy. Or someone does. Hector, perhaps. It may be that Tolliver is having a difficult time getting the support of his council to take the throne without fulfilling the prophecy. Certainly he’s having a hard time holding the support of a good number of his people. If he just takes the throne, it’s possible he could have a revolt on his hands, but if he had fulfilled the prophecy . . .”

  “And they really think that kidnapping your daughter will unite the kingdoms?”

  Stephen shook his head. “They don’t see it that way, Quinn. What they see is a royal family on their side who has run out of options. There are no legitimate heirs, things are going wrong – but there’s a simple solution. A prophecy that will unite them with a family that has produced an exceptional number of royal children. And we’re blocking them, refusing them what they believe they’re supposed to have.”

  “Linnea doesn’t get a say in that?”

  “I suppose they think she should be grateful – a sixth-born princess with the opportunity to be queen.”

  Quinn felt her nausea returning. “And so they’re willing to go to war for it?”

  “More than willing. One of our western villages was invaded late last night.”

  Yes – it was definitely nausea. “So we’re at war.”

  Stephen’s eyebrow went up just a little. “We? Yes, I suppose so. There’s been no official declaration of anything. I suspect the invasion of Anwin is more a show of force and a distraction than anything else. But it certainly requires a response.”

  “Anwin? Isn’t that where Charles is?”

  “Yes, that’s where Charles’ home is, and where Ellen has also been staying. I’m sure it’s some kind of message to them as well. Fortunately, they all left early yesterday morning to finally begin traveling here to the castle. Unfortunately, that means they’re out there traveling, and they’re not well-guarded.”

  Quinn suddenly felt guilty that she’d been glad that so far Ellen hadn’t made her promised trip to the castle. She’d liked Ellen the one time she had met her, but her coming here felt like more pressure for Quinn to make a decision. She didn’t know what Ellen’s feelings were on Quinn being the rightful heir to the throne.

  She was even more worried about meeting Charles for the first time. He had a daughter, Gianna, who, if Quinn didn’t exist or choose the throne, would be the only rightful contender against Tolliver.

  Worries notwithstanding, though, right now she only hoped they were all safe. Whether she knew them well or not – they were her family. More than that, now, she realized. They were her responsibility.

  One more deep breath and she would be able to say what she came here to say. “How will it change things when they find out I’m the real heir, and that I intend to take my throne?”

  Her words had the intended effect. Stephen’s eyes widened and he grew very still. “I was wondering if that’s what you had decided, when I learned that you told Jonathan who you are. That was very risky.”

  “I know. I’m not sure I meant to tell him – but I don’t regret it. I’ve made the decision, Stephen, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “What about your mother?”

  Quinn sighed. “I started to tell her last night, but she isn’t ready to hear it.”

  William reached for her hand as Stephen nodded. She hadn’t told him quite how badly that conversation with her mother had gone.

  “This has to be very difficult for her,” Stephen said. “It will take her some time to get used to the idea.”

  “I doubt she’ll ever get used to it.”

  “She may never like it, but I think she’ll accept it, eventually, if we take it slowly, Quinn.”

  “We don’t have time to take this slowly.”

  “If I may interrupt, Lady – Princess Quinn,” Alvin said, “I should think there’s always time to do the important things right.”

  She turned to look at him, already feeling the stress of the conversation getting to her. “What is that even supposed to mean? We’re about to be at war.”

  Alvin didn’t appear to be fazed by her tone at all. His blue eyes sparkled as he answered her. “If you’re going to be the queen of a kingdom, milady, this is something you need to learn. You must have your own affairs in order before you can hope to be successful at managing those of others.”

  She knew that the irritation that was rising inside of her was largely the result of the stress of the last few days, and she tried to keep herself calm. At the moment, she didn’t trust herself to respond.

  “So what do we do for now?” William asked.

  “Right now, there isn’t much to do,” Stephen said. “We need to wait for Charles and Ellen to arrive here and discuss things with them. I’ve sent some forces to Anwin to see what we’re dealing with there – and we’re still dealing with the fire. Everything is as under control as it can be. Quinn, I think this might be a good time for you to recover, and to spend some time with your family. This is likely as calm as things will be for a while.”

  “And tonight, you’ll celebrate,” Alvin said. “There’s a gorgeous new baby to name, and I believe I smelled a delicious roast on the way up here. I may just stop by the kitchens and ma
ke a request for that chocolate cake, too.”

  Quinn took a deep breath – wondering how her mother felt about Naming Ceremonies.

  12. Sharing the News

  “Nice one.”

  Quinn spun around, startled at the sound of William’s voice. Behind her, a straw-filled dummy plopped to the ground, a small dagger embedded in the center of its chest. “Thanks.”

  He walked up to her and put his arms around her waist, kissing her on the tip of her nose. “I’m surprised you two are still in here doing this.” She saw his eyes drift to her still-bandaged leg, but – wisely – he didn’t comment.

  “If she’s out here, then she can avoid talking to her mother,” Linnea said, pulling her arm back and letting another knife fly, neatly beheading another dummy.

  Thomas shot a look at his sister, but Linnea didn’t even notice.

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “I’m not avoiding her. I talked to her at breakfast.”

  Linnea raised an eyebrow, and Quinn’s heart sank. “Whatever, Nay. It’s not like she’s exactly talking a lot to me, either. I’m not going to hang out upstairs and just stare at the walls with her.”

  “It’s true – throwing knives is much more exciting.” William said, clearly trying to lighten her mood. Letting go of her, he reached down into a wooden box and withdrew a rough metal ball, slightly larger than a tennis ball. As Linnea crossed back over to them, he pulled back his arm and lobbed the ball at the dummy. It wobbled as the ball grazed the side, and then sailed past, landing about five feet back.

  “You’d be deadly if you could aim,” Thomas said.

  William shrugged. “Not everyone can be you.”

  Quinn picked up another one of the balls. The first time she’d held one, she’d been surprised at how heavy it was. She took a step, and launched it overhand, connecting squarely with the dummy’s head, and sending it toppling over again.

  William whistled appreciatively. “I’ll stick to patching up the ones you two injure.”

  His tone was joking, but his words made her stomach flip. “I don’t ever want to injure somebody.”