The White Forest (Mages and Kingdoms Book 2) (13 page)

Seth

Seth stood before the
cell a good while watching Talon sleep. He was pressed into the corner where a measly pile of hay had been pushed together in the pathetic attempt at comfort. His arm was slung over his eyes and his body moved up and down rhythmically. As if sensing his presence, Talon stirred. He lifted the crook of his elbow from his face and turned his head slowly.

Seeing Seth, he let out a slow sigh and creakily pulled himself up to a standing position.

“Three days?” Talon asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand tiredly. “A bit much, don’t you think?”

Seth remained still, a quiet anger coursing through his limbs. His hands remained fisted at his sides, fingernails creating moon-shaped creases on his palms, so badly did he want to strike at his friend.

Talon sensed the anger in the prince and the teasing lilt left his voice. “Seth.”

“You will address me as your Highness,” Seth growled through clenched teeth.

Talon shook his head. “Is this where we are now?”

“You saw what I endured.”

Talon lowered his eyes in guilt.

“You saw what I had to conquer. You let me suffer and you could have ended it with a few simple words. You, who I trust above all else, above my own brother.”

Talon responded solemnly. "Your suffering is mine, friend."

Enraged, Seth's hands grabbed the bars and rattled them. "You were supposed to bring her back!"

"And I have!" Talon burst out in a scream. Never before had he voiced his words in such a manner to the prince but the accusations ripped apart his seams and it seemed everything exploded from him at once. "I brought her back, but it was not on your time schedule. This was not for you! It's not about you. Not anymore. She was where she needed to be. I only pulled her from there because now
this
is where she needs to be. Damn your feelings. She damned hers a long time ago."

The words stunned Seth into silence. He stared bewildered at Talon for a moment before he shook the look off his face, turned, and started up the stairs.

Talon

It was many hours
before the scrape of the key in the lock woke Talon from a fitful sleep. Derrick entered the cell with a flask of brandy.

“Come, my friend,” he told Talon, offering a hand to help him to his feet.

Talon swiped the flask and took a long swig. However much this flask held was not enough. He’d been stretched too thin, his loyalties too divided, his patience too worn to be satisfied with one flask of brandy.

He needed the jug.

Derrick knew him so well. Even now, the large man offered a hint of a smile through his rough beard as he produced a second flask from his pockets.

“He has left,” he informed Talon. “With orders to release you. And when you see him again, he will have recovered.”

Talon took another drink as he followed Derrick out of the cell and up the stairs.

“We exchanged words as we’ve never done before,” he pointed out wearily. “We’re in new territory.”

“Aye,” Derrick agreed. “But he needed those words, as much as they cut him.”

“You don’t even know what was said.”

“But I saw his face before he left. Whatever you said to him, he needed it. He just doesn’t understand that yet.”

Amelie

It was Millie who
woke her. Amelie opened her eyes sleepily to behold blond strands and a grim face. In an instant, the sleep evaporated. She sat up quickly and quietly, the years of training gripping her and employing her stealth. Millie placed an unnecessary finger over her closed lips and jerked her head towards the door.

The girls moved silently towards it. Amelie discarded her shift as she did so. A pair of lean slacks and a loose shirt were never far from reach. She shrugged into the clothing and set her daggers at her waist.

“A man entered my room in quiet,” Millie whispered as Amelie dressed. “I was not what he was looking for and he quickly left. I came straight here to warn you.”

As she finished, the door creaked open and both women ducked down behind the tall four-posted bed. Amelie’s sheets were rumpled open, revealing the bed’s occupant had clearly woken and vacated the space.

The intruder saw this and turned towards the bath, squinting into the darkness. His movements made no sound. With a quick motion of her hand, she and Millie crept to his back.

An instruction for silence was not needed. Millie gripped the man’s hair and pulled back, exposing his jugular. Amelie sliced a clean, quiet cut across his neck spraying his blood. They worked quickly to gain surprise and avoid being overpowered by his strength.

Amelie tried not to grunt as she caught the dead weight of him and both girls struggled to lower him to the floor soundlessly.

Amelie looked at her friend gravely. “My sister.”

Together, they made their way through the halls, slinking along walls and darting through passageways in case the intruder had accomplices.

“Should we split?” Amelie asked. “We are hosting Draeden royalty as well. Will you see to Prince Seth’s chambers?”

“Fear not,” Millie whispered back. “The Draeden princes can hold their own. Besides, Prince Seth departed this morning.”

Amelie concentrated on getting to her sister’s room quickly, pushing thoughts of Seth from her mind. It was no concern of hers now whether he was here or left. He did not owe her the knowledge of his movements.

An expansive space lay between her and the west wing. It was in the courtyard that the girls spied Captain Lucas making haste across the gardens. Amelie pumped to her legs to follow him.

“Captain!” she exclaimed breathlessly and as quietly as she could. He turned and stopped when he saw her.

“Princess,” he greeted, nodding his head. “We are tracking an intruder.”

“Just one?”

Captain Lucas nodded. “We have killed the other two he was with.”

“My quarters in the east wing. You will find the third.”

A look of approval crossed his face and his nod was deeper. “Still Candor’s quietest and most valuable asset I see.” His admiration spilled to Millie as well as he said this and even in the darkness Amelie could see the flush that rose high in her friend’s cheeks.

“My own men clanged loudly with swords and it took six of them to corner and kill the first two intruders,” he said, unable to keep his glance from darting to Millie. “I shall embarrass them tomorrow during extra drills as I give them the account of two slight women discarding of the third so quietly that we chased his ghost unawares.”

“Not too hard, Captain” Amelie said. “I rattled Owen and Finnigren yesterday with threats of guarding Lord Westing.” Recalling her visit to her sister’s room reminded Amelie of her original destination. “My sister. Is she all right?”

The captain nodded. “The intruders never made it to her door.”

“I shall go there now.”

“And I will join the Captain in the perimeter search to ensure there are no more threats,” Millie volunteered.

With a quick nod, Amelie turned and continued her hurried pace to her sister’s quarters. This time Owen and Finnigren stepped aside wordlessly when they saw her approach. She once again slipped into the room without knocking.

Claudia sat on her bed, her hands clenched in front of her. Amelie knelt before her and rested her hands on her sister's cold ones.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Claudia shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. Amelie pulled herself up, taking a seat next to the young girl and gathered her to her chest. Claudia cried freely, wetting Amelie’s shirt and expelling heavy sobs. Her hardened face melted into the younger sister that she was and Amelie rocked her, soothing her with long strokes on her dark hair the way she used to before the chasm formed between them.

Amelie kissed the top of Claudia’s head. “They’re gone,” she promised. “We’ve seen to it.”

Claudia noticed the blood on Amelie’s hand and drew back to look at it. Amelie followed her gaze and hastily wiped the smear of red on her shirt. “They’re gone,” she repeated more firmly.

Claudia nodded, eyes wide.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” Amelie asked.

“They could have come from any one of the cabinet members,” Claudia muttered. “That group has dissolved into a mess of squabbling men. I could imagine any of them making good on a threat. The sooner I leave, the better.”

Amelie blew out a tired breath. “I don’t know, Claudia. I can’t stomach leaving Candor to such a fate. They need someone who will lead them. Fairly. And with the kingdom’s well being in mind. Not by someone jostling for power.”

Claudia watched her sister carefully, a slow smile playing on her lips. “You, Amelie,” she said. “You lead them.”

Amelie looked sharply back at her. “Father didn’t choose me. He chose you.”

“Father would have chosen you if he hadn’t been sick on your power. You are the eldest. You are the strong one. I am the diplomat but I’ve long since learned it’s not enough to talk around peace. I do not have the ruling hand that’s required. I cannot make swift, hard judgments. That’s how all of this got out of control.”

“I do not know if I have the ruling hand you speak of,” Amelie said shakily.

“The blood on your hands says you do. In your place, I would have been killed for my hesitation. The throne was supposed to be yours. Take it now. I can leave in peace. I do wish to go to Draeden. I can now go with the peace of mind that Candor is safe.”

The thought of ruling never occurred to Amelie. Not since she was stripped of the possibility under the treaty last year. But she could see the weariness in Claudia’s face. It lifted a bit as hope grew in her eyes that she could step out from under this burden that ruling had thrust on her. Amelie had tried to help all that time ago leaving and she saw what that decision had cost Claudia. If releasing Claudia from Candor’s weight is what her sister needed, then she would do it. She would ascend the throne and squash the rebellion.

Amelie rubbed her sister’s shoulders. “Do not worry,” she assured her. “Candor will be safe. I will see to it.”

Claudia grinned, the first true smile Amelie had seen directed at her since her return. The expression sent waves of warmth through her.

“You don’t know what this means to me. Amelie, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve had no one to talk to. About anything. With you and mother gone, I had to remain content unloading on my chambermaid.”

“Reyna is a good listener,” Amelie agreed.

“But she is passing sixty. She does not share in a young woman’s excitement. Her face barely twitched when I told her about my first real kiss.”

Amelie’s heart stuttered. Claudia prattled on, oblivious to the stillness that overtook her sister.

“I’ve kissed stable boys before,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “But that first kiss when you’re truly in love. And the night when your innocence is lost but replaced with the deep, passionate transition into womanhood.” Claudia sighed. “Oh, we can truly be husband and wife now. I can be with him safely in his kingdom without Candor’s worry on my head.”

Amelie gulped. “Claudia, please. I do not think I can discuss this with you.”

Claudia pulled herself from her reverie. Her eyes narrowed on Amelie. “I am not that girl you left a year ago, sister. I am eighteen. I’ve become a woman in the time since you left.”

“No.” Amelie swallowed hard. “No, it’s not that. I’m trying, dearest. I am. But my feelings are still too raw. I’m glad you are happy but please give me more time.”

Claudia cocked her head. “Time? Your feelings? You mean it wasn’t enough to ensnare Seth? You desire the hearts of
both
princes?”

Amelie drew her eyebrows together in confusion. At the same time, dawning lightened Claudia’s face and she clapped a surprised hand over her mouth. “Oh, Amelie,” she exclaimed. “You think I married Seth!”

Amelie shook her head. “I was informed of your marriage.”

“No, sister. I did not marry Prince Seth. I married his brother. Prince Kernan.”

Amelie

"Where is my horse?"

The stable hand was a gentle soul, a boy no older than fifteen. Quiet and dutiful, he served the royal family alongside his father, his favorite of the members being the equally quiet and dutiful elder princess.

But today she was neither. Amelie's face was twisted into an impatient scowl and her words bit his ears. She caught herself as she saw the look of shock register on his face and asked the question again with more control.

"Where is Swift?"

"The Draeden prince took her," he replied obediently. "He has taken a liking to her these few months."

This could be helpful. Amelie posed her next question. "In which direction did he ride?"

The stable hand pointed north. Pointed to the familiar break in the trees that led to the familiar broken path, a small thin trail of dirt that was often clouded in overgrown shrubbery. He pointed towards the convent.

"Please," Amelie said hurriedly. "Saddle another horse. The fastest you have. Quickly."

The run was dark. The moon hung heavy and dim in the night and the shadowy clouds covered her swift tracks but she didn’t need light or markers for this journey. She kept an eye out for her white mare but the stable hand informed her he’d left several hours earlier so she didn’t expect to overtake him.

She hoped the convent was his destination. If he kept going, she didn’t know which direction to take. And she had to see him.

She needed to see him. Desperately.

Her heart pounded with thoughts of him. After a year apart, he was so close. Her fingertips could brush him. One last hurdle. One last barrier and she could wrap around him. If he’d let her.

She gulped nervously. She would tell him everything she learned. She would tell him of his parentage. If she reached him, she would tell him he was half mage.

“Faster, boy,” she urged her horse. Black and lean, it mixed with the night. She leaned further forward into the saddle, willing the beast to fly. Her eyelids hooded. Inside, warmth stirred and her lips parted. “
Soo yah roun tah yah
.” The whispers glided from her throat in a low and humming sound. Golden dust wisped. She repeated the words. She didn’t think. They flowed from her. The night air streaked around her. The moon disappeared. Again she whispered. Again.

As she came out of the trance a few moments later, she was startled to see the oaks that lined the path towards the convent. She shook her head to clear the fog. Gold dust evaporated from the air. She had magicked.

Her beaming smile lit up the night. Just as quickly as it came, it slid from her face. She glanced around as her heart sped up. She didn’t see him.

Dismounting her horse, she ran down the pathway towards the quiet structure. In this hour of the night, nothing moved. The nuns were all asleep, tucked into their small rooms and waiting for the early rise of the sun before anything here stirred to life.  Her secretive nature warred with her urgency. Finally, his name burst from her chest.

“Seth!” she called, scattering the stillness. Her voice was lost into the night and the stillness immediately settled around her again. She tried again, less urgent. “Seth!”

Quietness answered her. She resisted sagging against a fence post. She could not give in to the ache in her chest. She needed to think. Where would he have ridden from here?

An idea bloomed inside her and chased away the emptiness that tried to pry its way in. She would circle convent. Perhaps disturb his sleeping camp if he had decided to rest for the night. If she didn’t see him, she would regroup with Talon and Derrick in the morning. He wouldn’t be gone forever.

So why did every minute feel like another year?

A light flickered in a window as a flame was struck on a candlewick.

The window was her old room.

Amelie’s breath caught. Before she could think, she ran towards it. She slowed as she reached it, crouching to stay below the pane. The glass swung outwards and his voice shot from inside.

“Amelie?”

Sweet air filled Amelie’s lungs. She stood and approached the window. Surprised etched his face but he stepped back as she climbed into the opening. Straightening before him she could see hesitation take over his expression. He stepped several paces from the window and crossed his arms.

They stared at each other from across the room. Again, several feet of empty space divided them and Amelie clenched her fists frustrated. He was closed. His face was hardening in front of her. He was still out of reach.

“I needed to leave the castle,” he began in way of explanation. “I couldn’t stand being there, in front of you and your mage lover. But I also couldn’t leave you. This was the first place I thought of.”

Amelie reeled back on her heels. “My mage lover?”

“The man you came back with. The one you became involved with during your time getting in touch with your mage side.” He sighed. “I know you want that life now but if it’s all the same to you, I’ll come to terms with it from afar.”

Amelie almost laughed at the absurdity. How wrong they both were. How easily their assumptions kept them an arm’s length apart.

“Seth, I love you.”

She relished in those words as they broke free from her. Her eyes closed briefly in the joy of speaking them and when she opened them again, she found Seth staring at her, his mouth agape. She smiled. “I love you still. I am not with the mage I came with. He is a friend who saved my and Talon’s life. I have been keeping my distance because I thought you were married to my sister. I received news she’d married a Draeden prince. I’d assumed it was you.”

Seth finally found his voice. “It was not me. She fell in love with my brother.”

“Yes. I learned this only tonight. Upon hearing the news I took the second fastest horse to find you since you’d stolen the fastest.”

Seth spoke slowly. “But…I saw the two of you. In the garden. As soon as you were released from the dungeon, you went running to him.”

Amelie’s mind puzzled over this fact until understanding lit her features. “Oh. Yes. His power. It allows him to travel into the limbo where souls dwell before they die. I needed to touch him to travel with him. He was helping me to release King Byron from his endless sleep. So he could let go in peace.”

“King Byron?”

“Yes. Simon has been a very helpful
friend
.”

“So you are not lovers?”

“Not in the least.”

“You are not taken?”

“I am taken,” Amelie corrected. “By you. Only you.”

Seth could have been using his own mage spells with the speed in which he crossed the room. His hands found her waist, her arms circled his neck, their mouths crushed together with months of desperation exploding in their embrace.

Their kisses increased in intensity, quickly escalating. Amelie finally took notice that he wore nothing more than a loose linen shirt that barely skirted his bottom and undershorts. The thin material did nothing to conceal his body and the effect their urgent reunion was having on him.

Amelie tried to pull away. He needed to know everything first. Her body screamed at her for the rush of cold air from the separation but she couldn’t go on without telling him. She remembered Sir Duncan’s revelations to her. How lost she felt as thoughts she’d held about her life snapped and left her dangling with questions. Her mother had been magically bound to secrecy.

Amelie was not. Amelie fled the White Forest before such a restriction could be magicked on her. Seth could learn the truth by someone who loved him dearly. Who would take care in revealing to him his origins. She could hold him and help tame his reaction if he’d let her. If he didn’t spear the messenger or harbor anger toward her for withholding this information from him until now.

Seth felt her distance and squeezed harder, bringing her body back to his.

“No,” he said firmly. “No more thinking.” His hands gripped her back and his mouth lowered to her neck. “I need you,” he murmured and Amelie felt her resolve melting away with her body.

“Seth, I must tell you something first. You may not want me once you know.”

“You could be the Underlord’s temptress and I would love you all the same. There is no deed or piece of information you could reveal that would tarnish the heart that beats inside you. I know you. I love you. Everything else is secondary.”

Her chest constricted. She could read well into his eyes, see in their depths that he meant every word he said.

“Seth.” His name left her mouth in a moan and carried away all the revelations she had intended to tell him. He responded by carrying her to the small cot she used to sleep on each night and stripping her of her riding gear. His eyes took a moment to drink her in, roving over her exposed body.

She felt the heat on her skin from his look alone.

“Be with me,” she whispered.

He obliged, gathering her solidly into his arms. His embrace was urgent and warm and strong. Every thrust carried months of longing. She gripped him, holding onto this moment, willing it to last forever. She shivered with pleasure under his hands as they kneaded her side, her breast, massaged her neck. His mouth covered hers.

Rolling pleasure began to murmur inside her below and she tightened her legs around him. The buildup of heartache and loss evaporated in an explosion of bliss and her joyful cry was muffled in his kiss. He breathed heavily, resting his forehead on hers and he squeezed her when he tensed. As his body relaxed, so did his grip but he did not release her.

He drew her closer as his breathing evened out.

They laid together like that for long moments until Amelie finally spoke.

“The nuns will have our heads for that.”