Mark of the Banished

by Salandra Wolfe

  “But the prince has started to rule on his own. He can take on the throne,” Ryland objected.

  “You don’t know that. Right now, things are easy. There are no huge problems for the prince to deal with. But with time, problems will arise. Perhaps the harvest will fail, and people will starve, perhaps there will be a fight between the lords, or perhaps another kingdom will show up and try to invade. When that happens, is the prince ready to deal with it?” Devin raised an eyebrow.

  “I—” Ryland gulped. “I think so.”

  Devin shook his head. “No. He is not. He could not handle the death of the king, and he will not be able to handle any other complications. If you give up now, you will never be able to take the throne. The people will not support you because they will believe the same delusions you are now trying to use as an excuse. Right now is your only chance to make sure the kingdom remains in good hands. Safe.”

  Devin took a step forward, and Ryland backed up again, stumbling over the uneven ground. His cousin leaned forward, and his brown eyes seemed to glow as they met Ryland’s. “It is your duty to take the throne. Your honor and the life of your people are in your hands. You must not fail.”

  Devin’s words struck Ryland in the chest with the force of a charging horse, and his eyes widened, his breath coming quicker. Devin didn’t move away, and Ryland was caught in his cousin’s gaze, his eyes seeming to swirl with life.

  Magic, Ryland thought dimly. I’m seeing his magic. His heart rate increased, and he heard blood rushing to his ears. A heady feeling came over him, and he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. His entire body shaking, Ryland finally managed to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry, but—I think you’re wrong.”

  Devin’s eyes narrowed, and anger overcame his face. He opened his mouth, but Ryland raised a hand to stop any words.

  “I need to go,” he said abruptly. Turning so fast he almost fell over, Ryland practically ran to the house. The moment he broke eye contact with Devin, his breathing came easier, and his heart began to beat normally again.

  Ryland stopped on the porch to catch his breath and looked out to the field for Devin, but his cousin had disappeared, leaving only the memory of his words on Ryland’s conscience. Ryland bent over and put his hands on his knees, the shaking slowly coming to a stop. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, focusing on the drumming of his heartbeat.

  What if he’s right? a voice in his head asked somewhat mockingly.

  Ryland growled and shook his head. “He’s not,” he said aloud. But deep down inside, he didn’t believe it. Devin was right, and the prince was a danger to Algar.

  Ryland rested his hand on the doorknob, hesitating outside his rooms at the palace. Devin had left for home before breakfast was finished, but Ryland hadn’t been able to banish his cousin’s words from his mind. Finally, after a strained meal together and a lot of awkward silence, Ryland had decided to leave his family and return to the palace. He needed some time alone to figure out his thoughts. He knew they meant well, but all of their advice was starting to wear on his nerves. It bothered him only a little that he hadn’t told his father directly, rather leaving a letter with his valet and another for Fayre.

  He didn’t know what to do or whose advice to follow. Perhaps some time meditating in his rooms would allow him to process things in a way his two-hour ride from the country or his two-hour walk through the palace gardens hadn’t been able to. Growling with frustration, he ran a hand through his hair, still not wanting to go inside the room where he knew his notes for the investigation were sitting on the table, begging him to peruse them once again. But he couldn’t. He had promised Fayre that he would let it go, and he didn’t break promises. He would have to inform the prince of his decision as soon as possible. In fact, he could do it right now.

  Ryland turned away from the door, relieved. He hadn’t realized it before, but he knew now he had been avoiding his rooms in the two hours he’d been at the palace because he didn’t want to have to think over his decision again, the same way he was thinking about the kingship. If he told the prince now, it would be done and over with, final, and he wouldn’t need to think about it any longer.

  Ryland looked up when he heard footsteps approaching. He smiled distractedly at the page walking toward him, but the smile slowly faded when he saw the dire expression on his face.

  “What is it?” Ryland asked. The sinking feeling in his stomach intensified when the page hesitated in giving his response.

  “It’s your parents. There was an accident, a carriage accident on their way back from the country. They—they—” The page stopped.

  Ryland’s uncomfortable feeling rose to panic. He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself so he could speak. “Are they okay?” He had just seen them this morning at breakfast. They had been fine then. What if—No, he cut himself off. I’m sure they’re fine. They have to be fine!

  The page shook his head. “I’m sorry, Your Lordship. They didn’t make it. They’re dead.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ryland wasn’t really sure what happened next. After the page announced his parents’ deaths, everything went fuzzy. He vaguely remembered crumpling to the ground and the page rushing to his side. He felt someone lift him up and move him, but he couldn’t tell where he was. All he could feel was the cold emptiness inside his heart.

  When he finally came back to awareness, he was lying in a bed, and his stomach was grumbling. He propped himself up on his elbows, recognizing the interior of his room back home. He glanced out the window and noticed the sun barely hovering above the hills, about to make its disappearance from the world. He had been asleep for at least the rest of the day.

  Ryland paused, trying to decipher why he was here. He remembered the long horse ride from the country house after breakfast, his walk in the gardens, and—Oh no. He sank back onto the pillow, tears filling his eyes. He didn’t try to stop them from sliding down his cheeks. How can they be dead? How could they leave me like this?

  “Ryland? You’re awake?” a soft voice called out. He turned his head slightly and saw Fayre standing in the door frame of his room, light from the setting sun illuminating her drawn face.

  He quickly stood and held out his arms. She came into them, sobbing. He held her for a moment, burying his face into her hair. She had loved them too, he knew.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t there when it happened—I wanted to stay a bit longer at the manor house.”

  “At least you haven’t left me,” he murmured. He didn’t mean for her to hear, but she shook her head and looked up at him through tear-filled eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

  He sobbed quietly and pulled her close to him again. “I love you so much,” he told her.

  “I know, and I love you too. I want you to know I’m here for you. I understand what it’s like to lose parents.” She winced, probably thinking about the pain she had already experienced.

  Ryland nodded, her very presence soothing the agony inside him. His mind went over all the times he had spent with his parents, playing with them as a child, them saying goodbye to him when he left for school, their shouts of joy when he finally came home, their encouraging smiles when he told them he was going to propose to Fayre, and everything else. His mind finally rested on the past month or so. He had been so busy that he had hardly seen either of them, or Fayre. He had lost precious time with them—a lot of time.

  Why didn’t I make more of an effort? Why did I put work before my family? Maybe if I hadn’t left this morning, they would still be alive. Maybe . . .

  Ryland drew in a deep breath, trying to stop his tears. His parents were gone. Never again would he see his mother’s wide smile, hear his father’s deep voice giving advice or news from the town, or taste his mother’s cooking. They had left him forever. He tried to tell himself that at least he had been able to spend a full day with them before their deaths, but it was little comfort, e
specially since he had not said goodbye in person before leaving.

  A knock sounded on the front door of the house, and Ryland glanced toward the noise. Fayre gazed up at him, and he nodded slowly. He took her hand and made his way to the door. When he got there, he opened it immediately, uncaring of the tear tracks on his cheeks or the fact that his hair was uncombed and his clothes rumpled. He just wanted whoever it was to go away.

  “Ryland Lyke?” The man on the other side of the door looked a bit frightened and confused by the sight that met his eyes, and it was almost enough to make Ryland smile. Almost.

  “I am he,” Ryland replied shortly.

  “His Majesty sends his condolences.” The man, probably a messenger, bowed and held out a note.

  Ryland took it. “Thank you.” The messenger nodded and left quickly, and Ryland shut the door behind him.

  He glanced at Fayre, who smiled encouragingly at him. He turned his attention back to the note and opened it. It read:

  My friend, Lord Ryland,

  I heard what happened to your parents, and I am terribly sorry. I’m not sure of the details of the event, but I know you must be hurting very deeply right now. I, too, have lost both of my parents, so I hope you know I am willing to assist you in any way I can.

  Since you are my friend, a very good man, and a valiant protector and servant to the throne, I give you my personal permission to go on leave for as long as you want. My one condition is that you come back only when you are ready. The case can wait.

  Your friend,

  Prince Caspian

  Ryland stared at the note for a long moment, not really seeing it. Fayre took it from his hand, and when she was done reading it, she spoke gently, “That was nice of him.”

  Ryland nodded absently. “The more time that goes by, the less certain I am that I was right to try to take the throne from him. In the beginning, I was positive I was right. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  Fayre nodded silently, waiting for him to continue. They had already talked about this, but she seemed to understand that he needed to say it once more.

  Ryland looked at her, his eyes pleading with her for advice. She remained silent, and he sighed. “I don’t think I will continue this suit. He seems to be capable, which means he should sit on his father’s throne.”

  Smiling, Fayre ducked her head swiftly. “The more I have had the opportunity to observe him, the more I believe his temporary madness was a reaction to the loss of his father. He will be a great king,” she admitted, finally giving her opinion on the matter.

  Ryland smiled slightly at her approval, not realizing how much he had wanted to please her until this moment.

  “Would you like to stay here or go back to the castle?” she inquired, peering into his eyes.

  He shook his head. “I would like to stay here.” In a daze, Ryland realized the house belonged to him now that his parents were gone. “But without . . . without any proper chaperones, you would have to go back to the castle. Do you mind?”

  She smiled, and her whole face seemed to light up. It wasn’t anywhere near her normal level of energy, but it felt nice to get a glimpse of it. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ve been wanting to spend more time at the castle to visit my old friends anyway. Just promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

  He kissed her hand. “As you wish.”

  She disappeared into the house, and Ryland sank onto the couch, waiting for her, barely keeping himself together. Finally, she reappeared with a bag full of her things.

  He stood swiftly to greet her. “Do you want any help?” he offered, eyeing the heavy bag.

  She laughed softly. “I can take care of myself. Besides, the servants can help me. You need to rest.” She looked at him sternly for a moment.

  He chuckled slightly and walked to her, leaning over to plant a kiss on her lips. “I already told you I will. Give me a few days, and I’ll come to see you. We can talk then.”

  When she was gone, Ryland sank back onto the couch. He leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees and his hands on the side of his head. He stared at the floor, wrestling with himself, barely recognizing the passage of time.

  He stayed there the entire night, thinking and debating and crying, never moving from his place. When the morning’s rays came to light the world in front of him, he blinked and straightened. He stood up, his jaw set. He had made his decision. His weary eyes protested when the rising sun met his eyes, and he blinked rapidly.

  “Devin, I need you,” he spoke out loud in a steady voice.

  The next second, the wizard appeared in front of him, frowning. “What do you need at such an hour, Ryland?”

  Ryland clenched his jaw. “Have you not heard?”

  Devin’s frown faded and was replaced by an expression of confusion. “Word doesn’t travel fast to my house.” A look of alarm and concern took over his face as his eyes traveled down the disheveled appearance of his cousin. “What happened?”

  “My parents are dead,” Ryland said shortly. He didn’t want to explain further. In truth, he didn’t know much about the incident. But if he even tried to tell Devin they were killed in a carriage accident, he would break down again, and he didn’t want that. Not now.

  Devin’s eyes widened and his face fell. “Oh no . . . I’m so sorry.” He put a hand over his mouth and walked to a nearby window, facing away from Ryland.

  Ryland took a deep breath and pressed forward, “I didn’t want you to come so I could tell you about their deaths. I want to tell you that I’m resigning from the campaign for the throne. I can’t do it without them.” On this last part his voice broke, and he stared at the ground, fighting his emotions. “Fayre agrees with me,” he added, feeling the need to defend himself.

  There was a moment of silence, and Ryland couldn’t see his cousin’s face. What would it reveal? But he couldn’t muster the strength to move toward the other man, not after showing his weakness like that. Stupid pride, he thought to himself.

  “Okay,” Devin said finally. “I understand.”

  Ryland paused for a moment, then looked up. Devin was gone.

  Devin paced around his dark house, mentally slapping himself.

  I went too far. I didn’t realize killing the stupid boy’s parents would cause him to lose interest in the throne. My plan is ruined! He swept his hands across his desk, and everything on it crashed to the floor. He had been reckless in making the decision to kill Ryland’s parents. Obviously, it hadn’t been the right thing to do, but he couldn’t very well have left them alive, not after the conversation Devin had heard between Maddox and Ryland. And that girl, Fayre! She agreed Ryland should give up the throne. My throne!

  Devin paused and took a deep breath. Every problem can be solved if you think about it, he reminded himself. He had been working on this plan for too long to fail now.

  He stood there and schemed, a hand on his chin, ignoring his body’s requests for sustenance. After several hours had passed, he blinked and turned around, a huge grin on his face.

  “I’ve got it!” He ran down the stairs and rifled through the cupboards to find what he was looking for. Finally, he held up a crystal vial with a brown liquid in it. He shook it slightly, and the bottle caught the light, reflecting it.

  This is exactly what I need. He stood up and quickly strode through the door, casting an invisibility spell.

  His plan had been temporarily derailed, but he knew how to get it back on track. He fought off an evil laugh. Now an unplanned phase four commences.

  Fayre laughed, glancing over at the two maids who had joined her in her walk. One was diminutive with short blond hair and blue eyes, and the other was a foot taller than Fayre, her skin a shade darker than most Algarians. She had black hair and almond-shaped eyes that contrasted startlingly with Fayre’s red hair and wide eyes. Fayre smiled and shook her head, looking around the gardens. No one else was nearby, but if they were, she knew they might stop and stare at the strange sight of all three of the girls together. The th
ought made her giggle. It felt good to be back at the palace. She had lived there most of her life, and it felt like home to her.

  However, her joy was tempered by the thought of losing Maddox and Lily. In the back of her mind, she kept going over the events leading up to the accident. After discovering the note Ryland had left for his father, Maddox and Lily had left the manor house to talk some sense into Ryland. Fayre had agreed to meet them later in the day or even the next day, wanting to spend a few more hours in the countryside. Her own note from Ryland had been apologetic, but he’d promised her he would drop the investigation sooner rather than later, so she hadn’t been concerned.

  Fayre had been packing her things to leave when a servant had rushed into the room, giving Fayre the bad news. She had crumpled to the bed, unable to stop the gut-wrenching sobs that overcame her entire body. Maddox and Lily weren’t her parents, but they acted like they were, and with her engagement to their son, they almost had been. Losing them was like losing her own parents all over again.

  Now, she hadn’t even been back at the castle for a full day, but she already missed Ryland desperately. She hoped he was okay, all alone. He hadn’t come to see her yet, and even though she had urged him to rest, she had to fight the desire to jump on a horse and go to him, which she knew would only make things worse. He needed his space to mourn, as she had with her parents, and she respected that. However, she could hardly do much of anything with him and his parents on her mind. Sleep had been long in coming the previous night, and the tea and cookies Mindy, the blond maid, had given her only a half an hour earlier had tasted like ash.

  Mindy stopped to pick a flower, tucking it behind Fayre’s ear with a small smile. “Look at you. Just like a princess.”

  Fayre curtsied playfully, a large smile lighting up her face. Mindy had been her best friend since she first moved into the castle. She had always been there whenever Fayre needed her. The small girl had been overjoyed that Fayre had returned, though there was a certain tension between them. Fayre couldn’t figure out if it was because of her pending status as high nobility or because of the death of her future in-laws.