by Neha Yazmin
“My sword, Princess,” Micah said impatiently, holding up his free hand.
Princess. News of the true identity of the Palace’s newest guard had travelled to the rebels, it seemed. And their leader was afraid of her.
Aaryana arced an eyebrow and smirked. “Not yet. Let’s have a little chat first.”
Aaryana sat in the rebel leader’s chair, her right ankle resting on her left knee. Micah’s sword was in her right hand, the tip of its blade piercing the oak floorboards. Anyone would think she was the rebel leader. That’s not how a lady should sit, Myraa would have said if she could see her now. If Myraa could see me now...
Aaryana dislodged the thought and jerked her chin at the King’s nephew, the young man standing uncomfortably in the spot where Wyett had stood just a few minute ago. His lackeys had been sent out of the room, out of earshot.
“You’re the second brother’s son,” she said, detaching herself from the story that Jeena had told her about King Keyan’s siblings. “I’m guessing you’re bastard-born, and so you were denied a claim to the Throne. Am I right?”
Micah scratched his chin with a finger—even his hands were like Seth’s. “What makes you think I’m not an illegitimate child of the first brother?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow of his own. She was glad that he was using her language—the first brother, second brother, third. “Or Wyett’s illegitimate half-brother?”
Micah was slowly gaining confidence, easing back into the persona he’d shown earlier. He had figured out that she really just wanted to talk.
Aaryana shook her head. “His Majesty calls you his nephew.”
“Ah.”
“Your father had the same illness that Seth has,” she said, voice dropping unintentionally. It was difficult to detach herself from Seth’s story. “He died from it, and so will Seth.” Aaryana swallowed at the thought, Micah, too. “But you didn’t inherit the sickness.”
Micah was as healthy as Wyett.
“No, the curse only affects the second Fresdan child—”
Her eyes narrowed, not just at the word ‘curse’ but also because Micah had cut off abruptly. He wasn’t supposed to talk about it? Or he didn’t want her to know.
“The curse?” she asked, planting her right foot on the floor and leaning forward.
“The whole Fresdan line is cursed,” he said with a shake of his head, a sneer on his face. “The second child in each family is born ill and weak. There are only sons, no Princesses—”
“Quin is the first Fresdan Princess ever,” she recalled with a gasp.
“And Seth is the healthiest of the second Princes. Some say that’s a sign that the curse is lifting, but no one knows why or how.” He shook his head, bewildered. “Seth is still sick, he’s just stronger than the previous second brothers have been. And there’s still no cure for him, hardly anything that helps with his symptoms…” Micah sighed heavily.
“Who cursed them?”
“Everyone thinks it was the Nidiyans, but then, the Nidiyans get blamed for everything.” He rolled his eyes.
Micah pulled up a chair that had been pushed against the wall and slumped into it. She couldn’t believe he was telling her so much. Maybe he needed to get it off his chest? Maybe he thought it was best to offer her the information before she threatened him for it? He didn’t want to lose the respect of his followers because of her for a second time.
“My eldest uncle,” he went on, “he thought he could outsmart the curse. He decided to have just the one child. One son. So, there would be no sick second Prince. But his first child died, so he had to conceive another. And when that child died, he had another. Each time he decided against having a second child, his living child died.”
“That,” Aaryana breathed, “is a powerful curse.” And heartbreaking.
Micah rubbed his face. “When he died, he didn’t have a living Heir.”
“And because your father was deemed too ill to become King, the third brother, King Keyan, took the Crown.” Aaryana stood up and started pacing. “So, how is it that you survived the curse? How was it that you didn’t die when your father didn’t have a second child?”
“My father did have a second son.”
She froze mid-stride. “What?”
“Very few people knew about him,” Micah explained. “He died when he was an infant. If Seth is the healthiest of the second brothers, my brother was the sickest. He died younger than all the others.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My father didn’t have a third child; he’d become too ill by then.”
“So, the third child is… optional?” Aaryana wasn’t sure if that was the right word. “It’s not imperative for the curse that the Kings conceive a third child, I mean. But two is compulsory.”
Micah shrugged. He had no idea.
“And no one knows for sure who cursed the Fresdans?”
Again, Micah shrugged. Perhaps the King knew? Would he tell her? He might, but he’d definitely tell Wyett that she was asking about Seth and the curse, which was something she needed to avoid.
“How much did you know about your father’s illness?” she asked Micah.
“Why?”
“Seth has the same condition as him,” she replied and started pacing again. “He is stronger than your father was, so maybe he will be easier to cure—”
“Seth!” He jumped to his feet.
Aaryana halted and looked around the room, wondering if Seth had miraculously appeared inside the cottage. He hadn’t. She turned to Micah and saw that he was smiling at her. The cunning, calculating smile of a rebel leader.
“Seth is the reason you stayed behind,” he said, nodding to himself. The look in his eyes said, So, Seth is your weakness.
“Indeed,” she said and returned to the chair.
She sat down and crossed one leg over the other—That’s how a lady should sit! Myraa would have said approvingly—and leaned her arms on the armrests.
“Curing Seth is the only thing that will make the Crown Prince trust me,” she said with a shrug, drumming the wood of the armrests with her fingers. “The King approves of me wholeheartedly. He would make me his daughter-in-law in a heartbeat. But Wyett has been… difficult.”
This information wouldn’t be new to Wyett if Micah told him; the Crown Prince already knew she wanted to marry him.
“If I cured Seth,” she went on, “Wyett would not only trust me, but I daresay he might fall in love with me.”
“Wyett’s already in love,” Micah told her.
“With who?” Aaryana asked immediately.
“Doesn’t matter; he won’t marry her.”
Erisa. The girl said she didn’t see Wyett or Seth as men, but rather little boys, probably to throw Aaryana off her trail. No. Erisa didn’t love Wyett, but maybe he loved her? Perhaps Erisa had rejected him over and over? Was that why Wyett was so… not nice?
“Still, he has to marry someone. He’s the Crown Prince.” She shrugged. “And who better than the woman that cured his brother’s illness?” She smiled triumphantly.
Micah laughed. “If you cure Seth, you will be rewarded handsomely. But Wyett won’t marry you.”
Aaryana shrugged. “Then, I won’t cure Seth until he does.”
“Blackmailing him won’t do you any favours, Princess. And if he does give in, he will cut ties with you as soon as Seth is cured. If you force him to marry you, he won’t stay married to you by choice.”
“I’ll take that risk. I was born to be Queen. If I can’t rule over Adgar, I sure as hell will do everything I can to sit on the Throne of Roshdan.”
“Your reign will be short,” Micah assured her, a little too confidently. “Wyett will make sure of that. I’m his best friend; I can tell these things.”
“About that,” she mused, leaning forward in her seat. “Your friendship with him is the reason you didn’t try to capture or kill him tonight.”
The rebels could have held Wyett for ransom and demanded the King’s presence here. Or for h
im to abdicate the Throne to save his firstborn’s life. But Micah didn’t want to hurt his friend, use him like that.
Micah nodded. “And he’s also loved and respected by the people. They will never forgive me for causing him any grief when I become King.”
“But they’ll forgive you for killing their King?”
“That’s how you become King, if you’re not in the line of succession,” he told her. “I didn’t make those rules. And the people, they are sympathetic to my cause. That’s why, no matter how many of my friends the King kills, there are others ready to join me.”
Aaryana cocked her head at that. The entire Island was on Micah’s side? “When I first arrived in Roshdan, the people seemed very backwards,” she murmured, “especially in terms of how they perceived women.”
Micah’s eyebrows bunched together, confused as to why she’d suddenly veered off topic. But she hadn’t changed the subject.
“Yet, this seems to be a very progressive society, if the people want a bastard-born on the Throne.”
He chuckled without humour. “I wouldn’t say they want me on the Throne. Not like they want Wyett on it. But they wouldn’t disapprove of me taking the Crown. And my uncle has left me no choice but to kill him for it. The people won’t begrudge me that.”
“They—the people don’t like King Keyan?” That’s what he seemed to be saying.
She remembered her first day on this Island, and how she’d wondered why the Chief Riding Officer didn’t speak of King Keyan with the same respect and admiration that the Adgaris did when they spoke of her father.
“They think him a good, kind King.” Micah rolled his eyes. “But he displeased many with the way he treated my mother.”
“What did he do to her?” Aaryana asked, coating her voice with disapproval.
“It’s what they all did,” Micah spat. “She’d given her whole life to caring for my father, but they wouldn’t let her marry into the Royal Family.”
“He knew—they all knew about your mother?”
“No, they didn’t know about me.”
Aaryana turned to the sound of the female voice. A woman, a little older than Rozlene, was standing in the doorway of the room next to the one that Erisa’s mother had been held hostage. She was slim and tall, her hair gold and her eyes a bright blue. She looked nothing like Micah but was clearly his mother. Aaryana rose to her feet and inclined her head in greeting.
Micah marched over to his mother and hissed, “Mother, I told you to stay in your room.”
She touched his face with her palm before walking around him and sitting on the chair he’d vacated. To Aaryana, she said, “The Royal Family knew me. As his nurse. My name is Laurenie, Princess. I was responsible for caring for Micah’s father, and it was an honour to serve him.”
Aaryana sat back down. “The two of you fell in love.”
A nod. “We wanted to get married, but the King then—the first brother, as you’ve been calling him—didn’t allow it. The sick Prince was prohibited from marrying.” She sighed.
“I was told it was because—”
“Yes,” Laurenie said, cutting Aaryana off. “It would be unfair to the woman marrying him, a waste of her youth, her life. He could never be a proper husband. And that’s true. It’s just that I’d already dedicated my life to him. I wanted to be with him, take care of him as I always had. To be his wife and nurse. I knew what to expect and I accepted it. Wanted it. But rules were rules.”
“You said they didn’t know about you,” Aaryana murmured.
Laurenie nodded. “Micah’s father only revealed that he loved someone and wanted to marry her. He was forbidden from doing so.”
Baffled, Aaryana asked, “Why didn’t he tell them it was you? The nurse that was already caring for him? That could have swayed things in your favour.”
The woman sighed deeply. “Yes, but we knew there was still a chance that the King would prohibit it, separate us. I’m not of noble birth, you see. So, we decided not to reveal my identity unless the King granted us permission to marry.”
“And Wyett’s father sided with his eldest brother on this,” Micah growled, his hands in fists.
“You can’t blame him for that,” his mother said soothingly; Aaryana nodded in agreement. “He didn’t know that his favourite brother wanted to marry his nurse.”
“He should have been on Father’s side,” snapped Micah. “If Father really was his favourite brother.”
“He was thinking of the poor woman whose life would be ruined,” his mother reminded him, “who would become a young widow. You know, Micah, that King Keyan talked to Seth about how he might not be able to marry. He told his own son that he might never get married.”
“That was before everyone found out who I was. I’m sure dear uncle has reconsidered his stance on that now.”
“Perhaps,” Laurenie said. “But the truth remains: You can’t blame Wyett’s father for any of this.”
“But I can blame him for not abdicating the Throne! For not putting me in the line of succession.”
“You were bastard-born,” his mother said quietly, her eyes on her lap.
“I wouldn’t be if they let my father marry you!”
“But they didn’t let us. You were born out of wedlock. And you may have convinced a lot of people at your father’s funeral that King Keyan was conspiring against his brother by not helping him get married, but I don’t think he was thinking like that.”
“Of course, he was!” Micah snapped, his hands curved into claws. “The King’s children weren’t surviving beyond infancy. Keyan knew he was next in line to the Throne, since Father wasn’t in the line of succession at all. But if Father had married and had children… Keyan knew that if his so-called favourite brother had at least one healthy child—the firstborn is always the strongest child—the Throne wouldn’t pass down to him or his children. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
His mother shook her head. “Don’t make me wish that I’d never told you the truth.”
“How long did you keep it a secret?” Aaryana dared ask.
“I told Micah three years ago, on the day of his father’s funeral,” she replied, her voice sad. Aaryana couldn’t believe it. Noticing her shock, Laurenie assured her, “Micah lived in the Palace with me. He grew up around his father, without knowing who he was. His father knew. He loved him very much.
“I hid the truth so that they wouldn’t separate the three of us.” She turned to her son and added, “When he died, I thought you ought to know that the Prince you so admired, your favourite person in the castle after Wyett, was in fact your father. I had no idea that you’d reveal it to everyone at the funeral, take his sword from his tomb, and demand the Throne!”
“I did what I had to,” Micah said, with much less anger and hostility. The memory of his father’s funeral had probably dulled the rage. “I saw what you didn’t, Mother—the conspiracy to keep Father’s descendants out of the line of succession. Keyan’s conspiracy. A lot of people believed it, too. Why would they believe it if they didn’t think Keyan was capable of such treachery?”
“I don’t think they believe King Keyan betrayed his brother or wronged you,” his mother said thoughtfully. “I think they just agree that, had you been born to married parents, you’d have become King when your eldest uncle died.”
“I think that’s the same thing,” Micah muttered.
The former nurse rolled her blue eyes. “And I think it’s about time you brought our guest some tea and refreshments.” Laurenie sat up straight and gave her son a strict look. “Now, please, Micah. The Princess must be thirsty.”
Aaryana would have declined the offer if she didn’t have a sneaky suspicion that the woman wanted to talk to her in private.
Sure enough, as soon as Micah stalked out of the room, she turned to Aaryana and said, “I know you care for Seth.”
“I’m sorry?” Aaryana frowned.
“Far more than you care for Wyett,” the woman continu
ed as though Aaryana hadn’t spoken. “Micah’s father and Seth—in fact, all the second brothers, I believe—had a way of making people care deeply for them and gained their loyalty quickly. None of it is borne out of pity.” She laughed quietly as she added, “Well, I don’t think it’s something they did. It was just part of their magic. Or part of the curse: The death of the second brother leaves so many broken hearts.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment.
“So, I know you’re asking about Seth’s illness to help him, save him. Not because you want to use it as a means to marry the Crown Prince.” Before Aaryana could argue, the nurse assured her, “I’ll keep your secret from Micah, Princess, do not fear. And I think you should use the cure to get Wyett to marry you, too. You’ll be good for him.”
“Micah says Wyett loves someone already…” Aaryana didn’t know how she’d combat this. Especially if he loved Erisa.
“Micah said so?” The woman pushed her eyebrows together, thinking. “Hmm, well, that’s news to me,” she eventually said with a shake of her head. “But Micah does know Wyett very well. They grew up together. They were best friends, the three of them—”
“So, take it from me, Princess,” Micah said as he returned with a tray of tea and cake, “blackmailing Wyett won’t get you far.”
“But you should try to find a cure for Seth,” his mother insisted. “And I will tell you everything I know about the ailment.”
“For a price,” Micah added before Aaryana could thank the woman. He was holding the tray in front of her.
She took the cup of tea and sniffed it.
Micah laughed. “I won’t poison you, Princess. You’re more valuable to me alive than dead.”
“You’re safer with me dead than alive.”
Ignoring Aaryana’s curt remark, he went to stand beside his mother’s chair. “Mother will help you with the cure,” he said in a business-like voice. “And I won’t tell Wyett about your plan to blackmail him. In return, you will be my eyes and ears in the Palace. My spy. My… whatever I need you to be.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Until?”
“Until one of us is on the Throne, I suppose.” Micah placed the tray of cake on the small table in the corner of the room. “You won’t find a cure without our help, and I would very much like a spy in the castle. We will use each other until we no longer need to.”
