The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  But when I found her, sitting in an empty patient room, she was quick to embrace me. "Galian, I'm so sorry."

  "For?"

  "This whole mess with the Raven girl. Your father has no right to force you to marry her—"

  I laughed, unable to take the absurdity anymore. "It's not like that. It's..." I sighed. "Theo was there with me. On the island."

  Olivia's eyes widened, then her brow furrowed, and finally she nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, I suppose that makes sense. I did find it hard to believe you could've survived two months on your own."

  "Hmph."

  "I'm serious, Galian. You're a talented doctor, sure, but...?"

  "Well, you're right, I guess," I said, scratching the back of my head. "I was pretty much worthless except that I stopped the bleeding and saved her life on that first day. But after that, it was all Theo." I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "She's..."

  "She's her, huh?" Olivia chuckled to herself.

  Glancing around, I retrieved my wedding band from my pocket. "She's my wife, too. But we can't tell anyone..."

  "Not with the way your father is promoting this wedding, no," Olivia said with a sigh. "It's quite the romantic story. A prince and a pilot. Warring nations. Forbidden romance."

  "It doesn't seem all that romantic," I muttered. "Especially considering how much things have gone to absolute shit recently."

  She quirked a brow. "That's an apt description."

  "That's part of why I wanted to talk to you," I said. "Our communication lines have gone down. We need to be able to talk with Jervan and Herin. See if maybe they can intervene in some way—"

  "Are you talking an escalation to the war?" Olivia asked. "You'd have Herin and Jervan fight your father over a single island?"

  "It's not just about Rave. It's about basic human rights. Grieg's going to reopen barethium mines in Rave. He's going to be even more ruthless than he has been in order to maintain power."

  "He's already begun," Olivia said wearily. "Mansela is missing."

  "She's in Rave—"

  "They say she's in Rave, but it's been a week, and neither of her parents have heard from her. We never got along much—being on opposite sides of most issues—but I did care for her. She was a passionate woman who cared deeply for this country." She stared out the window. "Your father may have lost Mael, but he gained a whole country to imprison people in. And that's why I'm headed to Jervan by the end of the week."

  "W-what?" I said. "You're leaving the country?"

  "It's not safe for me anymore," she said. "I don't think it's safe for any of us. I sent my father away the night of the Midsummer's Ball. I couldn't risk Grieg doing anything..." She sighed. "But I needed to stay behind and get everything in order before we move. Now, it seems even I can't ignore the writing on the wall."

  As much as I hated to see her go, I was glad. "If there's anything you can do for us in Jervan or Herin..."

  "I'll certainly try," Olivia said. "War is bad for business, but so is your father's power unchecked. I'd prefer it if we could resolve it without more bloodshed."

  "Believe me, if we could, we would've done it by now," I said with a small smile. "I just wish you and Theo could've met. I think...I think you guys would've found a lot to talk about. She's...well, she's amazing."

  Olivia offered a tense smile. "She must be, to have made you a one-woman kind of man."

  "Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad," I scoffed.

  "You were pretty terrible," Olivia said with a smile. "But truly...you're happy?"

  Despite everything, I grinned. "Yeah."

  "Well, I suppose you and I were never meant to be."

  "Hey, my brother's still single..."

  "Queen?" She blanched. "I've got my own kingdom to run. I don't need to add Kylae's troubles to the mix."

  I laughed and hugged her once more, bidding her safe travels. And as she walked through the door, I prayed that it wasn't the last time I'd ever see her.

  TWENTY

  Galian

  "Shit," Theo said, as I relayed what Olivia had told me. It was still early, and I'd awoken with a particular need to make love to my wife. But as we basked in the afterglow, we caught each other up on the previous day's events.

  "It could be a good thing," I said, kissing her collarbone. "If Olivia's actually in Jervan, she could help ferry messages for us. She could be an asset."

  "Is she willing to be an asset?"

  "I think so," I replied, stroking the skin of her hip. "Peace is best for her company. And without my father's money, she can't rebuild her port in Duran."

  "Maybe Emilie could convince Grieg that giving aid is best for the country. I have no idea how she managed to weasel her way into his good graces." She frowned. "And Rhys stopped by last night. We got another report from Johar. Veres is burning—literally. And now there's a mandatory curfew from dusk until dawn." She sighed. "I wish I was there. I wish I was doing something."

  "I'm kind of glad you aren't," I said. "I like you here. Where I can do things to you every morning." To prove it, I traced a finger down the side of her body.

  The side of her mouth turned upward. "You're like a dog with a bone."

  "We have months to make up for," I said, trailing kisses down her stomach. "And technically, this is our honeymoon."

  "Oh no," she said, propping herself up onto her elbows. "This is not our honeymoon. This is the farthest thing from a honeymoon."

  "I'll arrange for a week on the island, how about that?" I kissed her hip, her stomach, the inside of her thigh.

  "Oh yeah," she said with a grin.

  "Your wish is my command, Princess—"

  She half-groaned, half-whimpered. "Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again."

  "How about I just call you amichai?"

  "Yes, please." She arched her back, spreading her legs for me. I loved every moment of this game, watching her anticipate my next move, the playful banter. I was rock hard again—

  Rap-rap-rap. "Rise and shine."

  Theo let out a groan that was most certainly not an orgasm and all blood flow to my groin ceased.

  "Tell her to go away," Theo cried with an uncharacteristic pout.

  Rap-rap-rap. "I can hear you. I'm not going away. We have a schedule today. And His Highness is late for work."

  "Are you seriously going to work today?" she asked, cracking open an eye at me. "Are you kidding me? What good is us being married if you aren't here to help me fight off these idiots?"

  "But you said you had a handle on Emilie," I said, feigning innocence. In reality, the last thing I wanted to do was hang around and have our relationship dissected. Emilie scared the shit out of me, and the less time I spent in her presence, the happier I was.

  "Galian."

  "Mom wanted me to keep working!" I insisted, crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

  "Yeah, and you also said you'd come home right after you met with Olivia," Theo said. "And you didn't get back until midnight."

  "We got slammed at the hospital!"

  "Bull. Shit."

  I stood in the doorway. "Theo, come on. I told you this was how it was going to be."

  "No, you didn't," she snapped, throwing the bedsheets off. "You said we were going to work together—"

  "In-between my time at the hospital. Theo, I need to be there to courier messages."

  "Really? Were you couriering messages until midnight last night?"

  "No, I was saving lives."

  Her eyes narrowed, and her anger was palpable from across the room. She stalked toward me, her lips pressed into a fine line, her eyes flashing dangerously. She swiped her dressing robe off the ground and wrapped it around herself. Then, with one final glare that informed me just how in trouble I was, she stormed through the bedroom doors.

  Theo

  Oh, that man made me so angry. One minute he was concerned, and the next, he was leaving me to fend for myself.

  Well, if he thought he was going
to kiss his way out of this one, he had another thing coming. My downstairs was off-limits to husbands who didn't fulfill their end of the bargain.

  I slammed the doors behind me and puffed out a breath.

  "Stop being so melodramatic," Emilie tutted, sitting at the writing desk in the parlor. An assortment of makeup and brushes lay before her, and she was testing it on her own skin with the finesse of an artist.

  "The queen has decided that you will be accompanying her on a trip to the slums," Emilie said, checking two dark eyeshadows on the back of her hand. "Against my strong recommendations."

  "I'm going to the slums today?" My anger at Galian vanished. This was...this was good. I'd finally be able to talk to some people, maybe even get a message to Anson.

  "Yes, in less than an hour, so we'd better be quick. I've put together an outfit for you—red and silver, to match the Kylaen flag—but I'll need to do your hair and makeup." She picked up the foundation, tapping it against her skin first. "Unfortunately, my request to have a Raven makeup artist was denied by the king. So I suppose I'll have to step in and make you look presentable."

  "Can't get everything we want, hm?" I said with a daring smirk.

  "I can also make you look like a clown, so watch that tone."

  I sat down across from her and let her work. My gaze kept drifting to the door, where I was sure my husband would be coming out any moment. Just thinking about him drove a hot knife of fury into my chest.

  "You look like you're about to murder me. I thought you'd be happy about this?" Emilie said, painting my lips.

  "I am," I forced out, tearing my attention away from my bedroom.

  "Well, I'm not. Your first official event with refugees? Do you know how bad that looks?" Emilie shook her head. "I haven't even had time to arrange the official engagement photos. The first impression these Kylaens are going to have of you is you hobnobbing with street urchins. They'll consider you one of them."

  "Or, it'll show how caring I am."

  "No, 'neechai," Emilie said, taking her brush to my hair. "These people already think you're garbage."

  I chewed my lip, tasting the makeup. "What does it matter what they think?"

  Emilie stared at my reflection and shook her head as she reapplied my lip stain. "It matters."

  "Hey, beautiful." Galian strolled out of our bedroom, his hair still wet from a shower. The smile on his face was adoring, and I wanted to slap it off. As if he was going to get out of this argument with compliments. "Where are you going?"

  "Slums," I said, refusing to look at him. "Charity photo opportunity. Aren't you going to work?"

  He met my gaze in the mirror and frowned.

  "Well? Go on. You were so eager a minute ago," I snapped, turning to Emilie and looking at her eyeshadow with great interest.

  He stared at me a moment longer before crossing the room and planting a gentle kiss on my cheek. Then, with one final, uncertain look, he left.

  "Oh my goodness, that was awkward," Emilie said, grabbing the blush and applying it to my cheek. "Trouble in paradise?"

  "Tell me more about this event," I said, punctuating it with a warning look.

  Emilie, thankfully, took the hint. "The queen has asked you to accompany her to visit a food dispensary. She's hoping to bring attention to increase donations from other Kylaens."

  "What is a food dispensary?" I asked.

  "Exactly what it sounds like. For those too poor to afford their own food, the Kylaen government offers a ration. I'm sure the queen will tell you what she needs from you when we get there."

  "I'm not riding with her?" If I wasn't riding with Korina, I wouldn't be able to talk with her in private about why she'd arranged this meeting. I was starting to get annoyed with all these Kylaens promising me they'd help me and then leaving me on my own.

  But lucky for me, there was one Kylaen I could count on. Kader was at the wheel of the car that picked me up, which filled me with so much relief, Emilie even commented on it. Good old Kader.

  It took us some time to drive to the poorer part of the city, but I knew when we'd arrived. It had the same dilapidated, dirty facades as the buildings in Veres. Street urchins loitered under awnings and in alleyways, watching my car with an unsurprised interest.

  "Have fun," Emilie said as Kader slammed the front door.

  "You aren't coming?" I asked.

  "It's not my preference."

  "Why, because they're beneath you?"

  Her eyes were sharp. "Because I would prefer that your narrative not be sullied by my presence. In case you're unaware, I'm not that popular anymore."

  Kader opened the door and waited for me to walk out. I glanced at Emilie, who had busied herself in her notepad again.

  "C'mon," Kader said gently, and I finally stepped out of the car and let him lead me into the building.

  Korina was already hard at work, talking with reporters with a genuine smile on her face. They stood at rapt attention, holding out recording devices and soaking up every word.

  And pointedly ignoring the other occupants of the room, the refugees. Some were missing limbs, some had burns, but even those who were whole still looked malnourished, haunted. They, like me, were in a country that thought them less than dirt. And also like me, they were slowly running out of places to go.

  They stood against the walls in filthy clothes that hung off their thin frames, gazing at the floor but seeing nothing. The photographers walking amongst them ignored them in favor of snapping photos of the queen, and the Ravens seemed content to be ignored. These appearances by rich Kylaens must've been nothing new, and must've done little to actually improve lives.

  "So how does this work?" I asked Kader.

  "The Kylaen government rations a certain amount of food each week. They're waiting for their turn." He nodded to a child nearby, who clutched a scrap of white paper in his hand.

  "And what am I supposed to do?" I asked.

  "Nothing. Stand here and smile and have your photo taken."

  I blanched. "These people are starving and you expect me to do nothing to help them?"

  "Larger goals, Theo," Kader replied, glancing around the room. "I'm going to see if my contact is here." He paused. "On your left."

  "My, my, not anything to look at, are you?"

  Kader's warning had been for a gray-haired, sharply-dressed woman. She drank in the sight of me like I was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen as she twirled her pen in her hand.

  "How does it feel to finally be amongst your people again?" she asked.

  "I'm sorry, who are you?" I blinked.

  "Gaetna Zygmont, how lovely of you to join us." Korina was beside me in a moment, extending a pale hand toward the woman, who took it graciously. "Though this isn't usually the sort of assignment for a lead news anchor, is it?" She gestured to the room. "A simple photo opportunity?"

  "The first with the future princess of Kylae." The woman's beady gaze landed on me, and despite my best efforts, I gulped. "Tell me, was it your idea to spend the day with your kinsmen, or the queen's?"

  "Ms. Zygmont, I thought we'd agreed to no interviews," Korina said.

  "Just a few questions. The Kylaen public is dying to know more about Major Kallistrate from the woman herself. The press releases the castle puts out are so...underwhelming."

  "Well, we do the best with what we have," Korina said with a small shrug.

  It was easy to look offended, but harder to remember that Korina was playing a role. Especially in front of this new woman, who I assumed was someone important in the media, it made sense to pretend I was an unwilling participant.

  "Theo, dear, why don't you make yourself useful?" Korina said, throwing me a knowing look. "Ms. Zygmont and I can discuss the specifics of the wedding. I know how it bores you so."

  Zygmont looked like she'd much rather stay and talk with me, but Korina was insistent and led her to the other side of the room next to the window. Still, I had a feeling that Zygmont wasn't going to give up that easi
ly.

  I needed to keep myself busy, because standing in the center of the room like an idiot wasn't helping anyone. Especially because no one was actually receiving food through the small window. Those that I saw on the other side of the wall seemed in no hurry to feed the hungry.

  Well, Korina had told me to be useful.

  There was a small door beside the window, and it was unlocked, so I walked through into the kitchen. It appeared to be similar to the ones back in Vinolas—multiple burners, lots of big pots and pans to make a lot of food quickly, a large icebox. But back in Vinolas, at least, the kitchens were always a hum of activity, getting ready for the next meal. Here, the Kylaens sat around a small table, playing a card game.

  "Excuse me—" I started, but their reactions were swift.

  "Get the hell out of here!" The woman who spoke was large, with a red face, and she didn't even bother to stand as she addressed me. "Feeding starts in an hour."

  "There are hungry people out there now," I said, placing my hands on my hips.

  "So wait in line with the rest of 'em," she replied. "Or we'll call the police."

  "Um..." I glanced at the closed door. "I'm...I mean, I'm not..." I swallowed and hated myself. "I'm Prince Galian's fiancée."

  "And I'm Prince Rhys' shoe shine girl. Get out of my kitchen."

  "Excuse me, is there a problem?" My hero, Elijah Kader, appeared behind me through the door.

  "This migrant's trynna get more food."

  "This migrant will be your princess in three months, so I suggest you give her food to hand out. Or shall I get the queen in here?"

  They stared at him, but, apparently, his Kylaen citizenship afforded him greater respect than my impending marriage. Their chairs scraped the floor as they rose to stand, grumbling about dark-skinned idiots and some other insults I chose not to take personally. The one who'd yelled at me—the head of the kitchen, I assumed—went to the icebox and yanked out a bag. She waddled across the kitchen and thrust it into my hands.