A Queen Comes to Power: An Heir Comes to Rise Book 2

by C. C. Peñaranda

  Staring at her now, Faythe’s mouth opened without words to follow. Before she could try to voice something to alleviate the tension, Jakon calling her name snapped their attention toward the cottage.

  Marlowe dropped her gaze, stepping aside. Faythe’s stomach hollowed at her blank reception.

  Inside, Jakon scanned her from head to toe, taking slow steps toward her. “Is everything okay at the castle?”

  Faythe thought she would be able to hold it together. She had hardened herself against the dagger of shame and grief to get here after all. But at his question, knowing she would have to explain her evil act, her mask fell apart instantly, breaking the dam on her emotions, which drowned her completely and all at once. She had to cover her face while she trembled with sobs, unable to look him in the eye. He was unaware of the monster behind her golden eyes.

  Jakon’s arms went around her tightly and wordlessly. Faythe cried harder and then realized she hadn’t allowed herself to release her pent-up anguish yet. She’d made herself numb to it all—until now. Her friend continued to hold her in silence while she cried hideously, smoothing down her hair. She didn’t deserve his comfort, but selfishly, she couldn’t reject it.

  “I had to do it,” her voice croaked when she calmed enough to speak. She moved with the expanse of his chest as he inhaled a deep breath.

  “I know,” Jakon replied softly.

  Though he didn’t know the specifics of what she’d done, it was as if he’d already prepared for this moment and had long forgiven her for everything that happened beyond the wall. This brought on a whole new round of trembling sobs. Jakon simply held Faythe for as long as it took for her emotions to run dry, leaving her hollow and exhausted. Then he kept her in his arms for a little longer before pulling back and taking her face in his rough palms.

  “Listen to me, Faythe. You are far stronger than the king could ever prepare for. He cannot break you. You bow to no one, submit to no one. You are a fighter. You always have been. Remember your golden heart within, because I will. Those who matter will always remember you for who you are, not what you’ve done.”

  Faythe’s eyebrows knitted together, filled with deep love and admiration for her friend and his words, which were exactly what she needed to hear. No more tears fell. With the new bout of strength and courage she absorbed from Jakon’s speech, she raised her chin, wiped her eyes, and felt ready to explain what happened, what she had been made to do, and seek their help to demand justice.

  Marlowe fixed them some tea, and they all sat at the small, crooked table so Faythe could dive in deeper and share the reason for her visit. She turned her head and almost did a double-take before beckoning Caius over sheepishly. Though she had forgotten the young fae guard who stood poised by the door, he obliged with a pleasant smile.

  “This is Caius, a friend,” she reassured Marlowe and Jakon as they cast him a wary look.

  The young guard extended an amiable greeting before taking the seat next to Faythe, who took a deep breath and rattled through the events of the previous night just to get it over with.

  After her recount of the execution, her role in it, and how she’d only done it to give the boy his only possible mercy, everyone was silent. Faythe couldn’t bear it and quickly continued, “I came because I need your help. He wasn’t alone, and the king will find and execute them all if we don’t seek them first and get them out of Farrowhold.”

  She noticed her friends casting a cautious look at Caius once again, and Faythe found herself also seeking to gauge his reaction. She hadn’t told him what she had come to do, and if the guard was caught with even the knowledge of her intention, he could be executed for treason. She suddenly felt responsible that she had practically forced his hand. Now he knew her plans even if he didn’t want to, and his only choice was to risk no one finding out or turning her in immediately.

  Caius shifted under everyone’s attention. “If I’d known you had a death wish, Faythe, I might have tried to talk you out of it,” he said. She was about to beg for his silence when he continued. “I wouldn’t like to witness another young death again. I’ll help where I can.”

  Faythe’s shoulders sagged with the reassurance he would remain on their side no matter the risk. She gave him a guilty smile and nodded in appreciation at his offer.

  Jakon turned to her then, eyes fierce as he said, “How do we find them?”

  “I recognized one: the Pierre boy. He lives just a few doors down from the hut. He’ll be able to lead you to the others.” She paused, deliberating. “Though I have no idea what to do with them from there.”

  The look on her friends’ faces suggested they were at a loss for further actions too. It would not be as easy as when they helped Reuben stow away on a ship to Lakelaria many months ago. Getting half a dozen young boys to safety, and possibly their families too, would require a much larger operation.

  To her surprise, it was Caius who offered a solution. “The king has removed the fae soldiers from Galmire. They could be safe there.”

  Faythe should have thought of it sooner. She was a key hand in getting the king the votes he needed from the lords to make his forces retreat from the bordering town.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Jakon said, giving the fae guard a nod in thanks.

  She only expected Caius to keep quiet about his knowledge of her plans. Yet on his face, she could see he cared about the fate of the remaining human boys’ lives. She was grateful for the burst of warmth in her chest that chased away some of the sadness. In the young guard, there was a glimpse of hope for a united High Farrow, undivided by race.

  “There was something else,” she began. She wasn’t sure if she should share the next piece of information as she didn’t know what it meant. “The boy mentioned one of the guards he saw who ambushed them to seek information… He said he recognized him—not as a guard from Valgard, but one from Farrowhold.” Faythe cast her gaze to Caius at first, to see if he showed any inkling he might know of any guards under Orlon’s command who could be tasked with something unimaginable. Something secret. But she felt instant relief as his expression remained just as shocked and confused as her human friends’. Caius was a loyal friend and ally, both to the prince and to her. She had no reason to distrust him.

  “I’ll see if there’s anything I can find out in the guard,” he said.

  She gave him an appreciative smile. “I know it puts you all at risk to ask, so thank you.”

  Jakon shook his head. “This is our fight too. I’m glad you came. We’ll take it from here on the outside.”

  Faythe had every confidence in them both, yet it still turned her stomach to implicate them with the risk of such danger.

  “I can get information between you both. It might look suspicious if Faythe is absent all the time, especially when the young ones suddenly go missing,” Caius said. She could have hugged him for it.

  “Thank you—truly. I wasn’t trying to force you into it.” Words of gratitude didn’t seem like enough, but it was all she could offer for now.

  Caius waved a dismissive hand, giving her a playful smile. “You didn’t. I want to help if I can.”

  With the plan settled and the rest out of her hands, Faythe stood from the table, knowing they would have to get back to the others on patrol before the length of their absence became suspicious. Everyone around the table copied her movement, and she hated that it signaled another goodbye.

  Faythe spared a single look at Marlowe, hating that time was a luxury they did not have for the unspoken issues that had formed as friction between them. Her distant blue eyes almost made Faythe wince.

  She looked between her two human friends, alive and happy, and longed for the simpler days when she was a part of their daily lives. Now, it seemed as if their paths had branched off in different directions. Yet Faythe was confident no matter what separated them for days, months, even in death…they would always find their way back to each other.

  Chapter 13

  Jakon
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br />   Jakon and Marlowe stood patiently outside the home a few doors down from the hut after knocking the front door. They were cloaked, hooded, and inconspicuous as they carried out their task to get the first of the boys on the king’s list for slaughter prepared for the trip to Galmire where they could seek refuge. They couldn’t waste any time as it was a race against the King of High Farrow, so the day after Faythe’s grim visit, they jumped straight into action.

  Though he had tried to get her to stay home, Marlowe insisted on coming along. Jakon hated to admit part of him was glad for her presence. The soft-spoken blonde would likely be a greater source of comfort and more able to break the news to the family inside.

  The door timidly creaked open, and a familiar slender brunette woman came into view. Jakon recognized her as a neighbor, though he’d had little interaction with both mother and son in all the years they’d lived on the same street. He and Faythe had a habit of keeping to themselves and limiting their contact with the townsfolk—something he felt guilty for now. However, he knew they were the only occupants of the small dwelling that looked even more impoverished than the hut. As far as he could tell, the father had never been in the picture.

  “Can we come inside?” Marlowe spoke sweetly.

  The woman instantly relaxed as her gaze flicked to the petite blonde beside him. She remained apprehensive in the doorway a little longer then gave one nod before stepping aside to let them pass.

  The run-down interior smelled of damp and dust. Jakon passed no judgment on their poor dwelling as he knew firsthand the struggles of life in this part of town. Still, his heart cracked to see an innocent woman and young boy suffer through daily life like this. He noted her son was nowhere to be seen in the small front section of the home.

  “We need to talk about your son, Kade Pierre,” he said plainly.

  At the mention of his name, the woman stiffened, and panic fell over her face.

  Jakon added, “We’re here to help.”

  She remained rigid. “He’s not here.”

  He was about to stress the urgency when a clamor sounded from a cupboard to their left. He cast a pointed looked at the woman whose eyes widened as her lie was exposed. Seeing she was already trembling in fear, he made no move to advance toward the boy’s hiding place and pull him out. Instead, he spoke softly.

  “You can trust us. Kade is in danger. I’m sure the news of his friend has reached town by now.”

  “We need to find the others,” Marlowe added gently, “everyone who was involved that night, and get you to safety. We don’t have much time.”

  Hinges creaked and footsteps sounded until a familiar young boy came into view in front of them. He went to his mother’s side as she let out a sob, pulling him into her as if she could shield him from the threat. It riled Jakon’s rage to think innocent games between young friends in the forest had turned into targets on their lives.

  “There was five of us,” the boy said in barely more than a timid whisper. “They took Sam—will they take me too?”

  Jakon was struck for a moment as the boy, who looked no older than ten, reminded him of a similar scared child he came across over a decade ago. His heart ached at the memory of Faythe, and he saw her golden eyes in place of the boy’s hazel ones. He walked over to him in two strides, kneeling to his level and pulling down his hood.

  Jakon mustered a smile. “We won’t let them.” He reached to his side and pulled out a short dagger, holding it out to the boy. “Will you help me protect the others?”

  Kade’s eyes lit up at the offer, and he reached out his small palm to wrap it around the blade’s handle. “Yes, sir,” he said with newfound confidence.

  Jakon grinned and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Good lad.” He stood. “Now, before we can begin the quest, we need supplies, don’t we?”

  The boy grinned wide, nodding enthusiastically.

  “Enough for three days’ adventure. Do you think you can do that?”

  Kade didn’t waste a second before running off to the bedroom, believing it was all part of the fun. The sight struck a chord, reminding Jakon of his younger self with Faythe by his side. It had also worked to turn fear into a playful task back then.

  With Kade out of earshot, Jakon’s face fell serious as he addressed the boy’s mother. “We’re going to get you all out of here to Galmire. You should be safe there.”

  The woman nodded solemnly but let out another sob in fear. Marlowe moved past him and put a comforting arm around her.

  “It’s a chance for a new life—a fresh start,” the blacksmith said warmly, trying to perk up her spirits.

  It worked as the woman’s sobbing ceased, and she gave a grateful smile. Marlowe led her over to the wonky dining table and went about the sparse kitchen, likely looking for what she needed to make tea.

  Jakon watched in silent admiration of her calming approach to relieving others’ distress.

  For the next half hour, they gathered all the information they needed to track down the remaining three boys. They gave Kade and his mother time to gather their provisions for the trip to Galmire they would start the following day and agreed to leave by dusk.

  The rest of the night was spent making the necessary stops at the houses of the boys in danger and repeating their plan to meet by Westland Forest. They would have to go on foot as horses and wagons would leave them too exposed in the open. He had no doubt that when the king set out to retrieve the remaining young ones and found them gone, a search patrol would be sent out for the mockery alone. It was a risk, and one he and Marlowe gladly took on to help save the lives of innocents.

  When they arrived back at the cottage, Jakon was emotionally exhausted. It was still odd to call the much more comfortable space home. Strangely, he often found himself missing the dreary confines of the hut, but with Faythe’s encouragement and Marlowe’s persuasion, he reluctantly agreed to abandon the poor wooden structure he’d shared with his dearest friend for so many years.

  “I’m so proud of you.” Marlowe’s soft voice broke through his thoughts as her slender arms went around his waist and her warmth enveloped him from behind.

  It was an instant comfort that he eased into, swiveling around to return her embrace. Her petite form fit neatly against his as he rested his chin lightly on her head.

  “You were great tonight, love,” he mumbled quietly.

  She pulled her head back, and he met her ocean-blue eyes. “It was all you. What you did for those boys…you gave them courage.”

  At the pride in her voice, Jakon’s heart swelled. He smiled gratefully, though he didn’t believe he’d instilled anything in the young ones, only encouraged what was already there. As he looked over her delicate, innocent face, his anxiety rose.

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay home tomorrow?”

  Marlowe’s soft features turned fierce. “I want to help, and I’ll only go insane with worry if I stay here.” Her warm palm went over his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. “I’m not as fragile as you think I am.”

  Everything about her stood to be admired. In a surge of passion, Jakon leaned down to press his lips to hers firmly, almost desperately, as if she could be taken from him at any moment. While he knew she was resilient and brave, he couldn’t help the need to shield her with everything he had and everything he was.

  Their lips moved together in a gentle but claiming kiss, and he felt the urgency in her response. Perhaps it was the lingering threat that would follow them like an eternal rain cloud waiting to break. Even once they got the families to safety, their own minds would never be safe.

  Marlowe removed her cloak and swiftly unlatched his too before her nimble fingers set to work on the buttons of his jacket. Their lips didn’t break apart even for a second as his hands roamed the contours of her body, and he relished the feel of her smooth, pale skin after unlacing her dress and letting it fall. They parted only for Marlowe to hoist his shirt off over his head, and then they joined again, Jakon’s hands going
to her thighs to lift her and feel their bodies pressed together.

  Pulling her head back, Marlowe cast a pointed look down at Jakon’s abdomen. He could hardly feel the tenderness of the old wound while his mind was clouded with thoughts of her. Of her body and her soul. He wanted it all.

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice a husky whisper, trailing his lips down her neck. “More than fine.” His words vibrated over the hollow spot on her throat, and her legs tightened around his waist. He smiled deviously. “I promise.”

  Marlowe tipped her head back with a soft noise. His fingers flexed on her thighs desirously at the sound. He would never grow tired of the feel of her, never stop loving the blonde who captured his heart the moment he looked into those wonder-filled eyes. Once, Jakon thought he would never come to feel for anyone other than Faythe. Then Marlowe opened his heart to a whole new, deeper kind of love he would never have had with his dearest friend. This would never truly feel right with Faythe.

  Faythe was and would always be a different kind of soul mate. To him, to Marlowe, and to many others. He realized that now.

  Jakon carried Marlowe into their new shared bedroom. If there was one thing he greatly appreciated about his new accommodation, it was the large, spacious bed. He wouldn’t miss the cramped confines of his cot at the hut.

  He lay her down on her back gently, but their need to be close to one another pulsed in a frenzy. He wanted to take his time, savor every inch of her, and appreciate each taste and sensation. Jakon kissed over her jaw, down to her collarbone, feeling the curve of her body when his lips met the space between her breasts and she arched her back. He caught one of those glorious round breasts in his palm. Everything about her—he couldn’t help but adore how perfectly she fit with him.