Diedre
I didn’t sleep that night. My thoughts replayed Fernando’s death and the king’s threat over and over. Anya’s presence next to me soothed my overwhelmed mind.
I’m not alone, I reminded myself when fear sabotaged my strength. Three loyal women stood beside me, and would risk their lives to protect mine.
I mouthed silent prayers. “Send my father to aid us. I beg you.”
The northern priests assured that the Divine One cared and sent magic to assist his devout followers. I thought Prince Fernando’s arrival saved me from Toren the Brute. The lump in my throat made it hard to swallow. Was I destined to suffer under whatever ruler wished me to birth his heirs?
After the long hours of the dark gave way to a hint of pink through the sheer curtains, I rose and dressed myself in a simple blue dress. I left my hair down and my face bare.
Anya woke and readied herself as well. If she noticed the purple circles beneath my eyes, she didn’t mention it. She gently caressed my upper arm when she passed me to find our slippers.
After a moment, we tiptoed through the hall and toward the kitchen. I wanted something hot to drink. We exchanged few words, both already knowing what the other desired at this hour.
The cook was kneading dough for morning rolls when we entered. Her normal cream and violet dress was replaced with a black one. It made her features pallid.
“You’re early,” she said, forcing a smile. Usually, her cheery greetings revealed dimples in her plump cheeks.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted, glancing at the floor.
She left the dough and rinsed her hands before setting a kettle to boil. “Most of us struggled to rest last night. It’s so tragic.”
I nodded and murmured, “I saw him … gone.”
“Oh dearie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were there, too. They said nothing about that.”
How odd. I assumed everyone knew I and the healer discovered him.
She finished preparing the dough, then poured boiling water through freshly ground coffee beans. This bitter brew wasn’t available at home, but I took a liking to it, especially with the abundance of beet sugar in this kingdom. It woke the mind ten times better than herbal tea.
She handed us steaming mugs, then leaned over to whisper to Anya, “Do you not have black clothes?”
“We do, but they’re more fancy, and more suitable for social gatherings.”
The woman’s eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut.
Prince Lorenzo entered while we sipped our hot beverages. He wore head to toe black, and red rimmed his puffy eyelids. It looked like he’d been weeping for hours. Oh, Divine. Had the queen already been executed?
He froze when he saw us.
I set my cup down and stepped toward him. “Prince Lorenzo,” I whispered.
He strode to me and wrapped me into a fierce embrace. Shock paralyzed my words. This was inappropriate, especially in the presence of others. Yet his powerful arms and heated skin returned life to my terrified soul.
Anya tapped his shoulder. “Please, Your Highness. Put Princess Diedre down.”
He did, then stepped backward. “Forgive me,” he blurted. He inhaled a shaky breath.
“It’s alright,” I soothed. I squeezed Anya’s wrist as a thank you for stepping in, then addressed Lorenzo again. “Has something happened?”
His nostrils flared as he nodded his head. “Yes. My father is dead.”
My jaw fell as my mind worked to comprehend everything that one statement implied. King Sartorius died. That must mean the queen was safe. And Fernando … he’d be in charge now.
I clasped my hand over my heart.
“How?” I rasped.
His gaze flitted to the cook, then back to me. “Walk with me.”
I followed his quick strides out of the kitchen and into the fighting rings, away from the servant’s listening ears. Anya trailed behind me, but not close enough to overhear. She understood awkward royal situations well. Yet another reason I brought her with me.
“What is it?” I asked once we were at a safe distance.
“You’ll hear about this soon, but I’d rather it come from me.”
I waited, wishing he’d just tell me.
He cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “He’s dead because of me.”
“What?” Oh dear Divine, that sounded like a squeak.
His face crumpled. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He was going to execute my mom, and he was raging in the halls, breaking her portraits.”
My body trembled, but I reached out for him, resting my palm on his forearm.
“I threw the candelabra at him. It hit his head, and he screamed for me to be taken away. I think he wanted me dead, too.” A sob interrupted.
My guts twisted.
He sniffed and wiped his cheeks. “He died because of me.”
Raw grief rippled from him in waves. He wasn’t like the northern nobles who kept their emotions hidden. His pure honesty pulled on my heartstrings.
“Will Fernando punish you?” I whispered.
“He witnessed it and has ruled it an accident. He’s letting me live.”
My lips trembled. My future husband was kinder than I realized, especially considering the animosity between these two when I first arrived in Astralind. Yet affection swelled for this young prince before me, the one who poured his soul out and trusted me with it.
I held back from touching him.
“He made the right decision.”
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