by T. S. Ryder
"For as far back as our memories allow, our kings have only had one child. A son." Henry pressed a trembling hand to Rachel's stomach. "But they were always born when the king was only a prince. As soon as the current prince has an heir to replace him with, the old king dies within a year." He rested his forehead against hers. "If you're pregnant with my child, it means my father is going to die."
Rachel gasped. "I had no idea."
"It's worse than that." A lone tear ran down Henry's cheek. "I love my father. But it was prophesized at my birth that I would be the one to kill him."
Rachel wrapped her arms around him. No wonder he had reacted as he had! It was bad enough to know that this baby heralded the end of his father's life, but to know that the man who he loved was going to die by his own hand? She shuddered, imagining what it would be like if it was her and Leila in that situation.
"What do I do? Oh, God, what do I do?" Henry clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder.
Rachel stroked his hair, trying her best to comfort him. She knew there was no comfort, not in this situation, but she was desperate to find a way to give him a measure of peace nonetheless. If only her visions were more controllable, less vague, she would be able to peer into the future and see exactly what the circumstances of the current king's death would be.
She had tried in the past to gain control of her visions. Sometimes she almost thought she had it. But in the end it had only ever made her sick, sometimes so badly that it put her in the hospital, and she had never been able to catch more than confusing glimpses in her waking state.
"These things are confusing," she said. "Sometimes visions don't happen exactly how they are seen. Sometimes they are more metaphorical than anything else. Perhaps the prophecy doesn't mean what you have always been led to believe, Henry. And even if it was seen that you would kill your father, the future isn't set in stone. It can change. Maybe it has changed."
Henry's arms tightened around her.
"And as for the baby… do you… do you want me to terminate the pregnancy?" The words were like claws of iron ripping from her throat. She had so longed for this child. But what if this was why she had never remembered feeling it move inside her when she had her visions? Was this as far as it was going to go?
"I don't know." Henry's voice was dull and lifeless. "We need to tell my father. He'll know what to do."
Rachel nodded. "Whatever happens… I love you."
Henry stroked her face and brushed a kiss on her lips. "I love you, too."
Chapter Four
Henry did not sleep that night. Instead, he paced his chambers, listening to the soft heartbeats of his brides–and Leila–as they slept. He knew each one intimately and paused outside Cheri's door. She had been with him so long now, and her heartbeat wasn't as strong as it once was. It wouldn't be long before he lost her.
Tears filled his eyes, thinking of no longer having her counsel to help him when he needed her. It always hurt when one of his brides passed on. But the ache was eased knowing he had Rachel. The thought of one day losing her, though…
That won't be for years, he comforted himself. She's young and strong. With the proper care, she'll be with me for another century at least.
But thinking of her made him think of the child she carried and the fact that it meant his father would be gone within the year. Henry flinched, then sucked in a deep breath. Rachel had been so happy when she told him, so beautiful. The sparkling of her eyes and the curve of her smile had set his heart with its barely-existent beat skipping for joy.
He'd never felt this way for one of his brides before. He hadn't even thought of approaching Becky to see if she would be willing to share his bed. All he wanted was Rachel.
With a sigh, Henry retrieved the waistcoat he had discarded hours ago and straightened his appearance. He needed to inform his father about the situation. He didn't know how the king would react, and only hoped that he would have a solution that didn't include ending the pregnancy since Rachel clearly already loved the child. Perhaps there was another way out of this. If Henry went into self-exile, would he still be the prince? Would the curse on their bloodline hold?
Henry found his father in the hot springs with a group of his brides. The prince didn't know if they were naked, their bodies hidden by the steaming water and the red lights that vampires couldn't see clearly in for some reason. Still, he kept his gaze on his shoes as a sign of respect, and to avoid seeing something he shouldn't.
"Father, I need to speak with you."
"Regretting taking the two witches for your brides?" His father chuckled. "We can put them into training and you can have your pick of the leftovers. There're only slim pickings, now that the elite has chosen their brides, but—"
"No, thank you," Henry said, hands clenching at the thought of Rachel and Leila in 'training', wearing shock collars and being conditioned through fear and pain to be obedient to vampire wishes. It was another barbaric tradition he longed to be rid of. "It's another matter."
"Then it can wait."
"No, it can't. It's a matter of life and death."
After a moment of silence, the king groaned. "Go and wait in the antechamber."
Henry gladly obeyed the order, moving to the cooler, dryer chamber. It was lit with green, a gentle color, and he allowed himself to relax in its light for a moment. His father soon joined him, wearing a silk robe and an impatient expression.
"Well?"
"One of my brides is with a child."
Henry faced his father with straight shoulders. The king's already too-pale complexion paled further, and he swallowed hard.
"Which one?"
"Does it matter?" Henry didn't know why he didn't want to say Rachel's name. But he didn't. "I know the prophecies, but perhaps there is a way to circumvent fate. If I was allowed to leave the kingdom with my brides—"
"No." His father's eyes hardened. "How do you know she is pregnant? The old one is too old, and you have only had these new ones for a few weeks."
"She's pregnant. I know she is."
The king's eyes narrowed for a moment, then he nodded slowly. "I have no doubt you believe that. But before we make any sort of judgment, I need to know for certain. Bring this bride to my study. I will bring Debbie and she will tell us whether it is true or not."
Henry bowed. Debbie was the most powerful witch among his father's brides and served him well over the years. She loved him, which meant that training had been unnecessary. The prince couldn't help but think that was why her magic was more powerful than the others.
His mind turned back to Rachel as he returned to his chambers to retrieve her. Would Debbie see that she was a Seer? Was she that powerful? What would his father do if he knew?
Why haven't I told him yet?
When he woke Rachel, she was so tired that he carried her to his father's study. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment. Henry kissed her forehead, trying to quell his nervousness. He and his father were close, but not close enough that he could know what the king was thinking.
Debbie and his father were already waiting for them when they arrived at the study. Rachel was much more awake by this time and clutched Henry's hand when he put her down and the king surveyed her.
"Come here," he ordered, his gaze boring into hers.
Rachel swallowed hard then stepped forward. Her hand never left Henry's, something his father noticed. A frown was directed at his son, then he nodded at Debbie. The witch placed a hand on Rachel's stomach. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she whispered a few strange words.
Almost at once she pulled back, gaze going to the king. "She is with child."
Henry couldn't breathe for a moment. Even though he already knew it was true, having been convinced by how confident Rachel was, hearing Debbie confirm it… He swallowed hard, looking at his father. Was there any way to stop fate from cruelly taking him away? What circumstances could possibly make Henry take his father's life himself?
His father was the first one to move. He strode forward, ignoring both Debbie and Rachel, and embraced his son. Henry couldn’t remember the last time his father had hugged him and gratefully returned the embrace, feeling like a little child again.
"What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice breaking. "I don't want this to happen–I'm not ready for you to go."
"Take my son's bride back to his chambers, Debbie."
The older witch put an arm around the younger one and guided her from the room. Henry met Rachel's eyes before they left, and he managed to give her a smile. They would figure this out somehow. There had to be a solution that wouldn't alienate Rachel from him.
"If I leave the kingdom, then perhaps…" Henry trailed off as his father shook his head.
"Even if you leave, the child being born heralds the end of my life. I am not ready to die yet, Henry."
Henry made himself stand straighter. Yes, the situation was not one he wanted, but he had to be strong. He was a prince, after all, his father's son, and he was not going to turn away from facing the truth.
"There is only one way to prevent this." His father gripped his shoulder. "The bride who carries your child must die."
Henry's eyes widened. His heart stopped, then thudded painfully. He yanked himself from his father's grasp. He could not be serious. Terminate the pregnancy, maybe. Wear those human rubber barriers to prevent her from getting with child again, yes. But kill her? No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. For the first time in his hundreds of years of existence, he knew what love truly was. He couldn't lose it now.
He was only aware that he was shaking his head when his father grabbed both his shoulders and shook him.
"Do you think that I take any pleasure in this, Henry? I can see the way you look at the girl. The way your face lights up when she's near. I know what it is like, that love that feels like you'll never be able to taste anything so lovely, so fulfilling. But you will find another bride that you love as much as this one, Henry. Do you think your mother was the first woman I loved?"
Henry swallowed hard.
"I hate to ask this of you. But it will be easier if you do it yourself. Trust me on this."
Even though he was always cold, a feeling of ice crept into Henry's chest as he realized what his father was saying. "I was not the first child that you fathered."
His father's shoulders slumped. "No. Before my father was ready to die, twenty of my brides got with child."
"And you killed them all." He could hardly choke the words out.
"I did what I had to. I loved them all. Don't think it was easy for me to end them."
"But can't I just end the pregnancy? Why does Rachel have to die?"
His father flinched and turned away. "Henry, I know I should have talked to you about this before now. But it's impossible to end the pregnancy without killing your bride. I tried, but it only ends up being a slow, painful death for the woman. Explain what is happening to your bride. Let her cry. But it must be done."
"Father—"
"It must be done," his father repeated, voice hardening. "You have a day, Henry. One last day with this bride. And then she dies. If you will not put her to sleep, then I will."
Henry didn't know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. His limbs felt heavy as he bowed to his father and took his leave. Kill Rachel or watch his father die. How could he choose between the two people he loved most?
Chapter Five
Rachel shuddered, fearing the worst for their baby when Henry returned with a hanging head and hunched shoulders. She was sitting in the main room, Cheri and Becky on either side of her, Leila pacing from one end of the room to the other. The encounter with the vampire king had left Rachel shaken, and seeing the despondent way Henry was holding himself only increased her anxiety.
"What did he say?" she asked, her voice flat.
Leila had stopped her pacing when Henry came in and was standing to just one side of the couch. Henry dragged a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair. His blue-grey eyes locked with hers and for a moment she couldn't breathe. There was so much pain in his gaze. It was like a physical blow.
Pulling herself away from the comfort of Cheri and Becky, Rachel went to her vampire, putting her hands on his chest. "Henry, tell me."
He pulled her into his arms, his head resting against her forehead. Tears clung to his lashes. "He wants me to kill you."
Before she could even process what he had said, Rachel felt herself being ripped from Henry's arms. She fell heavily, a jolt of pain running up her arm as her elbow hit the floor. Leila stood over her, hands glowing with black flames as she lashed out a Henry. He raised his arms to defend himself, but the magic grabbed him and hurled him across the room.
"Stop!" Cheri cried, struggling to get to her feet.
"Leila, no," Rachel gasped, as Becky knelt beside her. "Leila!"
Henry stayed where he was, crumpled on the floor. His expression was utterly calm as he gazed at Leila, so unlike the tortured expression he had had just moments before. Leila's face contorted as her magic built around her.
"You are defending your sister," Henry said. "And I'm not angry about that. But I will not harm Rachel. I will allow no harm to come to her. I will die before I let my father kill her."
Leila trembled a moment, her teeth bared, but after a moment the magic around her faded. She clenched her fists and strode to the opposite side of the room, where she punched the wall hard. Rachel groaned as Becky helped her back to the couch.
"What are we going to do?" Becky asked, arms around Rachel's waist. "Why does he want you to kill Rachel? Just because she's pregnant?"
"He's not ready to die," Henry said. He got to his feet and came to the couch, kneeling before Rachel. He captured her hands in his. She was so cold that he felt warm. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Cheri moaned, her hand on her chest, and Henry's gaze went to her. He quickly caught her when she slumped, his eyes widening. The old woman looked paler than normal, but she smiled at her prince and assured him that she was fine. Rachel's heart pounded, but she squeezed Cheri's hand lightly, pushing aside her worries for herself to make sure the older woman was okay.
"What happened?"
"I'm not that young," Cheri said. "And I'm afraid my heart isn't as strong as it used to be. Not that I ever had a particularly strong heart."
Leila returned to join them. She clapped a hand on Henry's shoulder, causing Rachel to raise her brows. Her little sister hadn't touched Henry since they arrived. She went out of her way to avoid accidently brushing against him. Was she putting herself in a position where it would be easier to use her magic on him, or actually offering comfort?
"What have your visions said about this?" she asked, eyes on Rachel.
"I haven't seen any of this," she admitted. "And I haven't had any dreams since we arrived."
"What does that mean?" Becky's eyes were wide.
"I don't know."
Henry released Cheri and held Rachel. Leila took a step back. The Seer felt better in his arms and leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes with a sigh. If she could only stay here forever… then maybe she would know what to do now. She couldn't help but shiver at the implications of what Henry had said, that he wouldn't let his father harm her. If the king was determined to see her dead, how could Henry stop him?
And what if the reason she couldn't see the future was because she no longer had one?
"Does the blood of a witch smell different to the blood of a non-witch?" Cheri asked.
She sounded a little breathless, but the color was starting to return to her cheeks. Rachel wished she knew more healing spells, but what little training she had was hardly enough to take the sting from scrapes, let alone an
ything else. Leila was good at fighting spells, but healing wasn't one of her strong suits. Self-healing, yes, but it was far different to heal oneself than another person.
"Does your blood smell the same?" Henry's brow furrowed, still holding Rachel as he turned confused eyes to Cheri. "Why do you ask?"
Cheri sighed. She trailed wrinkled fingers along Henry's cheek. Rachel wondered if she should be jealous of the obvious intimacy between the two of them. From her visions, she had never thought she would have to share Henry's affections, but she didn't mind–at least, not with Cheri. There was intimacy, yes, but it was the intimacy of shared memories. It was something that she hoped to have with him one day, which would take the time to develop.
If it was Becky stroking Henry's face, would she feel differently? She stole a glance at the redhead. She was a beautiful woman, slender next to Rachel's thickness, with graceful features and kind eyes.
No. She wouldn't be jealous of Becky and Henry. It was odd, but Rachel found she really didn't mind the idea of sharing, especially now, when it was so likely she was going to die. She wanted to make sure there was somebody here to take care of Henry if that happened.
"Cheri, I ask you again, why do you want to know if your blood smells like witch's blood?" There was a note of panic to Henry’s voice that told Rachel he had already guessed, but she still didn't have a clue as to why Cheri was asking.
"It's clear you can't stay here," the old woman said calmly. "I'm old, I can't go with you. If you took my heart—"
"No."
"—and gave it to your father as proof of Rachel's death—"
"No!"
"Then it would give you time to leave."
"No!" Henry jumped to his feet, his head shaking. "No, that is unacceptable. I won't kill any of my brides, I won't do that. I love you, Cheri. How can you think that I would accept your death?"
Rachel's blood ran cold at the idea. She didn't want anybody to die for her! She opened her mouth to say so, but Cheri spoke over her, shaking her head at Henry.