Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1)

by Caitlin Taylor

  “Lord Ursinus, so good to see you here,” the Prince’s voice was confident and warm.

  “Your Highness, if you would spare a few minutes, I’d be grateful to continue our previous conversation,” Lord Ursinus requested, bowing in greeting.

  “Most certainly, Ursinus. I’m intrigued to hear more of your thoughts on the matter.”

  While Ursinus and the Prince continued their conversation, Jeffrey took up a post against the wall near the door. From there he could see the entire room well and could move to any part of it quickly and easily. He could not hear the Prince’s conversation over the noise of all the other chatting attendees, but he could see him clearly enough. Watching the Prince closely and surveying the room regularly for anything suspicious, he stayed on high alert.

  The King himself arrived last, dressed in dark red robes, his gemstone encrusted crown sitting on his thick grey hair. He made an imposing sight as he entered, radiating control and dominance. Every step he took measured and unhurried but not slow. His Kingsguard trailed after him, taking up place in various corners of the room. The captain glared at Jeffrey as he passed. Taking his seat without acknowledging anyone, the King showed no indication of even noticing his son, never mind a reaction to his being there. He simply called the room to order and started the proceedings.

  Jeffrey tried to follow some of the conversation but found the political speech of vague statements and innuendos tiresome. Instead, he focused on watching the people and their reactions. He found that Lord Ursinus, whom the Prince had spoken to first, was rather more interested in what the Prince was saying and tended to agree with him more so than with the King. On the other hand, he found some of the Lords were clearly more supportive of the King. Among them though, he found a few that spoke for the King, but their manner indicated that they did so, not because they agreed but for other reasons.

  Lord Lucioni for one seemed quite weary, his eyes drifting to his advisor frequently. Something made Jeffrey suspect his opinion differed from that of everyone on his council. Lord Cassius spent a lot of time not talking at all and while the few words he spoke seemed to be supporting the King, Jeffrey sensed this was largely to avoid conflict. Every time the Prince spoke, Lord Cassius listened quite attentively and seemed in agreement, even if he did not voice it.

  Jeffrey wondered if the Prince and Ignacio noticed these things. He suspected not, as they were fully engaged in the conversation and listening intently to what was being said rather than watching the other men.

  After a while of watching, Jeffrey realised that the King spent a good deal of time watching his son. While he didn’t show any emotions, Jeffrey sensed his displeasure. Whether it was what the Prince was saying or simply his presence, or both, he could not say. He could also tell though that while the Prince did a good job engaging his audience, he was tiring fast. He hoped the other people in the room couldn’t tell.

  With his gaze on the Prince, Jeffrey sensed nothing else. He could not tell if the Prince was sincere or not if he leaned more towards one way or another. He was like a blank sheet of parchment. There was nothing. Did that have something to do with Jeffrey’s reactions being volatile around the Prince?

  When the meeting was eventually called to an end, the King stood first to leave the room. “Akoni, would you walk with me a bit?” he asked on his way out of the room.

  The Prince had little choice but to agree. Excusing himself from the men he was talking to, he followed the King. Both Jeffrey and Ignacio in pursuit, though at a distance, only just able to hear the men talking.

  “You seemed a little weary in there, everything okay?” the King asked.

  “I’m fine, thank you for your concern, father.”

  “We should get together more often I’m thinking.”

  “I would not presume that you could fit it into your schedule, your time is much too precious.”

  “A father should always have time for his son.”

  “Not when he is King. Your Majesty, your priority must be your Empire.”

  “You worry too much, Akoni. Taking Trevino’s seat after his death should have helped.”

  “And it has, father. As you have pointed out to me yourself. I am young yet. Give me time. Now, I will bid you good night.” Akoni bowed, then headed off down a different hallway.

  The three men walked in silence, the Prince setting the pace. At first, he walked fast, but as they increased the distance to the King, or in fact other people, he gradually slowed down. Ignacio walked next to him, an arm wrapped around him, casually and innocently, yet enough to be able to support him. The Prince gave him a grateful look.

  Jeffrey trailed behind; the King’s words had jarred him. For the second time in a matter of days he’d heard the name Trevino. A name he knew well but had not heard in many years. Was it true? Was the Lord dead? It couldn’t be. The thoughts in his mind were tumbling over each other, too many to be clear. What was he going to do? What could he do, considering he couldn’t leave, not unless he received a new assignment from his commanders.

  Once they reached the Prince’s quarters and had closed the door, the Prince collapsed on top of his bed and sighed in relief.

  “I won’t ask how you’re feeling, you’re obviously exhausted,” Ignacio said. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You mean aside from creating a miracle that lets me ascend the throne now?”

  “Aside from that, yes,” Ignacio replied wryly.

  “Some more of that pain-numbing tea would be nice.”

  “I’ll get it,” Jeffrey offered and went to the bathroom, where the tray with tea stood on the heated floor.

  “So, are you going to sleep in your clothes or would you like some help?”

  “Just give me a minute...” The Prince mumbled, waving a hand dismissively.

  “For Tempesta’s sake, no need to be shy,” Ignacio said and started with taking the Prince’s boots off.

  Jeffrey returned with tea and handed it to the Prince, who was now lying under the covers.

  “Thank you,” the Prince said, gratitude written in his blue eyes.

  “You’re welcome, Your Highness. Unless there’s anything else I can do, I guess I’ll take up my post outside.”

  “You’ve done more than enough today. Thank you again, Jeffrey.”

  Jeffrey gave a smile and a nod then headed out.

  Chapter 9

  Over the next few days, their relationship gradually improved. The Prince became nicer, his tone less callous and cold, his gestures more open. Jeffrey saw the Prince in a new light since the events with the King, allowing him to be more open in return.

  Instead of the Prince ignoring Jeffrey and Jeffrey giving only what was strictly required, they started having conversations. It started with greetings and developed into more from there. One of those conversations was about the Prince asking Jeffrey to stand guard inside whatever room the Prince happened to be in, rather than being outside. It had in fact been his wish since the day of their fight. Jeffrey pointed out how he had not phrased that request before, giving Jeffrey no way of knowing it. A misunderstanding cleared up, another step taken towards each other.

  The Prince gradually regained his strength, meetings no longer exhausting him quite as badly as they did at first. One had to watch very carefully to still see the signs of fatigue in him.

  ***

  Three servants came to the Prince’s study one afternoon, carrying trays laid heavily with a variety of different dishes. Jeffrey watched them in silence. They laid the trays out on a table, the Prince focused on the letters and reports he was working on, ignoring them completely. On their way out of the room, one of the servants dared to stop and look at the Prince, a slight crease on his forehead. The Prince was still focusing on his papers.

  Jeffrey caught the servant’s eye and winked. The boy gave a little smile and hushed out of the room.

  The Prince finished his work and leaned back to stretch, groaning as his muscles protested. “How do you
do it? Standing still for hours.”

  “Practise, Your Highness,” Jeffrey said and shrugged.

  The Prince nodded and went to the other table. “Would you sit and have lunch with me?”

  “I don’t believe that would be appropriate, Your Highness.”

  “And who cares?” the Prince asked with an exhausted sigh. “The servants are gone, they won’t be back until after I’m done. They know better than to disturb my lunch breaks.”

  “They are afraid of you because of the way you treat them, you do realise?”

  “Yes, it’s an unfortunate need I have at this time. It’s better that they are afraid than the alternative.” The Prince sighed, fingers massaging his temples.

  “You really are doing it on purpose,” Jeffrey said in realisation.

  “You’re finally starting to understand then. Now, will you please sit?”

  Jeffrey hesitated another moment but then joined the Prince at the table. “Why?” he asked, adjusting his sword as he sat.

  “For your own safety, I can’t answer that. Have some food.” The Prince moved one of the dishes closer to Jeffrey, who nodded and helped himself. For a time, they sat eating in silence. “I hope you don’t hate being my guard too much.”

  “I’m sorry?” Jeffrey said, believing he’d heard wrong.

  “No, I am. I do realise I’m not easy to work with. My life’s a bit more complicated than gossip would have you believe.”

  Jeffrey stayed silent for a while contemplating his answer. In the beginning, he had hated being a guard to the Prince, loathed it even, as he had the Prince himself. But if he allowed himself to be honest, something had changed. He’d seen glimpses of the Prince that were different to what he had expected, in fact, they appeared to be the opposite to what rumours would have one believe. “I don’t hate being your guard. I’ve certainly had worse assignments. You are confusing to deal with though, Your Highness.”

  The Prince grinned. “If confusing is the worst of it, that would be quite alright I think.”

  “May I ask you something, Your Highness?”

  “Now is the time, though I can’t promise I’ll be able to answer.”

  “You said that it was because of me that you haven’t been able to defend in your fighting practice. What did you mean?”

  “Does it trouble you to think I can’t fight?” the Prince asked in return.

  Jeffrey raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing.

  The Prince held up a hand appeasingly. “I don’t know if I can answer.”

  “Try,” Jeffrey demanded.

  Their eyes locked, sky blue meeting sea green. “You are...” the Prince trailed off and chuckled. His gaze went to his hand, flexing it. “My magic seems to react to you. It means I can feel you.”

  “Your magic?”

  “I’m certain you’ve heard. The royal family was bestowed a gift by the Goddess a long time ago. A gift that’s passed on down the line.” He picked up a pastry from a tray and bit into it.

  “Adriano’s reward for unifying the land and bringing peace... But no one has seen any magic in centuries.”

  “Except you did.”

  “After the King summoned you.”

  The Prince nodded and took another bite from his pastry.

  “Does he use the same spell on you?”

  Cocking his head to the side, the Prince appraised him in silence for a time. His pastry finished, he licked his fingers clean, then used a cloth to wipe them. “You’re dangerously perceptive. For your own sake, you should never talk of these things.”

  “Not even to you?” Jeffrey asked, his gaze still pinned on the Prince’s slender fingers. Watching them slipping past lush lips had sent a spark through Jeffrey. It didn’t seem to be as unwelcome as it used to be.

  “Too many walls have ears.”

  “You’re not what I expected, you know.”

  “Oh?” A smirk played on the Prince’s lips, a delicate eyebrow raised.

  “Never mind, we shouldn’t talk of these things.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then the Prince started laughing so hard he nearly fell off the couch. Jeffrey watched, the corners of his mouth curled.

  “You’re not what I expected either,” the Prince said at length, still breathless. “Maybe you’re beginning to understand. I’m the heir apparent and there are certain expectations of me. I don’t much like it, but this is how it must be…for now.”

  “I’m not coming to like politics.”

  “Few would. But maybe it means you can judge me a little less now.”

  “I don’t judge—”

  The Prince held up a hand. “I saw it in your eyes that first day. While I don’t hold it against you, I would prefer if it wasn’t so. Trust is earned, however, and I guess I haven’t given much reason for it. I’m in a very difficult situation that I cannot explain. It limits what I’m able to do in ways I can’t begin to describe.”

  Jeffrey nodded. “I guess this is what can make you so confusing to work for.”

  The Prince smiled wryly in response.

  ***

  The door opened without noise. Careful to be quiet, Jeffrey stepped through and closed it. The faintest clicking could be heard. Jeffrey cringed and paused but received no reaction. A smile formed as he watched the sleeping form. Slow steps took him towards the bed.

  The sleeping form shifted, and an arm lifted the blanket in invitation.

  “Really?” Jeffrey groaned.

  “You will never be able to sneak up on me while I sleep, Tiras,” Kieron said with a chuckle, his sleepy gaze fixed on Jeffrey.

  “Apparently,” he sighed, accepted the invitation and got into bed, shuffling close and taking Kieron into his arms. The redhead rested his head on Jeffrey’s chest and sighed in contentment.

  “Best way I’ve ever been woken. Don’t stop trying.”

  Jeffrey chuckled. “I’d love that. I’m afraid today will be the last time.”

  “Why?” Kieron lifted his head a little, blue eyes peering at Jeffrey.

  “I’ve moved in next door. As of tomorrow, I’ll be doing full shifts. There won’t be time for us to meet other than at shift changes.” Jeffrey’s voice was gentle, trying to ease the blow. Kieron’s face fell nonetheless, and he turned away, hiding it in Jeffrey’s chest. Jeffrey raised a hand, running his fingers through Kieron’s hair, the red strands soft under his touch.

  “Well, we should make use of today then.”

  “That’s why I came early.”

  “And you saved time by leaving your armour, could have left the tunic too.”

  Jeffrey laughed. “You are as eager as ever. I don’t think some cloth will stop you.”

  “No, it won’t.” As if to prove his point, Kieron’s hand ran up Jeffrey’s thigh, finding its way underneath the tunic.

  ***

  A full week had passed since the events with the King when the Prince asked Jeffrey to join him. “Would you sit and have a chat with me? There’s coffee too.” The Prince gestured at the couch across from him.

  “Am I in trouble?” Jeffrey asked as he took a seat opposite the Prince and helped himself to coffee, wondering when and how this had become such a regular occurrence that he no longer even tried to object.

  The Prince chuckled. “Quite the opposite in fact. You see, you are the first of my personal guard to get involved in the events with my father. I was, and am, truly grateful for your help as I have said many times. However, I fully expected you to tell the story. Whether to other soldiers, servants, whores, it doesn’t matter who. Once a story gets out it spreads, and this would be a wildfire. As of today, a full week after the fact, I’ve not heard a single rumour, question, concern, or any hint that would indicate that you shared your knowledge.”

  “That’s because I didn’t, Your Highness.”

  “I see that now. I wish to apologise. I don’t trust easy, you had given me no cause, and yet I didn’t trust you. I am sorry.”

  “Your Highness,
aside from keeping you safe, part of the job is to keep your confidence, to be discreet, to not share any privileged information. I’m only doing my job.”

  “You’re an honourable man, Jeffrey. That’s a rareness among your kind. None of my previous personal guards shared this value.”

  “Except Kieron.”

  “He too is rare. Night shifts are easier though. At least in one regard, he would see and hear less of value. Being up all night probably isn’t easy...”

  “He’s been loyal.”

  The Prince’s blue eyes froze on Jeffrey. “There’s something you want to say. Speak your mind, Jeffrey.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “He’s from the north. A Clansman. His record during the Long War was exemplary so he was recommended for service at the palace. I was lucky to get him.”

  “What’s the last time you think he went home?”

  The Prince frowned but didn’t speak.

  “How old was he when he was recruited into the legion? How long has he served you?” Jeffrey asked, knowing full well that the Prince would not have the answers to these questions.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “You speak with me like I’m your equal almost. What’s the last time you spoke to him?”

  “Jeffrey.”

  “I’m trying to point out that you treat people differently. Whatever your reasons are. You know nothing of Kieron. If you wanted to do something for the people, maybe you should start by talking to them. Finding out their needs and wants. He’s been so loyal to you, yet you know nothing of him. You’ve struck him before. Do you even remember it?”

  The Prince’s frown deepened. “I remember.”