The Heir Boxed Set

by Kyra Gregory

  On the other, however, appearances mattered whenever he was outside the palace walls. While he could get away with running down the palace staircases, his hair dishevelled, his shirt untucked and his jacket undone, such behaviour was kept from the curious gazes of foreign dignitaries.

  Instead, he walked down the steps in a calm and measured manner, each step quiet, the heels of his boots only subtly echoing in the wide open spaces. There was no laughter or chatter, only a contemplative expression, a subtle nod of his head and a flash of a polite smile as a greeting to anyone he crossed.

  “I realise I came on a little strong earlier,” King Niles said, pausing from enjoying his food. “Tell me,” he said, licking his lips, “what is she like—this woman you’re to marry?”

  Riffin did his utmost to keep from the confusion from showing on his face. The King had gone from holding no interest at all in his future bride, to suddenly wanting to know what she was like.

  “She’s a remarkable woman,” Thane said, before Riffin could say a word.

  King Niles and Prince Pietros looked to Thane with slightly raised brows. As far as they were concerned, Thane had spoken out of turn—he was not of noble blood and he was not titled. To Riffin, however, Thane was a saving grace, replying when he himself could not.

  Thane never looked up from his meal, though Riffin had no doubt that he was well-aware of the scrutinous gazes upon him as he busied himself with the food on his plate. “She’s bright and well-read, like her father, and she’s skilled like her mother.”

  King Niles wiped his mouth, looking down his nose at him, “Do you approve of this woman the Prince is to marry?” he asked.

  A flash of something Riffin couldn’t quite place, amusement perhaps, crossed his friend’s features. “His Royal Highness and I shared an education,” Thane said. “He and I partook in the same lessons and were educated by the same tutors; if you think his judgement to be misinformed you will have no greater opinion of mine.”

  “You have most certainly been afforded plentiful opportunities,” King Niles said, “growing into a young man.” He smirked, “It is curious,” he said, “that you know your place so well—and defy it so brazenly in the same instant.”

  “Call it a character flaw,” Thane said, not a hint of remorse in his tone.

  “I would suppose that is what becomes of a man who has been granted the education of a noble born, only to lack the responsibility of one.”

  “I have been granted the best of both worlds,” Thane said, glancing at the King from beneath his lashes.

  Riffin sighed, “You cannot hold disdain towards every single person who does not have noble blood,” he said.

  “I do not despise every person without noble blood,” he retorted.

  Riffin licked his lips, “You once loved a woman, did you not?” he asked. He looked up to meet the anger within King Niles’ eyes, unfazed in the slightest by it. “You don’t love your current wife, that much has always been clear, but you once loved a woman—a woman you once desired to make your wife.”

  King Niles’ expression grew more bitter, a darkening of his gaze that would have been chilling if Riffin had not seen it countless times before. “There is a price to be paid for love and I paid for that desire dearly,” he said.

  “And would you have it that everybody else do the same?” Riffin asked, his voice softer, countering anger with sympathy. “Why not let others be happy with those they love? Just because it was denied to you, doesn’t mean it should be denied to everybody else.”

  Prince Pietros stopped eating, humming somewhat in agreement, “He may be right,” he said, glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye.

  “How are the children?” Riffin asked. It was his attempt at breaking away from the subject, though not entirely so either. “I have yet to see them.”

  And he wouldn’t. He rarely did. They were rarely present when he visited and it didn’t take much to realise that it was taken as a precaution.

  It came as no surprise that precautions were made. Ever since King Niles stole the throne from his superiors, there was no precaution he hadn’t taken to see that his family was safe when visitors were present. He must have reckoned how simple his claim to the throne had been when he was able to decimate everyone before him in a single siege. Thus, the family was so very rarely whole under a single roof for fear the same would happen again.

  Before either of them could reply, everything on the table shook. Ripples formed in the water jugs and cutlery clattered against the tableware. Then, the sensation intensified, the sound of an eruption occurring in the distance.

  Casting his gaze around, watching the startled expressions across everybody’s faces, Riffin’s hands clenched around the armrests of his chair. “What was that?” he murmured.

  Chapter 4

  THANE BOLTED TO HIS feet as quickly as the King and his brother did. He was the first one to the window, squinting into the darkness. He didn’t even have a moment to open his mouth, to turn to them and ask questions before a guard came hurrying into the room, “Your Majesty,” the guard called.

  King Niles approached him, Prince Pietros in tow. Thane approached Riffin, “A bomb, most likely,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Where?” Riffin asked.

  “Not in the Capital, that much I’m sure,” he replied, breathlessly. “Whatever this is, we need to get you out of here.”

  “It could be nothing,” Riffin said.

  “And it could be something,” Thane argued through gritted teeth. “And I cannot risk the life of the Queen’s heir on a case of ‘could’ or ‘could not.’”

  Thane barely gave him a moment to speak. A quick glance over his shoulder and they both saw the smoke billowing in the distance. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked, turning to the King and Prince.

  “Nothing to be concerned about,” Prince Pietros replied.

  “That is not for you to decide,” Thane said, speaking through gritted teeth.

  “Truly, it is nothing to be concerned about,” Prince Pietros insisted.

  Thane licked his lips. His face was burning, the overwhelming need to control a dangerous situation taking over, defying all possibility of acting diplomatic. “What has happened?” he asked.

  The King licked his lips and shifted his weight, “Nothing, truly,” he said.

  “If you are underestimating—”

  “We do not underestimate anything,” the King said. “We do not underestimate our enemies. You needn’t be concerned.”

  Riffin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, interjecting himself between the two, “Is there truly nothing to be concerned about?”

  “Nothing,” the King replied adamantly.

  Riffin looked to his friend, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth when faced with his apprehension, “If there is nothing that can be done then I shall be returning to my chambers for the night,” he said.

  Thane looked at him out of the corner of his eye and shifted with unease before he turned his attention to the King, “Agreed,” he said. “If our presence is no longer required, we will live you to your own matters.”

  “That will not be necessary,“ the King said with a growing smile. “We are not in harm’s way and such precautions are unnecessary.”

  Try as they might to convince them that everything was under control, their minds had been made up. Disgruntled as Ludorum’s royals appeared, the severity of the matter was clear on the face of the guard that had acted as a messenger, and they were allowed to leave with nothing more than well wishes for a good night.

  As composed as they could be in front of the King and Prince, Riffin and Thane stormed into their chambers, slamming the door shut behind them. “What is going on?” Thane asked in a whisper. He shook his head of confusion—the King and Prince didn’t conduct themselves in a manner they should’ve. They should have been far more concerned for their guest’s safety than that. “Are they always like this?” T
hane asked, fidgeting through his trunk of belongings.

  “Like what?” Riffin asked, sighing as he drew open the balcony doors.

  Thane marched up to the open balcony, retracting his spyglass before taking a peek through it, “Are they always so dismissive to their kingdom being set on fire?” he asked.

  Riffin shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

  Thane licked his lips and pulled the glass from his face, though never taking his eyes off the billowing smoke in the distance. “I will monitor it over night,” he said. “If it is safe, we will make the journey home at first light.”

  Riffin’s brows furrowed together, turning from the seriousness on Thane’s face to the view of the Ludorum kingdom. “Do you reckon that is necessary?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’m not willing to take that risk.”

  Riffin stepped back inside, pouring himself a drink. “Leaving suddenly, even so much as a day premature, will not bode well,” he said.

  Before he could lift the drink to his lips, Thane snatched it from his hand, taking a swig of it himself. “Neither will my having to explain to the Queen why her son is dead, or why he was caught in the middle of a dangerous situation,” he said, gasping over the taste of the alcohol.

  “I doubt that will be necessary,” Riffin chided in a dismissive tone. “That is not even on our path back to Lionessa,” he said, gesturing to the balcony.

  “Which is why I would have us leave early,” he said. “I would not give it the chance of getting in our way.”

  Riffin bit his tongue, lowering himself onto the couch. He watched as Thane dropped his spyglass back into his trunk, grabbing the bottle from the bar and pouring himself another drink. The young man’s otherwise easy-going nature had started to dissipate, replaced by the nervous energy that a seventeen year old should never be weighted by.

  “We will be fine,” Riffin said.

  Thane met his gaze. Then, his shoulders dropped. “You’re probably right,” he murmured. Again, another explosion rocked the ground beneath the palace. The chandeliers above them shifted, the ornamental pieces chiming against one another. Thane sighed, gritting his teeth together for a moment as he poured himself another drink. “It is going to be a long night,” he murmured.

  Riffin chuckled, hanging his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. He had the right mind to be worried; he wanted to scold his friend and tell him that, if he keeps drinking the way he is, he won’t be any good in protecting him. Instead, he bit his tongue, reasoning with himself that Thane held his drink reasonably well and would never put him in danger.

  They left Ludorum’s palace the next morning, when the smoke had stopped billowing in the clear blue skies. There was little animosity in the matter, but their abrupt departure was still deemed unnecessary in the eyes of the King and Prince.

  It was only when they had seated themselves in the carriage, the horses drawing them along the path to the gate, that Riffin found himself squinting in the sunlight. In the distance, playing in the gardens, running along the gentle slopes of the hill, he could make out three children. Although it had been some time, they were familiar enough. They were relatives, however distant they may have been.

  Riffin leaned back in his seat, glancing at Thane with furrowed brows, “Didn’t the King say the children were away?” he asked.

  Thane leaned forward, casting his gaze out the window to take in his view. He pursed his lips together, nodding. “He had,” he said.

  And, yet, the children were there. Why? Riffin couldn’t help but wonder. The cogs in Thane’s mind were working equally fast.

  As the carriage exited the gates, they lost sight of his distant cousins, but with them they took the many questions that their short stay had tainted them with.

  ***

  “It is curious, don’t you think?” Riffin asked his mother, speaking boldly, a fair bit louder than he may have needed to. He couldn’t help it—whenever his mother seemed indifferent, hardly intrigued by what he had to say then he raised his voice, hoping that she would take his words with a little more seriousness. “The children are away, a precaution normally taken,” he said, “and, then, ‘nothing of concern’ happens, as he put it, and suddenly he draws his children in closer.”

  “Perhaps the children had been in close proximity to the explosion,” his father said. “Threat or not, perhaps he saw it fit to bring them to a strongehold more protected than the one they had first been in.”

  Riffin shrugged his shoulders indifferently, “Why place them anywhere other than a secure one?” he asked. “And, were it truly nothing, why would such a thing concern him enough to take them from it?”

  “It does not matter,” Queen Sybelle said, rising to her feet. She sighed heavily, stopping just short of her son, “All that matters is that you are here now,” she said. “And that you are both safe,” she added, looking to Thane, showing him a smile of gratitude.

  “Does it not concern you?” he asked, softer this time. “They are lying to us, clearly!”

  “It does not surprise me that they are liars,” she said, amusement in her tone. “If they are lying, news will come from our spies before long.”

  Deros hummed in agreement, shifting his weight as he drew two pieces of parchment from the marble-topped table, “There are matters closer to home to discuss,” he said.

  Riffin raised his brows at him, eyes growing larger. He couldn’t imagine that anything could have happened in the few days he was gone. He’d heard of nothing along the way, not from the guards on the Lionessan borders, or from nobles he had visited along the way.

  His mouth filled itself with questions but, instead, he watched as his father handed his mother the pages he had retrieved. She extended them to him with a single glance, explaining, “It would appear that rumours of your search for a wife have reached the mainland,” she said. “You have received a few petitions from nobles to marry their daughters—three from Evrad and one from Lionessa.”

  Riffin felt his breathing cease. He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in the back of his throat—the lump that stifled all desire to ask questions, out of fear of what their answer may be.

  Deros sighed, taking a seat at the table, “I imagine once word gets around, we will be inundated with more of them,” he said.

  Queen Sybelle tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, sighing, “So,” she said, meeting Riffin’s gaze, “since you are required to marry, you had better do so soon.”

  ***

  The journey to Azura was always filled with excitement. As a child, he would love the trips across open waters, feeling the sway of the ship, looking out across the waters in search of the creatures talked about in his story books. As he got a little older, he marvelled at the idea of watching a pirate raid, just like the ones Jared would tell his parents about. A little while after that, the thought of meeting his friend on the other side was all he needed. No longer did he require stories to quell his impatience as he made the journey to visit one of his dearest playmates.

  When he would see the fort on the horizon, towering over the bay, his heart would become aflutter with the same nervous excitement that would have spurred him to convince his parents to make the journey in the first place. It would grow and grow, the thudding of his heart in his chest almost superseding any single thought in his head.

  As a teenager, that excitement grew into passion, into desire, into a hot flush that would burn his cheeks like nothing else ever had. While his heart thundered in much the same way, he grew adept at having conversation, all the while feeling all that he felt.

  But as they would enter port, he would leave the side of whoever was accompanying him. He would be the first, standing portside, waiting for the ramp to be laid across onto the pontoon.

  As he became an adult, eighteen years old, and bearing the responsibilities of the Heir of a kingdom, he was no longer allowed to run across. He had to stand and wait, allow the men on t
he docks to show him proper greetings. As a child, he could get away with it; the men and women would chuckle and giggle, finding amusement in the childish nature of the young prince.

  As an adult, a lot had changed and, on this journey, everything had changed. That excitement that he had cherished with such fondness was still there, buried beneath a nervousness that verged on fear.

  He was unable to help it. If everything were to go his way, he would be engaged to be married by the end of this journey. If not, if he was refused, he had to resign himself to the fact that he would have to marry another.

  This journey was not filled with longing. It was filled with dread. A dread which came with its uncertainty. The days of daydreaming the life he could have were gone. Suddenly, he was faced with a future that was less to his liking. If her parents refused, if she refused, he would have to leave Azura behind. He would have to return to Lionessa and face his mother. He would have to tell her that the woman he hoped to marry had refused him. Worst of all, it would prompt his mother into having to accept more letters, more suitors, until she found just the right one.

  He didn’t know what a refusal would mean for them. He didn’t know on what grounds Malia, or her parents, could refuse him, but if that decision was made then he would be at the mercy of it. There would be nothing he would be able to do about it.

  He couldn’t stand the thought of it. He couldn’t even imagine how he would react. The mere idea of it was enough to cause his stomach to turn.

  Whatever the reason, whatever it meant to them, the end result would be the same. He would have to marry someone else, reign beside someone other than the woman he loved, have children with a stranger...

  No—the days of day dreaming were gone. Now, day dreaming brought about harsh realities—ones he would rather not have to stomach.