“I wanted to thank you.” She shifted, and Mary situated her pillows.
Isaac scoffed at her response. “Thank me? I’m the reason you are lying in this bed.” He gritted his teeth at the statement as disappointment and shame filled his heart. He dropped his chin to his chest to hide the emotions warring across his face. Elizabeth gently brushed the hair on his forehead aside as she tried to peer underneath it to see his eyes. “You are right.”
His head snapped up at her statement. “You are the reason I’m lying here alive.” She added to the end. “I would not be alive if it weren’t for you.”
Isaac shook his head and dropped her hand as he stood to pace. “No. Stop. Do you not remember what happened?!” He asked in frustration. “I stabbed Prince Eric. I thought he was dead. If I had double-checked… if I had made sure…” he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I should have made sure, then he would not have been able to attack you the way he did. Then maybe you’d—” He motioned to her leg. “Then maybe you would still have your leg.”
Elizabeth pushed herself up to a better sitting position and sighed as she ran a hand over her lap to smooth her blankets. “Yes, it is quite disappointing to lose part of my leg… but I suppose it pales in comparison to the loss of my life. Whatever you think you did or did not do, Prince Isaac, you might as well become comfortable with the praise I offer you. For I will not revoke it.” Isaac walked back over to her bedside and sat. She squeezed his hand. “You fought bravely.”
“And so did you. You were better than I thought you would be.”
She grinned proudly. “I would not have been if you had not been clever in disposing of my overskirts.”
They both chuckled softly as they replayed the day’s events in their minds. Isaac’s smile faded slowly, and he turned to face her. Her blue eyes studied him carefully. “Your prince is disappointed you fetched me over him.” He felt her fingers lightly tap the top of his hand as she avoided his gaze. He tilted her chin up with his finger and narrowed his gaze to try and read her thoughts. “You going to tell me your secrets, princess?”
She shook her head making him laugh. “What if I promise not to repeat them?”
She tilted her head and her gaze squinted in disbelief at his words making him laugh harder causing her lips to twitch into a smile. “Ah, there it is.” He lightly tapped a finger to the dimple in her left cheek.
“It will sound vain.” Elizabeth stated in disgust.
“Ah, now look who you are talking to, princess. You think I will have a problem with vanity?” Isaac asked in jest making Elizabeth roll her eyes. Smiling, Isaac leaned back against the bedpost; his legs strode out on top of her blankets facing her. They sat opposite one another for a moment in silence, an easy quiet passing between them.
“I still feel it.” She stated quietly. His brow rising in interest.
“My leg.” She clarified. “I still feel it. I swear I had an itch on my little toe earlier.” She grinned at the thought and he lightly tapped the toes of her remaining foot.
“I have heard that is quite common a feeling with people who lose a limb.” Isaac shared.
“Mary seems to think she can find me a crutch of some sort so that I may walk soon.”
“Ah, Mary…” Isaac smiled. “She spoils you.” He winked at Elizabeth and she nodded. “Yes, she does.”
Her smile slowly faded, and her vision began to blur as her mind wandered elsewhere. He watched as her chin quivered. “Do you think…” her voice trailed off as she tried to stifle back her tears. “Do you think Prince Clifton will find me…”
Isaac then realized Elizabeth’s fear. She feared Prince Clifton would not love her due to her, what she believed, new deformity.
“My princess,” Isaac’s eyes softened with sympathy as he swung his feet to the floor and moved closer to her and enveloped her in a hug. He felt the warm tears soak through his shirt as she sobbed. “Clifton loves you, Elizabeth. And he will love you still. You are the same person.”
She shook her head and pulled back to look up at him. “I am not the same. I feel so different. I wished to be beautiful on my wedding day, to wear a beautiful dress and walk— walk down to him. How can I walk to him, Isaac? How can I feel beautiful when my body is marred by such evil?”
Isaac brushed his thumbs over her cheeks and shook his head. “You put those thoughts out of your mind. You cannot think such things, Elizabeth. You are beautiful. You are strong. That is what Clifton sees. He does not see your injury any more than I do.”
She swiped a hand over her cheek to wipe away her tears. “Like I said, I know it is but vanity that makes me feel this way, which in turn makes me even more disgusted with myself, I’m afraid.” Elizabeth admitted truthfully.
Isaac chuckled. “You, afraid? Never.” He winked at her as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Nonetheless, your secret is safe with me, Elizabeth.”
“And yours with me.” She stated, clearing her throat of her tears.
“Mine? Pray, what secret do I have?” Isaac asked as he stood to exit.
“That you’re a good man.” Elizabeth replied. She watched as he took a deep breath, her words shaking him to his core. “But don’t worry, Prince Isaac. Your secret is safe with me.” She smiled at him as he nodded.
A small smirk tilted his lips. “Yes, well, we would hate to ruin my reputation.” He bowed and then quietly exited. Elizabeth smiled comfortably as she leaned back against her pillows and sighed. Yes, Prince Isaac was a good man, whether he chose to believe it or not. She then turned to Mary and nodded. “Send up whomever wishes to come see me.” Mary, smiling, excitedly exited the room.
∞
Edward felt the blood dripping from his hand as he stood in the darkness of Lancer’s reflection chamber. He sensed the man’s presence but heard nothing. He did not wish for the power to consume him, yet he wished to understand it. Then he felt it. The slight tug on his heart. The slight pull at his thoughts. Whispers of fog curled around his ankles. Black fog, he knew. The sconces on the wall lit and before him stood Lancer covered in the black smoke. His eyes, completely darkened, looked hollow and Edward took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
“You must embrace the power.” Lancer’s voice was low, abnormally low. Menacing. Threatening. He stood with arms outstretched as Edward’s mind rang with the pounding of his heart, tortuous screams, and anguished cries. He placed his palms on either side of his head and tried to focus on Lancer’s words, but he couldn’t. His chest felt tight and he wished he could free himself from the sudden confinement.
“The oath was sealed by my blood merging with the darkness.” Lancer explained. “It is my blood that holds the veil of the Land of Unfading Beauty. MY BLOOD that sustains this Land.” His voice bounced off of the walls and pierced Edward’s mind and echoed through him. He felt himself falling to his knees. “You must sacrifice of yourself, Edward.” Lancer explained calmly. “My blood is your blood.” He felt the sharp stab of the sword as it pierced through his chest and out his back. Gasping, he felt the tremors take over, the nerves in his body snapping and cratering. Lancer laughed as he withdrew the sword and dripped the blood from his own wounded hand into the open wound on Edward’s chest.
“Your blood and my blood, Edward.” Lancer repeated. “Do you feel it? Do you feel the power rushing through your veins, beating from your heart? Embrace it, Edward.” Lancer’s voice became distant as Edward struggled to maintain consciousness. Why was he not healing? He wondered. Why were his hands going numb? His feet? He felt his cheek land against the cold stone floor and his body began to shudder.
“The transformation is almost complete, Edward.” Lancer’s voice echoed off the walls and the lights enflamed and shot towards the ceiling. The blackness faded and all that remained was Edward’s blood oozing over the floor and Lancer kneeling beside him. Lancer placed a hand over the hole in Edward’s back and Edward’s body began to heal. Within minutes, the room was still, the firelights steady, and Ed
ward began to push himself off of the floor. Edward ran a hand over the front of his chest and felt no pain. Incredible, he thought.
He caught Lancer’s large smile and ran a hand through his hair as he struggled for words.
“How do you feel?” Lancer asked.
“Good.” Edward answered. “I-I must admit I was scared there for a second, my Lord. I thought I was to die.”
Laughing, Lancer slapped Edward on the back in his usual friendly pat. “No, Edward. I have plans for you. It would not do me much good to kill you then, would it?”
“Aye, I guess not. What plans do you have for me?”
“You wish to cross to the Southern Kingdom do you not?”
“Yes, to see what is left.” Edward replied.
“Then you will cross and do just that. There should be no problem now that my blood runs through your veins.”
That thought had Edward inwardly cringing. Was he forever poisoned now that Lancer had spilled his blood within him? He prayed not.
“Is it just your blood I need in order to cross?” Edward asked curiously, wondering how Prince Clifton would have obtained the ability if that were the reason.
“Yes.” Lancer answered. “The darkness you see in my chamber can only come from me. It was I who gave my blood and swore an oath of servitude to it. So naturally anyone who shares my blood shall have some of my abilities.”
“And how many others have you shared your blood with?” Edward looked at Lancer as they made their way out of the main entrance of the castle and over towards the stables.
“Why, none, of course.” Lancer replied truthfully. “It is not something I give freely, Edward. I was just told to give it to you, which is why you now have it.”
“Who told you to share your blood with me?” Edward asked.
Lancer looked at him with a narrowed gaze and studied him closely. “You still do not know?”
“I am just confused.” Clarified Edward.
“The darkness. The power. It speaks to me, to my soul.”
“Of course.” Edward stated. “I see. Well I count myself most fortunate for your favor, my Lord.”
Lancer smiled and closed his eyes allowing the sun to shine upon his face. He sighed as he breathed in his surroundings. “Why don’t you go make plans for your journey to the Southern Kingdom, Edward? You and I will meet again at dinner to discuss.”
Edward bowed as he walked away towards the stables. He needed to leave a letter for Prince Clifton at the line. There was much to tell.
CHAPTER 11
The door to Elizabeth’s chambers opened and several smiling faces entered. She spotted her father and welcomed him with a wide smile. He lightly kissed her hair as Alayna sat beside her and gently squeezed her hand. King Eamon appeared in the doorway and Elizabeth’s nerves began to work their way into her heart. He nodded with a pleased smile on his face and entered into the room. Behind him stood Clifton, with Ryle bringing up the rear. Clifton stared at her, their eyes meeting and holding. Elizabeth held her breath and nervously flashed a glance towards Prince Isaac as he stood by his father and sister. He nodded in encouragement as she turned back to Clifton. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “Here I am.” The slight movement sent the prince into a hurried pace to her bedside as he cupped her face in his hands and brought her into a fierce hug. He roamed his gaze over her face in relief, as if he did not believe what he saw. Elizabeth let out a nervous laugh, as her eyes grew glassy. She then spotted the red stain on the front of his tunic and placed her hand over it. Concern etched her face as Clifton broke into a smile. “There is much to tell you, princess.” He laid his hand on hers as she rested it on his heart. His thumb brushed her knuckles and Elizabeth relaxed into a smile.
“You look well, princess.” Prince Ryle complimented as he stepped into the room. “No worse for wear.” He winked at her as he leaned against her bedpost.
“She is perfect.” Clifton replied softly, soaking in the image of Elizabeth alive and well. His gaze shifted towards the slight curves of her legs beneath the bed covers. He noticed one of her legs was shorter than the other. He gently placed his hand on her foot and her eyes found his. He spotted her unshed tears as his gaze traveled to where her other foot should be and back to her face. His eyes were calm and kind. “You are well?” He asked, praying the amputation had not caused a fever or infection.
“Yes. Prince Isaac saw to me faithfully.” She added, praising the prince of the West with gratitude. Clifton smiled, and he laid his hand upon hers as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Tell me of the war. Is it over?” Elizabeth asked the room, her gaze traveling from one person to the next.
King Granton smiled. “I think we will let Prince Clifton fill you on the details.” Granton nodded at Clifton as the prince flashed an appreciative smile. King Granton began waving people out the door to give Elizabeth and Clifton time alone. When the door closed, Mary brought Elizabeth a sip of water before tending to chores around the room. Clifton lightly laid his hand on top of Elizabeth’s bandaged leg. “I am sorry this had to happen.” He stated softly, disappointment in his voice.
Elizabeth inhaled a deep breath as she braced herself for the rejection she knew would follow.
“If I had gotten to the boundary sooner, perhaps this could have been prevented.” Clifton continued.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. You were where you needed to be, protecting your kingdom.”
“I should have protected you.” Clifton countered.
“You did. You arrived at the perfect time. Prince Isaac and I were grateful for you and Ryle.” She squeezed his hand. “None of us could have seen this coming.” She waved at her leg.
He slid to his knees on the floor beside her bed and held her hand to his forehead and then kissed the back of her hand. “I am still sorry, Elizabeth.”
A faint smile tilted her lips. “You must not feel sorry for me, Prince Clifton. I will be fine. I am just grateful to be alive.”
“And I am thankful for that as well. I do not wish to lose you, princess.”
“Really?” Her eyes glossed over with tears of relief. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head as he looked at her. “Why, of course. You are to be my wife. I care for you.” His words trailed off as he glanced at the coverings over her legs and then back to her face. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
A wide smile spread over her face as a tear slipped out of her eye. She laughed nervously as she swiped her other hand over her cheek. “Even if I only have one leg?”
“Even more so now, I believe.” Clifton stated confidently. Elizabeth eyed him with doubt and he chuckled.
“You are a fighter, my love. A woman of strength. It is a great attribute and one I find quite appealing.” He leaned forward and kissed the back of her hand once more and released her fingers.
“You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you speak those words, Clifton. I feared… well, I feared you would find my injury… unflattering.”
Clifton shook his head. “You are an incredible woman, Elizabeth. It would take a lot more than a battle injury to keep me from marrying you.” He winked at her and smiled at the small blush that stained her cheeks. He caught sight of Mary smiling out of the corner of his eye.
Elizabeth patted the edge of her bed for him to arise and sit beside her once more. He did, and she patted his arm. “Now, it is your turn. Tell me why you are sitting before me with not so much as a scratch upon you, when your tunic suggests there should be injuries.” She requested.
Clifton took a deep breath. “I believe my news will surprise you, love.”
“Try me.”
He grinned at her response and nodded. “Well, when you passed out from your injury, Prince Isaac watched over you as I fetched our horses so that we may retreat back to the castle and have you attended. I returned, and as Isaac and I were speaking, I was stabbed from behind.” He turned so she could see the hole in the back of his tunic as well. She gasped and leaned forward to run h
er hand over the torn fabric. “But there is no bandage.” She stated in worry. “Are you alright?”
Clifton pulled her worried hand away from his back and held it between his. “Yes. I am more than fine. In fact, I am better than ever. See, when I was stabbed, Prince Isaac faced more guards pressing upon him. He could not make it back to the castle with both of us, Elizabeth. He had to choose to save one of us, or perhaps save us both with— a different method.”
Her blue eyes were serious as she listened carefully to each word. “He shoved me over the boundary line so that I might heal and so he could bring you back here.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked. “You crossed? How? For how long? Did you see Edward? How did you come back?”
Clifton chuckled at her rapid fire of questions. Elizabeth leaned back against her pillows in disbelief as she studied him. “I did cross. Your brother saw to me. He is a very kind man, Elizabeth. I was only there but a few minutes. When I healed, I was able to see you through the veil, lying on the ground while Isaac battled more guards. You were about to be attacked. I could not just stand there and watch, so I ran towards you. I passed through the boundary with ease and prevented the guard from killing you. I do not know how it happened or why I was able. That is something we are all trying to figure out, including your brother.”
Elizabeth sat in shock. “You can cross.” She stated quietly, pondering over her own words. “You can cross.” She repeated. Her eyes darted to his again and she leaned forward her eyes surveying every inch of his face. “You are completely healed.” Her words held disbelief at the sight before her. “I must speak with my father, and we must prepare a letter for Edward of news in regard to the outcome of the war here. I also want to know what he has learned from Lancer.” Elizabeth turned back her covers, forgetting the unwelcome sight of her bandaged stub, she began to swing her legs over the side of the bed. “Mary, fetch me my robes.” Her cream undershirts draped over her injury, hiding it from view, and Clifton chuckled. “Slow down now, love. You are healing. You need to rest. Your father and I have discussed what needs to take place, and the Council is preparing. But you— you need to heal.” He tried to put a restraining hand on her arm as she shifted to stand and lean against her bedpost in await of Mary.
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