The Unfading Lands The Complete Set

by Katharine E Hamilton

  “Do not be absurd, prince. I am part of the Council myself. I do not wish to be left out of the loop when the timing is critical.”

  He smiled at her stubbornness. “Elizabeth,” his voice was sweet as he eyed her in admiration. “You need to rest. Your injury is still healing. You could catch a fever if you overdo it. You are not out of the woods just yet.”

  “More reason for me to contribute as much as possible, just in case I take a turn for the worse.” Elizabeth countered. “Mary, my robes.” She ordered again.

  Clifton stood and walked towards the door. “I guess if I cannot change your mind, I will leave you to dress. Have Mary fetch me from outside your doors when you are ready to go downstairs. I will be your chariot, my Lady.” He winked at her as he eased her chamber door closed. Elizabeth smiled at his retreating back and welcomed the robes Mary gently placed over her shoulders and cinched around her waist. She watched as Mary placed a delicate slipper on her one foot and gently fluffed the bottoms of her skirts. “I believe you are ready, my Lady.”

  Elizabeth pushed off the bedpost to test her balance and hobbled with her arms stretched out on either side of her. Pain etched her forehead as she strained, her lips set in a firm line. A small welp of pain slipped from her lips and she finally leaned forward and rested against the bedpost once more.

  “Patience, Miss Elizabeth.” Mary stated quietly.

  “Yes, well I think we both know that has never been my strong suit, Mary.”

  Mary nodded. “I will fetch Prince Clifton.”

  Clifton walked into the room and proudly smiled at Elizabeth’s effort of standing on her own. “You will be running about the castle in no time, love.”

  She giggled as he scooped her into his arms with ease. “I hear there is a Council Meeting we are missing. Shall we?” He asked with a wink.

  She nodded. “Yes. Carry me away, Prince Clifton.”

  He laughed as he stepped through the doors and headed in the direction of the Council Room.

  ∞

  “If Clifton can cross, we need to figure out what it is that allowed him to do so.” Ryle presented to the Council. His piercing blue eyes shot around the room. “Perhaps it was his emotions at the time of his crossing that allowed him to push through.”

  “No.” Isaac replied. “If it were emotions, Prince Edward would have been able to cross back long ago.”

  “He has a point.” King Eamon replied. “Edward stated that Lancer spoke of his blood being the key to the sustenance of the Unfading Lands. His blood holds the boundary line up.” Eamon glanced down at his hands and then to his son. Ryle studied his father closely, his brows knitting together. His father was hiding something, he could feel it.

  The doors to the room opened and Clifton stood carrying Princess Elizabeth.

  “What on Earth?” Alayna gasped. “Prince Clifton, she should be resting.” The scold was halted by Elizabeth’s wide grin and wave. “No. I do not wish to rest. I wish to be a part of this Council. Father?” She looked to King Granton for permission.

  “Only if you are feeling up to it, my dear.”

  “Of course I am.” She answered promptly and pointed to an open chair for Clifton to ease her into. She sat next to King Anthony and King Eamon. Eamon reached over and lightly squeezed her hand in welcome.

  “Now, what was the topic of discussion?” She asked.

  “Lancer’s blood connection to the boundary line.” Ryle explained.

  “Ah, yes. I assume all of you have read Edward’s letters?” She asked, glancing to the kings in the room. They all nodded.

  “Good.” She replied. “And what have you all come to think?”

  Ryle repeated their thoughts and she lightly tapped her chin as she thought.

  “Father.” Ryle called to King Eamon. “Want to share with us what is on your mind?”

  Eamon’s eyes bounced up in surprise at his son calling him out in front of the group. “Pardon?”

  “You look as if you wish to say something.” Ryle studied him with suspicion. “Care to share?”

  King Eamon cleared his throat. “Not at the moment. There are still too many uncertainties.”

  Ryle’s inner voice rang warning bells in his head. It was unlike his father to withhold information, and the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach told Ryle he needed to push the matter harder. “We are all just tossing out theories, Father. Please?” He waved his hand for his father to share.

  Eamon glanced to Granton and ran a nervous hand over the front of his tunic to calm his racing heart. “I— well, I believe I may know of a connection— between Cliff and Lancer that could allow Clifton to cross.”

  Everyone stared at him on the edge of their seats, begging him to continue.

  Clifton leaned forward and patiently waited.

  “If Edward believes it is Lancer’s blood that controls the boundary line and Unfading Lands, we may have a secret weapon in our favor.” Eamon began. “If Lancer’s blood is required in order to obtain the ability to cross the lines freely, then there are several people who may be able to do so.”

  “What are you saying?” Ryle asked, his voice dropping to a steely level of impatience.

  “Lancer was once a normal man, son. He has… family within the Realm.”

  “Family who shares his blood. His bloodline.” Granton stated, finishing the king’s thought.

  “But how does that tie to Cliff?” Ryle asked with a wave of his hand towards his brother. “Are you trying to tell me my brother is a blood relative of Lancer?”

  King Eamon looked to Clifton and nodded. “Yes.” He paused as several people gasped around the room. Clifton’s eyes took on a hardness, laced with traces of uncertainty as he glanced at his father. “You both are.” Eamon added.

  Ryle’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward, piercing his father with a firm gaze. “How?”

  King Eamon glanced around the room. “I am sorry to have never shared this, but…”

  Elizabeth reached over and squeezed his hand. “You are sharing it now, my Lord, and that is all that matters. Please continue.”

  He smiled at her sweetness and regret covered his face as he looked to his sons. “Lancer is your mother’s brother.” He stated calmly. “You share his blood through your mother’s side. He is your uncle.”

  Ryle and Clifton both stared at their father in shock, as everyone at the table sat in silence. No one stirred as the awkwardness in the room created a stifling air.

  “Welllll….” Prince Isaac interrupted the quiet. “That sure explains a lot.”

  King Anthony cast his son a look of warning that Isaac shrugged away. “So, we figured out why Prince Clifton can cross. We can assume Prince Ryle can cross. Any other relatives we can send over there?”

  “Excuse me?” Ryle stated. “We are not crossing.”

  “Why not? Your brother did just fine. Perhaps a meeting with you and Edward is exactly what is needed. After all, future Captain of the Guard, I would think, militarily speaking, that you crossing to discuss matters with Edward may be quite beneficial.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Ryle grumbled. “What happens if I cross and am not able to return?”

  Isaac did not respond.

  “Exactly.” Ryle stated. “There are too many unknowns.”

  King Granton held up a hand to calm the tempers in the room. “The connection of blood relatives being able to cross makes the most sense. Perhaps we should mention this to Edward and hear his thoughts.”

  “I wish to write him a letter.” Elizabeth stated. “Prince Clifton will take it to him for me.”

  “No.” King Granton stated. “Prince Clifton and I will take it to him.”

  Alayna turned to her father. “Father, you are not well enough to ride. I highly…”

  “It is decided.” King Granton cut her off. “I wish to see my son. I know I am weak, but I wish to see Edward.”

  “Why do we not send you across, my king?” Isaac asked. Everyone turned, and
King Anthony’s eyes widened at his son’s outburst. Granton studied him closely but with curiosity. Isaac lifted his hands at the grueling glares cast upon him and leaned forward. “Hear me out.” He stated. “You are not feeling well, my king. And may I speak plainly?”

  “Not sure what has stopped you from doing so in the past.” Ryle barked.

  Isaac acknowledged the prince with a forced smile of annoyance and then turned back to the king. Granton nodded. Isaac took a deep breath, knowing the words he spoke may offend the king. “My Lord… your health is… unstable.”

  Alayna straightened in her chair and her eyes narrowed as she poised herself ready to defend her father from Prince Isaac’s assault.

  “Would it be such a risk if we sent you across the boundary line? You would get to see your son. You would also be healed of your ailments. With Prince Clifton’s ability to cross back and forth, you would still maintain open communication with the Realm while also being able to aid Prince Edward in the Unfading Lands.”

  “This is absurd.” Ryle tossed out.

  “I am not finished.” Isaac stated in annoyance. “He would live. He will not live here. That is a certainty. Yes, Princess Alayna is to take the throne soon, but we could utilize the king’s influence right under Lancer’s nose. I think it is the least expected event to occur.”

  “But what of the strength of the Lands? Sending the King of the Realm over the lines will surely cause the boundary line to shift in great leaps.” Eamon suggested.

  “Not if his loyalties remain with the Realm.” Isaac explained. “Do we really wish to lose our king? I do not mean to offend, princess, I believe you will be a worthy queen, but do you want to lose your father? We have an opportunity here, to conserve power and strength on our terms!” His voice rose in excitement. “Lancer believes the king is dying. If we send King Granton over the lines to Edward, Alayna will take the throne and Lancer will believe the king is dead. We could hide our biggest strength in the enemy’s camp, and Lancer will never know.”

  “Meanwhile,” Elizabeth chimed in with exuberance. “Edward and Father can establish an army of guards within the Lands that will aid the Realm when we wish to send troops across to defeat Lancer.”

  Isaac nodded at her in thanks and looked to King Granton. Granton shook his head and leaned back in his chair. The temptation was there, he thought. To live and not die. To cheat death and live a life with his son. A life he missed. Yet, he knew it was not the right decision. The Land of Unfading Beauty was evil. No good could come from using the Land’s power to live longer. Life was meant to end. Death was inevitable. Granton embraced the life he had lived and the path of death he must take. Yes, he wished to spend more time with his daughters and Edward, but if his life were meant to end soon, he wished it to end naturally. He did not wish to use the evil and darkness of Lancer to his advantage. He wished for the Realm to conquer without the use of darkness.

  “I will not cross.” Granton stated. Elizabeth’s hope of saving her father deflated.

  “But Father, you could live.” She pleaded.

  He offered her a tender smile. “I know my dear. But the Lands are not to be trusted. I do not wish to use Lancer’s evil for my personal gain. There is a time for everything, even death. I do not wish for the Realm to succumb to the use of darkness. I will remain within the Realm.”

  Isaac and Elizabeth exchanged disappointed glances, but both understood the king’s position.

  “That being said, I do believe there is truth in what Prince Isaac states. Prince Clifton can cross. We must utilize the open communication with Edward. This is a new advantage.”

  Prince Clifton nodded. “I will make daily visits to the boundary, my Lord.”

  “Yes.” King Granton ordered, his eyes growing weary as he leaned heavily on the armrest of his chair. “Those who wish to prepare a letter for Edward may do so now. Prince Clifton and I will leave after breakfast in the morning to meet with him at the boundary. For now, we continue to celebrate our victory over the South, with a good night’s rest.” King Granton stood and he motioned for Clifton to help Elizabeth, who had grown severely quiet towards the end of the meeting due to the pain in her leg. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  Everyone stood to leave and Alayna looked to Elizabeth. “You need to take it easy, sister.” She warned Elizabeth. “You will not heal if you demand to be present at every meeting.”

  “I wish to be present, Alayna. I refuse to be placed in solitary because I am weak. I can still serve.” Elizabeth reached up as Clifton rounded the table and carefully lifted her into his arms.

  “She is to go straight to her chambers, prince.” Alayna ordered. “And no lingering. She needs her rest.”

  Clifton and Elizabeth both smirked at the scolding as Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder. He could feel her tiredness and slowly made his way up the stairs.

  ∞

  Prince Samuel sat at the bottom of the stairwell, his chin resting on his crossed arms as he leaned against his knees. He wished to join in on the Council meeting but knew he did not have a place within the Realm’s Council just yet. He pondered over the death of his brother and struggled with feelings of loss and betrayal. His father. He sniffed back tears at the thought of his father’s last breath. How must it have felt to be betrayed by his eldest son? Samuel’s heart ached at the thought, and he hoped his father knew of his loyalty there at the end. His mind then wandered to the Northern guard that was held captive at his kingdom. His head perked up as he realized there would be no one there with the authority to free him… except for himself. He was the prince. Surely now that his brother was gone, he could go back to his kingdom and reestablish the Southern Kingdom. Perhaps Prince Ryle would assist him. He shook away the thought. No. No one would want a young man taking over an entire kingdom. No matter his rights to the throne, he was too young. King Granton would most likely place a steward over the throne until he became of age. Three years. Samuel sighed heavily at the disappointment. He glanced up as he heard footfalls on the stairs.

  “Ah, Samuel.” Prince Ryle smiled at the young prince, his former distrust now erased due to Samuel’s loyal service. “You must get some rest, my friend. It has been an eventful day.”

  Samuel nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”

  Ryle stopped and eyed him curiously. “Is something wrong?”

  Samuel shook his head. “No, my Lord. Just tired, I suppose.”

  “Hm.” Ryle nodded taking Samuel at his word, though he could see something weighed on the boy’s mind. “Well get some rest. Tomorrow King Granton and I wish to speak to you about your father’s kingdom.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, there is much to discuss.” Ryle gave him a friendly pat on the back as he walked off. Samuel watched the confident prince stride through the main hall in the direction of his chambers. The future King of the East, Samuel thought. Would he ever compare to Prince Ryle? He became depressed at the thought of that comparison and turned at the slight touch to his elbow. Princess Melody smiled at him.

  “I wondered if you might escort me to my chambers, my Lord?”

  Samuel’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “Of course, my Lady.” He allowed Melody to link her arm with his as he led her down the hall.

  “You look as if you have lost your best friend, Prince Samuel. Are you sad over the loss of your brother?”

  Samuel walked silently a few moments as he struggled with his answer. “Is it awful that I honestly do not know?”

  “Not at all.” Melody comforted.

  “I fear I am struggling with my emotions over the loss of both my father and my brother. Both of them had corrupted views of the Realm, but they are still my family. What is to become of me now that they are gone?”

  “I would think you would become king, my Lord.” Melody stated without doubt.

  Samuel took a shaky breath and laughed nervously. “I fear I am a long way from being ready for that position. I am not sure I ever will be ready.”
>
  “You are ready, Samuel. You risked your life for the Realm at the cost of your own loyalty to your kingdom. Nothing speaks of more honor than that.” She praised him softly. They reached the door to her chambers and Prince Isaac opened the door to step out. His brow rose in curiosity at the sight of his sister on the arm of the young prince. A small smirk tilted his lips as they both bowed to him.

  “Prince Isaac.” Samuel stated humbly. He then released Melody’s arm and bowed to her as well. “It was a pleasure, Princess Melody.”

  She curtsied and smiled. “Likewise, Prince Samuel.”

  Samuel watched as she entered the room, his gaze floating over Isaac’s shoulder until he saw the princess no more. His brown gaze then fell upon the amused expression of her older brother and he fumbled. “Um, good night, my Lord.” He blushed at the scrutiny and walked off.

  Isaac stepped into the hall on a snicker and made his way to the portico. He wasn’t quite sure where he was headed; all he knew was that he needed some air. Normally when he felt bogged down by a mood, he would find himself a lass and have some fun. Yet, that idea did not quite appeal to him at the moment. Odd, he thought. He never quite pictured himself not finding that idea appealing. His mouth straightened at the distasteful thought as he headed towards the stables. His mind replayed the events of the day. Was it really just this morning that the battles began? In a day’s time, loyalties were tested and friendships were strengthened. He thought of Princess Elizabeth. She was an honorable woman, he thought. Full of fire and passion. What was he thinking throwing away his opportunity to wed a woman like that? He shook his head. They had fought together, a team. She was a skilled fighter and an even better friend. He found he valued her, and her opinion of him more than he valued his own father’s. She saw through him. He should hope to never disappoint her again. Though he could not have her as his wife, Isaac knew she would forever be special to him. They had saved each other from death and perhaps their own pride. He eased himself down on a bench outside the stables and studied the surrounding landscape. It was dark, but his eyes could still make out the small flickers of lanterns throughout the kingdom and castle grounds. A kingdom, recovering from a fight, so that tomorrow’s sun could bring about a new day of rebuilding. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the wooden boards of the stable house and closed his eyes. His body ached from the abuse of the day, and he was exhausted. Yet, he did not want to be within his chambers to rest. He found the castle stifling. His father’s worried gaze smothered him. His sister’s adoration smothered him. He did not deserve such praise or concern. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the night until he drifted off to sleep.