Kingdom of Refuge (Gemstone Royals Book 1)

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Kingdom of Refuge (Gemstone Royals Book 1) Page 15

by Kelly A. Purcell


  “How?” He squeaked, his lips stiff.

  The prince smirked maniacally, “this is my study, my power is at its peak within these walls,” he slowly started closing his fist and Serin’s eyes bulged as he fought to breathe.

  “See Serin of Aldor, I do not think you truly grasp who it is you are dealing with. Here in Dravia, there is no such thing as favours, but debts are collected. And I have every intention of collecting on the deal I made with you. You wanted your freedom, you wanted a way out of Aldor, and I provided it. Now it is time for your end of the deal.”

  Suddenly he opened his palms and Serin slumped to the ground, gasping and coughing as air rushed into his lungs again. He turned to the prince, looking up at him with fear in his eyes. The prince smiled widely, he loved that look on the faces of those who served him and to think that his father and brother always thought him to be weak. He took a step towards Serin and stooped down, so he was close enough to see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

  “Are you afraid Serin?”

  “You do not scare me,” Serin grunted, forcing himself to sit up.

  The prince chuckled, as he reached for a vial from his pocket. He held the young man’s gaze as he unscrewed the cap and poured a portion of the fine dark dust into his palms.

  “Oh, but you should,” he said, before opening his palm and blowing a puff of dust into Serin’s face.

  Serin fell backward and gagged, then sneezed, then gasped, his eyes growing wide and bloodshot.

  “What… what did you do to me?”

  “Sealing the terms of your employment,” the prince exploded in laughter as he stood up.

  “Get out of my sight, servant.”

  He watched as Serin stumbled to his feet, still coughing and sneezing as he dashed towards the door.

  “And remember Serin, you work for me now. If you try to leave, you die.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  King Kalgary sat upon his throne, his eyes drooping with sadness. It felt like ages since he had laid eyes on his daughter. Though he presented a front to his officers of the court, each day he woke up and she was not safely within the walls of his castle, his heart broke afresh. News was circulating throughout the kingdom and people were adding their own thoughts about his leadership. Some of them were stirring up tensions in the kingdom, that it had his advisors grinding their teeth demanding that the king do something quickly. The few of councillors who knew Ruby’s history, believed that Ruby was dispensable. As far as they were concerned Ruby being his daughter was merely a political move made years ago after the battle of Caldwell. They did not understand that Ruby was his daughter in every sense of the word and that that meant that she was irreplaceable and unforgettable. While they were busy doing damage control and appeasing King LaBar and his son, all he could think of doing was getting his daughter back.

  "Your majesty!" in came his chamberlain, walking stiffly toward the throne in his overly important demeanour. As he saw him approach he remembered how yesterday he had entered with the mother of the brave soldier who had volunteered to go in after Ruby. If more of his soldiers were like that young lad, he would be a happy king. Yet he was not particularly pleased to relay the news to the boy's mother that he had gone willingly into the place she had tried to save him from. It tore at his heart even more when he realized who the soldier's father was. This family had sacrificed much for the kingdom and he did not desire to see this brave mother mourn the loss of her only son a mere three years after her husband's death. But Deswald was strong willed and given what he knew about prince Haddin, that would be his greatest weapon and Ruby's as well.

  He blinked quickly, drawing himself out of his reverie, "yes Gladis," he said to the thin man now kneeling before him.

  "Your daughter is here," the man announced.

  The king shot to his feet, "Ruby?" he asked excitedly.

  "I apologize your majesty..." the man sputtered, just as a woman entered through the side door.

  "I know I am not the daughter you are expecting father, but I hope that I will do for now."

  King Kalgary's eyes shone with joy as a woman whose height rivalled his own, stepped before him, the concern in her brown eyes betraying her smile.

  "Pearl!" he exclaimed, "my beautiful child."

  She stepped into his outstretched arm and clung tightly to him, "I came as soon as I heard, father," she cried.

  She stepped back to look at him, and he took the opportunity to look at her as well.; his first born. She looked happy, wearing her thick hair in her signature twist outs, reaching just above her shoulders.

  "You know what the cause of all this is," she said with surety.

  "Love apparently," he said sarcastically, turning away from her.

  Pearl looked sympathetically at him, "she doubts," she said sadly.

  The king nodded, "just like you did," he said, turning to her once more. Like all his daughters, Pearl was beautiful. She had grown into a respected leader in Aldor as co-leader of the North Territory, home to prosperous stone and farm lands and he could not be prouder. This is what he wanted for all his children, a purposeful future filled with love and honour, this is what he wanted for Ruby.

  “Yes, like I did. Even though there was no doubt who my father was.”

  The king frowned, “Ruby knows she belongs.”

  “Does she?”

  The king sighed, he loved Pearl but her natural insight into people often annoyed him. It served her well as leader of the North, but he disliked how she always forced him to see what he did not want to in people.

  "I could imagine how the council is panicking,” Pearl was saying, “It is not everyday, that a princess runs away to an enemy kingdom with a palace guard."

  The king growled, "I hate the sound of that."

  "I too hold on to the hope that we she will return to us," Pearl said solemnly, then sighed deeply.

  "Then again, it is Ruby and she is known to be quite stubborn, especially if she feels like she has something to prove."

  The king smiled at her, only the queen could have annoyed him and calmed him the way Pearl did. She was always such a ray of light to him, but she often made him miss his late wife; Pearl was so much like her mother. Though his wife's blood did not course through the veins of all of his children she had done an excellent job of pouring out the kindness of her heart into each one of them.

  “How is Jasper taking it? I have not seen him around. He is usually the first to greet me.”

  The king grew somber, “not well. You know how he feels about you girls. He has been going on about prophecies and conspiracies,” the king shook his head, “he has come to me twice with the idea of going after Ruby himself.”

  “Oh, but he cannot.”

  “That is what I told him. The political ramifications would be too great.”

  Pearl placed a petite hand on his broad chest and smiled sadly, “would it be too great a risk to take for Ruby?”

  The king shook his head, “No risk is too great to take for Ruby,” he turned and took a step forward, clasping his hand behind his back, “however, I will not go where I am not wanted. I cannot force her away from what she desires.”

  Pearl nodded, “You are right. We can only pray now that El turns her heart to wisdom.”

  "How is your husband and son? And the territory?" the king asked, after an unnerving moment of silence. He was eager to change the subject and from the way her expression lifted, so did she.

  “They are all well. Production has increased immensely under Reeve's expertise, I could not have found a better partner. The Northerners are happy."

  In her eyes shone the gratitude she held for her father and the depth of love she had for the man she had once reviled and refused to wed.

  "I am glad," the king said, "I hope you have brought along my grandson. I long to see him."

  "Of course, he waits for you. I knew you would need all the joy you can get in a time like this. And who better to do it than your Ruel," she r
eplied, looping her arms through his as they walked out of the throne room.

  The king watched with pride as his grandson scampered about his wife’s garden. He wished she was here to witness how their family had grown and how their children had blossomed. A part of him believed that had she been alive Ruby would not have run away. She had always had a way with her, with all their children, even when he had brought Ruby home for the first time without consulting her. He remembered it like it was yesterday and considered it a blessing to watch her pour her whole heart into each one of them so that they all grew up with a greater capacity for love and compassion than he ever had.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  18 years ago

  “Where is my wife?” Kalgary asked as he entered through the back entrance of Durberry Manor, the property his father had given to him and his wife upon their marriage.

  It was located just outside the city near the pasturelands, a serene and beautiful location that his wife adored. Together they had raised their first two children Pearl and then Jasper and were now looking forward to their third. Kalgary hated leaving her for work but his responsibilities as heir to the throne and head of the Aldorian Knights were getting more and more numerous as his father’s health declined. He knew he often asked a lot of her and now he was about to ask her something even greater. He looked down at the basket in his hand carefully covered to hide the sleeping baby within.

  “Your majesty, she is in the nursery,” one of the servants replied.

  He nodded his thanks and made his way there. He had not even bothered to remove his uniform as he usually did. He found his wife rocking in the chair he had made her when they were expecting Pearl and humming a lullaby. Her melodic voice always brought him peace, even now that he stood with a great responsibility and terrible heart ache over what the Nerubians had endured because of his father’s coldness.

  “My love,” he said.

  The humming stopped, and she turned to look at him, a smile lighting up her effervescent countenance. She braced her arms on the armchair to push herself upward, and Kalgary ran toward her.

  “Please, do not get up,” he said.

  She had grown quite a lot in the past few weeks. Any day now they would welcome a new baby. His wife relaxed in the chair again and sighed as he kissed her forehead.

  “You are glowing my love.”

  “I am huge and round,” she countered with a smirk, “how was your trip?”

  Instantly his expression grew sombre and he knelt before her, resting down the basket out of her line of sight.

  “Oh no. What happened?” she asked.

  He shook his head, “they are gone, we were to late.”

  “Gone?” she asked frowning in confusion, “did they escape the Dravians?”

  “No Kera, they were killed, brutally murdered by those fiends.”

  Kera gasped and tears instantly started welling up in her big brown eyes, “oh no!”

  She was overly emotional these days, but even when she was not pregnant, Kera had the capacity to feel the pain of others in a way Kalgary still could not understand. His father had grown him to be strong, and that was all he had strived to be his whole life, until he met Kera who had shown him that feeling pain and expressing emotions did not make a person weak, but stronger.

  “All of them?” she asked tearfully.

  Kalgary swallowed hard, his gaze going to the basket where the sleeping baby lay. The little one was so well behaved.

  “Not all of them,” he replied, as he reached for the basket. His wife watched as he drew back the covering and removed the blanket, he looked at her once more, taking in her curious expression before he reached down and picked up the baby.

  Kera’s gasp drew his attention back to her, “I found her guarded by lions in a cave, just like in my dream. She is the only survivor.”

  “Her mother?”

  Kalgary sighed, “the bodies were so badly wounded it was hard to identify whose they were, but the amount of carnage I saw, I doubt there are any survivors.”

  “Shhh,” his wife said, “no more talk of that, she is waking.”

  Kalgary looked down at the infant in his arms as she stirred, her tiny fists making those cute little circles as she squinted her face accentuating her chubby cheeks. His wife extended her hands.

  “Let me hold her.”

  He gently placed the baby in Kera’s arms, and she pulled her close to her bosom, just above her protruding stomach.

  “She is precious,” she whispered, as the baby opened her big brown eyes.

  “Oh so precious,” Kera cried, reaching down to touch her tiny nose.

  Kalgary watched them together with pride in his eyes, “I was thinking we could call her Ruby."

  Kera looked up at him, understanding flashing in her eyes. They had already started the tradition of naming their children after precious jewels.

  “She is not Aldorian Kal, look at her. How can we ever pass her off as our own?”

  He reached up and brushed his large hand over the baby's red crown of hair, “we will figure something out. I just feel like she belongs with us.”

  “Your father…”

  “Can never know,” he finished.

  Kera nodded, “if she is the last of her kind we must protect her, at all costs. It breaks my heart that at so young an age she must know such pain and loss.”

  “With us, she does not have to,” Kalgary said, “she will have a family with us.”

  “She will never really fit in among us, look at her. One day she will have questions Kal.”

  “And we will be there to answer them, together.”

  Kera held his gaze and slowly a smile formed on her lips, “looks like this little one will have an instant companion,” she said, touching her stomach.

  Kalgary placed his hand above hers and bowed to kiss her stomach, “if we do this right, no one will doubt that she is ours in every way.”

  Ruby cooed in her arms and grinned her gums as if she too was excited about what they had decided.

  CHAPTER 17

  Deswald tossed the last sack off flour onto the wagon with a grunt and dusted his hands off on his patched-up trousers. Never in his life had he worn clothes so hideous, not to mention that they itched. He reached up and scratched a patch on his shoulder with a grimace.

  “You get used to it,” Stiller said, as he came up beside him, as usual his expression was an unreadable mask of preoccupation.

  Deswald looked about them at the busy streets of the city central and with a frown turned back to Stiller.

  “Where is the horse?”

  They had made the journey into the city central to collect some supplies. The contrast of the bustling city and Arduway was disturbing. Fancy carriages, well bred horses and the richest clothing distinguished the classes. Peasant scurried around in worn out clothing, pulling on carts and bowing their heads low, avoiding eye contact with those of higher classes as they went about their business. Stiller had already positioned himself at the front of the small cart where the horse would usually be strapped in and lifted the wooden brace in front of him.

  “All the horses are out,” he grunted. Deswald’s eyes widened in disbelief, “so you are just going to pull this cart loaded with sacks of flour all the way back to Arduway?”

  “Yes,” Stiller replied, “Look around you, I would not be the only one.”

  Deswald did look around him, and sure enough there were men and women drawing their carts without horses, looking like it was the most normal thing in the world. Stiller pressed his chest against the wooden brace and pushed forward, grunting with the effort it took to get the cart moving. Deswald knew it was hardly the time to have a conversation with him, so he walked alongside him.

  “Is there any way I can help?” he asked. He hated being so clueless and feeling so useless.

  “Give me a push at the back,” Stiller grunted.

  Deswald nodded and took up a spot in the back, planting his feet and adding his strengt
h to Stiller’s momentum. At this rate, they would get back to the bakery beneath Stiller’s house when the sun was at its peak in the sky and by then Deswald knew he would regret not taking the wide brimmed hat Stacia had offered him.

  Deswald was relieved to find that he was wrong. Now he could see why Stiller was such a decorated Knight. The man had the strength of a horse and his willpower was far from humanly. They pulled up to the bakery less than half an hour after they had left the square and despite being a sweaty mess, Stiller was as relaxed as if he had merely taken a reflective stroll through a garden. The man lived up to his name. The only person who seemed capable of breaking through that tough warrior exterior was his chubby cheerful wife. She came out to meet them before the cart could even come to a stop in front the entrance. She helped direct them as they lined up the cart with the doors and did not return inside without giving her husband a peck on the cheek and a pleased pat on his sweaty shoulder.

  “Good work my love. Now head upstairs and clean up before meeting.”

  Stiller smiled, it was such an odd expression on his marble like face, and no matter how many times Deswald saw him do it, each time felt like it was the very first time.

  “Alright, help me offload these,” Stiller said as he proceeded to hoist a heavy sack unto his broad shoulder.

  Another man came out of the bakery and with a nod of his head and a suspicious slide glance at Deswald leaned up against the pillar of the house and folded his arms. Deswald thought he had come to help, but the man seemed to merely be keeping watch. As Deswald hoisted a sack onto his own shoulder, he contemplated what kind of place required guards for sacks of flour and corn meal.

  He carried the sack inside and met Stiller coming out, the Bakery was already bustling with patrons, but one look at them and Deswald had a feeling they were not here to get the first batch of hot bread.

  “Carry that through that door there, Stacia will direct you,” Stiller said, and as Deswald walked past, hunched under the weight of his burden, Stiller introduced him to the group.

 

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