The pain had been all he could think about for the last few days—or had it been years? Every joint in his body screamed in agony, his shoulders and hips so near losing their grip on his limbs, even too deep an inhale made him gasp as his body fought to keep itself together. After all the beatings he’d received while at Blackthorn, nothing compared to this, and deep down inside, Matthew felt his flame beginning to die.
In the darkness, with bruised and swollen eyes, he could see next to nothing, and every sound that entered his ears was either another prisoner whimpering, screaming, begging to die, or the sound the rats made when their claws scratched across the stone floor. He had not eaten since he'd been brought in, and the water he’d received was from a sponge that smelled distinctly of urine and body odor. The idea that he would be better off dead took on a distinct voice that echoed in his mind, growing louder and more forceful with each passing minute.
The sound of footsteps in the hall made his breath catch in his throat. Since his initial arrival, only one other time had the guards come to stretch him, but the idea that they could be headed toward his cell had his heart pounding. When he heard the familiar squeak of the cell door, Matthew gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, blinking back tears. He couldn’t handle any more.
“G’mornin’, King Matthew,” one of them said. Matthew recognized his voice, though he couldn’t see him in the darkness. He was one of the soldiers who had brought him in. “Time for your morning constitutional.” Both guards laughed loudly, the pungent smell of sweat rolling off of them making Matthew gag as they reached around him, but it wasn’t the lever they were seeking. It was the straps that held him to the wrack.
With no regard whatsoever for the pain he was in, the guards unhooked him from the wrack, his limbs falling freely, nearly to the ground, as he had no control of his joints, and his muscles spasmed and ached. Matthew couldn’t hold back the groans that came with each release. The guards found that amusing as well. No further explanation was offered as they hoisted him up and dragged him out into the hall, headed back the way they’d come when they brought him down to this festering hellhole.
Matthew’s mind faded in and out. Rivulets of pain ebbing and flowing into the solace of unconscious thought as his body screamed from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. He imagined they were taking him out to the courtyard, that there would be a gallows or a chopping block waiting for him there, and Matthew would welcome the sight. Dying at the hands of Leopold and Philip was a disgusting way to go, and he knew his brother would never stop blaming himself for Matthew’s demise, but the idea that it would all be over soon was the only thought that penetrated the blurry agony otherwise encompassing his mind.
It seemed to take forever to get back on the main floor. The feel of the polished stone beneath his dragging toes felt slightly smoother than the rough floors of the dungeon but it was hardly a comfort. Ahead of him, Matthew could see the oak doors leading out the front entryway and recalled his moment of arrival, when he’d thought being dragged by horses was painful. He had been so ignorant then—two, maybe three?—days ago. Now, as the guards threw the door open, the blinding sun scorched his eyes. He tried to turn his head, but his neck and shoulders screamed in protest, so he closed his eyes, his face scrunched against the offending orb. At least the chilly air numbed the pain slightly. It would be nice to die on a lovely day.
A carriage was waiting at the bottom of the steps. Matthew didn’t see it at first because he had his eyes closed. It wasn’t until a cloud passed over the sun, and he moved them into a squint that he saw it. He wondered if Leopold had invited foreign dignitaries to attend his execution, but when the door was opened, the vehicle was empty.
Leopold swung around from his position beside the open door. Matthew blinked a few times, puzzled as to what was happening. Behind him, Matthew saw another familiar form. Philip was here as well. If only he had the use of his limbs, perhaps he would show both of them a thing or two.
“Good morning, Matthew.” Leopold’s smile was obnoxious and did not fit the situation at all. “How are you feeling?”
If Matthew had had any saliva in his mouth he would’ve spit in the king’s face. “Go to hell,” he croaked, the flames in his throat almost as intense as those in the other areas of his body.
“Get him some water,” Leopold ordered a nearby servant. “It would be a shame for you to leave us... uncomfortable.” His face curled into a snarl, a twist between a truly hospitable host and a sarcastic, malevolent demon who knew he’d put his guest through hell and liked it.
Despite Matthew’s loathing of the man before him and his curiosity as to what Leopold had meant when he mentioned leaving, as soon as the servant lifted the ladle to his lips, Matthew lapped up as much water as he possibly could. When it was dry, Leopold said, “Give him more. Clearly, the king is thirsty.” After three or four ladles worth, the pain in Matthew’s throat dulled. If only water could cure the pain in the rest of his body.
“Your brother and I have reached an agreement,” Leopold continued as the boy stepped aside. Matthew’s eyes looked past him, to Philip, who wore a scowl. In six months, Philip couldn't manage what Leopold had in two days. “When you arrive at Castle Caine, be sure to let Caleb know how much I appreciate his willingness to bargain with me. I am certain I have gotten the better end of the deal. Your brother must love you very much, King Matthew.” Leopold made a small “hmmm” sound as if he were thinking of his sister, a sibling he had also cared for. Matthew found it difficult to believe this man was capable of any kindness whatsoever toward anyone. He’d stab his own father in the heart under the right circumstances, he wagered.
“What... what was the trade?” Matthew stammered, curiosity getting the better of him as the guards moved him into the vehicle.
Leopold didn’t answer, but even if he had, Matthew likely wouldn’t have heard over his own gasps. He did his best not to scream in front of the other two kings, but the blinding pain sitting in the carriage sent exploding through his body was almost enough for him to lose consciousness again. When the guards grabbed his wrists and tied them together in front of him, a shriek escaped his lips.
“Careful,” Leopold sang in a carefree voice. “Don’t damage our assets now, gentlemen.”
“It’s a little late for that...” Matthew groaned. “What did you trade?”
The guards moved aside, closing the door, and Leopold leaned in through the open window. “Safe travels, Matthew. Thank you for coming.” He gave a nod and stepped aside, but before he could give the signal to the driver, another face hovered in front of Matthew’s.
Philip’s voice was a low growl. “Tell your brother I always find a way to win.” He shook the iron frame of the carriage window, his eyes narrowed, as he stepped back toward Leopold, who looked annoyed by Philip’s actions, from what Matthew could tell. Leopold slammed his hand on top of the carriage twice, and they started to move.
The jerking motion, along with the rocking back and forth and sliding across the seat, was excruciating. Matthew slumped down, trying to brace himself against the seat across from him, but there was no way to keep himself still. He hoped Caleb was meeting them somewhere close by with a litter because he didn’t think he could make it all the way to Arteria like this. As Castle Graden faded away behind him, he prayed that neither himself, nor anyone he cared about, would ever have to step foot in the fortress again.
The small chapel at the back of Castle Caine was only large enough for a few special guests, but Katherine was overjoyed that James was able to witness this occasion. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful swirls across the dark wood of the pews, but Katherine hardly noticed her surroundings as she made her way up the narrow aisle in a flowing, bejeweled pink gown Caroline had helped her pick out. The princess had her eyes on the man who stood waiting for her.
Caleb was dressed in a dark blue suit made of the finest fabric with hints of red and gold, the official colors of Arteria. It was the first time Katherine had seen him in his crown, and he looked every bit like a royal sovereign. Her heart leapt in her chest when his blue eyes focused on her face, his smile reflecting the joy she felt springing from within her. All other cares and worries were set aside as she joined him before the altar and the royal chaplain, Father Dupes, began the ceremony.
The feel of Caleb’s hand encircling hers and the mesmerizing orbs of blue before her caused such a distraction, Katherine missed the majority of the short ceremony. Father Dupes read scripture, prayed, and asked the couple to vow their eternal devotion to one another, which they did, but it wasn’t until Caleb’s lips were on hers that she realized the wedding was over. Their few guests applauded, and Caleb attempted to keep the kiss simple for their sake, but Katherine lost herself in the taste of him, her tongue encircling his, and when he tried to pull back, she could hardly let him go. He smiled at her, and leaning in next to her ear, whispered, “Soon enough, love.”
“Congratulations!” Caroline shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks as she flung herself at Katherine, squeezing her so tightly, she thought she might burst. “Caleb’s mother would be so proud that he found such a beautiful bride.”
Katherine wasn’t sure what to say, so she only smiled. It was a lovely compliment. Caroline moved on to congratulate Caleb, and Katherine embraced a few of the others Caleb had invited, but her eyes were on James.
Her brother was still angry. He stood in the back along with his attendants, but when he saw her looking at him, he took a deep breath and headed her direction. By the time he reached her, he managed to find a semblance of a smile. “You look lovely, dear sister.”
“Thank you, dear brother.” He opened his arms and she wrapped hers around him, resting her head on his chest. “It means everything to me that you were here.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t have to miss it,” he replied. Katherine realized he was saying it wasn’t his choice not to be at her other wedding—the one that was supposed to have taken place with Philip--and she imagined that meant Eleanora had forbidden him from coming. Deciding it didn’t matter now, that it had all worked out as it should’ve, Katherine released him and turned her attention back to her husband.
She drank him in, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how his jaw moved when he laughed, the way his bicep filled his sleeve whenever he bent his arm. He became conscious of her gaze and turned in her direction, reaching for her hand, and Katherine slipped hers inside, the ring he’d given her a welcome replacement for the one she’d lost.
Caleb pulled her over to him, and Katherine let her body careen into his, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “Shall we take our leave, my queen?” A glimmer in his eye let her know exactly what he was thinking, and all it took was a slight nod from her to tell him how desperately she wanted him alone.
Their guests chuckled at their hasty departure, all except for James, whom Katherine didn’t make eye contact with, and once they were near the king’s chambers, Caleb lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, already devouring her mouth with his as his fingers began to undo all the work her new ladies had put into getting her dressed. The longing to feel his hands on her bare skin had Katherine quaking before he’d even gotten through the first layer.
He took his time, removing her gown and all of her undergarments, and Katherine tried to be patient as she watched him, illuminated by the faint glow of candlelight, the brush of his fingers on her shoulder, his breath on her neck, the scent of him as he slid his hand inside the waistband of her knickers and slowly freed her from them, each movement etched in her mind so she could picture him when she found herself alone and wanting him.
She let him remove his crown and fancy wedding clothes, watched the royal blue tunic reveal his chiseled chest and his rippling abdomen, his trousers and underclothing give way to powerful thighs. The weight of him on top of her was a comfort, a safe haven. They moved together, two instruments playing a divine duet in perfect harmony, and when Katherine’s breath was gone, and her thoughts were vibrant, dancing lights, Caleb let go and shuddered with release.
Later, when the air had returned to her lungs, and her heartbeat had stilled to a gentle pitter patter, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, and Katherine’s head on his chest, he played with her hair and whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know,” she said, her voice almost the ghost of a whisper it had been when she’d first found it. “I don’t want to go.”
“Stay. We’ll find another way.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
He shifted beneath her and she turned her head to look into his blue eyes. “Matthew wouldn’t want to put you in danger any more than I want to.”
“Matthew doesn’t know about Margaret.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and ran her hand across his cheek, catching a trace of rough whiskers shadowing his jaw. “All will be well, and I shall return to you. I promise.”
He trailed a finger down her temple, igniting her skin with his touch. “I will follow you. As soon as I’m certain Matthew is well, I will be there, outside Graden, waiting for the others.”
Katherine smiled at him, appreciating his vigor. “Will you burst through the castle gates and rescue me on your own?”
“If you call my name, I will.”
She giggled, leaning in and running her hand down his chest. “I have no doubt that you would.”
Caleb kissed her temple, and Katherine fought to put the journey she’d embark on the next morning out of her mind to focus on her husband, but with each tick of the clock across the room, her heart became heavier. She had no doubt Caleb would do everything within his power to find her and bring her home, but she’d witnessed pure evil before in the form of King Philip, and she knew Leopold was even more vile. She prayed her plan would work or else the memories they forged in their marital bed would be their last time to come together, a thought she couldn’t bear to consider. The plan would simply have to work—there was no other way—and she would have to believe that good would triumph over evil.
The carriage rolled along at a moderate speed, though Katherine thought perhaps it could slow a little. It wasn’t the jostling and bumps that made her wish she weren’t flying over the terrain so quickly, it was the idea that she was off to face a foe she wasn’t sure she could defeat, despite her best laid plans.
In an interior pocket of her skirt, sewn in where only she could find it, she concealed the elixir the royal physician had given her, the drops she would consume to trick the king and begin her escape. She only hoped he was still as much of a fool as he had been the last time she’d spoken to him.
James sat across from her, a scowl on his face. He had hardly spoken in the hours since they’d left Castle Caine. Katherine had asked him several questions about the people back home, the ones she missed, but he didn’t want to chat. She couldn’t blame him for being angry; she would be too, in his position, but she was rethinking the conclusion they’d reached earlier that left Caleb outside of the carriage. She’d rather be lost in her husband’s eyes than staring at the glaring face of her brother.
Caleb was close enough she could often see him outside of the carriage window, even though David and his other advisors insisted he should stay back. They had an idea of where they would first encounter the Gradenian party, but they couldn’t know for sure, and if they appeared out of nowhere, the way the assaulting group had done when Rose had been taken, Caleb could be harmed. They had a large force with them, scouting out the area on all sides of the carriage, but she’d heard David shouting at Caleb more than once that he needed to use more caution.
He wouldn’t, though, and she knew it. She would have to trust in his ability to handle whatever dangers Leopold threw his way since he would run straight into danger to protect her or get her back. Having him inside the carriage with her would’ve been too much of a distraction, he’d explained, and he thought it was important to show the others he believed in the plan, that he was certain he’d see Katherine again in a few days’ time. While she hadn’t disagreed, she could use a little distraction about now.
The last beams of the sun illuminated the sky in pinks and golds as a shout was given that the Gradenians had been spotted up the road. Katherine’s stomach twisted into a knot, and she began to worry, scraping her lip with her teeth, her fingers tangling and untangling on her lap.
“It isn’t too late,” James reminded her. “You can stop this.”
Katherine narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Please don’t.”
James sighed loudly as the carriage came to a stop. Katherine held her breath, trying to make out what the men were saying, but several of them were shouting at once, and all she knew was that most of them were ordered to fall back away from the carriage as Leopold had requested.
Caleb’s face appeared in the window before he pulled the door open. Katherine slid across the seat and took his hand, pulling him halfway in as his arms came around her. James groaned, but she ignored him, and Caleb’s lips found her cheek. “If you’ve changed your mind, you don’t have to go.” He was looking her in the eye, his voice quiet but firm.
“I must.”
“We can attack and keep you both.”
“You can attack, and we can both die. All of us. We’ve given our word, and even if it’s to the likes of Leopold and Philip, it’s still our word.”
Caleb’s nostrils flared, and he swallowed hard, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. He leaned in and quickly pressed his lips to hers before whispering. “I love you. Four days at most.” He disappeared out the carriage door before she had a chance to respond.
“Katherine....”
“James, thank you for accompanying me. I shall see you in four days. At most.”
His anger turning to sorrow, James’s face melted. He leaned across the seat and embraced her, kissing her on the side of her head. “Please be careful, Katherine. I love you entirely too much to ever lose you.”
“I love you, too, big brother. Now, go.”
James looked her in the eyes once more and then slid out of the carriage, closing the door behind him.
The latch echoed through the vehicle like the door of a prison cell swinging shut, and Katherine felt dragons take flight in her stomach. The carriage pulled forward, slowly. She could no longer see Caleb or James out the window, though David was nearby. He gave her a sorrowful smile, and she shifted her eyes so they were pointed right ahead.
After a few more minutes, the carriage stopped again. The Gradenian soldiers’ accents were thick and difficult to understand. She could hear a bit of negotiation, and then David dismounted, walking toward her open window. “They will take the carriage, with you and your trunk, my Queen. It will be easier on Matthew not to have to be moved.”
Katherine nodded at him, unable to find words at the moment. He headed back to his horse, and she focused on the title he’d given her—everyone had been referring to her as the Queen of Arteria, including Caleb, but without a coronation.... It didn’t matter. So long as she could convince Philip she was the queen, that the marriage had taken place, the ceremony could come later. She was Caleb’s wife, there was no doubt of that. Whether that would matter to a man as evil as Philip would remain to be seen.
The carriage moved forward, and Katherine found her entire body shaking as the weight of what she’d taken on consumed her. Ahead of her, she could hear the squeak of wheels and realized she was going to pass right alongside Matthew’s carriage as he transferred to his brother’s control. Perhaps a glimpse of his face would help remind her of why she’d decided to make this sacrifice. Katherine moved to the window, her hands on the sill, and could see the trade had already been made. Gordon was driving the Gradenian carriage now, Dale beside him. The two officers saw her, their smiles sorrowful as they attempted to wish her well without saying a word. She raised her hand in recognition.
Matthew’s carriage was moving slowly to help manage his pain, she supposed, while hers was taking on speed. But as they passed, she looked inside and caught a glimpse of his face. He looked far worse than she could’ve ever imagined. Covered in crusted blood, his face dirty and unshaven. He wore a grimace; whatever those barbarians had done to him, they’d nearly killed him. She’d done the right thing. Even if it cost her her life, she knew Matthew would be well soon under Russell’s care, back with his family where he belonged. He had suffered enough.
In the last moment before the windows were no longer aligned, he looked at her, and she saw a flicker of recognition. Katherine pulled back, not wanting to upset him. But it was already too late. As her carriage pulled away, she heard him shout, “Angel? Angel! What? No! Don’t take her!”
Leaning her head back against the seat, Katherine closed her eyes and tried to picture the happy reunion that was about to take place. Caleb had been searching for his brother for so long, and now he had him back. She could see them embracing, smiling, tears of joy in their eyes. Even in her own mind, Caleb’s smile was haunted by the thought that his wife was gone, but she ignored that aspect, choosing instead to think of Matthew and Maggie’s reunification and how overjoyed the sweet queen would be to have her king back at her side.
Darkness overtook the carriage, which was just as well, because the Gradenian soldiers that rode alongside her now reminded her too much of the last time she’d fled in a carriage in the middle of the night, their snarls and grunts similar to the enemy who’d taken both her parents from her. Katherine’s hand went to the secret location in her skirt where she hid the elixir, and she tried to rest. If all went as planned, she’d be sleeping soundly soon enough.
Matthew was weeping. The carriage drove on, and Caleb allowed David to continue to oversee the operation, having fallen far behind so as not to be threatened by the Gradenians during the exchange, though he’d been close enough to see his wife disappear into the horizon. Now, as they headed back toward safer ground, the sound of his younger brother sobbing was as haunting as the nightjars crying out from the forests around them. When he thought he might not be able to handle the sound any longer, David ordered Dale and Gordon to stop, and the carriage came to a halt.
Caleb dismounted Hendrix in one motion, rushing over to his brother’s carriage door as another soldier brought a torch. It would take a moment longer for Russell to reach them, but Caleb needed to see his brother’s face.
Matthew’s wrists were bound, and he was doubled over, sobbing into his hands. The blood coating his hair and the tattered rags he wore were a clear indication he had been tortured, so Caleb was afraid to touch him, but he needed to assure him he was safe now, that he would be treated and taken care of. Most importantly, he needed to tell him Margaret was alive. When Katherine had explained Matthew thought she was dead, Caleb could hardly believe it. His brother must’ve been living in agony all these months, not knowing the truth. Now, he could relieve some of that agony.
“Matthew, you’re safe,” he said, quietly, his hand hesitating before gently resting on his brother’s forearm. “Look at me, won’t you? You’re safe at last.”
His body spasmed as the King of Zurconia tried to regain control of himself. “She sacrificed herself for me! Why did you let her? Why, Caleb? I would’ve died for her!”
“Calm down, Matthew, please,” Caleb insisted as Russell opened the door on the other side of the coach. “Believe me, I was as against it as anyone, but she made up her mind the moment she knew Leopold would kill you if she didn’t go.” He withdrew his blade and cut through the ropes that bound his brother’s wrists, eliciting a groan of relief from Matthew before his eyes narrowed in defiance again.
The physician waited patiently, though Caleb knew his brother needed treatment immediately. Matthew was still enraged. “Do you know who that was?”
A sound that could only be described between a sigh, a laugh, and a lamentable moan escaped his lips. “I do, Matthew. You knew her as Angel, but that’s not her true name. That was Katherine, the former Princess of Nadoria. There is more to that I must tell you, but first you should know—”
“Princess of Nadoria?” Matthew’s eyes bulged, the white distinct against the dirt and grime on his face. “It can’t be!”
“It is. Much has transpired since you left Blackthorn, though not many days have passed. Regardless, Matthew, listen, Katherine informed me of a situation I must correct immediately—Matthew, Margaret is alive.”
Somehow, Matthew’s eyes widened even more, his mouth agape, as he stared at Caleb, not even breathing. “Maggie?” he finally asked, his voice cracking with the word. “My Maggie... is alive?”
Caleb allowed himself a small smile. “Yes, she is alive and well and waiting for you at Castle Caine. Russell was able to save her, and now, if you will calm yourself, he will treat you as well. You must be in terrible pain. They’ve tortured you, haven’t they?”
Matthew’s face shifted again, the awe and joy that had lit his eyes in considering the possibility that Margaret was waiting for him replaced by fear and terror. “They did. I don’t wish to speak of it.”
“I understand.” The rage Caleb already felt against Leopold and Philip both stabbed at him from the insides as he imagined what the bastards had done to his brother. If either of them so much as disturbed a hair on Katherine’s head....
Russell was inside the carriage now, and Matthew shrieked in pain under the physician’s gentle hands. Caleb caught his eyes, and the medical man shook his head. “It’s not good, Your Majesty. We may need to use the litter. The carriage will be too rough.”
Caleb signaled to a few of the soldiers standing nearby to fetch the hospital cart they’d brought along, just in case. “What’s the diagnosis, Russell?”
“His limbs are near the severing point, all four of them, from what I can tell. He has multiple abrasions, his skull may be fractured.”
The king didn’t need his brother to say the word for him to know what kind of torture device produced the sort of injuries where one’s limbs were nearly severed. Leopold had used the wrack. Caleb’s fists balled up, and he slammed his hand into his own thigh to keep from hitting the only object closer, the carriage, since that would hurt his brother. “They will mend in time?”
“Yes, with proper rest and care, they will, though they will always ache, and he may have a limp when he walks.”
Matthew was listening again now. “Do you have something that will stop the pain, Russell? I can’t bear it much longer.”
The physician opened the medical bag he carried and pulled out a bottle that was becoming too familiar to Caleb, and he stepped aside to let the man do his work. He’d let Russell care for his brother while he focused on getting his wife safely back from the clutches of the demons who’d already taken so much from his family.