by Renna Peak
I grip the armrests of the chair so tightly, I think I may leave marks. But my gaze never leaves the king’s. “I should…I should return to Rosvalia.”
“What?” I can feel William’s eyes on me without looking at him. “Justine, we barely escaped—”
“Your wife should do what she feels is best for her country. And I think she might have the ear of her brother more than she had the ear of her father.” He lifts a brow. “Perhaps he might be willing to see reason when it comes to the threat of a war between our countries.”
I give him another slight nod.
“Father, you don’t understand. Her father…he threatened to take our children from her womb. He was going to tear them from her, just as he did before.”
The king’s eyebrow arches a little higher, but he doesn’t respond to his son’s words. “If you feel you might be able to sway your brother’s actions—”
“She can’t.” William sounds almost frantic. “Her brother doesn’t listen to her any more than he listens to me.” He pauses for a moment. “Tell him. Tell him, Justine.”
I shake my head slightly. “He doesn’t. We won’t listen to me. William is right about that.” Our gaze remains unbroken. “You said my mother had something to do with this?”
The king’s shoulders drop. “I’ve only heard the most basic of details. It appears there may have been some sort of poisoning.”
“Oh.” My stomach twists on itself. I really have no idea what I should do. There is no longer any threat of my taking the throne, so my children—my marriage—shouldn’t be in danger any longer.
“I’ve sent word to your brother about our plans for retaliation for the bombing of the mines this morning.”
“Bombing.” I nod a few times. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
The king nods. “It appears your father had some sort of weapon built to destroy the salt itself—to ensure that when the mines were destroyed, the salt would be destroyed along with them.”
“I see.” I nod a few more times. “But there were no fatalities, is that correct?”
King Edmund gives me a single nod. “It is. You and my son seem to have saved a number of lives.”
“Good. I’m…glad. Glad there were no deaths.”
“As am I.”
I nod again. “And what…what exactly are you planning in retaliation?”
“Nothing so destructive, I promise you.”
“Good. But if I’m to advise my brother—”
“Sanctions. There are already seven other countries who’ve agreed, and another eight who are considering my plan. We’ll be severing ties with your country as far as trade goes. No imports. No exports.”
“Seven countries.” It isn’t so much a question as me trying to get the information into my addled mind. “And eight others might be signing on.”
“Yes. And I expect that far more may sign on if we can get that large a block to begin with.”
“Father—”
William stops speaking when his father’s gaze suddenly snaps to his with a clear but wordless warning.
“King Edmund, I’m sure you understand how devastated Rosvalia already is from the recent storm. My country has still not fully recovered—”
“I am well aware of that, Princess Justine.”
“So you understand that trade sanctions will unfairly affect the citizens of my country?”
He folds his hands together, leaning slightly over his desk. “I’m willing to negotiate the terms, Your Highness.” A slight smile comes to the corners of his lips. “If you return to Rosvalia and convince your brother that he needs to abdicate the throne to you.”
William
Justine stares at my father, wide-eyed. I know this is a lot to take in at once—the death of her father, the guilt of her mother, the elevation of her brother, the threat of war on her country—but Justine is strong, and I watch as determination slowly takes over her features.
“I’ll do what I can,” she tells my father. “I’ll do everything I can.”
She turns to me, her eyes bright with purpose. Now that she’s accepted what she must do, I can see that there’s no stopping her.
“You should stay here,” she tells me. “It’s safer.”
“Like hell I will.”
“William—”
“You think I’m going to let you go back there alone? Face Reginald on your own? While you’re pregnant?” I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I made a promise to you, Justine—I said I’d never let anything come between us again. And I mean to keep that vow. I won’t be apart from you, especially not now.”
My father cuts in. “And if he decides to imprison you again, what then? We need you here, William. We need the entire family together in a show of strength.”
“Justine is my family, too,” I protest. “Whether you want to accept it or not, she and I are married. If she convinces Reginald to abdicate, then I will be Prince Consort, and I should be there by her side to manage this situation.” I look back at Justine. “I’ve come to care for your country’s people, too. I want to be there.”
She looks at me for a long moment, then nods. I hear my father heave a sigh.
“My sons are a bunch of fools,” he mutters, not quite to himself. Louder, he says, “Very well, William. I know I cannot stop you, and this isn’t the time for a family dispute. But if any harm comes to you, God help me. Your mother will never forgive me.” His eyes flick back to my wife. “Penelope has suggested to me that my behavior toward you earlier was less than cordial. I’m sure you understand why it was necessary, under the circumstances.”
It’s not quite an apology, but it’s the closest we’ll get from my father. Justine seems to understand—she gives a small curtsy.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I understand.”
There are a few choice words I’d still like to say to my father, but now is neither the time nor the place. There are more important matters at hand.
“We should leave at once,” Justine says, reading my mind.
My father nods. “I’ll have a car readied for you.”
Within half an hour, Justine and I are sitting a car, the capital city of Montovia behind us. Her hand is laced through mine, but her eyes are on the scenery passing by the window. She doesn’t have to tell me how anxious she is—I can read it in the way she holds herself, the way her fingers close around mine. I can feel it in my own bones, too—a jittery sort of tension, the knowledge of how much rests on us. On her.
I know she’s strong enough to handle it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
I reach over, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her back against my chest. She doesn’t resist, falling back against me with a sigh. My arms loop around her waist and hold her halfway in my lap. My lips brush against her hair.
“We’ll get through this,” I murmur. It’s all I have to offer her right now—comforting words, comforting touches. I have no idea what we’ll encounter when we reach Rosvalia. Father wanted to send a couple dozen members of the Royal Guard with us as a precaution, but we were concerned that bringing armed guards would be interpreted as a challenge. Instead, our “security team” consists of only four men, two for each of us, and they ride in cars before and behind us—like we’re simply a small diplomatic team, and not our countries’ main hope for avoiding war.
I run my fingers gently up and down Justine’s forearm. It will be a few hours before we reach Rosvalia, and that feels like a lifetime. I suspect we’ll both spend most of that time worrying, playing through the possibilities of everything that could go wrong. What happens if we can’t convince Reginald to abdicate? What if he, as we both fear, is far more tyrannical than his father? What if he means to harm Justine, or our unborn children? What if he tries to make me a prisoner again? I don’t want to think about any of it.
Justine seems just as antsy. She shifts in my arms, unable to find a comfortable position, and I lean down and kiss her on the top of the head again.
&n
bsp; “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her.
Her voice is quiet. “And if we don’t?”
“We will.” I squeeze her. “You were born to be queen, Justine.”
She doesn’t answer. I kiss her on the temple, trying to soothe her, and after a moment, she twists around in my arms and presses her mouth against mine.
I return her kiss eagerly, opening my lips to hers. She moans softly as my tongue flicks against her teeth. When she pulls away, there are spots of color on her cheeks. She curls her hands around the back of my head.
“Distract me,” she whispers. “Make me forget about all of this, just for now.”
I glance toward the front of the car. The privacy screen is closed, and I don’t believe the driver can hear us unless I press the intercom button. Either way, I’m not sure I care—not when Justine is looking at me like that.
I haul her fully into my lap, and my mouth attacks hers. She bites down on my bottom lip, and a soft whimper escapes her as my hands roam down her back. Her hands tighten on my hair, her fingers curling against my scalp, and her body presses against mine as if she can’t get close enough.
I’m just as hungry for a distraction as she is. My body fills with heat and desire, my muscles tightening and my skin tingling. I need her more than I’ve ever needed her. I need to convince myself that she’s here, that she’s safe, and that nothing will tear us apart. Not even this.
I’m not sure who’s the first to begin tearing at the other’s clothes. All I know is that within moments, we’re both practically bare beneath the waist. Justine is still on top of me, and she straddles me, her thighs on either side of mine. When she sinks down onto me, it’s as if the entire world comes together for a brief, miraculous moment—everything is as it should be. I feel alive and powerful. And Justine is safe and perfect, brimming with an energy that overwhelms me.
She kisses me as she begins to move, and I’m lost in the taste of her, in the feel of her joining with me again and again. In this moment, I’m willing to believe that anything is possible—such is the power of being with this woman, of surrendering to the feelings she arouses in me. Together, she and I are invincible.
When she reaches her peak, she bites down on my lip again. As her body tightens around mine, as I hurtle toward my own climax, I tighten my arms around her, holding her as close to me as possible. I never want to lose this feeling of connection. I’m lost without it.
Afterward, she stays in my lap for some time, clinging to my shoulders, her panting breath against my throat. I keep my arms around her, and my lips rest against her hair.
We can do this, I tell myself. We’ll figure it out. We’ll stop this war.
I don’t have the strength to entertain any other possible outcome.
Justine
As our motorcade pulls up to the palace, I’m gripped with a new wave of fear. It hasn’t even been a day since William and I were held prisoner here. It hasn’t been a day since my father threatened everything I hold dear.
And now he’s dead.
I’m still not sure I believe it. It all seems to surreal. Even with the men William’s father insisted upon sending with us, there’s no guarantee we won’t all be apprehended as soon as we leave the cars.
I stare out the window, looking up at the palace before me. It’s the middle of the night, but the building seems to be alive with activity. Guards are rushing about outside, but not because of my arrival.
I move to exit the car, but William grips my forearm.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
I look back at him. “I know. But I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”
“I’m here to stand by your side, Justine. No matter what you might need. No matter—”
“He could throw you in the dungeon again. He could throw us both—”
“I believe my wife knows the secret way out of the dungeon, in the unlikely event we’re imprisoned again.” He smiles at me, but it isn’t one of his silly grins. He threads his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand. “I’m not going to let you face your brother alone.”
I give him the smallest of nods, and his smile widens.
“Stay in the car for a moment. I’m going to have a few of the men outside, just in case.”
I do as he asks, waiting for him to tell his father’s men whatever it is he has to say. He returns a few moments later, helping me out of the car before we make our way up the steps.
He turns to me before we reach the doors. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
I nod again, but my stomach is twisting on itself. My heart thrashes in my chest—I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this level of fear, even in the worst of times.
The guards who are usually at the door aren’t here—every so often a group of three or four of them scurry past on the driveway and around to the back of the building, but no one appears to be securing the door.
I walk right in—I suppose anyone could, given the circumstances.
The palace is bustling with activity—people are rushing about, and most of them don’t seem to know what they’re doing or where they are headed.
It’s a mess.
I turn to William. “We should go to my brother’s office first. He may have already moved—”
“Your Highnesses!” The young guard who assisted us yesterday—Julian—comes to stand before us. “Your Highnesses,” he repeats, out of breath. “I…we thought you’d left.”
“We did.” William studies the boy. “What’s going on here?”
“His Majesty…” Julian’s gaze darts to mine before it drops to the floor. “Apologies, Your Highness. I’m…so sorry for your loss.”
“Then it’s true?” I’m not even certain what it is I hear in my own voice. I should be saddened—my father is dead, after all. But there’s a certain other quality I hear—almost an eagerness to know if I might be able to allow myself the slightest bit of relief at the news.
The boy’s mouth falls open slightly and he glances between William and me. “I…I don’t know how much I should say out here.” He cocks his head, looking over William’s shoulder. “Come with me.”
He starts for a small conservatory off the lobby, and William and I watch him for a moment. William finally takes my hand in his, leading me into the room where Julian has gone.
As soon as the door closes, the boy begins speaking. “Your father…I thought he was going to have my head when he found out you were both gone.” He gulps. “I…I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, Your Highnesses.”
“Not at all.” William gives him a small shake of his head. “You risked your career—your life for us. My wife and I intend to reward your loyalty.”
“I…I appreciate that.” The boy frowns. “I’m not certain what happened to King Maximilian. There are rumors, to be sure—”
“Do you know where my brother is?” As much as I might like to hear what rumors the palace staff are spreading, it serves no purpose at the moment. “Is he in his office?”
“I couldn’t say, Your Highness.” Julian’s eyebrows draw together. “The last I’d heard, he’d abandoned the palace altogether. No one seems to know what’s going on—”
“And where is my mother?”
He frowns. “They…they’ve taken her to the jail just outside town, Your Highness. The Royal Guard said it wouldn’t do to have her held inside the palace walls. Not after what happened.”
I nod. “And do you know what did happen? Not what the palace rumor mill is spewing.”
“She poisoned him, Your Highness. She admitted it herself. Laughed about it, even. I…I saw it with my own eyes.” His forehead wrinkles. “It was…terrifying.”
Poison? That seems a bit too much, even for my mother.
I watch the boy for a moment. “Do you have any evidence?”
“There was evidence, Your Highness. I’m not privy to the details, of course, but the Royal Guard…” He frowns, and the way his expression changes, it almost looks as
though he might cry. “I heard there was no doubt of her guilt.”
Regicide is punishable by death in Rosvalia, as it is in most places. But I can’t worry about that at the moment—at least my mother is inside a cell, unable to harm anyone further.
I need to find my brother.
I turn to William. If Reginald has really left the palace, there’s only one place he would have gone. “We need to get back in the car.”
“We need to settle this place down, first.” He places a hand on my forearm. “Perhaps…perhaps you might give the staff some direction.”
I turn back to Julian. “Spread word that I’ve returned to the palace.”
“I…” The boy frowns, and gives me an awkward bow. “Begging your forgiveness, Your Highness, but I believe most of the staff are afraid we are now at war with Montovia. After the news of the mine explosion…”
William turns back to the boy. “No one was killed in the accident. Princess Justine and I made sure of it.” He watches the boy for a moment. “And we have you to thank for our being able to save as many lives as we did. Without your help…”
“It was my honor, Your Highness.” He gives William the same shallow bow.
“Tell the staff that I am going to do everything in my power to keep us from going to war. It’s the only reason William and I have returned.”
“Well, not the only reason.” William gives my fingers another squeeze.
Yes. My birthright. I think William may have forgotten that I’ve not produced the required four male heirs for my legal ascension to the throne. But that news should wait until we have no audience.
“I…I’ll begin telling everyone right away, Your Highness.” He starts for the door before turning back to face us. “And I’m honored that I was able to help.”
“Thank you for your service.” I give the young man a curtsy as William gives him a bow.