The guards released the people from the dungeons and escorted them back to their village. Alex did not accompany them. Instead, he rode into the village near the castle gates.
The streets were deserted. Faces appeared at windows and promptly disappeared. Word of the army’s intrusion into other villages had stretched across the kingdom.
When his father was king, he’d send the army into a village to force people from their homes in advance of the king’s arrival. They’d have to wave and cheer as if they had not a care in the world.
Eventually, the people would come out willingly–after the purge. They were grateful for the king’s removal of magic folk.
Alex had done the same thing, and yet they now cursed his name.
As he rode through the empty streets to the place where he was attacked the year before, he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. Someone was watching them. His eyes darted around but the only other people present were his own guards.
Alex stopped and dismounted. This spot was where he’d fought with Etta and Edmund. He lifted his eyes to the healer’s shop. A new sign hung over the door. The destruction of parts of the village had been cleared away and shops rebuilt on his orders.
As a boy, he’d spent a lot of time running through the streets with Etta.
But now the place seemed foreign to him.
“Alex.” The voice was faint. He twisted around, looking for the source even as his mind recognized the soft quality sliding over him.
“Ara,” he breathed.
“What, your Majesty?” Simon asked.
Alex held up a finger, listening.
“We need you,” Ara said. “Etta will kill me for contacting you, but in two weeks’ time, we march on Dracon. Etta isn’t herself. Something is inside of her. Her plans… Alex, they’re crazy. I hope you can hear me right now. I’m not sure if my magic is working at this distance, but I think she’s losing herself. If she’s going to survive this…” The words paused. “You’re the one person who can keep her from letting her recklessness get her killed.”
Ara continued, but Alex didn’t hear it as his guards started shouting. “Get down, your Majesty.” He was thrown to the ground as one of his guards tackled him and went still.
Simon took off running as the rest of the guards positioned themselves around their king. Alex couldn’t see what was happening but the crash of swords rang out. The fight didn’t take long and then Simon was running back toward them.
Alex pushed the man off him, but his guard didn’t get up. He turned him over and sucked in a breath when he found the knife embedded in the man’s back. His face was frozen in shock. Alex bowed his head and slid the dead man’s eyes closed.
“We need to get you out of here, your Majesty,” Simon said, sliding his sword back into the sheath.
Alex pushed to his feet. “That knife was meant for me.”
“We’ll make sure Riley’s family is taken care of.”
Riley. He hadn’t even known the man’s name. His body hummed with nervous energy as the shock wore off and adrenaline took over.
“Your Majesty,” Simon urged. “I took care of the attacker, but there could be more.”
There weren’t. The attacker seemed to be working alone, so they cantered away from the village and the bodies they left behind.
Alex practically fell from his horse and stumbled back. Bile rose in his throat and he put a hand on the stable wall as the contents of his stomach emptied onto the ground below him.
“Your Majesty.” A delicate hand offered him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, and he looked up into the face of Duchess Moreau.
He took her pity, wiped his face, and stood. “I was almost…”
Simon appeared. “Your Majesty, you should go inside and rest. You’re in shock.” He turned his gaze on the duchess. “I’ll alert the palace guards. The king was attacked. We’ll increase his guard tonight.”
“Thank you, Simon.”
He bowed his head and hurried away.
“Alexandre.” She gripped his elbow. “Come with me. You’ve been in battle before. An attack on your life is not the only thing on your mind.”
He’d almost forgotten about Ara’s message and how shaken he’d been even before the attack began.
Etta needed him, but his kingdom was on the brink of civil war because of the aid he offered magic folk. He couldn’t go to her, could he?
He followed the duchess silently. She’d existed in her own world in the weeks since the wards were put into place. He’d expected her to return home as he’d ordered. The villages on the Moreau land were suffering in the wake of the exodus of the magic folk. They’d been a large part of the population on her lands and now there was a shortage of workers. The Moreau forces that marched with him to retake the palace lost many men and women to Bela as well.
But she hadn’t left, claiming a duty to the crown. She sat at the head of his council and he was grateful for her steady presence.
She led him into her suite of rooms and pointed toward the couch. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sat. She walked over to a table and a minute later was pressing a cup into his hands.
He sighed and tilted it against his lips, expecting wine or even ale. When something completely different touched his tongue, he sputtered.
Duchess Moreau’s face creased as a fond smile flitted across it.
“Water?” He asked skeptically. “I almost have my life taken from me. One of my men is dead. And you give me water?”
One brow arched. “You don’t need a drink, your Majesty. I think you’ve had enough of those lately.” When he started to protest, she went on. “Why else would you arrest wagons full of people in one of your own villages. The king I know would only do something so completely idiotic with a strong influencer in his system.”
“I…” He sat forward to argue, but the air deflated from his lungs. “I deserved that.”
“That and more, but it is not for me to chastise you.”
“Actually.” He rubbed his chin. “It kind of is. You’re the head of the king’s council. When I was ill, many of the crown’s powers were transferred to you and those who sit on the council with you.” He leaned back. “Essentially, I am not ruling this kingdom alone anymore because we never formally returned those powers. The proclamation has been drawn up for a reversal, but the time hasn’t been right.”
She narrowed her eyes, watching him. Duchess Moreau was a shrewd woman. It hadn’t escaped her that the council still held more power than they had at any time since Alexandre’s grandfather was king.
Their eyes met in silent standoff, each only imagining what the other was thinking.
“Your Majesty,” she said.
“Duchess,” he replied.
“What do you want?”
“A king’s power should never be absolute,” he said finally.
“No, it should not.”
“My father’s was, and that is how the purge happened. Never again.”
“We can prevent such an occurrence.”
He nodded.
“Are you sure you know what these powers mean?” she asked. “The capabilities the council will have?”
There was something lying beneath her words, but he couldn’t decipher the meaning so he only nodded and sipped his water.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she poured a cup from a second pitcher. Reaching out, she took his water and passed him the new drink. He tasted it and laughed. Wine.
“Now,” she said as she took a seat. “Tell me what happened today.”
He didn’t hold anything back as he described the empty streets. When he got to the message from Ara, he scrutinized her face. She gave nothing away, and he moved on to the attack.
When he was finished, she crossed her ankles and busied herself fanning out the skirt of her dress.
“Why does Ara think Etta needs you?”
“I’m not…” Before finishing his words, he realized they weren’t true. It hadn’t hit him before, why Ara was worried, but Etta had already given him all the answers he needed. “Her magic.” He swallowed another gulp of wine and set the cup aside. “Before she left, she told me it was trying to control her. I saw it with my own eyes. Anger. Hatred.” His brow furrowed, and he shook his head as he remembered the first time he’d seen it after she got the powers.
She’d fought La Dame, and he’d almost died. She’d told him to leave and never return. He hadn’t pieced that together until this very moment. Everything. All of it. Each time she’d pushed him away since the curse was broken, it had been the magic pushing him away. And he’d let it.
He closed his eyes. “They’re losing her.” It was the only explanation for Ara disobeying Etta and contacting him. “She’s losing herself.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
The next words killed him to say. “Nothing.” He brushed his hands down his embroidered jacket. “I am a king and my first responsibility must be to my people.”
Duchess Moreau’s lips drew down into a frown. “If Etta is lost, everything else could be as well. Even for Gaule.”
The guards refused to let Alex out of the castle. They were on orders from the council. Alex caught Duke Caron’s eye. They were already exercising some of their newfound power. Now that they knew the king was not planning a reversal of the powers, there was so much they could accomplish together.
Caron’s sons had already returned to the Caron estate and would take control of it with the Duke and Camille moving full time to the palace. Alex would never admit it to her, but he was glad his sister wasn’t leaving. It made him feel like Ty was close as well, like their family wasn’t so distant from each other.
The council consisted of six members, each from noble families. They stood as Alex rushed into the council chambers.
“Good morning,” he said, trying to keep them from noticing just how tired their leader was. It had been another night of worrying for Etta and everyone in Bela.
“Good morning, your Majesty,” Duchess Moreau said. “Are you ready to begin?”
He nodded. “We have much to discuss today. General Anders reports more protests and the burning of another village. We’re running out of options here. It may be time for army intervention.”
Duchess Moreau’s piercing eyes latched on to him. “And what are they rebelling against this time?” She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer.
Alex sighed. “Everything.”
The duchess stood and moved to the front of the room to face her fellow council members. “No, your Majesty. They were protesting their king.”
He scratched the side of his face. “Does this have a purpose? What do you want me to say?”
“We want you to take responsibility for destroying Gaule.”
It was as if the air in the room had been sucked out. Every eye turned to the duchess. Jaws fell open.
“Rae,” Catrine warned. “That’s enough.”
Alex followed the locked gazes of his mother and the duchess as they held a silent conversation. Was this what happened when the council actually had power? Was this why his father had disbanded them?
“I assure you, Duchess,” he began. “I am doing everything possible to heal our kingdom.”
Duchess Moreau tore her eyes from the dowager queen and rounded on him. “Does that include arresting those who’ve done nothing but voice their discontent? You got us into this mess with your rushed policy changes on magic folk. A king cannot just follow his every desire…” Her eyes met his. “Simply because he fell in love.”
“I–”
“What about receiving magical messages without informing your council?” she asked.
His hands shook at his sides. How dare she use what he told her in confidence against him now? Duke Caron leaned forward.
“Ara?” he asked hopefully.
“It doesn’t matter who it was,” the duchess snapped as she pointed one long finger at Alex. “This man is not fit to be king. Even if he were, Gaule will not be at peace while the crown sits on his head.”
Alex had no words.
Betrayal burned through him. “You can’t take my throne. I am the rightful heir.”
Her icy gaze flew over the rest of the council, her face set in grim determination. “Actually, your Majesty, we can.”
She gestured to a guard who stood by the wall. He opened the door, and a servant walked in, handed a rolled parchment to the duchess, and left.
She unrolled it slowly.
“I hold in my hand a declaration of transfer, signed by all members of this council save one.” Her eyes flicked to Catrine who had a disturbed grimace on her face.
The moment rushed by, happening too quickly for Alex to fully grasp it. They were taking his throne.
And he knew, this was the reason his father stripped them of power. They could have destroyed him.
One of the few allies he thought he’d had was destroying the only thing he’d ever wanted in life.
But even that was a glorious lie. He’d never wanted it; he’d just had no other choice.
It didn’t change the facts though. Gaule was his.
“You’ve been planning this,” he rasped. “Since the day I was attacked. You convinced each member of my council…”
“I am sorry, your Majesty, but we do what we must for the good of the people.” She turned to Catrine once more. “We need one final signature.”
Her sad eyes found her son, glassing over as she considered her decision. Without taking her pained gaze from his, she picked up the pen to sign the transfer and Alex could only watch as even his mother stole his kingdom out from under him.
“It is done,” the duchess said, rolling the proclamation and tying it with a ribbon. “Alexandre.” No title, just his name. “You are no longer part of this council. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”
A guard appeared at his side as if he’d protest, but he couldn’t think clearly enough for that. He stood frozen for a moment.
“You can’t to this.” His words sounded hollow as if they had no meaning. “I am the king. Gaule is my birthright.”
The duchess’ expression softened. “Gaule will always be yours, Alexandre, to love and to protect. But it is now ours to rule. There is a grander purpose for you, I’m afraid.” She nodded to the guard.
A firm hand gripped his arm, leading him into the hall as the door shut with a definitive slam. It was gone. His purpose. His duty. Everything.
He started toward the courtyard, disbelief clouding his mind. None of it felt real. One meeting and everything he’d worked his life for was finished.
If only Father could see him now. He’d know he’d been right. Alex had failed. No guards followed him. Why would they? He was no longer king. Instead, he was simply a prince. He sucked in a breath as his slow steps brought him to the north tower. Amalie and Camille were sitting atop the wall and they spotted him before he could back away.
“Are you coming up or what?” Camille asked.
He sighed and climbed the steps before dropping down beside them.
“Alex, what’s wrong?” Amalie touched his arm lightly.
He closed his eyes, a single tear escaping. He’d done such a good job holding it together, but now as they looked to him for answers, all the emotion broke free.
“They took it,” he said softly.
“Took what?” Camille asked.
“My crown.” The words pierced his heart. How could this happen? How could he lose the one thing he’d been born for? “Duchess Moreau convinced them. They removed me from the throne.”
“They can’t do that!”
“They can, sister. And your husband was part of it.”
“I’ll talk to him. Alex, you’re the king. No one else. It can only be you. Who is going to rule if not the first-born Durand? It has to be a Durand and I refuse.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s over. There’s nothing you can do.”
“There’s–” Amalie cut her off.
“I’m sorry.”
Alex grunted.
Silence fell over the three of them like a blanket.
“You’re going to leave me too, aren’t you?” Camille asked in resignation. “Wait, don’t even answer that because I know what you’re going to say and it’ll be wrong.”
“Camille, I–”
Camille started to laugh and Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard that sound coming from her. Confusion mixed with amusement in his eyes as she clutched her stomach.
“I think she’s finally lost it,” Amalie whispered.
When Camille calmed enough to speak, her eyes were swimming. “You never did want to be king. All those years, I resented you for being father’s heir when you didn’t even want it.” She breathed out slowly, one hand still gripping her side. “But then I saw what it did to you.”
“What it did to me?”
“Yes, Alexandre. This role that was thrust upon you. Gone was the easy smile I’d always been envious of and the obvious joy. The crown weighed on your head like chains around your neck.” She shook her head. “My jealousy turned into pity… and a bit of respect.”
“Just a bit?”
She held up two fingers close together. “This much.” A smile softened her harsh face. “I didn’t want it anymore after that. How did Gaule end up with two heirs who don’t want the title and a third who was no heir at all?”
Amalie chewed on her lip at the mention of Tyson. They should have seen it all along. Ty was the best of them, too good to have been fathered by the man who led Gaule into the purge.
“But, Alexandre.” She leaned across Amalie to look him directly in the eye. “You’re free.” The sun reflected off her irises, making them glow as they held steady with his own. “The only question left is what are you going to do with this freedom?”
Amalie didn’t wait for him to respond to his sister before she jumped in. “I’m coming with you.”
“What?” he asked.
“To Bela. I assume that’s where you’re going.”
“Um…”
“She’s right, brother,” Camille said. “We’ve all heard about Ara’s message.”
“What?” He sighed. It shouldn’t surprise him that the news had wound through the palace. If Duchess Moreau was planning to denounce him, she’d have wanted to put rumors into play. Only, this time they weren’t rumors.
“I don’t like Etta,” Camille stated bluntly.
Amalie rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”
“No, hear me out. I don’t like her. I think magic is dangerous still. BUT, there are things far more dangerous than Persinette Basile. Gaule cannot help Bela in this fight. We’d stand no chance.” She scanned her brother’s face. “You, Alexandre, no longer represent all of Gaule. Perhaps it’s time you go fight for something greater than a throne you never wanted. You and Etta are connected. You’re probably the one person who can help her in this.”
“As long as I get to come.” Amalie crossed her arms over her chest. “If you get to fight for Etta, I can fight for Ty. Plus, I’m probably better with a sword than you, anyway.”
Camille grinned over the top of Amalie’s head. “She’s got you there, brother. You’re terrible with a sword.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Camille.”
“For the insult?”
“No, for everything.”
He stood and pulled his sister to her feet, slipping her cane back into her hand. Looking over his shoulder, he caught the determination in Amalie’s eyes.
“Fine,” he said to her. “We leave at first light.”
She nodded once, trying to conceal the satisfied smile on her lips as she broke off from them to head for her rooms.
Alex and Camille walked in silence toward the royal family wing and found Simon outside Alex’s rooms.
Alex knew what that meant. He pushed inside to find his mother waiting. She paced the length of the room nervously, stopping in her tracks when she noticed her son and daughter. Tears streamed down her face.
The door shut and Duchess Moreau appeared behind them.
Alex held back the growl that tried to work its way up his throat for the woman who had just usurped his throne.
Instead, he cleared his throat, not giving any of them time to speak. “I am going to inform you of a decision that you now have no say over. Without a crown on my head, the council does not decide my movements inside Gaule… or across the border.” His voice was cold as he tried to keep the emotion from it.
“This palace has always been my home, but it is no longer where my path lies. Tomorrow, I will leave for Dracon. Any who will join me are welcome.” He nodded toward the duchess. “You may go. We have no need of each other any longer.”
She didn’t move. “Alexandre.” There was no sadness or regret in her voice, only… hope? “We have named a replacement and will hold the coronation in three weeks’ time once the villages and estates across the realm have been informed as to what has occurred this day.”
“How could you possibly have named a new heir? Gaulean law states it must be of the royal family. Tyson is gone. Camille would refuse you. You have already betrayed me.”
A moment of silence stretched into two and it was his mother who spoke next. “There is yet one person who wants to heal Gaule.”
Why hadn’t he seen it? It was so simple. She’d been able to quiet the mob with a single speech. The people loved her in a way they’d never loved him. If he hadn’t been so determined to hold on to his crown, he’d have given it to her himself.
“Queen Catrine,” he whispered, raising his eyes to meet his mother’s. “Was that the plan all along?”
“No,” she gasped. “Of course not.”
Camille’s hand slid into his and she squeezed.
“Alexandre.” Duchess Moreau clasped her hands in front of her. “I am sorry it had to happen this way, but there would never be peace with you as a king. You said it yourself.” She walked toward him, her dark hair swinging down her back. “You must go. If Ara says you are needed, I believe her. For all of us, you have to leave. Your place is there.”
Realization crashed into him and he stepped back. “You did all of this just so I would join the battle against La Dame?”
“These are dark times, Alexandre.” She pursed her lips. “There is a village near my estate where you will find some who will join you in your journey into Dracon to join the fight. I wish you well. Tell Persinette that she holds all of our lives in her hands.”
With those words, she left. Catrine rushed to her children and pulled them both against her. The betrayal Alex felt before now extinguished slightly, leaving only a few lingering doubts. They’d done what was best for both Gaule and Bela. At least, he hoped they did.
“I’m sorry,” his mother whispered.
He leaned back so he could look into her face and brushed aside her tears. “You’re going to give this kingdom a peace they’ve never known, mother.”
She smiled. “Thank you for saying that.”
Camille sniffled and Alex laughed. “Are you crying, Camille?”
“Shut up,” she groaned.
“I just don’t think I’ve seen you cry since we were kids.”
“I have something in my eye.”
“Yeah, those are called tears.”
Catrine swatted the back of his head. “Alexandre, stop teasing your sister. She’s just worried about you.”
Camille groaned again. “Mother.”
“What? When someone in your family is about to leave the kingdom to go fight against a woman who is more powerful than pretty much the rest of the world put together, I think you’re allowed to worry.”
“You’re my mother,” Alex said. “Aren’t you supposed to give me more confidence?”
“No.” She snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m supposed to let you know that we love you.”
He hugged her again and this time, when he released her, he knew he was doing the right thing. It no longer felt like something had been taken from him. Instead, he’d gained it all. Everything. A different future than he’d ever expected. A chance to fight for what he believed in.
Etta.
She needed him.
I’m coming. He sent the thought into the atmosphere as he prepared for a new kind of journey, a new kind of battle.
Don’t give up. I’ll be there.