“Please?” she had pleaded.
“It will be all right. Go to my room.”
Gwen had nodded and, trusting her brother implicitly, ran from the room.
With her departure, Gwain had turned to face his mother. “She’s not old enough to leave home, nor to know what path she wishes to take. You cannot send her away.”
“It is not my doing, Gwain. ’Tis the will of the goddess.”
“You’re lying,” Gwain challenged.
“I don’t like your tone, young man.”
“I don’t care. You’ve never enjoyed caring for her. You were happy enough with a single child to secure your line, but Gwen?” He had shaken his head. “You never wanted a second child, let alone a daughter.”
“A lie!” his mother spat.
“It’s the truth. If you don’t want her, fine. I’ll take care of her myself.”
Lila’s eyes had narrowed. “You are training to be a knight. You cannot possibly do so taking care of a child.”
“I’ll choose another profession.”
“Out of the question!”
“I will—”
“And besides,” his mother had interrupted, “the choice is out of both our hands. Your sister has been named a future priestess of Kamar. Her fate cannot be altered.”
“You think I am simply going to allow you to take her?”
“Yes!” his mother had exclaimed. “You have no choice.”
“Young man.” Vivian had walked toward him with an unnatural grace, as though she glided through the air, footsteps silent in spite of the stone floor. She had stopped a pace from him, golden eyes causing his skin to crawl under her piercing gaze. “Do not fear, for your sister shall be well taken care of. She’ll enjoy all the luxuries and education of one befitting her station and high status. But…she must come.”
Gwain had parted his lips to argue, when Viviana added, “Many have gathered in order to escort her back to the temples. If you resist, her last memory will be of you in chains as we take her away. She is sure to be nervous going under the best of circumstances. Do not make her more frightened than necessary.”
“She’s a child. Don’t force her from all she knows. Not yet.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman had said, without a trace of empathy. “We must collect her now.”
“Now?” Blood had drained from his face as he heard his sister scream his name. He turned, rushing from the room toward her cries, reaching a hallway where he found two men forcing his sister toward the outer castle grounds.
“Stop!” he had screamed, only to find himself pushed against the wall by two men he hadn’t seen, his vision having narrowed to only his sister.
“Gwain!” Gwen had screamed, struggling to escape the man pulling her forward.
“Let her go!” Gwain had fought against the men, but they were stronger, easily holding him against the cold stone wall.
He had watched the men pulling his sister along in slow motion when a cold, feminine voice commanded, “Stop!”
When everyone paused, she had added, “Let the boy say his goodbyes.”
The men holding Gwain had stepped back.
He had drawn a breath, heart racing as the man holding his sister released her arm, allowing her to rush to him. She had wrapped her arms around his legs before he knelt down, numbness washing over him as he had pulled his sister to his chest. He would never forget how her entire body had trembled as he took her in his arms.
“Gwain help me,” she pleaded. “Please, I want to stay with you.”
The entreaty had broken his heart to infinite shards, mainly because gazing at the gathered men, he realized he could do nothing to prevent them from taking her. Moving his gaze to the priestess, he silently begged for mercy, but instead found pitiless indifference.
He had struggled to find reasonable words. “Gwen.” His voice had shaken and he drew a breath to steady it. “Listen to me.”
“Please,” she implored, shivering in his arms.
“Gwen, I spoke to Mum.”
“Mum?” She pulled back enough to see her brother’s eyes.
“You know how I am to become a knight?”
Gwen had looked uncertain, but nodded.
“And you know how excited I am to have been accepted for training?”
She had nodded again.
“Well, you see, becoming a priestess is a lot like becoming a knight. It’s a great honor to be chosen. They’ll teach you lots of fun lessons. You’ll get to learn about history, read lots of books, and even learn about magic.”
“Magic?”
“Yep.” He had forced a smile. “It’s very exciting. When I was your age, I would have loved to have been selected to learn spells and magic.”
“You would have?”
“Of course!” he had spoken the comforting lie with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “But I wasn’t chosen. Only the most special of all children get to be chosen. Like you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Gwen. You, sister, are the most special of all. Far more than me. Which is why you get to go with this nice lady and learn all you can. The same way I am going to go learn to be a knight.”
She had looked at him, tears slowing as she considered. “But…I’m afraid.”
“Yes, it can be scary. But it can also be exciting, if you let it. To be a knight, you have to be very brave. The same is true to become a priestess.” He had reached forward and wiped the tears from her cheeks, drying her face on the back of his sleeve. “Do you think you can do that for me, Gwen?”
It took several deep breaths, but Gwen had managed to smile. A trembling, tear-streaked attempt, but a smile all the same. A trusting expression that had pierced his heart for his treachery, and inability to protect this child he adored.
“I’m going to hug you, and then you’ll go to this nice woman. You’ll learn all you can, and have a wonderful time. You’ll become so smart being with the priestesses who will teach you.”
“But…”
“I’ll write to you, Gwen. Every day. And any time you’re scared, you can write to me as well. I promise to read every word, and it will be like you’re telling me everything, even if we’re far away.”
At her courageous nod, Gwain had felt his own tears gather. He pulled her close, hugging her tight so she would not see his pain. Once he managed to restrain his emotions enough not to scare her, Gwain pulled back and kissed her cheek. “Every day, Gwen. I promise.”
“I’ll try to be brave.”
“You already are,” he answered. “I love you, little sister.”
“Love you too, brother.”
Gwain had stood and, walking her to Viviana, had transferred his sister’s tiny fingers from his hand to those of the priestess, who smiled down at the child.
“Your brother is right,” she had assured. “You will learn a great deal at the temples, and become a fine priestess for the goddess. Now come, we must depart immediately.”
And with that, Viviana had pulled Gwen from his sight.
Chapter 12
Captain,” a voice called through his dream.
“Gwen!” He woke, jerking to his knees.
“Forgive me, Captain. You said to wake you at sunrise.”
“Oh, yes,” he answered, but his heart pounded faster than he would have preferred, memories blending with dreams the closer they moved toward the temples.
How long had it been since he’d awoken calling his sister’s name? Years. The memories, painful. Of all his failures, Gwen, by far, was his greatest.
As the guard left him to rise and pack the provisions he carried, Gwain attempted to push the past from his mind.
She’s a princess, he reminded himself. Set to be a future high priestess. What happened to Gwen won’t…
Despite the reassuring mantra, with each passing day he grew more uncertain. His sister had been highborn. Their father, a powerful man from a prestigious bloodline. All of which had aligned to condemn, not save, th
e little girl he had promised to protect from all harm. Now here he was, ordered again to hand a girl in his charge over to the same temples who’d torn his frightened sister from his arms.
Heart heavy, Gwain finished packing and offered a few extra oats to Gabriel before saddling the horse. Leading the stallion to the princess, Gwain assisted her onto the horse before mounting behind her. Now only two days’ ride from the temple, Amelia’s pleas for him to change his mind had ceased, the fire in her eyes dimming to resignation.
That evening, his men suggested, if they could stand riding a few more hours, they could reach the temple grounds that night. Gwain rejected the idea, ordering his men to bed down.
Sometime in the night, he heard a shout. He had dreamed of her again, his sister, her child-like plea transforming to the deeper tones of the man calling his name.
“Captain Gwain!” the shout came again, drawing him from troubled dreams to a far more dangerous reality.
“Gwain, get up!”
He jerked awake, panic in the call bringing him to instant awareness. Reaching for the sword beside him, Gwain removed the blade from its leather sheath and rose in a single, fluid motion.
Astride matching black horses, seven men approached, garbed in gray cloaks, silver swords in their hands.
“Who goes there?” Gwain demanded, his men gathering to form a wall between the intruders and the princess, who had crawled from her tent at the commotion.
“What’s going on?” she asked quietly, but no one paid her any attention. The guards kept their eyes forward.
When they reached the clearing where the guard had made camp, the advancing men stopped, save for one who rode forth into the firelight. Features highlighted, Gwain looked up at the man in confusion.
“Lord Yarin?” he asked the high-ranking aristocrat. “What brings you here?”
“A change of plans,” Yarin answered. “The queen has reconsidered her sister’s placement in the temples. I am to personally escort her back.”
“Personally escort her?” Gwain stared at him with instant distrust. “Why would the queen choose your men to return her, over her own knights, who have seen her safely through this journey?”
“She requests you continue on and deliver the letter she prepared for the high priestess.”
“There are eight of us. It only takes one to deliver a letter.”
“It’s a missive of great importance, and after your long journey—”
“No longer than yours, my lord.”
“We flew the majority of the way, and journeyed only from a nearby estate. You could not fly, with the princess in chains.”
Amelia’s heart leapt at Yarin’s words. Her sister had come to her senses! Amelia’s lips split into a smile as she walked toward her savior, but Gwain held out his arm, blocking her steps.
“It’s all right,” Amelia said, relief audible in her words. “She’s changed her mind.”
Gwain turned and met her eyes. Only then did she notice his tense body, the too-straight line of his back, and the tight grip on his sword. He shook his head, a slight movement meant for Amelia alone.
“Come, Princess,” Yarin beckoned, moving closer. “I’ll take you home.”
Amelia looked again from Gwain to the man on the horse. He had a thin appearance, with a narrow nose and thin, pronounced cheeks. Pulling his mount to a complete stop, he stared across the firelight, but his eyes were only for the princess. His piercing gaze, even from across the campfire’s slender flames, and possessive expression caused Amelia to step closer to Gwain.
Turning back to face Yarin, Gwain politely inquired, “I assume you bring sealed orders to verify your claim?”
“Are you questioning my honor?”
“Not your honor, my lord. Duty dictates I must insist on seeing the sealed orders.”
“You should know better than to question your superiors, guardsman.”
“Captain,” he corrected, with a deceptively easy smile, “charged with protecting the royal family from all possible threats. No matter what their rank.”
“Protect them?” Yarin gave a crude laugh. “You are taking this lovely creature at your side to the temples. You, of all people, Gwain, know what is done to beautiful women behind those sacred walls.”
A harsh silence fell, prompting Amelia to turn toward Gwain. “What is he talking about?”
The captain did not answer, but maintained his gaze on the men across the shadowed field.
“Gwain?” she asked again. “What does he mean?”
“Ah, so the good captain hasn’t told you what’s entailed in being trained as a priestess? Though, given you were ordered there by the queen, I suppose warning you would have been a moot point.” Yarin dismounted, lightly holding his horse’s reins as he stepped closer, both arms out in a non-threatening gesture. “Come, Princess. Don’t you want to be safe? Come to me and all will be well.”
Amelia’s skin crawled, though she was uncertain as to why.
“Your written orders?” Gwain repeated his previous demand.
“Here.” Yarin reached into an inner pocket of his cloak to withdraw a tied scroll. One of the men to Amelia’s left took the offered proof and brought it to Gwain, who sheathed his sword to remove the ribbon. The seal appeared official, the recognizable imprint of the queen’s ring standing against the wax. Gwain broke the seal, opening the parchment to find Yarin’s statement mirrored by the inscription within, and signed by the newly crowned queen.
“This seems to be in—”
“Gwain.” His words ceased when the princess said his name and stepped closer. Whispering into his left ear, Amelia continued, “That’s not her signature.”
His eyes went to the bottom where the seal had again been pressed into the parchment. The queen’s personal seal. “Are you certain?”
“My sister did not sign this order.”
Gwain nodded and raised his hand. “I’m afraid, my lord, these orders do not meet protocol. I am happy to escort the princess back to the palace, but I cannot release her to you, or any other. She is royal.”
“You intend to surrender her to the temples, revoking her royal status.”
“But these orders change that, do they not, Lord Yarin? If the princess is to be returned to the palace, she falls under the protection of the royal guardsmen. My men are happy to escort the princess back to her sister.”
“This is not what the queen has ordered. You’ll surrender her to our care, and you shall do so now.” Anger filled Yarin’s voice, making Amelia grateful to have Gwain standing between her and the strange lord, in spite of her captive status.
“Surely such a transfer could wait until morning?” Gwain attempted a different tact.
“No,” Yarin insisted. “You will hand over the princess and continue your errand, per the queen’s orders.”
“The letter is a lie,” Gwain cut pretense.
“It most certainly is not.”
“That’s not Queen Kaliyah’s signature,” Amelia inserted herself into the conversation.
The declaration surprised Yarin, who turned toward one of the men behind him. “You said the letter was a perfect match!”
“I thought it—”
“I don’t know how you forged her seal,” Amelia said, “but she did not write this letter.”
“Yarin,” Gwain challenged, “what’s this about?”
“I would think it would be obvious,” Yarin answered. “You have a princess of Kalleen. Do you think the other nobles would have stood for having her hauled to the temples, had the queen given time to offer objection?”
“Her sister is crowned. This one has no ambitions for the throne.”
“Ah, but she could. Or her children could.”
“I don’t understand. What do you want?” Amelia again cut in.
“Why, you, Princess,” Yarin answered. “Once you enter service to the temples, you surrender all titles and status. Any possible claim to the throne. Why do you think your sister ordere
d you there in the first place, if not to remove you from the potential line of succession? After she was crowned, you, and those of your direct line, alone have the power to challenge her throne.”
“Challenge her throne?” Amelia shook her head. “I’ve never wanted anything to do with it.”
Pulling his sword from its sheath, Gwain focused on Amelia’s sapphire gaze. “What he means, Princess, is if you were to marry and have a child, your own desires would not matter.”
“What?”
“Tradition dictates, if you marry and bear an heir, your husband would have the right to challenge for the throne, in the name of fighting for your child’s right to succession. Were he to succeed, he would rule as regent, until said child came of an age to rule on their own.”
Amelia shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“He wants you for his bed, Princess.”
Amelia jerked to look at the lord, her eyes meeting his in newfound fear.
“Come now, Princess. Surely my bed would be better than anything you will find in the temples. I’m a skilled lover, as many ladies have attested. I promise to make it good for you. And should you not enjoy my company, it need only be until you produce my child.”
“Produce your child?” She stepped back, ice filling the veins which had held warm blood moments before. “No.”
“You have no choice, and I tire of this discussion.” Yarin refocused his attention on Gwain. “Hand over the princess, and this will end peacefully. Or refuse, and we shall take her by force.”
You have no choice, Gwain’s mother echoed.
Followed by his sister’s screams.
Jarred by the memory, he took a step toward the noble, hand flexing on the grip of his blade. “You are not taking her anywhere.”
“Yes.” Yarin motioned, and his men encroached upon the camp. “I am.”
With a flick of Yarin’s wrist, the standoff shattered as men raised swords to the ring of clashing steel. Gwain did not rush to engage though, instead grabbing Amelia’s arm and dragging her back toward the horses, which had thankfully been tethered on the far side of the field, placing the other seven knights between the advancing men and their princess.
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