The Awakened Prince

by Elise Marion

  She’d endured it all with blind acceptance, understanding that such plans had been made for the good of her homeland and the people depending upon her. It had been senseless to fight against her own course, as being the last person—male or female—left in the royal line of the Guthries of Barony meant there was quite a lot riding on her slender shoulders.

  Now, everything had changed and she found her life had no definite plan or course.

  She felt aimless, even a bit purposeless, just waiting for a strong wind to come blow her in some direction. Ever since her husband had been killed, she’d been waiting. The wind never came, so she stood motionless, anticipating something significant enough to push her out of the daze she had been living in since the day they’d lowered Lionus’ coffin into the ground.

  While sparring with the man circling her while wielding a fencing foil, Isabelle attempted to fight through the sudden burst of pain that always struck at the thought of her dead husband. As it turned out, even engaging her body could not stop her mind from settling on him—his short life, their time together, his death. All of it over too soon.

  Even though an entire year had passed since his death, she found the anguish to be as relentless as ever. She’d been told that time would heal her, but thus far that proved untrue.

  Though it would now be seen as appropriate to put aside her black widow’s weeds, she had yet to do so. She clung to the ugly, shapeless gowns just as tightly as she held on to her memories, afraid that once she allowed herself to become whole again she would begin to forget the man she had loved with all her heart. And to her, that would be the greatest tragedy of all.

  She only set the mourning garments aside for her daily fencing sessions with Vernon, donning a stable boy’s old breeches and coat. Those garments, however, were still black and in keeping with the proper colors for a widow, so she didn’t let herself feel too guilty over it. Fencing was the only thing giving her an outlet for the restless energy simmering in the deepest parts of her.

  Her sparring partner halted mid-lunge and stepped away from her, seemingly putting an end to their bout. Isabelle followed his gaze toward the lone figure striding toward them. Her fencing sessions occurred almost daily—between breakfast and lunch—and everyone within the palace knew this. If someone had come to disturb her, it must be regarding an important matter.

  She recognized her brother-in-law, the man who had become king following the death of her husband. The soft breeze tousled his pale blond hair, his long legs carrying him toward her at a swift pace.

  He was before them in what seemed no time at all, smiling down at her with all the warmth born of their long relationship. Isabelle had lived at Rothchester hall for most of her life, having been raised alongside the young princes. With her already promised to Lionus, the younger two brothers had become like family—dear, wonderful friends who felt like her brothers in truth.

  “Good afternoon,” Damien called out, hands in the pockets of his trousers.

  Two of the four men making up her royal bodyguard remained nearby for her safety, though they made it a point to step a discreet distance away to give her privacy. Sent with her from Barony when she’d been smuggled out of the kingdom, they’d been charged with her safety. Cardenas was decidedly safer, having been at peace for decades. However, the violence and unpredictability of Barony’s rebel forces were not to be taken lightly, and so she was never without them. With Vernon as their leader, they worked to keep her safe during every hour of the day and night. They were good about being unseen and silent when necessary, a skill Isabelle greatly appreciated.

  “Hello,” she replied, resting the tip of her foil against the grass and giving him a little smile. She was aware that the motion might come across strained, but it proved the best she could do at the moment.

  “I had hoped to find you alone,” he replied. “I wanted to have a word with you.”

  She motioned for her guards to give them a bit more space, sensing from Damien’s tone and expression that this would be a sensitive conversation.

  “Of course. Is everything all right?”

  “Shall we walk?” he asked, offering his arm.

  She took it, and with her sentries trailing behind, allowed him to guide her along a pathway to the gardens. Green hedgerows closed it in, with gates here and there offering various ways in and out of a maze with a fountain at the center.

  “It has been some time since we discussed your future,” Damien stated. “I think we have waited long enough. Don’t you?”

  She nodded, though she’d been dreading this conversation. Damien had graciously given her more than enough time to come up with her own plans, and she hated to disappoint her brother-in-law by telling him she had none. Life had been at an infinite standstill for the past year, and Isabelle had no notion of how to move beyond this point.

  “I know Cardenas has been your home most of your life. Rothchester Hall is familiar to you, as is our family. However, I think we must now discuss you going back to take your rightful place in your own homeland.”

  Barony … she knew everything there was to know about it. Gayle, her devoted nanny, had educated her on the history of her family and kingdom. Now that she’d grown too old for a nurse, the woman served as her lady’s maid, and never ceased to remind Isabelle where she’d come from and where she would one day return. Yet, Barony seemed as foreign as any other place she had never been.

  “I’d hoped to go back under different circumstances,” she said. “I don’t know what I will do once I return.”

  “The way I see it, you have two options,” he replied. “If you don’t mind my being so forward, I would like to tell you my opinion.”

  Isabelle smiled, finding it a bit easier this time. “Adare was like a father to me, which means you are like my brother. I welcome any advice you would give me and value your opinion.”

  Damien patted her hand, seeming encouraged by that. “Well, you could return to Barony as queen and rule over your people as you were meant to. The laws of succession there aren’t the same as here, and a female descendant of a king may inherit the throne. You upheld your part of the contract between my family and yours, and are no longer beholden to us. You are of age, and there is nothing stopping you from this course of action. Naturally, I would still offer you the assistance of Cardenas’ military, and not just because it would be in our own best interest to end the conflict once and for all. I’d also do it because no matter how short your marriage to Lionus was, you are still family. Besides, we’ve been planning with Barony’s general, and we are now prepared to make a move against the rebel forces.”

  Her heart plummeted at Damien’s suggestion. Though she had been instructed in the ways of ruling a kingdom, Isabelle had always understood that she would do so with Lionus at her side. She’d never dreamed she would return and rule Barony alone. Despite her education, she couldn’t help but question whether she had what it would take to single-handedly govern a kingdom ravaged by war and extensive poverty in some places.

  “I know you are more than capable, Isabelle,” he continued, as if having read her thoughts. “I’ve already written Lord Primus, who was your father’s grand vizier and now acts as steward to the throne. He has assured me that he will be there to guide and advise you in every capacity.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve given this a lot of thought,” Isabelle said.

  More thought than she had, obviously. It had been difficult, trying to see past a future that had been destroyed.

  “I want to make things right.”

  The scents of chrysanthemum, goldenrod, and crocus greeted them as they entered the garden. Surrounded by the green hedges, they ventured toward the sound of the gurgling fountain at the center.

  “No one could know things would happen this way,” Damien added. “I am trying to make decisions that will mend this for everyone.”

  There were few people who knew better than Isabelle just how true that was. As a third son, Damien had never bee
n meant for this position, yet Lionus’ death and Serge’s declined health had forced the responsibility onto him.

  “You’re doing an admirable job,” she assured him. “You mentioned a second choice?”

  He cleared his throat, his gaze darting away from her. “You could … that is, I was hoping maybe … you could marry.”

  If the thought of ruling Barony alone had made her heart sink, the prospect of marriage caused it to plummet even further.

  She stopped dead in her tracks, forcing him to halt beside her. “Marry?”

  Damien sighed, his expression grim as if he’d expected a fight from her. “You would have to eventually, in order to secure the future of your throne and your family’s royal line. You could return to Barony with your husband and rule with him, as you were meant to with Lionus. Your chosen husband and I would work together to restore peace in your country.”

  Isabelle sighed, reaching out to pluck a lavender crocus blossom from its place among dozens of others. She smoothed gentle fingers over the petals as she mulled over Damien’s suggestion. If she thought of it in a practical way, it made sense. The plan had been for her to marry a man equipped with everything Barony needed—royal blood, wealth, and military experience. The realm itself would likely not care if that man happened to be someone other than Lionus—so long as he was wed to the daughter of their dead monarchs, and did what the realm required of him.

  But, when she thought with her heart and not her head … how could she possibly give any thought to marriage when her heart belonged to a dead man? How could she share her life with someone else? Her bed?

  Just now, it didn’t feel as if an entire year had passed since Lionus’ death. It felt as if he’d just died yesterday.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for marriage,” she murmured.

  “I knew you would say that,” Damien interjected. “But before you rule out the idea, bear in mind that I will not choose a husband for you. I am leaving the selection entirely up to you. You could choose to wed someone from among Cardenas’ royal court, or perhaps you could select a husband from amongst your own court in Barony. I would be willing to make suggestions as to those most qualified for the honor of being your husband if you wish.”

  “I can tell you have put much more thought into this option than the first,” she scoffed. “Why does that not surprise me? You say that you believe in my capabilities to act as queen, yet you are trying to force a husband on me.”

  “Isabelle, no one is trying to force anything on you. I am only thinking of your well-being. It is time for you to move on with your life, and I simply want to help you find the best path toward a good future.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting down her annoyance. Damien meant well, and it was hardly his fault she hadn’t prepared herself for this day. Surely, she’d known it would come. As the only surviving royal of her bloodline she had a duty to fulfill, one that included marriage and bearing children. The time had come to attend that duty.

  “May I ask who you have in mind?”

  “It is someone you know,” he hedged.

  “Well, that narrows it down to several dozen.”

  “He is of noble blood, and would make an excellent ruler. Besides, marrying someone you already know would make it so much easier, don’t you think?”

  “If you don’t tell me who it is, I will not be held responsible for my actions,” she declared with a huff and a very princess-like stomp of her foot.

  Damien grinned and turned to walk away, tossing the name over his shoulder right before disappearing behind a well-manicured hedge.

  “Serge.”

  * * *

  “Damien wants you to marry Serge?” Esmeralda’s tone was shrill with disbelief as she digested Isabelle’s news. “Are you certain you heard him correctly? Or that he wasn’t jesting?”

  “I am sure,” she replied. “He said the final decision would be left up to me, but he wasn’t shy about making sure I understood he was strongly suggesting our brother-in-law.”

  Her friend glanced up at Isabelle from where she sat on the floor of her private salon, skirts fanned around her in a decorous display. The women of the house joined one another in this room each day for tea and gossip, today’s topic being the prospect of Isabelle getting married again.

  She and Damien’s wife had become fast friends, despite circumstances that might have created animosity between other women. Isabelle didn’t blame Esmeralda for things outside either of their control—like the death of Lionus, or Damien’s unexpected ascent to the throne. Instead of being bitter over circumstance, she chose to embrace a chance to be there for Esmeralda, whose life had been forever changed by her marriage to Damien. Isabelle had thrown herself into helping her friend learn all she needed to know about life amongst the royal court and the duties of a queen.

  Tea and pastries consumed, they now worked to sort through piles of colorful glass beads for Esmeralda’s mother, who sat in a nearby chair using them to fashion a necklace. Isabelle added a few pale blue stones she had found to those Esmeralda held, and continued searching.

  “Well, he is right about one thing,” Esmeralda mused. “Marriage to someone you already know is the easier choice. Who wants to wed a stranger?”

  “I don’t see why I need marry at all,” Isabelle said, heat rising in her. “I have already been married once, and can hardly be expected to go rushing to the altar so soon after becoming a widow.”

  “It was only a suggestion,” Raina mumbled, head still lowered over the string of beads she formed. “You could always select the other option. Go back to Barony and take up your throne. It is what you were born to do.”

  She nodded her agreement. “Yes. It is what I was born to do, and according to Damien the people have become restless awaiting my return.”

  “They grow restless for a king,” said another voice from the doorway.

  Esmeralda’s grandmother, Akira, shuffled into the room, leaning on a wooden cane. She had the same golden brown skin and inky black hair as her daughter and granddaughter, though her strands had become streaked with gray. The old Gypsy woman fixed eerie, yellow-gold eyes on Isabelle and held her gaze. As always, Isabelle experienced a tingling awareness at the base of her spine. It was as if Akira deciphered her deepest thoughts, seeing through to her very soul.

  Esmeralda’s family revered her not just as their matriarch, but as a woman of deep wisdom and power. ‘The sight’ … that was what they called this gift Akira was said to possess. She had used it to make a living as a fortune-teller before her granddaughter’s marriage to a king, which had served to elevate the entire family.

  Isabelle knew her talents to go beyond the simple reading of a palm or turn of a card.

  “I believe a woman can rule just as well as any man,” Isabelle replied, forgetting the beads laid out in front of her.

  “That may be,” Akira replied. “But the fate of Barony will lie within the joining of a king and queen. But not just any king. This man has already been chosen by destiny.”

  Destiny. Fate. Words Isabelle no longer believed in. How could she, when everything she’d ever wanted had been snatched away? She wanted nothing to do with any of it.

  “The King of Barony was chosen by my parents before I was even weaned. He is now dead. I see no reason to go looking for another.”

  Akira stepped forward until she leaned over her, reaching down to grip her chin with one brown, gnarled hand. She tilted Isabelle’s head back and stared at her, seeming to peer at her very soul.

  “Hear me, Princess,” she murmured. “Do not let your heart become so clouded by bitterness that you lose your way on the path. Only when the warrior king and queen are joined will the fate of your kingdom be certain. It will be a long, hard road, but in the end good shall prevail.”

  Akira loosened her hold on Isabelle’s chin and turned to leave, leaning more heavily on her cane than before. The three women sat in silence until she was gone, pulling the door closed behi
nd her. Isabelle let out the breath she had been holding with a heavy sigh, her mind reeling from what had just happened. It was as if for one moment, everything around her ceased to exist, and only Akira’s words had penetrated the haze. Not the first time this had happened, but she didn’t think she’d ever stop being shaken to her core by it.

  “I’d better go look in on her,” Raina said, concern wrinkling her brow as she stood and smoothed her skirts. “She becomes weary when she has exerted herself too much.”

  The two younger women were left alone as Raina left in search of her mother.

  “What do you make of that?” Isabelle asked, turning to her friend.

  Esmeralda shrugged and gave a little shake of her head. “Grandmother usually speaks in riddles, but if you can figure out what she’s trying to say, it will be easier for you in the end. She is always right.”

  “I suppose I should give some more thought to this idea of marriage, then.”

  She’d rather suffer the attentions of a dentist, but was aware of how important it was for her to consider all her options—even the one that saw her married to a man she’d grown up seeing as a brother, a friend.

  “Do what you think is best,” Esmeralda replied. “I should think you’d be glad for a chance to make your own decisions for a change.”

  “That’s just the thing,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose to stifle a developing headache. “I have never had to decide anything. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  And therein lay her biggest problem. Her parents, the advisers and guards who had protected her, and even the Rothchester family, had all done what they could to act in her best interest. But by making every decision for her from birth, they had, in a way, disabled her. They’d made it so that when faced with what might be the most important choice of her life, she had no idea which decision would prove the right one.