The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1)

by Antonia Aquilante

Philip looked to him, studying his former lover, his former friend. Unlike Faron who wore his emotions plainly on his face, Vasco remained stoic. “I’ve heard enough.” He turned to Captain Loriot. “Take them into custody and transport them back to the city. Have the rest of their family taken into custody and questioned as well.”

  Faron yelled, demanding his family be left alone, and struggled as he was forcibly removed from the room by two guards. A guard came for Lilliale, taking her arm and leading her out. He was gentle with her but firm, keeping her moving when she tried to turn her teary, bewildered gaze back on Philip and Vasco. Before a guard could reach him, Vasco turned to Philip. “Philip—Your Highness, may I speak with you? In private?”

  Philip didn’t want to hear anything Vasco had to say, but that was an emotional reaction, one he couldn’t afford. He nodded and looked to Captain Loriot. With a gesture and a few words, Captain Loriot dismissed the remaining guards to the corridor outside the door, leaving Philip, Amory, Vasco, and Captain Loriot the only occupants of the room.

  “I wanted to speak in private.”

  “I don’t care,” Philip answered. “You can talk with Amory and Captain Loriot present or not at all.”

  Vasco was silent before he nodded. “Lilliale had nothing to do with it. Neither did my mother or my wife, or anyone else in the family.”

  “I think you can understand why I might not take your word for it. The rest of your family will be questioned.”

  “They had nothing to do with this, Your Highness. Please don’t punish them for something they weren’t a part of, something they knew nothing about. Spare them, I beg you.” Vasco’s stoic façade cracked enough for Philip to see the very real fear for his family. Philip almost told Vasco he should have thought of them before he and his brothers embarked on an assassination plot, but he wasn’t that cruel.

  “You know me well enough to know I won’t harm an innocent person, or you should. If, as you say, they weren’t involved, they’ll be released.” He considered the man standing in front of him. “And you? How involved are you?”

  Amory’s fingers moved in small, soothing motions over his. Amory knew him far too well.

  “I knew what they were doing,” Vasco said, his voice strong. “I didn’t stop them. I helped them.”

  Philip had expected it, but he’d hoped to be wrong, hoped his old friend hadn’t had a part in trying to kill Amory, hoped Vasco was the type of man who wouldn’t. But Philip wasn’t wrong, and hearing the confirmation was like a blow to his chest.

  “Why?” Amory asked, speaking for the first time. Perhaps he knew Philip couldn’t speak, despite wanting to ask that very question.

  There was disdain in Vasco’s eyes when he looked at Amory, and the unimaginable level of gall it took to look at Amory in that fashion rekindled an anger in Philip that burned away some of the hurt. “Why do you think? I would do anything for my sister, for her happiness and her well-being. I would do anything for my family.” Vasco paused, and if anything, his eyes got harder. “I couldn’t believe what you did, Philip. Marrying this—this—him. You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have been able to do it. It’s not something men like us can do. We get married to women of good families. We produce heirs. We have a duty and a responsibility to carry on the legacies of our families and our titles.”

  Philip found his voice again. “I’ve never found that loving Amory has interfered with my duties and responsibilities. He eases the burdens of them.”

  “I had to marry, Philip, a woman who would give me heirs and be a proper duchess. You should have done the same, and it should have been Lilliale. She would have made a perfect princess.”

  “Not with me. I was never going to marry her, Vasco. I wasn’t going to marry a woman at all.” Looking back, he could see it, that he never would have. And after meeting Amory, Philip never could have married anyone except him.

  “You’re a fool, Philip. Marrying a man and a commoner.”

  He stared at Vasco. “You didn’t expect to pick back up again with me, did you? You can’t be jealous. You never loved me. You couldn’t have left me as easily as you did if you had.”

  “I cared for you, which is why I know you’ve made a mistake. But I wouldn’t have married you.” Vasco looked Amory up and down. “I would never have done what he’s doing if I could.”

  “But you chose to punish me for marrying the man I love anyway.” Philip shook his head. “We’re done here. Get him out of my sight.”

  He forced himself to stand straight as Vasco was hustled from the room, but he couldn’t stop his shoulders from slumping as soon as the door closed behind Vasco and Captain Loriot. He would have to be strong again, but he needed a moment.

  “Pip.”

  Amory’s voice was soft, so full of love and concern it made Philip’s chest ache. His eyes brimmed with the same love and concern, along with understanding and the echo of the horror and sadness filling Philip. Amory said nothing more but opened his arms. With a shudder, Philip dropped down to his knees and fell into Amory’s arms, letting Amory hold him, hold him together in the face of betrayal by those who used to be friends.

  “IT’S OVER. It’s finally over.”

  Amory and Philip clung to each other for long moments after Vasco was taken from the room. Amory could almost feel Philip’s hurt and betrayal radiating off him, and Amory hurt for him. His only desire was to soothe it all away, to comfort Philip, to protect him from everything bad in the world and everyone who might hurt him.

  Then Philip murmured that it was over and kissed Amory. He’d been so concerned for Philip he hadn’t thought of what the confrontation meant. A wave of stunning relief hit Amory so hard he might have fallen if he hadn’t already been sitting. He didn’t have to be afraid anymore. He and Philip could live without the constant fear and anxiety of the threat to Amory’s life hanging over them. They could anticipate the birth of their child. They could just love each other. And with that amazing realization, he clung to Philip for a different reason.

  But it wasn’t over, not entirely. And the aftermath of what Vasco and his brothers did would be painful for far too many people.

  Despite the fatigue dragging at him and making him wish for his bed, Amory insisted on accompanying Philip to speak with Elodie, knowing the conversation would be a difficult one. He wasn’t wrong—in fact, it might have been more unpleasant than he anticipated. Philip spared his sister no details, explaining to her how Faron, Rayan, and Vasco had come to Alzata to kill Amory. She reacted as he expected her to. First with shock and disbelief, then a healthy amount of denial. And Amory couldn’t blame her. She loved Faron—how could she believe he would plot to carry out a murder? Unfortunately, she then acted as she often did when faced with something she didn’t want to hear. She fell into a tantrum.

  But apparently the day had been too much for Philip, and Amory couldn’t blame him either.

  “Enough,” Philip snapped out. Elodie stopped and stared at her brother with wide, startled eyes. When Philip continued speaking, his voice was firm but not unkind. “I know this is a shock, and I know it hurts, but it is true. You’re going to have to accept it. Mourn for what could have been, but accept what is. It’s time to grow up, Elodie.”

  Mourning was perhaps the best word Philip could have used. Over the weeks that followed, Elodie did mourn for the future she thought she would have with Faron. While Elodie needed to grow up, Amory wished she could have had a less painful way of doing it. He wished often those weeks could have been less painful for all of them. Vasco’s entire family was questioned and investigated. His mother, Lilliale, and his youngest siblings and wife were released and left the city, but Vasco, Faron, and one of their other brothers were put on trial for treason and attempted murder. And if the trials weren’t difficult enough, then came the punishments—imprisonments and executions and stripping Vasco’s family of their titles and land.

  Amory stood beside Philip through every moment of it, doing what he coul
d to make it easier and wishing he could do more. In those long days, Alzata was their refuge again, not from a killer but from the difficult decisions to be made and consequences to be faced. Amory refused to let the place be tainted by what happened there. Their first time back was strange for both of them, but the awkwardness soon passed, through stubbornness and a love of the estate. Even as the situation in Jumelle began to ease, they went, enjoying the quiet and the privacy to love each other and to prepare for the birth of their child.

  As time passed, the flutters of movement Amory felt from their child became strong kicks Philip was delighted and excited to feel. Philip spent more time with his hands on Amory’s growing belly, which Amory indulged him in, even when it seemed their child was playing by kicking at his father’s hands. A few more aches seemed a small price to see Philip so happy. Philip’s happiness, their child’s health, they made everything better for Amory whenever he began to feel uncomfortable in his changing body.

  And every moment of physical pain and mental discomfort was worth it the first moment Amory held his child. Of course, the baby decided to arrive at the most inconvenient time. Pain ripping through his abdomen woke him from a sleep he had only just managed to settle into despite the late hour. Philip called for Jadis and then held Amory, arms wrapping tight around him. Philip’s voice and hands were soothing and calm, but his eyes were panicked and afraid, and somehow Philip putting aside his own fear to calm Amory’s made Amory love him more. He tried to stifle his groans, seeing the reflection of his pain in Philip’s eyes, how the fear there flared at every sound Amory made, and to concentrate only on the feel of Philip holding him so securely.

  Jadis and Savarin arrived without delay, pulled from their own beds in the palace where they’d been staying since the time of the birth grew near, but looking composed and confident. Their calm competence soothed Amory’s nerves further. Because he was nervous, afraid really for what was to come, and the burning pain didn’t help. Jadis and Savarin pushed Philip from the room, despite Philip’s protests. Amory had to force himself not to reach out for Philip and beg him to stay, to hold his hand through the pain and fear.

  “I’m going to make you sleep now, Amory,” Jadis said. “When you wake up, the procedure will be done and your child will be here. Relax now.”

  How could he relax? What a ridiculous thing to say. He was about to tell Jadis so, but Jadis laid a hand on his forehead, and everything went black.

  When he woke again, his abdomen was slightly sore, and he was groggy, fuzzy. His eyelids were far too heavy to try opening them, and he wondered why he should bother. He should go back to sleep. Jadis murmured for him to wake up, and a baby was crying.

  His eyes snapped open. Jadis’s face came into focus above him. “Everything went perfectly. You may be a little tender and tired from the healing for a day or so, but you’ll be fine. Let’s get you sitting up so you can meet your son.”

  “Son?” Jadis helped him to sit and propped pillows behind his back, but Amory wasn’t paying attention to him. His gaze flew around the room, searching, until it settled upon Philip, holding a small bundle in his arms. “Philip.”

  Jadis stepped out of the way, and Philip was there. Amory didn’t realize he’d held out his arms until Philip settled the precious blanket-wrapped bundle in them, handling the baby as if he were the most breakable glass. The baby’s cries quieted, and he snuffled a little as he seemed to snuggle into Amory’s arms. He couldn’t sort out all the emotions rushing and swirling through him at his first sight of his son’s sweet face. Happiness that he had taken the chance. Awe that such a perfect, beautiful child came from him and Philip. Utter joy and complete fascination with the tiny baby he held in his arms. And the most profound love. He never could have imagined the day his father brought him to the palace with such despicable motives how his life would turn out, but he was so happy it had.

  He didn’t want to let the baby go. He didn’t want to look away. But Philip was beside him on the bed, one arm around his shoulders holding him close, the other sliding beneath Amory’s so they held their child together. Tearing his eyes away from the baby, he looked up at Philip. Philip seemed to feel Amory’s eyes on him, even though he stared at their child with every bit of the awe Amory felt written across his face, and he turned to look at Amory.

  Philip’s eyes held such joy, such love and adoration, it nearly took Amory’s breath. They looked at each other for long moments, their child held in their arms. Amory couldn’t find the words to express the love, the joy, the gratitude filling him to overflowing, but they didn’t need any. He saw everything he needed in Philip’s eyes, and he hoped Philip could do the same. After a long while, Philip smiled and kissed him, gentle and lingering, as their son slept in their arms.

  Keep scrolling for an exclusive excerpt from

  The Artist’s Masquerade

  By Antonia Aquilante

  As the first-born son of the Duke of Tournai and cousin to the prince, Cathal has always tried to fulfill his duty to family and country, including following through with an arranged marriage to Velia, cousin to the emperor of Ardunn. But it’s Velia’s companion, Flavia, who fascinates Cathal. Cathal doesn’t know that Flavia is really Flavian, a man masquerading as a woman to escape Ardunn, a restrictive place in which Flavian’s preference for men is forbidden.

  Even when Cathal discovers Flavian’s true gender, he cannot fight his attraction to him. Flavian is intrigued by Cathal, but Cathal is still betrothed to Velia, and Flavian worries Cathal is more taken with his feminine illusion than the man beneath it. While both men battle their longings for each other, spies from Ardunn infiltrate the capital, attempting to uncover Tournai’s weaknesses. They are also searching for Flavian, who possesses a magical Talent that allows him to see the truth of a person just by painting their portrait—a skill invaluable to Ardunn’s emperor.

  Coming soon to

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  Chapter 1

  “IT’S TIME you took a wife.”

  Cathal managed to keep his surprise hidden with some difficulty. That blunt statement was not what he’d expected when he received the summons to his father’s office. A discussion of family business, perhaps, or questions about happenings at the palace—even a diatribe about one of his cousin’s choices, since Father seemed to hate every one since the prince’s marriage to Amory—was what usually precipitated a call to his father’s presence.

  He’d never imagined Father would bring marriage up today. Cathal had seen no indication that Father was even thinking in this direction. Father said plenty as he pushed the prince to marry, and plenty more when Philip married a man instead of the woman Umber would have chosen, but he’d never said a word about his own sons’ need to marry.

  Cathal probably shouldn’t have been so surprised. He was twenty-five years old and his father’s heir, and Umber was a royal duke and dynastically-minded. Producing an heir for the dukedom was Cathal’s duty, despite the existence of his younger brothers. He’d always known it, and he would never think of shirking that duty.

  “Of course, Father.” He wasn’t interested in any woman in particular, but there were plenty of women who would make him a suitable wife. He was certain he could find someone who wouldn’t make the duty a chore. “I will begin looking for a wife immediately.”

  “No need. It’s all arranged.” Father returned his attention to the papers on his desk, as if what he said was of no particular consequence. As if he hadn’t just told Cathal his entire life was about to change and taken Cathal’s last bit of choice away at the same time.

  Cathal snapped his mouth shut when he realized it was hanging open. “It is?”

  “Of course.”

  Of course it was. Cathal should have expected this as well. Umber would never leave such an important choice—a family alliance, a mother for future dukes—up to Cathal. Father should have, or at least he should have asked for Cathal’s opinion. He was of age and had proven himself trustworth
y time and again, or he thought he had. It left a sour taste in his mouth to think that Father respected him so little.

  “May I ask whom I will be marrying?” He immediately regretted his tone as Father arched a single brow.

  Father let out a huff that expressed his disappointment more eloquently than a hundred words would have, but he answered anyway. “She’s a cousin of the emperor of Ardunn. Velia is her name. Beautiful, by all accounts, and accomplished, but the connections are the important part.”

  Cathal hardly heard anything after Ardunn. Cousin to the emperor of Ardunn? What was his father thinking? And how had he even managed it?

  Father looked up again, and this time his huff held more than a little annoyance. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Cathal didn’t know how he was looking at his father. Usually he had more control, but incredulity seemed to have obliterated it. “Ardunn, Father? I don’t understand. Why—”

  “Don’t be stupid. If your cousin isn’t going to do his duty and marry for the good of this country, then it falls to you to take up where Prince Philip failed.”

  That made even less sense. “But, Father, you negotiated a marriage contract with the emperor of Ardunn? Does Philip know?”

  His cousin couldn’t know. Cathal had damaged their relationship and weakened the trust Philip had in him—he knew that—but Philip wasn’t vindictive enough to keep something so big from Cathal, especially considering the prince’s hatred of arranged marriages. Though how a prince came by such a view Cathal would never know. Nevertheless, Philip would have said something, which meant Father had been negotiating with someone in Ardunn without Philip’s knowledge or consent.

  Umber scoffed. “He’ll know soon enough.”

  “But, Father, negotiating with Ardunn…. What did you—”

  “Are you questioning my ability to negotiate a marriage for my son?”