by M. Lynn
Maiya put an arm around Amalie’s shoulders, letting her healing magic soothe Amalie’s pain.
“Do you know the punishment in Gaule for thievery?” Amalie lifted her face to peer at her friend.
Maiya shook her head.
“Hanging.” Like her father. Like her sister.
It seemed she was doomed to watch the people in her life meet the noose one by one.
Only this time, she couldn’t let it happen.
“What are you going to do?” Maiya asked.
“Find him.” Amalie breathed. “I will find him.”
Chapter Two
Two letters. One fate.
Tyson Durand stared down at the papers in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed in his small one-room home near the palace of Bela, but he didn’t need to read the words to know what they said. He’d committed them to memory.
The first came months ago, almost a year to the day after they’d returned from Madra. Camille, the sister he’d once considered power hungry and cruel, no longer wanted the throne of Gaule.
Their mother had named her heir once Alexandre married and became the king of Bela.
No one thought Camille had been an adequate choice at the time, but she’d grown into a woman they would have supported.
And Tyson… he was more Belaen than Gaulean. The magic running through his veins should have been an automatic disqualifier. The people of Gaule would never support him.
Brother, I know this puts a lot onto your shoulders, Camille had written. You’re the only one of us left to carry on the family rule. Durands had ruled Gaule for centuries. His mother wasn’t of Durand blood, but she’d married one who was.
If he was being honest, Tyson didn’t have a drop of Durand blood in him either. His true father was Viktor Basile. But he was raised a Durand. His brother and sister were Durands.
You’re the only one left.
He crumpled up his sister’s letter. It wasn’t a surprise. She was marrying the queen of Madra’s brother and staying in the kingdom across the sea. At least she’d have Helena there with her. She may be queen now, but Tyson knew her. She’d watch out for Camille. Madra was known for its scheming ways, and Len would make sure Camille didn’t fall into old habits.
Tyson thought of the young queen more often since receiving the letter. Helena never expected to be the queen, yet she did what she must to help her people.
Helena was the noblest ruler Tyson had ever met … aside from his sister, Etta.
He’d waited patiently for the other letter he held, and it only confirmed his fears. It was a summons to the palace of Gaule. His mother had a plan, she always did.
He didn’t know when he’d grown to distrust his mother. Maybe it was when she sold Quinn Rhodipus to his brother after Cole Rhodipus stole the throne of Madra.
Maybe it was when she allowed Gaule to fall to pieces.
She’d lost control, and that was unlike her.
He stared at the summons again. What would she do if he refused it?
Send another.
And another.
She wouldn’t give up. Eventually, she’d send Simon across the border to drag him to the place he’d once called home.
He couldn’t refuse her. No matter what he thought of her decisions, she was his mother and she’d always protected him.
Footsteps sounded in the doorway of his house. He’d helped build it himself and loved every inch of it. It was time he had his own space. He couldn’t live with Alex and Etta forever.
A throat cleared, and he looked up into his sister’s sympathetic eyes. Etta was once a cold and seemingly uncaring woman, but the past couple of years had made a difference in her. She was… happy.
It stopped grossing him out that his brother and sister were married the minute he saw them in their new home. Alex and Etta shared no parents, but they each shared one with Tyson.
Etta kicked the door closed behind her and threw herself down beside him on the bed, taking the paper from his hands.
“When did this come?” she asked, scanning the document.
He sighed. “Two days ago.”
Her only reaction was a raised eyebrow. None of them had reconciled with his mother after she openly supported the usurper king in Madra.
“Maybe it’s time.” She passed the paper back to him.
He pushed a hand through his dark hair. “I know. Something is happening in Gaule, and I need to know why my mother has let it fall so far.”
Etta pursed her lips. “Ty… being a queen isn’t easy even in a kingdom like Bela where the people support my every action. I can’t imagine what ruling Gaule must be like. That kingdom has always danced on the edge of a knife, ready to fall into disruption and chaos.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t want you to go alone, though. It isn’t safe. Take Edmund.”
“Edmund has refused every mission you’ve assigned him that would take him away from Estevan.” Edmund’s boyfriend had suffered many traumas at the hands of his own brother in Madra – Cole Rhodipus, a man who wanted Estevan’s throne; a throne Estevan ultimately gave to his sister.
“Stev needs separation,” she finished for him. “He gave up his throne in Madra and hasn’t been able to fully settle here because Edmund keeps watching his every move as if he’ll break. It’s been more than a year and Estevan needs to stand on his own two feet. I’m going to give him a position working for me. He knows how to run a kingdom, and I don’t want Edmund hovering.”
“So, you’re making me deal with Edmund?”
She nodded. “Please… just take him.” The corner of her mouth curled up. “Before I tie him up with vines and hang him over the cliff just so I can get peace and quiet in my house.”
Tyson almost laughed at that, but he didn’t find humor in many things lately. Etta had the magical ability to make things grow. It wouldn’t be the first time she used her powers on Edmund, but he usually deserved it. He may have his own home with Estevan, but he spent just as much time imposing on Etta’s.
Tyson sighed and Etta grinned. They both knew Tyson felt better with Edmund by his side. Over the past few years, he’d been his best friend, the only person who didn’t ask him why returning to Gaule whenever his mother asked hurt him so much. He seemed to understand without Tyson having to say her name.
Amalie.
Tyson laid back to stare at the ceiling, his chest constricting. “I guess I’m going to Gaule.”
Etta laid beside him and bumped his shoulder. “Hey, you know it’ll be okay, right?”
He snorted. “You always say that.”
“And I’m always right.” She was quiet for a moment. “Maybe when you’re there you can—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” He knew what she’d been about to say.
“I don’t understand any of it, Ty. You and Amalie…”
He cringed at the sound of her name.
Etta continued. “I was sure you two would last forever.”
He had thought so too.
He’d fallen in love with Amalie Leroy when she was betrothed to his brother, Alex. She’d become his friend first, exploring the castle at his side. She’d fought beside him in battle and risked her life for his.
He would have done anything to keep her safe.
“Etta—”
She gripped his arm. “Edmund told me about the last time you saw her.”
They’d taken Helena and Dell to Amalie’s estate because Dell was mortally wounded and needed the magic of a healer in Amalie’s residence.
“He said there was a lot of anger between you two. I’ve seen you change over the last two years, Ty. You’ve gone from the happy boy I knew to a man with hardness in his eyes and drink in his belly.”
He turned onto his side to face his sister. They hadn’t grown up together, but he felt like he’d known her his whole life. “I know you’re worried about me, but I’m okay.”
“Do you promise?”
He nodded.
She closed
her eyes for a moment before sitting up. “I won’t keep asking you about it, Ty, but I hope you know I’m here for you.”
His lips tilted into a rare smile. “Will you tell Edmund you’re kicking him out of the kingdom, or shall I?”
Before she could answer, Tyson’s door burst open and a panicked Alex rushed in. Etta sat up. “What’s wrong?”
Alex’s eyes flicked around the room as if searching for something he knew wouldn’t be there. “Viktor. He’s gone.”
“Gone?” Etta jumped to her feet. “What do you mean gone?”
One of the few things Tyson enjoyed lately was watching Etta and Alex obsess over their new son, named for her father.
Alex ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “I left him asleep in his room and walked out to the stables because Vérité was kicking his stall. After I fed the beast, I did more work in the barn. By the time I returned to Viktor’s room, he’d disappeared. This is why I keep saying it’s time to have guards stationed at our home.”
Etta’s jaw clenched as worry entered her gaze. “Okay, don’t panic. We can’t panic.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “Don’t panic? Our son is gone. It’s the perfect time to panic. We have too many enemies.”
Etta shook her head. “No one from Dracon or Gaule could get through Bela unseen. We’d have heard about it.”
“Well, then where is he?” Alex yelled.
Tyson scooted to the edge of his bed. He knew exactly who had Viktor. Who always took him. But Etta and Alex weren’t of sound mind.
They didn’t notice Tyson pushing past them into the sunlight beyond his door. The seaside village bustled around him. Carts full of fish and grains rumbled down the road, pulled by raggedy looking horses.
Shopkeepers did their best to attract customers, wafting smells out onto the streets. Tyson’s stomach growled, but he didn’t stop. He reached the end of the road and turned the corner into an alleyway leading to a door he knew too well.
He pushed it open without knocking to find a laughing Viktor lying on the fur-lined rug on the floor. Edmund hovered over him, tickling his sides and muttering nonsense in a voice he’d never want anyone to hear.
Tyson shut the door. “Again, Edmund?”
Edmund glanced up, not surprised by Tyson’s presence. He only shrugged before returning his attentions to the baby.
Tyson crossed his arms. “You realize he’s Alex’s baby, right?” Tyson counted in his head, waiting for the door to open again. Etta and Alex only needed a calm moment to think before realizing where they’d find their son. The door opened, but Tyson didn’t turn.
Edmund kept his gaze on the kid. “Alex is a boring old man who doesn’t snuggle this baby enough.”
Alex cleared his throat.
Edmund still didn’t look at them. “Yes, Viktor. I know your papa can hear me. It doesn’t make it any less true. Aren’t you glad your uncle Edmund is around?”
“Edmund.” Etta sighed. “You can’t keep taking him.”
Edmund lifted Viktor from the floor and cradled him against his chest. “I’m his uncle. If I walk in to your house and find him awake, I can’t just walk away. He was looking at me with these eyes that said ‘snuggle me’.”
Tyson suppressed a laugh. Snuggle me?
Alex held out his arms, but Edmund shook his head. “You’re just jealous of my snuggles.”
“Stop saying snuggle, Edmund.” Tyson covered his mouth with his hand.
Edmund shielded the baby from them and whispered “Don’t listen. I love snuggles.”
“He’s my son.” Alex stepped forward. “I want to snuggle him.”
Etta couldn’t hold in her laugh as she leaned into Tyson and dropped her voice. “Are they fighting over baby snuggles right now?”
Tyson nodded. “Sure you want me to take Edmund? This is entertainment.”
“Please. Just get him out of here. This is the third time he’s absconded with Viktor this week claiming uncle duties.”
Another presence loomed in the doorway. “Edmund.” Estevan sighed. “Give the queen and king their son back. We’ve gone over this. Uncle duties don’t give you the right to steal children.”
Finally, Edmund relented. “When he grows up and loves me more than the rest of you, it’ll be your fault.” He set the baby in Alex’s arms.
Etta stepped away from Tyson. “Now that we’ve solved the great uncle crisis, you’re heading to Gaule with Tyson.”
Edmund gave Tyson a shocked look. He knew more than most what lay in Gaule. There was a lot Tyson never told him though. About his time there. About Amalie. But Etta was right. He needed Edmund with him.
Edmund always had his back. Tyson never knew his true father and his mother was a distant queen now, but he was surrounded by people who loved him.
Amalie Leroy never had such a family.
Before heading into Gaule, Tyson had to clear her from his mind. He wouldn’t be going near the Leroy estate. It was time he stopped dwelling on his past because Amalie Leroy had no place in his future.
Chapter Three
Three Years Ago
War ages a person.
Tyson felt every one of his sixteen years and many more. In Gaule, most commoners would be married at his age. They’d spend their days working the fields or manning their shops and then go home to a family. Each day would be the same.
But not for a prince who didn’t know which kingdom was his. He was raised as the son of the Gaulean king only to discover his true father was none other than Viktor Basile, descendant of the Belaen kings.
He had magic, but still didn’t know where he belonged. Among the magic folk?
An arm wound around his waist and he relaxed his stance to let Amalie into his moment.
“Why are you out here all alone?” Her voice calmed the darkness inside him, washing away the confusion in his mind. He knew where he belonged. With her.
“It’s hard to think around the noise.” He closed his eyes, listening to the waves crash along the shore.
She leaned in to him, letting the silence sink into their bones.
Only a week ago, Tyson rode beside his sister, Etta, as she faced the sorceress, La Dame. They’d won, but it hadn’t come without cost. He’d thought everything was lost. He’d lost faith in Etta. In himself.
And then the wall crumbled to the earth and on the other side was Alex. His brother had come. Behind him was a small Gaulean contingent. Amalie rode at his side. She’d faced the worst thing any of them had ever seen. For him.
He tightened his grip on her. If he hadn’t known it before, he’d realized it then.
Amalie Leroy was his future.
They’d never crossed the line between friendship and… more. Growing up, she’d only been Alex’s betrothed. Then she became Tyson’s companion in many of his misadventures.
“Amalie,” he whispered.
She stopped him with words of her own. “We should return to the party.”
Away from the beach, in the little town they’d created in Bela, the people celebrated their return home. They mourned those they lost and rejoiced in having a kingdom of their own, safe from foreign rulers.
Amalie turned to leave, but Tyson grabbed her hand to stop her. It was a new life post La Dame. Their world had fallen down around them and yet here they stood. Maybe it was their chance.
“Ames.” He tugged her back toward him, and she turned.
Dark eyes peered up at him, lit only by the silver starlight.
Her lips parted as she released a breath.
His lips curved into a smile. “I-I’m not sure I’m truly a prince anymore.”
Her brow arched.
He went on. “I have nothing. No house to call my own. Not a gold piece in my pocket.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “My only skill, that of the sword, is no use in peace time.”
Amalie’s laughter was like music punctuated by the drumming of the sea. “Ty, I can honestly say I have no clue where this is going.”
>
“Just listen, okay?”
She nodded.
“I am nothing. Not anymore. But Amalie…” His hand drifted up her arm and over her shoulder until his fingertips skimmed the curve of her neck.
Amalie’s smile fell as the words hung between them, both said and unsaid. She dug her fingers into his shirt and pulled him forward.
“You’re wrong, Ty.” Her words were only a whisper against his lips. “You could never be nothing.”
When she kissed him, Tyson believed. In the future. In himself. The war was over and there were so many possibilities. One thing had never changed. He loved Amalie Leroy.
Chapter Four
Present
Home. It was a strange word, implying a warm feeling of comfort. As Tyson glanced up at the towering walls of the palace he’d once called home, wariness sat in his stomach like a stone.
The last time he visited the Gaulean castle, he escorted the princess of Madra on a quest to save her brother.
So much had happened here and not much of it good.
Edmund rode up beside him. “The palace of Gaule is so grand, yet I’d rather ride toward the small home Etta calls the Belaen castle.”
Tyson didn’t take his eyes from the wall as a foreboding stirred in his chest. “Me too.”
Edmund wasn’t happy about leaving Stev, but—as Tyson knew it would—his duty overrode personal feelings. Stev had pleaded with him to go, to keep Tyson safe. He said he owed it to Ty after how much he’d risked to put Helena on the Madran throne.
Tyson didn’t see it that way. He’d needed something to fight for. It didn’t matter it was a foreign princess battling with one of her brothers or that Etta initially said Bela didn’t belong in the war. She’d eventually come around and done what he knew she would.
Unlike his mother.
Ignoring Edmund’s chatter beside him, Tyson rode through the open gates. The outer castle teemed with activity. It operated much like a village with shops and rows of houses. His horse knew the way because he’d been there many times over the last three years. At the stables, a lad he didn’t recognize took the horse from his care, leaving Tyson to walk through the inner gates on foot.
