The Heir

by Jessie Donovan

  “Not true. Disband the traitors and it will ensure peace.”

  “Unless you have a foolproof plan, that isn’t possible right now.”

  “So if I find a way to disband the threats, I can go back to my old life?”

  Keltor had no right to expect anything of Kelzal, but the male’s fervent desire to leave twisted his heart a little. “Perhaps. I’m not about to agree to anything until Azalyn wakes up.”

  The anger in Kelzal’s eyes faded to concern. “Is she worse?”

  “No.”

  Nor was she better, but Keltor wasn’t about to say that.

  Silence stretched. He wanted to ask his son about his work, his childhood, and a whole lot more. He was hungry to learn about the son he’d sired.

  And yet, Keltor’s father was waiting for him. If the Kelderan king were healthy, he might ignore the meeting. But King Kastor was closer to death every day. While they had never been close, he and Kastor had started to talk more as of late. Considering Keltor would be ascending the throne soon, he needed all the wisdom he could glean from his father while he still had the chance.

  Keltor nodded at Kelzal. “I’ll let you know if Azalyn’s condition changes. Regardless, I want you to have dinner with me later.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Then work harder to make up for the lost time. Dinner is not a request.”

  Before Kelzal could reply, Keltor exited the room and headed in the direction of his father’s quarters. His guards accompanied him.

  The end of his conversation may not have gone the way Keltor had envisioned, but he didn’t regret it. The young man had a bit of Azalyn’s temper and stubbornness, which meant sometimes Keltor would have to be firm.

  He only hoped that the next time he saw Kelzal, he could sound a little less like his own father and more like the father Keltor wished to be.

  ~~~

  Azalyn Rippak Sulani heard the whirring and beeping of the machines. The only problem was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move her body, let alone open her eyes.

  Yes, there was also dull pain emanating from her jaw, ribs, and abdomen, but she could handle that. Her injuries would heal.

  Lying still and being powerless, on the other hand, was going to drive her crazy.

  Of all the possible futures she’d imagined, being trapped in her own body hadn’t been one of them.

  Enough. It was time to stop whining and do something, anything, to pass the time. Because if she had to count the beeps of her heart one more time, she might go mad.

  More than that, if she couldn’t wake up, she would never get to talk with her son again.

  Thinking of her intelligent, handsome boy, Azalyn decided to forget about opening her eyes and focus on something easier, such as moving a finger.

  After who knew how many minutes or even hours had passed, she still hadn’t wiggled the digit. There had to be something else she could try.

  As she lay there, thinking of a new plan, male voices filled the room.

  The first one was a doctor she’d heard earlier in the day. “I’m not sure if this will work, your highness. I’d rather run more tests to ensure the proper dosage.”

  Azalyn wasn’t surprised to hear Keltor’s deep voice state, “I trust the Jasvarians and their recommendation. Despite her better judgment, my sister already used herself as a guinea pig so we know it’s safe for Kelderans.”

  Wait, how had they received something from Jasvar? Unless it had been sent via an express delivery pod. But that would’ve cost Keltor a small fortune.

  The doctor interrupted her thoughts. “Ms. Sulani could still be allergic, and it could kill her. Since her files were scrubbed from the Kelderan database, I don’t know anything about her medical history.”

  Keltor’s father had erased Azalyn from all Kelderan records, she was sure of it.

  Keltor hesitated before replying, “She had no allergies in her youth. Unless she developed new allergies in adulthood, she would want to chance it.”

  “That’s dangerous, your highness.”

  But exactly what I’d want to do. Damn Keltor and knowing her after all these years.

  For a split second, nervousness gripped her heart. If the remedy worked, she would soon be face-to-face with Keltor. He’d probably dismiss the doctor so that he could speak with her alone.

  Over the years, she’d thought of plenty of things to say to him. Part of her wanted to scold him for what he’d done, but another part was curious about the male who had orchestrated her rescue.

  As much as she hated to think rationally, she and Keltor had been teenagers when her life had come crashing down. If he’d known about Kelzal, she didn’t doubt that Keltor would’ve done right by her. Marriage might’ve been out of the question, but he would’ve kept her safe and provided for her.

  And yet, she hadn’t wanted him to “do right” by her because of a surprise pregnancy. All she’d ever wanted back then was Keltor the male. Her foolish, teenage self had wanted him to want Azalyn for herself, too.

  Not that it mattered. Given the state of Keldera and the growing antimonarchy faction, Keltor would never risk taking a commoner with no wealth or advantageous connections as his bride. On top of that, Azalyn had no wish to deal with the platitudes and geniality required of prominent public figures.

  The sooner she could tell him that, the better.

  Keltor’s commanding tone broke through her thoughts. “I will take full responsibility for what happens. I refuse to wait, especially as each day lessens her chance of waking up. Or, so you’ve said.”

  “But your highness, Jasvar is a primitive culture compared to our own. I’m not sure we should trust their strange medicinal plants.”

  Keltor didn’t miss a beat. “Prince Kason and Princess Kalahn recommended this medicine. Unless you’re questioning the entire royal family—my father would agree with me—then I suggest you give Ms. Sulani her injection.”

  The doctor’s commanding tone was replaced with a complacent one. “Yes, your highness.”

  While Azalyn had noted Keltor’s self-confidence and ease with command briefly back on board the Tallarian ship, when he’d been communicating with her captor via the video comms, it was strange to hear it again in person.

  Keltor was indeed a grown male and not the unsure teenager of their youth, who had struggled to find his place in the world.

  Something pricked her skin. A few seconds later, a burning flood of fire rushed through her body and forced her to gasp. Without thinking, her eyes popped open.

  But she didn’t have a chance to revel in that fact. Her entire body screamed in pain. Arching her back against it, she couldn’t control her own voice.

  As soon as her cries filled the room, a strong, warm hand cupped her cheek. “Just a few more seconds and it will pass, Azalyn,” Keltor said.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was about to stop fighting against the pain to welcome oblivion when it vanished as quickly as it had come. Slumping onto the bed, she tried to catch her breath.

  Keltor’s face appeared above her own. She tried to make her voice work, but all that came out was a croak. He never took his gaze from hers as he said in his infamous calm, princely voice, “Don’t try speaking just yet. Let me give you some water.”

  He removed his hand, and she tried to raise her arm to get his attention. But Azalyn’s body was heavy to the point she couldn’t do more than raise her fingers a few inches.

  The male voice of the doctor filled the space. “May I examine her now?”

  Even in her exhausted state, Azalyn easily detected the frustration in the doctor’s voice.

  “In one second.” Keltor gently placed his hand under her head to lift it and put a wet cloth to her lips. “If you can manage it, take as much water from the cloth as you can.”

  Once a few drops of water slid down her throat, she met Keltor’s eyes to say she was done.

  However, the fierceness she saw would’ve made her blink in
any other circumstance. Keltor had to fully trust the doctor in the room to reveal so much emotion.

  Though why he directed it at her, Azalyn had no idea. If anything, she expected him to be angry at her for keeping their son’s existence a secret for over two decades.

  Kelzal. She wanted to ask about her son since he hadn’t visited once while she’d been somewhat conscious. Was he okay? Had the Tallarians seen through the threat and killed him? Had everything she’d tried to do been for naught?

  The prince murmured, “Kelzal is safe, as is the Barren named Vala. While Vala has already gone to Jasvar, I’ll bring Kelzal by later, after you’ve had a chance to rest.”

  Vala was Azalyn’s friend and had also been a prisoner onboard the Tallarian ship.

  Her heart thumped a little slower at knowing both Vala and Kelzal were safe.

  Studying Keltor’s eyes, she wondered how he could still read her expressions after so many years. He had always been good with languages. Maybe body language was one of his talents as well.

  Keltor finally removed the cloth from her mouth and laid her head back on the bed. Once the prince turned away from her, the doctor stepped forward and began feeling and prodding parts of her body.

  She paid the doctor little attention. Her gaze lingered on Keltor’s back and broad shoulders. At least, until the doctor pressed against her lower abdomen and she winced at the stabbing pain. If she could talk, she probably would’ve screamed.

  The doctor ceased his movements. “Your womb is still tender and swollen. I must run some more tests. I’m afraid your visit must conclude here, your highness.”

  Keeping his back to her and the doctor, Keltor replied, “I will return soon.”

  As he walked toward the exit, Azalyn whispered, “Keltor.”

  His gait paused a split second before he opened the door and left Azalyn alone with the doctor.

  Keltor’s exit shouldn’t bother her. She was nothing to him, and he should be nothing to her.

  But even if she’d admit it to no one else, she’d reveled in his gentle touch and protectiveness. Not to mention that at least some of their familiarity from their former years seemed to linger.

  She wanted to frown. No. She wouldn’t wish for anything more than a formal relationship with the prince. She’d been a fool once, and she wanted nothing to do with males. Well, beyond helping her own son.

  Azalyn most definitely wouldn’t fall for the charms of a prince again. Given how close Keldera sat to a civil war between the pro- and antimonarchy factions, Keltor must find a bride with desirable political connections. Maybe even a female with a wealthy family willing to help fund military campaigns would be acceptable, especially if matters devolved into war.

  In other words, not her.

  As the doctor called in a few nurses, Azalyn listened to everything they said. For the present, her health was all that mattered. She would heed any and all of their advice. Only then could she see her son and discover a new path for her life. Because as long as Kelzal remained on Keldera, so would she. Her dream of starting over on a new colony was no longer an option.

  Chapter Three

  Keltor half-listened to one of his councilors as the male recited the daily briefing. While he never enjoyed the dry reports about taxes collected, new diplomatic treaties signed, or the state of agriculture on the planet, Keltor’s mind hadn’t wandered during a session since his mid-twenties, when his father had asked for him to take over the meetings and pass on only what was relevant to the king.

  And yet, all he could think about was the feel of Azalyn’s soft hair under his fingertips and her green eyes as he’d placed the wet cloth to her mouth. The pain and exhaustion he’d seen in her gaze had flared something inside him. All he’d wanted to do was hand off all his duties and take care of the brave female who’d endured the Tallarians beating her in order to protect her son’s life.

  Or, rather, their son’s life.

  To think his father had dismissed Azalyn as an unworthy commoner when Keltor had recently confronted him about sending her away decades ago. But she was braver than most of the people inside his father’s inner circle, he was certain.

  Even if only for a short while, he longed to see Azalyn awake and out to challenge any who’d face her.

  One of the senior councilors, Hinvel Mayta, cleared his throat. “Your highness?”

  Keltor met his former tutor’s face. Thirty years ago, Hinvel would’ve scolded Keltor for his behavior.

  Instead, Hinvel danced around him carefully, as did all the councilors. They never truly spoke their minds unless Keltor specifically requested it. They saw it as a sign of respect. Keltor saw it as one of the many layers of isolation in his life.

  He never understood why people dreamed of becoming a prince or even a king. Royal life was secluded, full of duty, and usually devoid of laughter. His mother had been an exception to the final point, but she’d died younger than she should have.

  Only Azalyn had brought it back for a short while.

  Not wanting to think about the happy times of his childhood and adolescence, Keltor noted the time and said, “Send me the reports and I’ll reach out if I have any questions. Unless anything requires my immediate attention?”

  “No, your highness,” Hinvel murmured.

  “Good. Then you must excuse me, Councilors. I just remembered there is a matter I must attend to straight away.”

  The instant he stood, everyone in the room bowed their heads. Not one of them voiced a complaint.

  Keltor never thought he’d ever miss his sister Kalahn’s outspoken and reckless nature. But with both his siblings currently living as part of the new colony on Jasvar, Keltor had only his father to call family inside the palace. And since his father was gravely ill, not to mention he and Keltor had never been close, there was only one person on Keldera he could seek out and talk with freely.

  And Keltor needed to talk about Azalyn so that he could move on. Only then would he regain his wits and be able to focus on his upcoming coronation. Or, rather, he needed Azalyn out of his thoughts so that he could focus on finding a suitable bride. Because if he didn’t, his father would never sign the abdication papers and make him king.

  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Keltor had never wanted to be king, but now he was doing everything he could to ensure it happened.

  He moved to the door. Upon exiting the advisory room, Keltor’s guards took their usual positions in front and behind him. Keltor stated, “East Garden,” signaling they were to depart.

  While the East Garden would always be special to Keltor since it had been his mother’s favorite place, it served another purpose. The isolated area allowed him to meet with the only male he called a friend—Veljan Ranna.

  And Veljan always tended to the East Garden at this time of day.

  After five minutes of going down one corridor and then another, Keltor finally stepped into the bright, open space of the East Garden. Thanks to the clear, glass-like ceiling overhead that allowed the Kelderan sunshine to stream through, the space was warm and inviting.

  Keltor stopped. He motioned toward a side door as he ordered, “Wait for me in there.”

  Since the material overhead was nearly indestructible and the entire garden was well-defended and reinforced, the guards left via the only other exit to the space. They would continue to monitor the area, but wouldn’t listen in to whatever conversation Keltor had with his friend.

  Walking around the perimeter, he admired the flowers in bloom as well as the bushes trimmed into the shapes of animals. As a boy, he’d spent many hours with his mother in the garden. She’d taught him as much as a mother could teach a little boy about horticulture.

  Then she’d died during the Brevkan wars, and it’d taken Keltor many years to set foot inside the East Garden again. Azalyn had been the one to convince him to visit the garden once more, to honor his mother’s memory.

  He’d been back at least once a week ever since.

&n
bsp; The main door opened, signaling that his friend Veljan was as punctual as always.

  Turning around, Keltor walked up to the lavender-skinned male about his own age with magenta eyes and silver hair. “Are any apprentice gardeners with you today?”

  Veljan shook his head. “No. They’re either spending the day training in a classroom or assisting one of their mentors.”

  “Computer,” Keltor began, “engage level ten security lock on the East Garden.”

  The computer replied in a flat voice, “Prince Keltor’s voice pattern confirmed and protocols implemented. The East Garden is now secure.”

  Veljan raised an eyebrow. “It’s one of those days, then. What’s wrong now?”

  Most Kelderans would gasp at Veljan’s casual nature, but he and Keltor had first met as boys over thirty years ago, when Veljan had merely been following his father, the royal head gardener, around on his duties. Over time, Veljan had not only replaced his father as royal head gardener but had also become Keltor’s only friend and confidant. While he would never be as open with anyone as he’d been with Azalyn two decades ago, Keltor was closer to Veljan than to his own brother, Kason. “Don’t act ignorant. You know what’s going on.”

  Veljan motioned toward the center of the garden, where there was a complex maze constructed of hedges. “Given how long it took you to get over Azalyn the first time, I wasn’t sure if bringing her up would be a good idea.”

  The pair of them walked toward the maze. “I have every advisor and staff member tiptoeing around Azalyn’s presence and all but pretending she doesn’t exist. Don’t do the same, Veljan.”

  “Is that an order or a request?” Keltor glared and Veljan chuckled. “I couldn’t resist. Maybe one day I’ll tire of teasing your princely self, but today is not that day.”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Keltor asked, “What the hell am I supposed to do, Veljan? She’s lying in a hospital bed because of me. And now her dream of living on Jasvar won’t ever happen, either. She will forever be a target. I trust my brother to watch over her on Jasvar, but the trip to the other planet would be too dangerous. She must remain on Keldera. Inside the palace grounds is the safest place for her.”