The Third Son (26 page)

“It troubles me already, seeing you this way. Please tell me.” She looked up at him earnestly, her eyes searching his for some reason behind his troubled state.

“Lionus has warned me that when he becomes king he would try to stop me from marrying you.”

“Can he do that?” she gasped, holding Damien tighter as if Lionus’ phantom presence had appeared to drag him away from her. 

“My father has the right to choose a bride for me,” Damien replied calmly, stroking her hair. “When Lionus becomes king that right will become his. He could choose a wife for me and I would be powerless to stop him.”

“But surely Isabelle
...
”
             

“
...
will not be able to persuade him otherwise. When Lionus has made up his mind, he can be quite unyielding.”

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“He chafes at the idea of my marrying a Gypsy dancer.”

Esmeralda had known her lineage would be a problem. She had tried to warn Damien, knowing that this sort of thing was bound to happen.

“I know you tried to warn me,” he said, and Esmeralda wondered if she had spoken her thoughts aloud. “But I refuse to let my brother come between us. My father has already approved and until Lionus is king there is nothing he can do to stop us. Once Lionus returns from his honeymoon trip with Isabelle, they will be crowned king and queen.”

“Then we shall simply have to get married before then.”

Damien breathed a sigh of relief. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that, love.” He crushed her fiercely against his chest. “We’ll have to elope as soon as possible. I can make arrangements to have it done in a few days. It won’t be the wedding I could have given you, but we’ll be together.”

Esmeralda placed a finger over Damien’s lips and smiled. “Damien, I am a simple girl. I don’t need a lavish wedding. I just want you.”

“And I you,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against her ear. He circled her waist with his hands and lifted her to the stone railing of the balcony. His hands found the sash of the dressing gown at her waist and untied it. He pulled the garment from her shoulders, finding her naked underneath. 

Damien
sank to his knees before her, lavishing her body with kisses as he went. He parted her legs and pulled her slowly forward to meet his waiting mouth. His nostrils widened as he took in her soft woman’s scent. Esmeralda’s eyes slid closed and moaned at the first touch of his lips against her. When his tongue flicked out to taste her, she cried out and laced her fingers through his hair. He held her captive with his hands at her hips, devouring her womanly flesh, delighted at the sweet taste of her.
Damien
teased her with the gentle strokes of his tongue, drawing out the exquisite torture.

She trembled in his hands and begged him to take her, but he continued as he was, waiting for the moment he knew was drawing near. When she threw her head back and shattered the silent morning with her climactic screams, he rose to his feet and entered her, bringing her long legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him feverishly, her hips moving against his.

The sun had begun its slow ascent on the horizon and Damien was in awe of Esmeralda’s beauty against the backdrop of orange and purple sky. A fiery glow kissed her skin and made her eyes shimmer like brilliant gold. He felt as if he held a glowing ember in his hands; he expected her to burst into flame at any moment. They reached the height of their desire together, his low groans rising up to mingle with her soft sighs of delight on the chill air of the swiftly arriving dawn.

****

“Lionus has disappointed me greatly. I would have thought he would be more reasonable about this.” 

Damien sat at his father’s bedside. He’d just finished telling Adare of Lionus’ plans to prevent his marriage. Adare was outraged. He sat amongst the bedcovers, his eyes bright with fury. “I won’t stand for it,” he continued. “I am still king until he returns from his honeymoon, and if necessary I will postpone Lionus’ coronation until the deed is done!”

“There is no need for such drastic action, father. We intend to elope as soon as the arrangements have been made.”

Adare smiled, grasping Damien’s hand tightly in his. “That’s my boy. If only I’d had the courage to do what you are doing. My life would have been drastically different.”

Damien frowned. He knew his parents had not been exactly happy in their marriage, but he had never heard his father actually express any regrets
aloud
. Adare and Alexandra simply tolerated each other
. T
heir marriage had been arranged.

“I once loved a woman more than life itself,” Adare continued. His hold on Damien’s hand slackened. “I find that even now I love her still. I should have carried her away and made her my wife as you plan to do. But I let my duty to the crown come between us and married your mother instead, as my father commanded.”

“Would you do things differently now if you had the chance?” Damien asked, knowing that without Alexandra, he would never have been born, but also knowing that his father would have lived a much happier life with the woman he’d loved. Adare smiled.

“My boy, I would change nothing. From your mother I have been given three beautiful sons to carry on my name and my family’s legacy. That is more than most men receive from an arranged marriage. I can only use my experience to advise you, Damien. I can tell you that you will regret it until your dying day if you do not follow your heart and make Esmeralda your wife. You may marry another and you may even find contentment in your life. But you would always wonder what your life could have been.”

Damien knew his father was right. He knew now more than ever that he was making the right decision. It did not matter what Lionus did or said to try to stop him, Damien would make Esmeralda his wife.

“Thank you father. Your words have given me the resolve I need to carry through with my plans. Knowing that you are on my side makes all the difference in the world.”

“It is my pleasure son, to see the man you have become. I only wish Lionus could be more like you.”

Damien’s brows shot up in surprise. No one had ever described his brother as lacking in any capacity. In fact, Damien had been told numerous times that he should endeavor to be more like Lionus. “Surely you don’t mean that, father.”

“I do,” said Adare. “Lionus is a strong leader. He is strong and unwavering, proud and sure. He will make a good king, but he could be a great king, as I suspect you would be were you in his place.”

Damien shook his head. “Father, you are mistaken. Lionus is more fit to be king than anyone. Were the crown left in my hands I would let it fall to the next in line. Such a thing is not meant for me.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. You are passionate
,
fiercely loyal
,
generous and kind and you lack the arrogance that so defines Lionus’ character.
I believe y
ou would rule Cardenas fairly and with a heart for the people. I am not sure yet that your brother understands how to do that. This is why the two of you must learn to abide each other. Once I am gone, he will need someone to remind him that a king’s first duties are always to his people. That is where you come in.”

Damien watched his father in silent awe. He had never imagined that his father felt this way. To think that Adare thought him more fit to be king than his own heir! He found the idea preposterous, but kept his thoughts to himself out of respect for the old man. “I should be going now, father. You need to rest and I have to make arrangements.”

“Have you purchased a ring yet?”

“No. That is my first order of business, actually.”

Adare tossed the covers aside and eased his legs over the side of the bed. He strained mightily to lift himself to his feet.

“Father, where are you going? You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Adare dismissed Damien’s concern with a wave of his hand and crossed the room, his white sleeping gown billowing around his emaciated frame. “Nonsense. I’m as spry as ever!” He walked over to a large, locked chest, retrieving the key from his wardrobe as he went.
King Adare
dropped to his knees before the unlocked trunk and rifled around in it for a moment before producing a large, flat box. He shuffled back to the bed, huffing and panting with exhaustion. A wide smile stretched across his face. “These belonged to my mother. I think you will find that they suit your fiancé to perfection.”

Damien opened the box to find a ring, earrings, and necklace cushioned against black velvet. The yellow topaz stones sparkled up at him, reminding him of Esmeralda’s eyes. He could imagine her wearing the sparkling gems, perhaps at a ball or dinner party. Her smile would be lush and her eyes would sparkle to match the jewels around her throat. He imagined undressing her at the end of the night, taking her to bed wearing only the vibrant topaz. He looked up at his father, his eyes filled with gratitude.

“They are perfect. I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Adare smiled, allowing Damien to settle him back into the bed and tuck the bedcovers all around him. “Give her the ring now and the rest as a wedding gift. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Damien pressed a kiss to the old man’s forehead and hugged him tightly. “I’ll bring Esmeralda to visit you soon, hopefully as my wife.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

Damien walked from his father’s chambers, lighter than he had been when he’d entered. His steps were jaunty and he whistled happily. The black velvet box containing the topaz jewelry was clutched tightly in his hand.

****

The king’s chambers were dark and smelled of medicines and herbs. A few candles were lit at Adare’s bedside, bathing the dying man in a soft yellow glow. It had not been difficult for the masked man to climb the ivy-covered trellis to the balcony, where he stood now, watching King Adare fight f
or his last breath. That night
, when the king’s evening meal had been brought to him, his fate had been sealed. 

It had been so easy, ensuring that a lethal poison found its way into the man’s food. It was so brilliant, he could hardly believe he had not thought of it before. His first attempts had been clumsily executed failures but now, he would taste the very beginning of this sweet revenge.

The man who’d sold him the poison assured him that its affects would take hold within hours. The fatally ill king would not be strong enough to fight it. The guards for the night shift were changing places with the afternoon guards just outside the doors. He knew he could be discovered at any moment, but he also knew he would only be there for a few moments. The time for Adare’s death was at hand.

He stood at the foot of the king’s bed, watching him struggle and fight for breath as the poison worked its way through his body. The doctors had come and gone earlier, declaring him to be no worse off than he had been before. They expected him to live at least another year now that he had given up the duties of ruling a kingdom. How surprised they would be to find him dead in the morning, the masked man thought with glee. 

Adare trembled mightily, unable to control the shudders that racked his body. Sweat dampened the bed sheets and poured from his brow, plastering his thin gray hair to his forehead. He opened his eyes and found the masked man standing at the foot of his bed. Fear flickered briefly in the emerald green depths, along with confusion.

“Am I dreaming?” he said, his voice barely discernible in the ominous room. “Or are you the angel of death, come to take my soul from this wretched body?”

“You are not dreaming,” said the masked man, stepping more fully into the candlelight surrounding the bed. “And I am no angel, but before I leave this room your soul will leave your body, you can be sure.” 

“You!” Adare spat before powerful coughs racked through his frail body. He held a handkerchief over his mouth as he coughed and hacked. When he pulled it away it was stained darkly with blood. “Why have you done this? Why have you pursued my death so endlessly? What have you to gain from my demise?”

“I have more to gain than you could ever imagine, though you shall not live to see me gain all that will be mine once your sons are dead as well.”

Adare coughed and sputtered into his handkerchief, fighting even harder to draw breath into his lungs. “Would you show me the face of my assassin before I die? Or are you too cowardly to show me who you really are?”

Adare could almost feel the man smiling behind his mask. “Far be it for me to deny a dying man his last wish.”

The silver masked was pulled away and Adare gasped, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. The face he stared into was so familiar to him, he almost could not believe his eyes. 

“My son,” he whispered weakly, shaking his head from side to side, tears running down his sallow cheeks. “Why have you done this thing?” 

Adare’s forgotten son stood over him, his face a twisted mask of anger and despair. He leaned forward and grasped Adare by his nightshirt, pulling him upward to stare into his eyes.

“You abandoned me. You pawned
us
off on the man who raised me, and then you went about your life pretending as though I did not exist, as if your time with my mother never even happened!”