At least, that’s what I thought at first. That he wanted to prove some bizarre point about me not being the only one wronged. I approached the bench, a pulse beating in my throat as I watched Nathanial unwrap the face of one of my men. I knew one of the three must be Gavin, but the other two? Benjamin? James? Please God, not David.
I frowned, confused, as the weathered, bearded face of Jarvis was revealed. How? Jarvis had been up on the mountain. Then Nathanial unfolded another strip of linen and I saw the jagged line drawn across his neck.
“His throat was slit,” I gasped, my voice thick with accusation. “Is this how much your word is worth these days? You promised me no more blood would be spilled if I called my people down from the mountain.”
“Jarvis and Lennard were not your people,” Nathanial said as he moved onto unwrapping the second man. Lennard, his shock of white hair stained with blood, the same distinct gash across his jugular. “They answered to no one but themselves.”
“And that was reason enough to execute them in the dead of the night? Under the guise of surrender?”
“Now is not the best time for a public execution. There are no shades of treason and I don’t want questions to arise of why I hanged two and not all the rest of you. So I dealt with it quietly and efficiently.”
Sorrow and rage blazed inside me. “It’s true then, you have blue blood flowing through your veins and it’s as cold as a winter river.”
“I do what must be done.” Nathanial stood back, crossed his arms over his chest, hooked my furious glare with his own hard, cool stare. “Did you know?”
“Did I know what?”
“One of their trusted spies was my double agent,” Nathanial said. “He recently exposed an assassination plot against me. It was meant to look like an accident, a tumble on my horse if I recall correctly,” he continued in that unaffected tone, as if we were discussing the weather instead of his untimely demise. “So I’ll ask again, did you know?”
The automatic denial choked in my throat. Had I known? Not that the plot had been set in motion, or the details, but I’d certainly suspected Jarvis and Lennard were brewing something. That was not the question that choked my protest of innocence, though. If I had known, would I have stopped them?
“Your silence speaks a thousand words,” Nathanial said.
I met that with a silent stare, wished my silence pricked him with a thousand daggers.
A grim smile flattened his mouth. “Good, now you get it.”
And I did get it. This was why Nathanial had brought us here, to show me exactly what kind of man he was. To solidify the weight of all those threats he’d hung over my head. My gaze lowered, came to a rest on the wrapped body of Gavin.
“I do not hesitate to act swiftly and ruthlessly when my kingdom is at stake,” Nathanial said, “but I am not without honour. Gavin died of his battle wounds.”
On that note, he walked out, leaving me to drop to my knees before Gavin.
I unravelled a length of the linen with feather-light, reluctant fingers, only enough to identify him, to press my lips to his forehead, to murmur against his ice-cold skin, “Farwell, my friend, you live on in our memories and hearts.”
For long minutes after I’d covered him again, I stayed there on my knees, trying to reconcile myself with the way forward. Father, what would you do? I closed my eyes, stilled my breaths, cleared my head for the whispered teachings of wisdom that had been practically hardwired to my subconscious.
But my father had no answers for me this time. He would never have surrendered the mountain. He would never have allowed himself to become a pawn in the King’s games, no matter the cost of life. He’d fled the castle and vowed never to return. I’d brought our people back and come dusk, my vows would bind us to the heart of the kingdom once again. Had I failed my father or had I saved my people?
I sucked in a deep breath, opened my eyes to the death surrounding me. No matter how far our paths had diverged, I was still the daughter my father had raised. I was the High Chancellor. I knew where my responsibility and duty lay, and I clearly hadn’t done a good enough job of fulfilling either.
That would have to change.
You cannot keep doing everything the same and expect the outcome to change. My father hadn’t completely abandoned me after all.
I could keep my hate for Nathanial high, so high it blinded me. I could keep resenting his tactics and despise his secret ambitions. And Nathanial would keep winning.
I’d thought to rise from the ashes of this royal marriage, turn it into my weapon, but that was just me keeping everything the same. My hate high. My resentment boiling. Leaving myself wide open and the circle spinning for Nathanial to tramp me beneath his heel.
I had to do better.
Somehow turn all that fire and hate into cool disdain.
Embrace this marriage that defied the laws of our land and joined the bloodline of the King and High Chancellor.
Accept this future and make my bed—quite literally—with the enemy, with my father’s murderer.
And somehow, through all that, remain true to myself and purpose.
I wasn’t sure if any or all of that were possible, but I had to try. I had to own tomorrow instead of fighting it, or I’d always be that step behind Nathanial, reacting to his dictatorial rather than taking charge of my life.
- 8 -
The King’s Guard had followed at a discreet distance, but now the five men gathered close to Nathanial just inside the doors. Apparently my unarmed, subdued rebels were not to be trusted in the presence of the King. When Nathanial had said my men were being held in the barracks, he’d actually meant one of the stables. The musty odour of hay and stale horse sweat filled my nostrils as I strode deeper inside, my gaze picking out Lilliana perched atop a bale, the grey-whiskered stable keeper emerging from a stall, the young brothers James and Patrick MacGreggor…and Markus, cutting a direct line for me across the barn with a grim scowl.
The shadows crawled as the rest of my men stirred and I put up a hand to stay them so I could pull Markus aside for a private talk. We took a long moment to assess each other. He didn’t need to ask if I’d been treated well. I was freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes. I didn’t need to ask how he’d been faring. He looked like a man who’d spent the night pacing and running his hands through his dishevelled hair.
“Gavin is dead,” I finally spoke in a low voice.
He gave a slow nod, his eyes strained at the edges. “Lilliana told us you had to fight the King’s men at the river.”
“Gavin succumbed to his wounds,” I said. “Liam, Benjamin and James are in the infirmary and expected to recover. David?”
“He’s not here.”
“He escaped into the forest during the battle,” I informed him. “He must still be out there.”
“Good,” Markus declared.
A moot point now. We’d have to send a search party out to return him.
“And…” I rubbed at my temples, searching for words to diffuse the expected tension. There were none. “Jarvis and Lennard were executed for treason.”
Markus stiffened.
I touched a hand to his arm, firmed my tone, “It is done.”
He sent Nathanial a narrowed look drenched in animosity. “But not forgiven, and never forgotten.”
“Markus, look at me,” I commanded. He waited a lengthy beat before obeying, a deliberate challenge I chose to ignore. “Their plans were more concrete than I imagined. Nathanial uncovered the assassination plot and took decisive action. I don’t condone his methods or timings, but it wasn’t a random act of vengeance. Do you understand?”
His mouth flattened as he thought it through, then shook his head. “What are you saying?”
“We are no longer on our mountain,” I said. “Down here we are citizens of the Silver Valley, subjects of the King and bound by the laws of treachery and treason. If you take up arms or plot, you will die for it. Beyond that, I believe Nathanial will trea
t us fairly.”
The look in his eyes darkened. “I don’t know what he’s been whispering in your ear, Rose, but you can’t trust the man.”
“I have power within my own right,” I reminded him. “The time has come to reclaim it.”
“And how do you intend to do that?”
I smiled thinly. “You’ll have to hear the whole speech to appreciate it,” I said and walked around him to address my men.
“You’ve prepared a speech?” Markus muttered at my back.
Wouldn’t that be nice. Usually I’d speak easily, words of conviction and commitment flowing from my heart. Today, however, my heart was plagued with doubts I dared not let them see. I had to convince them to be better, higher beings than I feared I could ever be. And there was no pre-approved, carefully prepared speech to help me along.
I clasped my hands before me, my gaze sliding from one earnest, weary face to the next. Lilliana remained seated on her bale of hay, knees tucked in beneath her chin. Some men leant against stall doors or bales of hay, others stood closer. We were accustomed to informal gatherings. Bowing and scraping hadn’t been my father’s way and it wasn’t mine. But I had their respect, their absolute trust, and all eyes and ears were tuned to me.
“Ten years ago, this kingdom was divided,” I began. “You stayed true to your High Chancellor, fled with my father to the mountain, and you’ve stayed true to me. Others stayed true to their King. Both were honourable choices.”
I looked from Ewan to Henry to Jacob, to Jimmy McBride, a man well into his forties who wore a habitual cheeky grin and always carried his sword close like an old friend. Today he was without either. Lilliana, with her fiery curls and sure aim. Markus, so steadfast and loyal and level-headed. The painfully missed held their own presence, Gavin and Lennard and Jarvis.
My next words were for these people, the present and the gone, for their past and future and all the in between. I had to make them believe. And if I couldn’t yet believe for myself, a part of me surely wished I could—perhaps that was enough to put heart into my message.
“The breach of trust between the old King and my father divided us, cost precious lives,” I went on. “They are no longer with us and the time has come to bring in a new era. King Nathanial and I have made another choice, to set aside past grievances and unite our people.”
My pause for breath was met by a rising sea of disgruntled murmurs. Forgiveness did not come naturally once blood had been spilled.
I raised a hand to quieten the mutterings. “This is not meant to be easy, nothing worthwhile ever is. We are aware of the difficulties—the impossibilities—of what we’re asking, but we are staking our heritages on it. At dusk, the King and I are to be wed. The bloodlines of the King and High Chancellor will never again tear this valley in half. As your Queen and High Chancellor, I will ensure your voices are heard and there will be a just, fair place here for you and your families.”
That was about as long as Markus lasted before he hissed at my shoulder, “You’ve lost your bloody mind.”
I shifted to look at him, to lean in slightly so only he heard, “My options are severely limited, Markus. This is how we survive.”
His expression blackened. “You’re offering yourself up like a damn sacrificial lamb.”
“I didn’t offer and Nathanial didn’t ask,” I informed him bluntly. “He’s determined to have this union.”
“I should have married you when I had the chance!”
“A husband would have been an obstacle to be gotten rid of, not a deterrent,” I said, thinking of how effortlessly Nathanial had dispatched my father. “I haven’t simply resigned myself to the inevitable and I am no lamb. What Nathanial has put in motion is far greater than his selfish motivations. You will be out of this stable before dusk to attend the ceremony and festivities. Tomorrow, we’ll initiate the integration process. I may not like the circumstances, but my power will be restored and I intend to wield it for the good of all.”
I turned from him, and spent another half hour diluting concerns and pledging promises I’d die trying to keep if it came to that. When I was done, Markus was the only one who hadn’t relented to some greater or lesser degree. I saw it in the grim set of his mouth, in the worry darkening his brown eyes as I took my leave.
The barracks and training fields were separated from the main castle buildings by a thick swathe of Douglas firs. The King’s Guard once again melted out of sight as we reached the shade of the trees, never far, just unseen and unheard.
I rolled my eyes at the suffocating protectiveness. “Do they always follow you around like this?”
Nathanial shrugged. “Usually only when I’m outside the castle grounds.”
“But now your enemy’s inside the walls.”
“Not for much longer.” He sent me a look. “That was a pretty speech, about unity and bringing in a new era. Did you mean any of it?”
“I’m working on it.”
For the next few breaths, there was only the sound of fallen nettles mulching beneath our boots. “Well, I was impressed.”
“I didn’t do it to please you.”
Nathanial cut in front of me with a long-legged stride, blocking the path ahead and trapping me between a tall pine or retreat. “Maybe you should work on that, too.”
Never retreat.
“Else what?” I inched out of his space, up against the furry trunk. “You’ll separate my head from my neck?”
“There are plenty of other heads for me to go through, Rose, before we get to yours.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. “No!”
“No?”
I nudged my chin, refusing to be cowered in this. “Once we are wed, my people will be fully integrated and share the same status and rights as every other civilian. They will not be judged and executed by my actions, just the same as no one here is judged by yours. I won’t watch my people die one by one every time I put a foot wrong.”
“Fair enough,” he said easily, as if that last threat had been a stone in the wind rather than any serious intention, “with the exception of you gutting me in my sleep. Then General Sunderland’s orders stand.”
I nodded. “And while we’re on the subject, I expect my people to be released before the ceremony. If they’re still in shackles when we wed, I’ll always be the captive Queen and they’ll always be second-class citizens. That’s a recipe for unrest and insurgence.”
“You’re in no position to make demands.”
“And you can only kill my people once and when your leverage is gone, it’s gone,” I said. “What will you do then to bring me to the altar?”
He slammed a palm to the trunk, inches above my head. His teeth clenched, hollowing out his bristled jaw as he leant in, so close, his hair brushed my cheek. So close, I could see the silver glint of anger in his eyes.
I almost smiled at how good it felt to finally get beneath his skin. Nathanial Glamorgan wasn’t an invincible wall of rock after all.
“Take care, Rose,” he said, his voice deceptively silken. “I do have other means to get everything I want. Your voluntary participation was merely the least distasteful.”
“Voluntary?” I scoffed. “You really are deluded.”
“Come now, don’t play the aggrieved beggar,” he drawled, still crowding me, his pine-scented breath fanning my face. “We’re not even married yet and you’re using it to your advantage. I would never have proposed this union if I didn’t know how well you’d thrive.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ah, so this is all for my benefit.”
“That’s not what I said.” He stood back, giving me some space. “Remember that red breasted thrush?”
It took me a moment to make the connection, wind back the many years. How old had I been? Seven, maybe eight. We’d come across the fallen bird with a broken wing while walking in the woods. “You wrung its neck.”
“I was being merciful, sparing the bird a slow death.” Nathanial cocked his head, watchin
g me. “You didn’t speak to me for days. You always were stubborn, especially when you thought justice was not being served. But you weren’t just sulking. You were reading veterinary texts and you got Gunther to show you how to bandage a broken wing. You rise above adversary, Rose, and you find a way to turn it around for the betterment of everyone around you.”
I stared into his eyes, a scowl digging into my forehead. What was I even supposed to do with that?
Nathanial’s mouth hitched. “That wasn’t an insult or a threat.”
“I know exactly what that was,” I snapped. “And I won’t be manipulated by familiar memories of our youth. I’m no longer that girl, and you are most certainly not that boy anymore.”
“We’re all grown up now.” He ran a hand through his hair, dragged it all the way down. “However, I’m a man of my word and you made a valid point. I’ve gone to great lengths so you can rule at my side instead of captive in the shadows. Our upcoming nuptials will be announced in the town square at noon. Once that is done, I’ll give the order to ensure your people are free to walk the streets before the ceremony.”
“Thank you,” I said tersely, relieved but not entirely grateful. He hadn’t granted us our freedom, he’d sold it and the price was steep.
- 9 -
My afternoon had been reserved for wedding preparations and I was confined to the castle in no uncertain terms. Nathanial had made no bones about the two guards stationed outside my bedroom. He couldn’t have both me and my people wandering free about the town, lest we take advantage of the situation and escape, flee back to our mountain.
No matter how he dressed it in good intentions for the well-being of all our people, no matter how determined I was to stamp my own power on this marriage, the fact remained. I was a slave bride, forced against my will and every fibre of my being. A fact that seemed lost on Janine Marshland, the royal seamstress, when she arrived to fit me for my gown.
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