Burdened Bloodline

by Sarah E. Burr

  She debated whether it was a good idea to turn her attention to Philippe, but could not resist the lure of her curiosity.

  The venom surging through his violet eyes made her hips jolt. Blue and green veins bulged from his crimson forehead and neck, as if he was actually choking on his anger. She regretted her decision as soon as he locked vicious eyes on her.

  “You did this,” he hissed, fracturing the hush that had ascended over the table.

  The Duke gripped his fork and knife with vigor. “There’s no one to blame here, boy, but yourself.”

  Elias’s gaze went from his brother to his father, then back to his brother. “What does this mean? Would I inherit the throne?”

  The crack of Philippe’s neck snapping toward Elias was audible. “Shut up!”

  Cornelius’s expression filled Jax with a sense of foreboding. “The Code of Succession means I’d get to handpick my successor, regardless of birth order.”

  She could have sworn she saw the Duke’s eyes flicker toward Galahad. Had that been what they’d been talking about earlier? Galahad seems the least surprised out of anyone here.

  “Well, if Philippe doesn’t get the throne, who would?” Kaul asked, shifting warily against the arm of his chair.

  Cornelius steepled his fingers together. “I haven’t made a decision. I haven’t even decided if invoking the Code is the right thing to do.” His eyes rested on his eldest son and heir. “Perhaps all Philippe needs is some sense knocked into him.”

  The Crown Prince was still staring intently at Jax. She could practically feel him burning holes in her flesh with the fiery heat in his eyes. “You did this to me.”

  In an instant, he lunged across the table, fist balled, ready to attack. Perry’s arm stretched across her chest, pushing her chair back as he positioned himself between her and his brother. George, moving faster than she thought humanly possible, hurtled out of his seat and over to Philippe, his hands finding a rough hold on the Crown Prince’s tunic.

  “You will pay for this, Duchess!” Philippe screeched in the struggle. “I will ruin you.”

  Ivan joined in the fray, helping George wrestle the raving man to the ground.

  “Control yourself, boy!” Cornelius pounded the table. “Virtues, you wonder why I think you’re unfit to lead? You’ve just tried to assault another sovereign!”

  “Father, please, you have to lock Philippe away.” Anxiety bled from Perry. “For Jax’s safety.”

  The disappointment in Cornelius’s eyes cracked Jax’s heart. She ached for the man. This had to be a crushing blow for him, for his legacy. “Very well. Ivan, take him to his quarters and lock him in.”

  “Your Excellency, this man just threatened the life of your strongest ally.” George visibly struggled to keep his tone respectful. “Surely, the dungeons are more appropriate.”

  Cornelius’s gaze narrowed. “Do not question my judgment within the walls of my own home, Captain Solomon. Escort my son to his chambers, now.”

  Philippe yanked hard against the fierce grips of Ivan and George, snarling at the seated guests. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant, Duchess.”

  George punched the prince square on the jaw. “Utter one more threat against my sovereign, and it will be your last.”

  “Captain Solomon!” Jax warned. “That’s enough.” A mixture of terror and dread about this unraveling situation mingled in her hard glare, and George forced a covert nod.

  The Duke pushed back the sleeves of his tunic and scooped another forkful of the salad off his plate, as if suddenly unaware his world was crumbling around him.

  George and Ivan dragged Philippe from the room, the Crown Prince’s howls muffled by the condemning slam of the double doors.

  In the eerie stillness that followed, Jax realized the pain shooting through her arm was coming from the clenched grip of Perry’s hand. Wriggling out of his stunned grasp, she smoothed back his ruffled curls. “Darling, are you all right?”

  “Are you?” he croaked. “You’re the one who was nearly attacked.”

  “I’m fine, thanks to you.” She gave his thigh a discreet squeeze, wishing they were alone to talk about what had just happened. Instead, she had a room full of speechless people to deal with.

  Cornelius continued to munch on the leafy greens, completely unfazed by the chaos they’d just experienced. No one else had moved, still frozen in their seats.

  “Why isn’t anybody eating? It’s late. You all must be hungry.” Cornelius waved in the dining staff, who entered carrying trays filled with juicy, steaming steaks.

  Kaul’s brow furrowed. “Father, how do you expect us to eat after what just happened?”

  Duke Pettraud swallowed his last bite of raw spinach as his salad plate was cleared away and replaced with a sizzling slab of meat. “What do you mean?”

  Kaul scoffed. “Philippe losing his mind over your Code of Succession proposal?”

  “Losing his mind?”

  A cold ripple of panic pulsed through Jax as she heard the confusion in her father-in-law’s question.

  “He just tried to attack Duchess Jacqueline!” Kaul cried.

  Perry gritted his teeth. “She could have been seriously wounded.”

  Cornelius darted a disoriented gaze between his sons. “What in the Virtues are you talking about? Philippe isn’t even here.”

  “Father, he exploded after you announced you were thinking about invoking the Code of Succession.” Even Elias couldn’t keep the concern from his brooding expression.

  Duke Pettraud’s face darkened. “What? I’m only just beginning to consider invoking the Code…” His wild eyes landed on Jax. Baring his teeth at her, he hissed, “Did you tell them?”

  Perry’s voice edged toward hysteria. “What are you going on about, Father? You announced it to the whole table just moments ago!”

  Cornelius’s roar was thunderous. “Silence! I won’t have you pitting yourselves against one another. I never should have considered your recommendation, Jacqueline.” The Duke rose with vengeful grace and retreated from the room.

  “So, it was your suggestion.” Elias glared at her accusingly.

  Perry sputtered. “Never mind that, Eli. Are we just going to ignore Father’s completely delusional?”

  Kaul stroked his chin. “It’s like he completely forgot what he just witnessed.”

  Sabine trembled as she spoke out. “Lenora, could stress have caused this?”

  Lenora appeared equally troubled. “I’ve never even heard of anything like this before. He seemed entirely present when he ordered Philippe to be locked away.”

  “How could he just forget?” Kaul asked, tension pulsing in his veined neck.

  Lenora shifted under his anxious gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I must research this further.”

  “Whatever your findings are,” Elias said, “we need to figure out if Father still plans to invoke the Code.”

  Galahad cleared his throat. “I think he wants to, at least, he did earlier. He conferred with me about the process.”

  Shavon, who had remained resolute and stoic during all the unfolding drama, suddenly sprang to life. “That doesn’t seem like a conversation the Duke should be having with a low-ranking courtier. If he was serious, he would have spoken to me about it.”

  Galahad cocked his head. “He wasn’t speaking to me as a courtier. He asked me whether or not I’d be prepared to lead Pettraud, should it be required of me.”

  “You?” Elias growled. “I’m the second son. The throne should revert to me.”

  Jax was hesitant to enter into the fray, considering the part she’d already played in instigating this mess. “The Code of Succession dictates if the rightful, firstborn heir is declared unfit to rule by a nation’s sovereign or predeceases said sovereign, it is up to the ruling Duke or Duchess to bestow their throne to a worthy successor. If the Code is invoked, birth order and bloodlines no longer matter. The sovereign simply gets to choose his or her heir.”

&
nbsp; “What kind of rule is that?” Elias snapped.

  She did not flinch. “One that is rarely put into action. It is tradition for birth order to determine the line of succession, but it is not a set rule in the realm. Being heir to the throne is only the birthright of a firstborn child.” Her grandfather, the Duke of Mensina, had been the first to use the long-forgotten bylaw in decades, when Jax and Duke Mensina had made the mutual decision for his crown to pass to one of Jax’s aunts, rather than to Jax herself. Jax’s mother had been the rightful heir to the Mensina throne, and upon her death, the mantle had passed to Jax as her firstborn child. Jax had relinquished her claim, using it as a bargaining chip during the peace summit in Lysandeir last winter, giving Duke Mensina the power to select one of his other daughters as his heir.

  The creaking of the double doors pulled everyone’s attention to the entrance. Ivan and George reappeared, looking even more disheveled than they had when they’d left.

  “Philippe put up quite the fight,” George murmured, wiping fingers across his cheek.

  “Goodness, you’re bleeding!” Sabine rushed to his side, pressing her napkin against his temple.

  He winced at the pressure. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  Ivan surveyed the strained expressions surrounding the table. “Where is Father?”

  “He’s excused himself for the night,” Galahad said, tapping his finger against his goblet. “Right after he accused us of making up Philippe’s outburst.”

  “What?” Ivan and George simultaneously exclaimed.

  Sabine dabbed at George’s wound, her lips pursing with displeasure. “This is actually quite deep. I think you need to be patched up.”

  Lenora rose from her chair, but Sabine waved her hand. “Don’t worry, Lennie, I can handle this. Come, Captain, let’s get that gash cleaned.”

  George hesitated, looking to Jax for instruction. He was clearly torn between leaving her and tending to his own injuries.

  “That looks serious, George,” she said. “You’re no use to me if you don’t have any blood left in you.” She managed a dry smile. “Philippe is locked away. I’m probably the safest I’ve been since we arrived.”

  The Captain’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment before following Sabine’s slender figure out of the dining hall.

  “What’s this about Father?” Ivan asked, his tone clipped.

  Kaul rested his head in his hands. “After you took Philippe away, he acted like nothing had happened.”

  “I don’t think that was acting,” Galahad remarked. “He genuinely believed we were making up the fight.”

  “With whatever illness he has been battling, the stress of the night probably got to him,” Jax said, trying to soothe the fears bubbling up around the dinner table. “I’m sure he’ll be back in top form in the morning.” She plastered a confident smile on her face.

  Perry’s fingers drummed the table. “I hope you’re right. Otherwise, who knows where the throne of Pettraud stands.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Perry’s sobering words left everyone without their appetites, and the group dissolved shortly after. Jax, relieved to finally be alone with her husband, hurried him back to their suite so they could talk in private.

  Perry plopped down on the large window seat, leaning his head against the cool glass. “Maybe I’ll wake up to find this was all a bad dream.”

  She paced the length of the room. “Darling, I’m afraid we have to face the music. Something is terribly wrong with your father.” Jax stopped moving, clasping her hands behind her back. “If he doesn’t remember Philippe’s actions in the morning, our safety here could be threatened. What if he decides to free Philippe from his confinement? Even if the Duke forgets his decision to invoke the Code, Philippe certainly won’t let it slide that I put the idea in your father’s head.”

  Perry rubbed the back of his neck. “We’d have to leave right away, for your protection. Perhaps Ivan could afford us a few guardsmen to assist getting you back to Saphire. But you’re right. If Philippe goes free, your life is in danger. He made that very clear tonight.” He moved toward her, grimacing, as if his whole body ached. “I’m so sorry about all this…my screwed-up family.”

  She cupped his chin. “This is not your fault.”

  He backed away from her. “I should have known something was wrong with Father. He’s despised me my whole life, and yet, I didn’t think anything of it when he came to our wedding…said he was proud of me. I should have known right then and there he was losing his mind.”

  Jax reached for him again. “Perry, that’s not true, and you know it. Your father meant those words, of that I have no doubt. There’s a dark force at work here. You are not to blame.”

  He rubbed the moisture away from his eyes. “What do we do? What does this mean for Saphire and Pettraud?”

  Jax shushed him, wrapping her arms around his quivering frame. “We wait. We wait for morning and see what challenges it brings us.”

  ‡

  The evasive sunlight tickled her eyelids, coaxing Jax from her murky dreams. She rolled over, greeted by Perry’s faraway gaze as he sat propped against a throng of pillows.

  “Did you get any sleep?” she asked, examining the dark circles encompassing his eyes.

  A grim smile tugged at his lips. “Does it look like I did?”

  Sitting upright, she buried her face in his bare chest. “You should have taken a sleeping draft or something.” Her fingers traced the indents of his muscles. “You may need your strength today.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He untangled himself from her embrace and climbed out of bed. “I just need to put some food in my stomach. I didn’t eat much last night.”

  Her own stomach grumbled in agreement. “None of us did.”

  After tying his linen trousers and tossing on a long-sleeved tunic, he held a hand out to pull her from the mess of sheets and pillows. “Did you manage to get some rest? You need it more than me.”

  Selecting a mossy green gown, she answered as she dressed. “I did. I think I was so overwhelmed by everything, my brain gave out.”

  A light chuckle danced over her husband’s lips, and he pressed a deep kiss against her neck. “Then I shall pull my strength from you, my love.” Their hands laced together, they left their suite with dragging footsteps. Upon entering the long hallway, Jax spied George hurrying in their direction.

  “Good morning,” she said with as much cheer as she could muster, only to realize George did not look entirely happy to see her. In fact, the startled expression racing across his face was one of…could it be…embarrassment?

  “Greetings.” Clasping his hands behind his back, he bowed his head. Jax immediately noticed he still wore the same suit from last night. Drops of dried blood from his head wound left evidence across his collar, with a multitude of wrinkles creasing every available surface.

  Perry issued a friendly wave. “Are you just returning to your room? You weren’t standing guard over Philippe all night, were you?”

  A muscle in the Captain’s jaw twitched, inadvertently shifting the bandage covering part of his forehead. “I am just getting back. I’ll freshen up and be down to breakfast shortly.”

  He was gone before Jax realized he hadn’t directly answered Perry’s question.

  Perry shot her a bewildered look. “That was odd. I don’t think I’ve ever seen George look so…disheveled before.”

  Jax stared after the closed door the Captain of the Ducal Guard had vanished behind. “Should we wait for him?”

  “He said he’d meet us downstairs. I dare say he can find his way.” With his hand on the small of her back, Perry guided her along the somewhat familiar route to the banquet hall. Based on the wrinkle assaulting the bridge of his nose, Jax guessed he was trying to bury annoyance with her, but before she could summon the courage to ask why, Ivan appeared in their purview, carrying a tray.

  “Since when does a Captain of the Ducal Guard provid
e breakfast in bed?” Jax teased as she eyed the toast and muffin assortment.

  Ivan did not crack a smile. “This is for Philippe.”

  “Oh.” Her humor fizzled in her chest.

  “Need a hand?” Perry stretched his arms out in offering. “I must say, it would give me some peace of mind to see him locked away for myself.”

  Ivan tilted his head to the side. “Does the same go for you, Duchess? I would have thought the word of Captain Solomon would have been enough.”

  Jax’s insides frosted at the thought of seeing Philippe’s hate-filled gaze. “I’ll just wait outside the door while you tend to your brother.”

  “Brother,” Ivan scoffed. “He doesn’t deserve the title.” He placed the tray into Perry’s outstretched arms and led them through another hallway, up a long, winding set of stairs.

  They arrived at a guarded archway at the top of the landing. Upon seeing the four soldiers in rigid stances, Jax realized this was the first time she’d really seen any guards visible inside the castle walls.

  “This is the entrance to the royal tower,” Perry murmured.

  She nodded her understanding as they strolled past the guards. “Has the Duke awakened?” Jax asked Ivan, a tremor in her words.

  He shook his head. “Father hasn’t made an appearance yet. We’re all eagerly awaiting to see what he remembers from last night’s fiasco.”

  “Ivan,” Perry growled with urgency, “if Father demands Philippe’s release, I need a way to get Jax out of here.”

  His brother stopped short. “Rest assured I will give you and the Duchess whatever aid you need, but also, know that we aren’t simply going to cower to Father’s will. He made it very clear last night that something is seriously wrong with his ability distinguish reality.”

  “But what can you do?” Jax placed a comforting hand on her brother-in-law’s forearm. “There are very few ways to remove a sovereign from the throne by force.”