The Rejected Princess

by Clark, Katie;

  King Dawson scoffed. “My patrol never interferes. If your landowners fear it is their own conscience.”

  “It is my condition.” King Hamilton didn’t flinch. “Roanna has agreed to the terms of the marriage, but she would also agree if I advised her against the agreement.”

  Roanna had agreed to the marriage? He’d told her to wait. King Hamilton must not have given her any choice at all.

  On screen, King Dawson’s nostrils flared at King Hamilton’s threat. Off screen, Ben’s stomach churned. How could King Hamilton give Roanna to this family?

  “Think of the reign of peace,” Mother said from the table. She spoke to the men on the screen. “Telling your guards to stand down by patrolling only a few miles further inland will not hurt anything, but it will help much. Let it be said of our generation that we are finally the monarchs to bring peace to our once broken nations.”

  Her softly spoken words seemed to resonate with King Dawson. “Our peace is not complete with only the marriage between Roland and your daughter, King Hamilton,” Dawson said. “The peace of our three nations will not be complete until the marriage agreement has been fulfilled with Prince Benjamin of Lox as well, as he so eloquently reminded us a moment ago.”

  Ben didn’t react. Unless King Dawson had a secret daughter he’d kept hidden away, he wasn’t worried.

  Father cleared his throat and spoke to the screen. “We have upheld our end of the bargain. Benjamin remains unmarried.”

  “I am losing hope of a female offspring,” King Dawson said with a sigh. “I have been considering other options.”

  Father and Mother shared a look, but it told Ben nothing of what they were thinking. “Go on,” Mother said.

  “We have noble daughters in this country. Young women trained in the way of royalty and gentility, charity, and religion. Would one of them not suffice as the future Queen of Lox?”

  “Our agreement was for a princess of Dawson’s Edge, not a noble daughter.” Mother straightened in her seat. Queenly.

  Ben waited with his jaw tight. King Dawson meant to marry him off to someone other than his own bloodline?

  “The marriage would achieve the same end,” King Dawson said. “Peace. And do we not want to be the generation that can boast peace at last?” He waved his hand and a smile spoke more of his mockery than his words.

  Anger spread through Ben, but Mother and Father remained calm.

  “It is something we will need to consider,” Mother said. “For today, we are here to witness the treaty between Dawson’s Edge and Chester’s Wake. That is all.”

  King Dawson smiled. “Very well. I will accept your terms, King George Hamilton. My border patrol will stand down, and you will send your daughter home with Roland.”

  King Hamilton’s face turned red. “I will not send my daughter home with him. We will prepare the proper festivities for the engagement. We will meet at Edge River to sign the treaty. Then and only then will we move forward with the wedding.”

  King Dawson rolled his eyes. “So be it. We will set up a meeting for next week.”

  “That is acceptable to Chester’s Wake,” King Hamilton said.

  Mother smiled. “Excellent. I will attend to witness the treaty.”

  Mother and Father would attend, but definitely not Ben.

  He waited for the screens to go black before standing and storming from the room.

  “Benjamin, wait!” Father’s voice boomed.

  Ben kept moving.

  Father charged after him and grabbed his shoulder. “You will not storm away from me in this manner. Return to the conference room.”

  Ben ground his teeth, but he obeyed. Father led the way, and once Ben was inside, Father shut the door and leaned close to Ben’s face. “What did you hope to accomplish by barging in here like that?”

  “I wanted to hear with my own ears the terms of the peace treaty.”

  “To what end?” Father spoke the words slowly.

  Ben ground his teeth, his nostrils stretching. What could he say that wouldn’t leave him looking like a weak fool?

  He glanced at Mother. She stood erect, her shoulders straight. But her eyes were soft. Ben swallowed his pride. “I wanted to hear for myself that she was to be married.” He looked away, his throat suddenly tight. “I needed to hear it for myself.” Shame and embarrassment spread through him. He always knew it would end this way. As Father had asked, what did he expect to accomplish?

  Father did not back down. “You will abide by the terms of this peace treaty. And if we choose a bride for you who is born of the Dawson’s Edge nobility, you will abide by this as well.”

  Ben became stone. He nodded once, his features tight. “Yes, sir.” He waited a moment. “May I be dismissed now?”

  14

  Father watched him as they faced off in the conference room. Studied him. Sized him up. Finally, he nodded.

  Ben bolted from the room without another thought. He half-expected Mother to call after him, but she didn’t. Ben strode from the palace, past the gardens, and toward the garage. It was huge, housing over one hundred automatic vehicles.

  He shoved through the glass door, and Victor, the mechanic, stopped him. “Your Highness, what brings you to visit so soon? I thought you were in Chester’s Wake.”

  Ben took a deep breath. He wouldn’t do anyone any good by biting off Victor’s head. “Father thought it was time to come home early. I would like to take out the Black Widow.”

  Victor’s eyebrows rose. “Fast bike! Looking to blow off some steam?”

  Ben stared at him.

  Victor nodded. “You got it. Follow me.”

  Ben moved after the mechanic through the garage. Victor could fix any problem in any auto at any time. He had served Father well, and someday either he or his apprentice would serve Ben well.

  With a Daswsonian woman at his side.

  The reminder was like rotten meat in his gut. Why had it never repulsed him so much before? Maybe he had been living in a dream world. It hadn’t felt real until this week. Until this day.

  He had seen the way Roland Dawson looked at Roanna. From the moment Roland’s entourage had arrived, he knew. He’d worked tirelessly to keep Roanna away from the man—sneaking her off to take walks around the palace in the warm summer rain, hiding with her in the library, debating bringing up the doctor in the dungeon. None of it had deterred the ambassador, and why should it? Roanna would improve his social standing—he was so far down the list of relatives to inherit the crown of Dawson’s Edge that it was laughable. And besides, she was beautiful. Radiantly, blindingly, beautiful, inside and out.

  “Prince?”

  Ben focused on Victor, who stood two feet away holding out a set of keys. “Thank you, Victor.” He took the keys and climbed onto the motorcycle.

  “Enjoy the ride, Your Highness, and come back in one piece, or the queen will have my hide.”

  Ben gave him a tight smile and started the Black Widow with a roar. This bike was fast. So fast he might make it back to Chester’s Wake in a few hours. Father would throttle him if he did. Mother would fume and fuss. King Hamilton would string him up, and war would likely start—at least, a war against him.

  But Roanna would be happy to see him.

  He positioned his goggles over his eyes, secured his helmet strap under his chin, gripped the handlebars, and pulled from the garage. The engine purred under his coaxing. He sailed through the palace gates and headed toward the flatlands at the western edge of their kingdom.

  So, he wasn’t going to Chester’s Wake after all.

  Ben pressed forward. He drove so fast his shoulders ached with the force. He drove until the gas gauge inched toward empty. Well after dark he returned to the garage. Victor met him again. “I thought you’d driven off the edge of the world.”

  Ben shook his head. “No, only until I’d come back from it.”

  Victor gave him a quizzical look, but Ben didn’t expound. His stomach growled, and he headed back for the p
alace. He was famished. He hadn’t eaten since supper last night in Chester’s Wake. He raided the kitchen and headed to his room. Hansen was there waiting, ever faithful.

  “You can go on to bed, Hansen,” Ben said. He slipped off his shoes and sank into a chair in his sitting room. “I’ll dress myself for bed.”

  Hansen bowed. “Very well, sir. Your father has requested you join him at eight o’clock sharp in the morning. You are to work with him for the day.”

  “Thank you.” Hansen left, and Ben bit into his sandwich. Work with Father. That could mean anything. More training? A diplomatic mission? A good will visit?

  The slender brass messenger on his desk caught his eye. The bulbous light in the upper right hand corner blinked slowly.

  Frowning, he moved to it and touched the light. The small screen glowed to life.

  One message

  The message loaded from Prince Gregory, and Ben’s eyes widened in surprise, and not even bothering to sit in the chair, he read the missive.

  We hope your flight home went well. Chester’s Wake misses you already; however, we understand the importance of the issue calling you away. Rest assured that we look forward to the next meeting of our peaceful kingdoms.

  Sincerely

  The Prince of Chester’s Wake

  Gregory had never contacted him like this before. They’d always gotten along, but had never been close friends. Roanna had been the one to capture his friendship as a child, her bright smile and contagious laugh, her adventurous spirit and fierce loyalty. She had found a way to send him a message, and he loved her all the more for it.

  He considered whether to reply. After devouring his late supper, he stripped and tossed the dirty clothes into the basket, moved to the seat at his desk, and stared at the message.

  “Type.” The cursor blinked to life, and he spoke what should be transmitted.

  “The flight was uneventful. I was happy to be allowed to sit in on the peace treaty between your country and our mutual neighbor, Dawson’s Edge. I, too, look forward to the next visit between our countries. Until then, Prince Benjamin of Lox.”

  He couldn’t hint at the marriage agreement. Couldn’t cause a ripple. At least, not yet. Tomorrow he would work with Father. He would go along with this plan at marrying both himself and Roanna into the Dawsonian line.

  But he would also work toward unravelling the mystery behind Dr. Presnell attending to Roanna’s birth. The pieces did not fit smoothly together, and until he could put his curiosity to rest, he would not give up.

  15

  Father sat behind his desk, pen poised over paper. He looked up when Ben entered.

  “Hansen said I was to meet you here.”

  Father resumed his writing, but a moment later, he put his pen away and stood. “You’re going with me on a condolence mission today.”

  “A condolence mission? Who will we see?”

  Father pressed a button, and a voice came through the intercom.

  “The auto is waiting, Your Highness,” the secretary announced.

  Father nodded.

  Ben led them from the office and onto the white marble floor of the bright, state room lobby. They walked silently to the exit, and a driver met them. Once they were seated and the auto in motion, Ben repeated his question. “Who died, Father?”

  Father’s eyes were sorrowful and understanding. “You need to see what war looks like, Benjamin. Your mother and I worry that you have been very sheltered from it. Even in Chester’s Wake they live in relative peace, though it is worse along their borders. But wars and rumors of war hurt people. Not figments, but real people with real families.”

  Ben didn’t understand what Father was getting at. He wasn’t a boy anymore. Of course, war was real and it hurt real people. This wasn’t a revelation to him.

  They drove for two hours. Father spent most of the time with his head bent over a portable screen. A royal’s job was never done. It was one of Mother’s favorite quips.

  Before long Ben would be working as diligently as Mother and Father. If he was to be married soon, he would be expected to pull his fair share. And let the work come. Ben loved Lox. He wanted to see her prosper. Wanted to help keep her peaceful. Peace was the Loxian way, as Mother always reminded him. He only wished Mother would consider that there might be better ways to do it—better ways than marrying one’s children off to other kingdoms.

  Roanna would say better ways than practicing Termination. Lox and Chester’s Wake engaged in the practice for multiple reasons—it cut down on medical costs within the kingdom, it helped control population numbers, but most of all because it saved citizens from unnecessary pain and suffering. This was what they told the people. Roanna disagreed strongly, and while Ben hadn’t settled his beliefs on the matter he was inclined to follow her thoughts on the subject. He’d seen the Rejected. They were worthwhile people, though it was true that some of their anomalies could be frightening.

  His thoughts were interrupted as they they pulled up to a small border military base, only miles from Dawson’s Edge.

  The driver opened the door.

  Father led them into the base.

  A military general greeted them. He was dressed in a dark green uniform with brass buttons and golden lining. An eye—the Loxian symbol—was embroidered on the right shoulder.

  “Right this way, Your Highness.” The general led them through a string of dark hallways before finally pausing outside a white metal door marked Morgue. “It isn’t pretty. I warn you.”

  Ben’s gut clenched.

  Father nodded. “We will see the soldiers.”

  Ben rolled his tense neck, not looking forward to checking over dead bodies.

  Three black bags lay on three separate tables. The general unsnapped the first bag. The soldier was a man at least twice Ben’s age. His hair was dark, almost black, but his skin was now a sickly blue color. Part of his face was missing, and the gaping wounds stared up at him.

  “Tell us how it happened,” Father demanded.

  The general’s chin lifted slightly. “They were ambushed, Your Grace. Dawsonian patrols mistook them for Chester’s Wake soldiers. Attacked and killed. Once they got closer and saw their error, they ran.”

  “Why are they attacking Chester’s Wake?” Ben asked. They had agreed to the peace treaty the morning before, and had been in the midst of negotiations during Roland’s visit to Chester’s Wake.

  “Some would say Dawsonians do not trust King George Hamilton,” the general said. “Personally, I believe King Dawson wants an empire.”

  “That will be enough,” Father said. “Show us the others.”

  Ben didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe they were much nearer to the brink of war than he had realized.

  They left the morgue, and went to where tent housing had been set up for soldiers and their families. They would be visiting the soldiers’ families. This would not be easy.

  The green-clad military personnel bowed to them as they walked through the base.

  Father nodded to each of them respectfully, and Ben followed his example.

  The first tent they entered was a small but well organized home. A clothesline had been strung out front, and inside, a woman huddled on a pallet with a baby. Tears stained her face. Her eyes widened when she recognized Father. With the baby clutched to her chest, she moved to her knees.

  “No, please,” Father knelt in front of her. “I should show reverence to you.” Tears pooled in his eyes as he took the woman’s elbows in his hands. “I am truly sorry for your loss, but I respect your sacrifice more than you can ever know.”

  The woman hiccupped on a sob, but she managed a nod.

  This was the father Ben knew. The fair man. The respectful and kind leader. It had been disrespectful for Ben to defy him.

  The next two visits were no easier.

  Ben spoke when the situation dictated, and he made sure to follow Father’s example of comfort and respect for the widows and their families.


  After three hours on base, they returned to the vehicle to ride back to the palace.

  Father turned to him. His eyes were red rimmed from the honest tears he had wept. “Now do you see how necessary it is that we don’t go to war?”

  Ben’s stomach knotted. “Yes, Father.” Could he do that to his own subjects? Cause them harm and heartache because he wanted Roanna for himself?

  No. This was the way of their world, and he would accept and respect it. He swallowed down his words. “I understand, Father,” he said more forcefully. “I intend to keep up my end of the agreement.”

  Father nodded slowly, his shoulders slumped. “I knew you would say that, once you had seen.” He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “You will make a fine king, and you will reign in peace.”

  16

  Benjamin took supper in his room that night. The widows they’d met that day were alone now, struggling because of a conflict between neighboring countries. How would they buy food for their children? Where would they live when they left the military base?

  He twirled his silver fork between his fingers, considering. Why was there so much animosity between Dawson’s Edge and Chester’s Wake? There had always been tension because of the split Dawson’s Edge made from Chester’s Wake, but that had been two hundred years ago. With the marriage agreement for Roanna and Roland Dawson going forward, he had believed there was little chance of war on the horizon. There should have been no attacks taking place.

  Unless Dawson’s Edge was planning a secret attack, he couldn’t see a reason for the duplicity.

  Ben pushed his plate aside and moved to his desk. He unlocked the door where he’d stored the file from the Chester’s Wake’s dungeon. He wanted to read it again with fresh eyes.

  Dr. Presnell had been visiting Chester’s Wake and was a guest in their home when Queen Hamilton went into labor. He’d helped attend the birth, told the queen she’d had a girl, and that the girl’s hair must be cut short. Dr. Presnell repeated it several times, and the queen grew so agitated that Dr. Presnell was locked away for a month, an extreme punishment for what seemed to be innocuous advice.