by Morgan Rice
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I did not mean to disappoint. I did not mean to fall in love with Stara. I did not even seek to see her.”
“Yet when you saw her, you did not turn away. That was your choice. Those were your actions. You might make one lonely woman happy. But think of how many others you will hurt.”
His mother shook her head.
“It is no longer about you,” she added. “You will come to see, as you grow, that lust is oft mistaken with love, and lust is a childish thing. As you get older, you’ll find that love, true love, is about commitment, responsibility. Especially for you—a member of the royal family. We are not regular people; we are all actors here. The entire kingdom looks to us. We are a spectacle for the masses, and little more. Don’t fool yourself. Pacified masses means the royal family can rule. Your life is not private. People look to you. You cannot cast a pall of dishonor on the royal family. You have given your word, and you must honor it, above all else. Without that, what would we be? What worth would the royal bloodline have?”
Reece’s forehead was covered in a cold sweat, and he reached up and wiped it with the back of his hand. His mouth was going dry as he contemplated his mother’s words, so piercing, as always.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he said again. “I have lived my entire life for honor. I do not mean to dishonor anyone.”
“Indeed you do,” she retorted.
“I did not set out to dishonor Selese,” he insisted. “Yet I love Stara. Is it not wrong to ignore one’s feelings?”
“Feelings are temporary,” she scoffed. “Actions are permanent. You could follow your passions if you were a commoner. But you are not. You are a King’s son. You don’t have the luxury to follow your feelings. You do what is right, what is expected of you. You do not betray the one to whom you have given your word, who has put her faith in you.”
She sighed.
“Stara will be hurt, true. But that is one person. The rest of the kingdom will be happy. You may regret it your whole life. You may hate it; you may hate me. But that is the price you pay to be in the royal family. There are many forms of honor. The honor sung of in battle is the easiest kind. Honor in daily life—that is hard. You must display honor in love as you would on the battlefield. One is not more important than the other. Show me an honorable warrior who has betrayed his wife, and I’ll show you a man who is worth less than nothing.”
His mother’s tone was harsher than Reece had ever heard, and he realized they were the sounds of a woman on her deathbed, a woman with no time left, with nothing left to lose, and with urgency in her message. It was a tone Reece barely recognized.
Worst of all, he knew she was right. He hung his head low, wishing he were anywhere but here in this stifling chamber. He wished this dilemma had never fallen into his lap. How had his life become so complicated so quickly?
“You are not a boy,” she said. “You are a man now. Which is why you are taught honor from other men. Not from women. But that means you are only being taught half of what true honor means. It is past time you learned it from a woman’s side. For only then will you become a true man.”
Reece felt his entire face flush hot red. He felt more ashamed than he ever had in his life.
“You are right,” he said finally, his voice broken, the words difficult to speak. “My actions have disgraced our royal name. I gave my word, and I must keep it. Whatever the cost. Whatever the price.”
Reece hung his head, his world spinning, and he wished he could just die. Most of all, it hurt him that he had hurt his mother like this, especially on her deathbed. He wished he could take it all back. He wished now that he had never visited the Upper Isles.
Reece felt his mother squeeze his hand with surprising strength, and he looked up at her, tears in his eyes. He was surprised to see her smiling down at him—the old affectionate mother he’d always known.
“I’m proud of you, my son,” she said. “Your father would be too. You have listened, and you will do the right thing. Now go, and make Selese your wife. Use my ring in honor. And wipe the name Stara from your mind. The Upper Isles only breed trouble—they always have.”
Reece smiled, feeling a rush of love for his mother; at the same time, he also felt devastated that he would be losing her soon, his best advisor, the one person he trusted above all.
He leaned over and hugged her tight, crying over her shoulder at the thought of losing her, and she reached up and hugged him back, her frail arms gripping him.
“I love you the most, Reece,” she said. “Of all my children. I always have.”
Reece cried, overcome by emotion, as he knew what he had to do. He had to hurry to Selese, and before another moment passed, tell her how much he loved her. Tell her that he wanted her, and only her, to be his wife.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Selese exited the house of the sick and removed her frock, a broad smile across her face, done with her healing duties for the day. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, both suns shining, the wind blowing back her hair, and she breathed in deeply. She set off through a field of flowers, feeling a buoyancy she had not felt in years, dreaming with every minute of her wedding.
She felt butterflies in her stomach. Her wedding to Reece, the love of her life, was but a few days away, and she could hardly think of anything else. All morning, even as she was tending the sick, the hours had flown by as she’d imagined the wedding to come, saw her and Reece walking down the aisle together, saw the thousands of spectators that would be there to witness the joyous ceremony, the double wedding with Gwendolyn and Thorgrin. Most of all, she imagined Reece kissing her, holding him, taking their vows to be together for the rest of their lives. She imagined the joy she would feel in knowing that she was finally his wife, after all these moons of waiting, that nothing could ever tear them apart.
It was all that Selese wanted. Reece had taken her heart the moment she had laid eyes and him, and being officially wed to him would be the greatest day of her life—and the beginning of her new life. In some ways, she felt her life had begun the day she met him.
Selese broke into a jog, skipping through the fields, anxious to get back to King’s Court and finish all of her wedding preparations for the day. There were last-minute dress fittings, choices of flowers and bouquets, and sundry other matters awaiting her, and she did not want to be late for any of them.
“Selese!” rang out a voice she did not recognize.
Selese turned, caught off guard by the stranger’s voice, and was surprised to see, riding toward her through the fields, a man she did not know. He wore an armor of another place, and it took her a moment to recognize it was the dress of the MacGils of the Upper Isles. She wondered what he could be doing here on such urgent business, and how he knew her name.
“You are Selese, yes?” he asked, as he approached and dismounted, short of breath.
Her heart fluttered upon seeing the serious expression on his face. She knew Reece had recently traveled to the Upper Isles—she anxiously awaited his return—and she suddenly wondered if this man came bearing bad news, perhaps that Reece was ill or wounded, or that something bad had happened to him.
“Is everything okay?” she asked quickly, alarmed.
“My name is Falus. I’m the eldest surviving son of Tirus, of the house of MacGils of the Upper Isles. I come bearing bad news, I’m afraid.”
Selese’s heart pounded at his grave tone. She felt her hands begin to tremble.
“Bad news?” she echoed.
She immediately stopped, frozen, bracing herself for news that something bad had happened to Reece.
She rushed forward and grabbed the man’s wrist.
“You must tell me—is he okay?” she pleaded.
Falus nodded, and she sighed with relief.
“Reece is fine. That is not the news I bring.”
She looked at him, confused. What other news could he possibly have for her?
Falus held out a scroll, then placed it i
n her hand. Selese looked down at it, confused.
“I’m sorry to have to bear this news but we, the MacGil family of the Upper Isles, take our honor very seriously, and we thought it pertinent that you should know this right away. The man you love, Reece, is preparing to betray you. He is in love with someone else.”
Selese felt her entire body go cold at his words, as she stared back at him, baffled, trying to process what he was saying. She lost all sense of time and place; it was like a terrible nightmare unfolding before her.
She found herself unable to speak.
“My sister, Stara,” he continued, “Reece’s cousin, she is in love with him. And he is in love with her. Their love affair has blossomed ever since they were children. Years before the two of you met. On his recent trip to the Upper Isles, Reece sought out Selese and pledged his love, and vowed to marry her. In secret.”
He sighed.
“The scroll you hold bears proof of their love. You will see her letter to him, and his to her, each professing their love. You will, no doubt, recognize Reece’s penmanship.”
Selese’s heart pounded in her ears so loudly she could barely think. With shaking hands, she unrolled the scrolls, hoping this was all some awful lie, some terrible mistake.
But as she began to read, she recognized Reece’s handwriting at once. She felt like throwing up as she read his profession of love to Stara. The scroll seemed old, brittle, yet somehow she did not recognize that. She only focused on Reece’s words.
She felt her entire world splitting in two.
How could this be? How could someone like Reece, so proud and honorable, so noble and devoted, do such a thing? How could he betray her like this? How could he have lied to her? How could he love someone else?
Her head swarmed, trying to understand. None of it made any sense. Just a minute ago she was prepared to marry him. This was a man she loved him with every fiber of her being, a man who had made her whole life, and she had been sure that he loved her, too. Had she been so wrong? She had not taken Reece for a dishonest person. Was she such a fool?
“I’m sorry to bear this news,” Falus said. “But we thought you should hear it from us first. Reece has humiliated you before both kingdoms.”
Selese burst into tears. It was more than she could take. She wanted to respond, to tell Falus to leave her alone, to drop dead.
But her voice was stuck in her throat, and he had already turned, like a messenger of death, and taken off on his black steed, kicking it and charging farther and farther away, disappearing into the horizon. He rode through the fields of flowers, but now she could no longer see their color. Now they appeared as fields of thorns.
Selese looked at the scrolls in her hand, sobbing, her tears making them wet, running the ink. She reached down and tore them into pieces, again and again and again.
“NO!” she screamed.
With every tear, she felt her entire life being torn into pieces. Everything she had imagined, everything she had ever thought she knew, was now being torn to nothing.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kendrick stood before the bridge spanning the Western Crossing of the Ring, overseeing his men, supervising scores of Silver as they were hard at work on securing it, rebuilding it as it once used to be. Joined by several of his illustrious friends, including Atme and Brandt, Kendrick helped the men as they rolled a boulder, guided a new stone into place, repaired the railing. This bridge had undergone extensive damage since the Shield had been down, and too many creatures from the Wilds had used the opportunity to cross into the Ring during the Empire’s invasion.
Kendrick stood for a moment and looked out, and on his side of the canyon, he saw the countless corpses of those beasts scattered about the grass. As he watched, several of his men picked them up and hoisted them over the canyon’s edge. Over these last moons, scattered reports had filtered in of a random beast that had terrorized a village. Now, after all these moons of Kendrick and the Silver hunting them down, killing any beasts that had slipped in while the Shield was down, the reports were stopping. Kendrick was determined to make the Ring as secure as it had ever been. One day at a time, they were repairing all the damage that Andronicus had done.
Kendrick was thrilled to be back with his men, back with the Silver, strengthening the Ring—it was what, he felt, he had been born to do. He was thrilled that Gwendolyn had tasked him with leading the Silver, together with Erec, and making the Ring stronger, more secure. Erec had headed southeast to rebuild the forts at strategic points throughout the Ring, and had taken half of the Silver with him, while Kendrick had taken the rest of the men to fortify the canyon.
Kendrick turned and looked out over the canyon, and saw, on the other side, several beasts lurking in the Wilds, watching their work. With the Shield up, these creatures wouldn’t dare try to cross. Yet they still stood there, the Wilds teeming with them, waiting for their chance, whenever it should come, to cross again. Kendrick was determined not to ever let that happen.
“Raise that stone higher!” Kendrick called out to several knights, and they raised a particularly large boulder and secured it in place.
Kendrick surveyed the landscape, and still saw tremendous work that lay ahead for them. There remained countless villages here that needed securing, walls that needed to be repaired, bridges that needed to be rebuilt, crossings that needed guards. He would need to distribute the knights of the Silver strategically at certain posts, make their presence known to prevent lawlessness, and to remind the people of the power of King’s Court. The people needed to know they were being protected, watched over. And Kendrick had to prepare, in case for some reason there was ever another invasion of the Ring.
“My lord,” came a voice.
Kendrick turned to see his new squire running toward him, out of breath as he knelt. Kendrick was surprised to see him; he hadn’t seen him in moons, and he thought back to the last time he’d dispatched him. Kendrick had sent him, far and wide, to crisscross the Ring to see if he could discover any news about Kendrick’s birth mother, whom he had never met. It had been gnawing at Kendrick, and he had felt an ever-burning desire to know her, to know whom he hailed from. He hated the idea that he was a bastard in the world. And knowing that King MacGil was his father was not enough for him.
Seeing this squire return got Kendrick’s heart racing with anticipation. Had he discovered some news?
Kendrick had always hoped and dreamed that his mother was a princess in her own right, maybe in some other land, far away. Maybe that would explain why she had never come back for him. Perhaps she was separated by a vast ocean. Mostly, he just hoped that she was alive. He hoped that he could lay eyes on her, just once, if for no other reason than to ask her why she had abandoned him. Why she had never claimed him. Did she even know he existed?
Kendrick’s heart pounded as his squire stood, still catching his breath. From the look on his face, Kendrick sensed he bore news.
“My lord,” his squire said, gasping, “I think I have found her.”
Kendrick’s throat went dry as his squire reached out and placed half of a medallion in his palm. He looked down at the bronze medallion, held it up to the light, and slowly removed the necklace he had worn for as long as he could remember—half a medallion, bronze. His father had always told him that the other half belonged to his mother.
He held them up and was shocked to see it was a perfect match. There was a hole in the center, and the holes aligned, room enough for a thread to pass through, and for it to become one necklace.
It was authentic. His hands trembled to hold it; he had dreamed of this day his entire life.
“Where did you find this?” Kendrick asked, barely able to speak.
“In a small village in the northern part of the Ring, my lord. In a shop. I bought it from them. They told me a woman sold it to them.”
“A woman?” Kendrick asked. “Sold it?”
Was it his mother? he wondered. How could she sell it, the one and only connec
tion she had to him? Had it happened many years ago?
His squire nodded.
“Just a few moons ago,” he said. “They told me where she came from. And her name: Alisa.”
Kendrick stared back, dumfounded.
“Your mother lives, my lord.”
Kendrick felt his hand go limp, the medallion burning inside it, as he gazed out at the horizon.
His mother. Alive.
After all this time, he wanted to put it out of his mind; for a moment, he even regretted sending his squire on this mission.
Yet the more he considered it, the more he knew he could do nothing else. A burning curiosity rose up within him. His mother. Alive. What did she look like? Did she resemble him? Would she be happy to see him?
Kendrick looked out at the horizon, and knew he had no choice.
He had to find her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Luanda, finally on the right side of the Highlands, in the Western Kingdom of the Ring, breathed with joy as she rode with Bronson down the long road leading back to King’s Court. It felt so good to be home again. Waves of relief washed over her as she spotted her home, the place she had grown up, saw all the people—her people—milling about, the throngs heading into the city for her mother’s funeral. Finally, she was home.
Luanda was shocked to see King’s Court so resplendent, rebuilt, and more magnificent than she had ever seen it. It made her realize how long she had been away. For so many moons she had been banished, like a common exile. She could hardly believe what her sister had done to her.
And yet now she felt vindicated, being summoned back here by her sister for their mother’s funeral. Obviously, Gwendolyn had had a change of heart, had realized she had been wrong, and was changing her mind and allowing her to come back home.
Luanda breathed deeply as she rode behind Bronson, clutching his waist, the two of them riding down the slope towards King’s Court, feeling rejuvenated despite the somber event. Soon, Luanda would re-enter the gates of King’s Court, finally back to a civilized city. Perhaps, too, there were other reasons Gwendolyn had invited her back—perhaps word had spread of the fantastic job Luanda had done in helping put down the revolt, in killing all those McClouds and setting that hall on fire. Among the MacGils close to the Highlands, Luanda was now considered a hero. Maybe Gwen realized that, and was giving in to popular demand to have her return.
