by Cara Coe
“He is honorable and just,” she said, settling on a handful of safe words.
“You took a deadly shot for him. That is more than an admiration of his honor.”
“I didn’t think. In that moment he was a friend.”
The king chuckled. “Friends. That word hasn’t been applicable between members of different kingdoms since my wife died.”
Amelie’s eyebrows rose. King Armiss noticed and nodded curtly. His bishop took her rook. “Yes, little spy, my wife had a friend outside the kingdom. Your queen. It was never confirmed or spoken of. But I saw the way they looked at each other when the five kings met each year to reconfirm the treaty. And she cried that one night, each year, for something lost.” He gave a thoughtful pause. “Why am I telling you this?”
“My affliction, your Majesty,” Amelie answered, using her knight to take his offensive bishop. “Perhaps this is where you should take your leave. You are succumbing much faster than I am used to and I’ve been deliberately trying to withhold my influence.”
“Perhaps,” he mused, though his eyes roved over her, conflicted.
Amelie stood quickly and bowed. “Good day.”
She held her composure until he exited her chamber and then she could not. Shaking, she gripped the back of her chair. Her mother and the late queen had been allies? She felt like her feet could not find purchase on the cold floor beneath her. Her mother was an endless vault of locked secrets, it seemed. Amelie paced the room to calm down before Henna found her in this state and insisted on fussing over her. As for King Armiss, Amelie could sense his fondness growing but she didn’t know yet if it was her advantage or an obstacle.
Both his and Prince Kernan’s visits were welcome distractions as she waited for her next move but her heart ached for Prince Seth. She had not seen or heard from him since the day at the lake. Guards were posted outside her door but they were of little consequence. Her training meant she could incapacitate them with a focused blow to the jugular or sweet talk them into typing themselves up to her bedpost with her magic. Or her practiced stealth allowed her to scale the balcony and slink into the copse of trees that melted the palace gardens into the woods beyond. But two things maintained her appearance of captivity: direction on the best course of action from Sir Duncan and seeing Prince Seth again. Only one of these reasons should matter, but Amelie knew both carried tremendous weight on her decision.
She finally settled her nerves and crossed the room to the writing table where a book on the history of Draeden lay underneath sheaths of paper. She had swiped it under the nose of her guards while perusing the library, pretending to take a shallow interest in its contents. She felt she needed to catch up since her mind had sometimes wandered during then hours she spent studying the kingdoms with Sir Duncan. She tucked the book into the folds of her enormous skirt, the only thing those horrendous dresses were good for that Henna kept producing from various chests.
Before cracking open the dusty volume, Amelie wondered briefly if the queen would accompany the delegation, then dismissed the thought entirely. Her mother hardly left her wing of the castle these days. She summoned Amelie and Claudia when she wished to see them but only Claudia still responded. Amelie still seethed over learning her curse was the result of her mother’s actions and the queen urged Amelie to take advantage of the king’s advances towards her.
She thought back to when she had fretted over telling her mother about King Byron's growing interest for fear of what it would mean for the kingdom and her mother's marriage. But after a particularly disturbing visit with the king, Amelie knew she could wait no longer. She sat down with her mother one day in the secrecy of her bedroom. Her hands shook as she told her mother of her husband's behavior over the last few months.
“That kind of control is power, my dear,” she’d said, cold to Amelie’s tearful confession.
“Wh-what?” Amelie bubbled between sobs. “Did you not hear me? He is making advances on my womanhood.”
The queen grew quiet. “I know, Amelie. A wife knows all. You’re fifteen with a powerful gift. If you have the will of the king, you’re doing better than I. And that’s all a woman wants for her children. Better.”
“This is not a gift!” Amelie shouted, horrified. “This is a curse. And you treat it with such reverence!”
“Do not raise your voice to me! I know exactly what this is. I knew when you were in the womb the power you possessed. I could feel it. I could wield it in some small amounts. I rose to queen with it. You wield it in far greater amounts than I did. You will go far with this, Amelie. You will do great things! No matter what fool of a man marries you and inherits the throne you will lead the kingdom with your influence over him.” She crossed the room to Amelie and rested a hand on her cheek. “You will never answer to a man again.”
Amelie’s eyes grew hard and she stepped back from her mother’s touch. Amelie was disgusted. Apparently a second member of the family falling to her curse was not enough to break through her mother's misplaced determination. “No, Mother. I serve my kingdom which includes the king. I answer to him. And thanks to you, he may very well take what he pleases. Not every male member of our family will end his life to keep from violating me.”
The queen glared at her daughter. “Do not speak of Phillip that way.”
“That is the way it was! You have a hand in his death!”
The last outcry evoked a slap across her cheek. Amelie’s skin burned.
“Ungrateful child,” Queen Gala spat. “You are young now. But you will see. Many wish for your kind of power. I loved Phillip like he was my own son. And I love your sister, but she cannot carry magic like you do. Do not waste it.”
Queen Gala left Amelie in furious silence, stoning another portion of her heart. Phillip, King Byron, her mother. The curse was stripping away the security she had with people she spent her life trusting. Only Claudia and Millie and maybe even Sir Duncan kept the remaining bits warm and for that she loved the girls dearly and served Sir Duncan faithfully. It disturbed her, the way Prince Seth was slipping in where only so few were now allowed. It unsettled her in how his absence emptied her when she thought wistfully of their exchanges on the road and how she was disappointed he was gone when she’d awakened in this room.
“It’s no matter,” she muttered to herself. In a few day’s time, she’d be back at the convent with hopefully very little ripples created in the aftermath of this failed mission.
Her balcony windows were open and the smell of rain permeated the air. It calmed her memories and she was able turn her focus to the volume in front of her. She cracked open the book to where she had left off and began to read.
Chapter 24
Amelie
A knock roused Amelie from light sleep. She hadn’t realized she’d sunk into a doze on the writing desk. Her cheek was mashed to the surface wood in a position that began to impart its pain on her body once the veil of sleep lifted.
Setting aside the rumpled paper, she stretched her stiff back then made her way to the heavy oak door, smoothing the wayward strands of her hair back behind her ear.
Prince Seth stood there, wet dripping in his eyes, breathing hard.
Surprised, Amelie moved aside to let him in. He made his way in reluctantly, glancing to the left and right, taking in her quarters. Amelie closed the door behind him and swept to the chest she’d seen Henna dig in countless times to produce a large cloth towel. Her hand trembled slightly as she extended it to him. He took it silently, holding it clutched in his hand instead of using it on the droplets falling from his hair into his eyes.
“You’re wet,” she noted.
Prince Seth glanced down as if to confirm this, then back up holding her eyes with his own. The sound of his breathing softened to a less audible level, but he still looked as though it was laboring him.
“I was riding through the storm,” he finally said. “I just now returned to the palace. Forgive my impatience. I didn’t take the time to present myself in a
more proper manner.”
Something was unfurling inside Amelie, the way he was staring at her. Her legs shook.
“Henna will give me an earful for the mess you’re creating on the floor,” she said.
“Send her to me then.” His expression burned. He looked as though he was struggling for words and he finally settled on one to carry the weight of everything he was feeling. “Amelie.”
All the gnarled feelings of concern, longing, and rejection twisting inside Amelie over the past several days gave way to a rushing relief that caused her to bolt across the room and throw her arms around his neck, pressing him with such force that he stumbled backwards before setting his footing.
His surprise was quickly replaced with a contented sigh as he squeezed her back.
“You’re alive,” he finally whispered.
Amelie pulled away abruptly and shoved him in the shoulder. “Where were you?”
Seth finally used the towel, drying his face. “Finishing what we started. My brother sent me after the trail while it was still fresh.”
“I was half dead.”
“My men and I are the best trackers in the kingdom. I was under orders. I answer to Kernan.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And I was a wreck. Kernan was giving me a focus.”
“So what did you find out?”
“My men are still tracking.”
Amelie’s forehead wrinkled together in confusion. “You left your soldiers?”
“I got word you woke up. I have pages in the palace Kernan doesn’t control.”
“I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with your brother. He won’t react well to your change in orders.”
“You’re more important.” Seth toweled off his hair, leaving it sticking awry in several places. Those words took the air from Amelie and she steadied herself by resting a hand on her bedpost. Seth noticed and took her reaction as concern for his predicament. “Kernan will recover,” he assured her with a grin. “I mostly answer to him. He’s not King yet.”
“Seth, I must tell you something.”
“No I must tell you something first, something that needs to be said. I almost lost the chance when that arrow hit you and I need to say it now.”
Amelie stood very still. “All right.”
“I know the people of Candor and Draeden are not allies. We’re little better than enemies. But I will do everything in my power to have you released from here. I should not have even hauled you in. I – I’ve come to know you on the way here and I realize whatever happened at Lord Lennox’s manor, whoever you are, you have no malice. You’re of good character.”
He paused and wrinkled his eyebrows as if trying to find the right words. His hand rubbed the back of his neck. He looked back up at her, into her eyes.
“When the arrow hit and you blacked out…the palace was the closest place with the proper care. And now you’re here and I’m going to fix this. I promise, Amelie.”
“So, you are assisting me strictly out of…moral obligation?” Amelie asked shakily.
Prince Seth stepped towards her. “Not strictly.” He was close enough to touch her. “You are a terrible dancer. My toes still hurt from the ball at the manor.” Amelie playfully hit him in the upper arm, but he caught her hand. He didn’t let go and his eyes smoldered the playfulness out of hers. “You’re one hell of a soldier. Better than several of my men put together. You look at things, at people, more closely than most. You try to make sense of something before you act. You try to do what’s good and you’re frustratingly loyal your kingdom. And you spilled some of that loyalty to me and my men. The loyalty is returned, Amelie, tenfold.”
He pressed a hand to her cheek.
“And I care about what happens to you.” He searched her eyes, a wanting seeping into them and pounding Amelie’s nerves blissfully. “I care too much, I think,” he whispered.
Amelie’s breaths quickened. She stood rigid, afraid of melting completely under his touch. The pad of his thumb moved softly over her cheek.
He spoke in a low voice. “I’m going to kiss you now. I have to.”
Amelie nodded slightly. He slowly dipped his head, bringing his lips tentatively to the corner of her mouth. She turned her head slightly towards his lips.
That was all the invitation he needed. He brought up his other hand, cupping her cheek, and pressed his mouth onto hers urgently. She folded her arms around his neck and rose up to meet him. One arm moved down her back and encircled her waist while the other got itself tangled in a fist of her hair. His lips found new places to kiss. Her chin, her temple, the top curve of her ear. Amelie threw her head back and gave him access to her neck.
“Amelie,” he moaned, pulling his face away slightly but not releasing his hold on her waist. He used his free hand to hold her dark hair off her forehead and he grinned at her. “You’re going to make me want to do things that are highly improper.”
“I’m inviting you to do things that are highly improper.”
She kissed him hard and he backed her up until she hit the bedpost, hungrily meeting her lips again and again. As their contact prolonged, she felt the hard shell she used to shield herself from men falling away. The sensations that scared her on their journey felt like second nature now and she no longer coward from them. She no longer wondered from where they originated. She welcomed them. They filled her, warmed her, caused her to press closer to Seth. She knew they pulsed from deep within her; he had reached into her. Beyond her curse, beyond her disdain for men, to warm a part of her soul she had believed to be forever dormant.
With an inward groan, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, breathless. His voice came out in tortured gasps. “I want this to be the right way. I can speak to my father. I’m the second born, I have more freedom than my brother in this matter. If Draeden offered your father land, however much it takes, more than he has now…would he be willing you think? To leave Candor?”
His thoughts were hurried, jumbled and mixed and racing to keep up with his passion.
Amelie’s features pulled into a startled look. Guilt racked her. He needed to know who she was. Her voice hitched in hesitation. “Seth-"
“Don’t.” His eyes flashed with intensity. “I know. I know it seems sudden to you. It’s a lot for you to consider but… I love you.” His hand rubbed her neck and his eyes flashed fiercely. “I’m completely taken. The thought of not being with you, of you riding away from here and never speaking to each other again rips me up inside. I’m not supposed to fall for you but I did and I think you love me too.”
Amelie’s eyes watered as she realized his words were naming her own feelings inside. “Yes.”
The prince’s face dissolved into relief as if he had braced himself for bad news. He grinned. “I took you on the scenic route through Draeden. I will change any forest, any mountain that did not suit you. I know it’s not home-" he bit his lip and paused. “-I spend most of my time away from the palace but leaving the kingdom all together is not an option for me.”
The water in her eyes spilled slightly, slipping down her cheek. “Seth,” she pleaded.
His relief was short. His eyebrows knitted together in concern and he kissed her tears. “Please don’t say anything yet,” he begged. He mistook her sadness for the change he proposed. Amelie shook her head and opened her mouth to set him straight on the situation, but he planted a desperate kiss there, pulled away, and searched her eyes. “I ask that you think about this. We have time, Amelie. Your delegation has not yet arrived?”
“The page indicated four days.”
“So give me those days.” He laced his fingers through hers, smiled at her. “If you turn me down, at least I’ll have those four days to keep. Just promise me that.”
She gave him a watery smile. “Yes. I can give you that at least.”
Chapter 25
Amelie
They agreed not to show a change in behavior in front of another soul. This didn’t stop the prince from
flashing her a secret smile when heads were turned or brushing his leg against hers under the cover of the large oak dining table. During the day they walked the gardens an arms-length apart discussing everything from nature to politics.
“There is a reason that the five kingdoms function as they do,” Prince Seth argued during one of their many heated debates. “Each one touches land, sea, and forest. Each one is self-sustainable. Alliances would cause an imbalance in strength.”
Amelie sighed impatiently. She realized she felt impatient with the prince during many of their conversations. “But without alliances they have become wary of one another. In some kingdoms it is illegal to fraternize with the people of a neighboring kingdom and if it’s not illegal it is certainly frowned upon.”
“The borders need not mix. What for?”
“For trade.”
“We don’t need it, hence self-sustainable. The very few things we do need to trade have their lanes and are well governed.”
“Culture. Relationships among the people.”
They stopped walking and squared off playfully, facing each other. Amelie’s hands rested indignantly on her hips. Prince Seth opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. A small smile played his lips. Amelie pressed on. “Had we a more fluid notion of intermingling among the kingdoms you wouldn’t need to wonder about our funeral customs.”
“Your point is made.”
“Had we more contact, you wouldn’t feel the need to bribe my father with ungodly amounts of land to move to a kingdom he knows nothing of, join a people he’s never met, and live off soil he’s never touched. The spring festival is only one of two events where my people ever even lay eyes on a foreigner and even that is restricted to nobles and farmers.”