The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  Bethany tried to keep the blush from forming on her cheeks, but it was useless. She glanced down to remind herself what she was wearing. It was one of the simplest frocks she own, a green gown with long, snug sleeves. In fact, it was so simple she imagined a middle-class woman would be able to afford it. She had dressed assuming no one would visit her today.

  One blush blended into another.

  “I have something for you,” the prince said before she could get anymore embarrassed. He crossed the room to where she stood and, without any preamble, flipped open the box. Inside laid an enormous necklace on a bed of silk. The rope was made of perfectly white pearls, each one identical in shape and size. From the string of pearls hung three immense rubies, the middle ruby just enough larger than the other two to be gaudy.

  Bethany adored it!

  She stood staring at the ostentatious necklace with her mouth hanging open, completely entranced as the light of the fire shimmered in the massive gems.

  “Mother said it would match your dress.”

  Bethany glanced up to see a look of concern spreading across the prince's features. “It's... it's overwhelming,” she stuttered, trying to find a way to describe just how much she wanted it.

  The prince took that for a good sign. He plucked the necklace from its box, motioned for her to turn, and applied himself to hanging it from her neck. Bethany knew the neckline of her dress; the snug necklace would fit perfectly.

  “You really like it?” he asked as she turned back to face him.

  Bethany's small fingers were already tracing the outline of the string of pearls. “Very much so.”

  For the first time in a very, very long time she felt happy. An involuntary smile spread across her face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a present of any sort, and she knew perfectly well she had never received any gift that was so costly. As the youngest child of a war-torn king, she mostly wore her mother's jewelry when occasion called for it.

  “Good,” Féderic whispered before leaning down to kiss her.

  And in that instant, all her happiness was gone. The necklace was costly, very costly. Her payment would be her life. In just a few, short weeks, she would marry the prince.

  She let him kiss her, too stunned with her realization to creatively duck out of his embrace. Bethany let her body's natural instincts take over, one hand wrapping loosely around his waist while the other continued to trace the shape of the pearls.

  Was this sort of wealth worth the price?

  To her utmost disgust, a small piece of her mind thought it just might be. She could learn to forget the past, learn to ignore the scars on her body and soul, and simply live in the present. Maybe she could even learn to like Féderic.

  But if she did, what would happen to her family? Could she become their enemy, too?

  Cal walked down the corridor, forcing himself to leave the letter in his pocket. Reading it again wouldn't change the information it contained, nor would it speed up time. The man investigating his sister's current location seemed to think he was getting close to an answer. Of course, this meant he needed more money, but Cal willingly paid. More investigation would be necessary; besides, even if he did know the exact location, Cal wouldn't be able to pursue it until after the banquet. Life was simply too busy right now.

  Before he could make it to the stairwell that would lead up to his level, where the knights and a few high ranking soldiers kept quarters, Féderic caught him.

  “Cal!”

  “My lord,” he said formally, hoping the prince would be discouraged from further talk.

  “I just gave Bethany the necklace. She loved it!”

  The shallow twit, Cal thought before he could sensor his own mind. His thoughts didn't show on his face, they seldom ever did. If your thoughts and intentions showed on your face, you would die in battle, simple as that.

  “I think she's actually warming up to me. I kissed her and she didn't pull away. In fact, I think she was kissing me back!”

  “I'm happy for you,” Cal heard himself say. Even to his own ears his voice sounded unnatural. He needed to escape the prince's company before his sudden anger showed through; though why he was angry he couldn't say. “If you'll excuse me, my lord, I am very busy.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” With that the prince sauntered off, too happy to be annoyed with the knight.

  Cal ground his teeth as he marched up the stairs.

  Of course she liked the necklace. It was just the thing to lure the superficial woman into his arms. She would be happy to be with anyone, so long as they kept her in furs and diamonds.

  I won’t think about her anymore, he told himself as he flopped onto his bed and drifted into an uncomfortable dream about an annoying blond woman with scars on her back.

  Cal didn't sleep well.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The big day finally arrived. Bethany spent the morning surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, who worked diligently to have her dressed and ready long before it was necessary. The process of dressing and having her hair done up in ornate braids did not require any effort from her, and Bethany spent the time struggling to comprehend the throng of emotions rampaging through her mind.

  It seemed to be a perfect mix of fear, excitement, and disgust with a fine layer of resignation over the top. Her family pride made it impossible to be truly joyous about the banquet being thrown in honor of her engagement to Féderic, and yet her fingers kept creeping up to her new necklace. She stroked the pearls and traced the outline of the enormous rubies, happy during the brief moments that her fingers touch the wealth that hung from her neck; when she realized what was happening she dropped her fingers, disgusted with how easily she fell into their grasp.

  Bethany knew the gift was designed to lure her into a place of complacency, or even happiness, and she was horrified to find that their scheme was working. She felt more resigned to her future with Féderic than she had even a week ago.

  Was it just the gift? Or was time doing this, too? Aside from Mirabelle and Wolfric, she was slowly beginning to see the different members of the family as people. She knew some of their hopes and fears, and this new knowledge broke down the barriers she had originally placed between herself and her captives. For example, Bethany knew Cedric, the youngest of the grown princes, had a soft spot for one of his sister's ladies-in-waiting. She also knew a different lady-in-waiting would have been happy to return the feeling. In contrast, she knew that Lyolf, the unspoken bastard of the family, was thinking of leaving the protection of the family to join the army, though this was not common knowledge amongst the family. His parents definitely didn't know their son was thinking of leaving them.

  Long before Bethany could settle her feelings, her door swung open, startling her ladies-in-waiting, to reveal Sir Erin Caldry. “They're ready for you,” he announced from the doorway. The other women scurried out of the room while Bethany slowly rose to her feet.

  Like everyone else in the castle, the knight was dressed in his finest. Over his usual chain-mail, he wore a leather tabard embroidered with the royal family's livery. To protect from the cold that permeated the castle despite the many fires, he wore a thick cloak, the collar made of a white fox fur. Even with the scars running down one side of his face, he looked very handsome and regal in his own way.

  Bethany swallowed the lump forming in her throat and joined him in the doorway. In his normal manner, he offered his arm and jerked her off balance as he brought his elbow back to his side. Bethany did her best to ignore it, which seemed to only annoy him more.

  They walked in silence, meeting the family at the head of the largest staircase leading down to the great hall. The knight handed her over to Féderic and escaped down the stairs.

  Bethany thought of the last time she has been announced at a banquet in her home, with her family. Her feelings then had been so different from what they were now. Now she was a captive, and yet here she was, about to be announced to a mob of enemies as their future queen.
Bethany forced the emotions down before they could consume her, mostly because she didn't know which emotion it was that threatened to overwhelm her. Was she angry at the idea of her enemies welcoming her as one of their own, or was she excited at the thought of being elevated to an heir apparent.

  To her astonishment, the rest of the family descended in a group, without the honor of the herald announcing their entrance. Bethany watched them leave, wondering what was happening. A moment after they left her line of sight, she heard the crowd grow quiet and the king's loud voice.

  “Friends! I am happy to announce a surprising turn of events which has taken place over the last couple of weeks. Princess Bethany Kavadh has agreed to wed Prince Féderic!”

  Rather than any sort of cheering, Bethany heard the mob break into soft, uncertain murmuring. It quickly ended as the king continued.

  “She has expressed her hope that through their union, a peace might be reached between us and her family!”

  This brought about the cheers Bethany had expected. Evidently the average noble wasn't as keen on war as their king. Eventually the crowd quieted again.

  “Now, let me introduce to you your future king and queen!”

  Whatever feelings this last statement may have produced in Bethany, they were shadowed by her sense of loss. A weight descended on her shoulders, making her dress feel ten times as heavy as it really was. These people thought she wanted to help them, and though she wanted peace, she didn't think this was the way to achieve it. More importantly, she doubted whether Wolfric would ever allow true peace between them and her family. He wanted their rich land too much.

  All of the warring emotions raging through her settled in their proper place. In a moment of clarity, she realized what the king was really using her for. With her help, he would gain access to her family and likely stage a coup or assassination. In no time at all, he would kill off all her family until she was the only heir left, and therefore instate his own son into their line of succession.

  Bethany had to work to control her face as she descended the steps with Féderic. He, of course, was ecstatic. His father had just announced publicly that Féderic would indeed become king one day, and though he could go back on his word, it was less likely once it has been stated so publicly.

  Just as they were entering the crowd’s line of sight, Bethany forced her lips up into something that resembled a smile, though it felt more like the beginning of a growl. Either way, her teeth were visible. Hopefully the expression would interpret it as a smile. She didn't want her sudden increase in hatred to be known to her enemies just yet.

  Bethany felt, for the first time since her first night in a real bed, the need to ruin this family and kingdom in whatever little way she could. She knew her previous attacks had been nothing but nibbles on Wolfric's boot heel, except maybe Féderic's accident, but now she was determined to stab at the heart of the king.

  For now though, she would have to mislead them.

  The crowd cheered for them until they reached their seats on the dais.

  The dinner went off without a hitch. In fact, Bethany wasn't really required to do anything other than eat and attend to what Féderic said until the meal was finished. Then the many tables were removed to make room for dancing. Unsurprisingly, she and Féderic opened the dancing.

  What with Bethany's newfound hatred for her fiancé and what their engagement meant, she had trouble allowing him to wrap his arm around her waist and guide her through the dance. Féderic kept her dancing long after she would have liked to sit down. Her feet were beginning to ache from pounding them on the stone floor, and her back throbbed from the effort it took to carry her thick, heavy dress. She began dropping hints, which he ignored. Finally, she flat out asked him if they could rest.

  “Of course, my dear,” said Féderic as though he was surprised to find her tired.

  They weaved their way through the crowd to where the king and queen sat. A bench was left vacant next to them for the royal children. With all solicitude, Féderic guided her to the bench and took a seat between her and his mother. As they sat, Bethany noticed the queen motioning for someone to come to her. Bethany assumed it was a slave with a pitcher, but to her annoyance it was the scarred knight.

  “Sir Caldry, would you take Bethany back out to the dance floor. I need to talk to Féderic, and I'm sure Bethany would rather dance than sit here and be bored,” said the queen as though Féderic had been rude to pull Bethany away from the dance floor.

  Bethany tried to think of a way to politely decline, but before she could, the knight had taken her hand and escorted her back out onto crowded dance floor. To her surprise, the scarred man swung her easily into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. At first she tensed at the close proximity, before she realized that his tight grip was keeping some of her weight off her battered feet. With more expertise than she expected, the knight guided them through the crowd, to the opposite side of the throng and up against an empty bench. Before she knew what had happened, she was sitting on the bench next to Sir Caldry. Her breathing came in shallow gasps as she took in their surroundings.

  Finally she looked at him, confusion written across her features.

  “You're tired,” he stated in response to her unspoken question. “You haven’t gained your strength back. You should eat more. Besides, I thought you'd prefer to sit until they want you again rather than dance with me.”

  Bethany couldn't think of a polite way to respond, so she remained silent and watched the other dancers. She was happy to sit quietly, without the prince's incessant attention, but she was too surprised by Caldry's sudden generosity to enjoy the reprieve. It had been a long time since the knight had done anything nice or helpful for her.

  What had brought this on?

  When she thought he wasn't looking, she stole glances at him, but she couldn't discern any change in him. She was looking at his unscarred side, and though his mouth was turned down in a perpetual frown, she realized he really was a handsome man, with strong features, thick hair cropped short, and a long, straight nose.

  Handsome or not, though, he was a cruel man who had taken a sudden dislike of her since her true identity had been revealed, she reminded herself. Bethany forced herself to remember all the beatings she had received at his hand, determined to despise anyone associated with this place and her time here.

  As she sat beside the man who had caused her hours upon hours of pain, she reformed her resolution to fight Wolfric in any way she could.

  Now she just had to figure out what mischief she could cause.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Cal ran his hands through his hair one last time in a nervous gesture before mounting his horse, who was currently trying to take a bite out of the stable hand. The young lad was doing a little dance with the horse's head, masterfully keeping away from Éimhin's large teeth. Cal wasn't in the mood to find his horse's aggressive tendencies humorous.

  He mounted in a swift, practiced motion, despite the weight of his chain mail. The stable hand tossed him the lead and ducked out of the way. Cal didn't wait to make sure the lad had gotten away before kicking Éimhin into motion. The horses quickly shifted into an easy canter and took him out of the castle grounds before Cal had time to think about what he was hoping to do today.

  He had received another letter from the man investigating his sister, and this time the letter contained good news: She had been found. The bad news was that she was now the slave to a man Cal knew all too well.

  Tethys was a wealthy lord living in Tolad. Unlike many of the other lords, Tethys had learned to use his wealth to gain true power within the city. He had subtle control over the city guards and the prosperous horse trade. This meant he was a valuable asset to the king. Cal knew his only hope of getting Tethys to sell his sister to him was through diplomacy. Excessive money wouldn't be enough. Cal had to offer Tethys something Cal could do better than anyone else—this generally meant killing.

  It only took Cal a f
ew minutes to ride to Tethys' manor. The lord was wealthy enough to afford one of the large, gated estates that circled the castle, a long stone's throw from the outer walls of the castle. At the gate, a slave boy chained to the wall to keep him from escaping, opened the gate. Cal tried not to think about what sort of humiliating tasks Tethys had his sister doing.

  At the large double doors of the manor house, another slave ran up and took Éimhin's head. Before Cal had time to warn him, the horse bit the man's shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The slave yelped and ran away. Before Cal could tie his own horse to a stand near the door, the door opened to reveal Tethys, dressed in his usual black, with a few gaudy gold chains hanging from his neck. The rich lord glared down at him.

  “Where's my man? Why isn't he here to attend your horse?” Tethys demanded.

  Cal realized the lord's anger was not directed at him. “It's probably better, my lord. My horse has a tendency to bite. I think your man is nursing a pretty nasty wound.”

  The lord's glare shifted towards his horse. Cal couldn't blame him, but hoped the incident wouldn't put Tethys off too much. Cal needed him to be open to his proposal.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Sir Caldry?” Tethys asked as he took a discreet step back.

  Cal acted as though he hadn't noticed the other man put more space between them; it was a normal response. He frightened people, and though he didn't enjoy it, he also didn't try to alleviate their fear. Most of the time their fear was needed.

  Just not today.

  Today, Cal needed to be liked, but he didn't know how. He was better at frightening people. In an effort to calm the other man, he smiled. It didn't work. Cal watched as Tethys swallowed convulsively.

  “I understand you recently procured a slave named Catrina.”

  A look of understanding flitted across Tethys' face before he schooled his features to look confused. “I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about.”