The Unfading Lands The Complete Set

by Katharine E Hamilton

  “They’ll return.” She said quietly.

  Hearing his quiet sigh, she smiled softly. “She’ll return.” She corrected, turning to see the soft blush work its way over the Prince’s olive skin. His dark eyes and hair spoke of his origins in the South, but his character spoke of honor and sacrifice that contradicted his upbringing. Samuel will be a noble king for the Southern Kingdom, she thought. Though only fifteen, the boy had plenty of time to grow into the role, and with her help, and the help from the East and West, she knew he could handle the position.

  She lightly patted his shoulder. “How about we eat some dinner?”

  He nodded in agreement, but she caught the last disappointed gaze he flashed towards the horizon before stepping inside the castle.

  ∞

  Edward glanced down at his palms. Nothing. He stood to his feet and surveyed Lancer’s reflection chamber. All was normal now, yet he wasn’t. He sensed it. Inside him. The darkness. He was different. He ran his hands nervously through his onyx hair, leaving it standing in multiple directions. His ice, blue eyes darted from corner to cranny, and though empty, he still felt uneasy. He hastily made his way to the door, opening the barricade between his old self and the new. He peaked out of the doorway, and noting the coast as clear, he slipped into the hall and quickly made his way to the stables. He had to check on Cecilia and his fellow Uniters, his army of followers who wished to see the Lands destroyed. With this new strength, he knew he could possibly pass through the boundary line and into the Realm. He needed to try, but he wished to make sure everyone was safe first.

  How did he not see it before? Hatred? He wondered what hatred had consumed Lancer enough to make him wish to create his own world separated from his loved ones. What would drive a man to such extremes? There had to be a reason, Edward thought, and he would figure it out. With the help of Prince Clifton and the rest of the Realm, Edward would figure it out. He knew the East and West both departed from his father’s castle that morning, but his communications with the Realm had just begun. With Prince Clifton’s ability to cross the boundary, new ideas could take shape. It would take him several days to journey to the Eastern border of the lands, and he was not sure if he could make the trip without gathering the suspicion of Lancer. Therefore, he would hang close to the boundary line where he and Elizabeth used to meet and pray someone came to pay him a visit. If not, he would send Cecilia to the Eastern boundary line to meet with Prince Clifton.

  He made his way into the clearing and made quick work of hunting down Cecilia. True to form, he spotted her blonde hair sitting alongside several other women as they prepared a campfire meal for fellow Uniters. Sensing his presence, her sweet face glanced up and a tender smile spread over her lips but then quickly vanished as her brow wrinkled. He slid to the ground and she met him half way. “What on Earth, Edward?” She asked, her hands roaming over his face and shoulders. He glanced down and it was then he noticed the charred remains of his tunic. Burned fabric clung to him as black soot covered his face and neck. “I, uh… I was in the reflection chamber.” He whispered softly.

  “And what happened?” Cecilia’s gaze washed over him again and she led him to a log to sit. “You do not look yourself, Edward.”

  “Nothing happened, Cecilia.” He lied. “I went into Lancer’s reflection chamber to try and discover the secrets behind his power.”

  “And?” Cecilia prodded.

  “And nothing.” Edward added. “The flames enveloped me, but I did not burn, and nothing.”

  ∞

  Alayna slowly unfolded the small parchment that Prince Clifton had handed her before his departure. The wax seal showcased her father’s signet ring and she traced her fingers over it until she could bear it no longer. She took a deep breath as she broke the seal and lifted the page to read.

  My Dearest Alayna,

  If you are reading this, then Prince Clifton must have found this letter upon my death and given it to you. I am glad he did. I know you are probably still wondering why I chose the boundary line as my deathbed, but I had to see Edward. I needed your brother to know I loved him. I know you and Elizabeth are saddened by my passing, but please do not dwell upon things lost. But look to things that are to come. Your sister’s marriage to Prince Clifton will be a joyous occasion and she will need you to calm her nerves. Elizabeth may seem strong, but beneath her bravado is the tender heart of your younger sister. She will need you, Alayna. Not as queen, but as a sister.

  I feel most confident in our merger with the East. I also feel confident in the change in guard. Prince Ryle will serve the Realm well, and he will guard you with his life. Together, I know you two will discover a path to defeat the Unfading Lands and Lancer. Utilize your friends of the East and West. Do not underestimate Prince Samuel of the South and his contribution either. Be open to change and suggestions. Most importantly, always choose the path your heart feels is right. Sometimes the hardest course is the one that must be taken. Know your enemy. The true enemy. Lancer, though potentially evil, is not the enemy. The darkness that consumes him is the enemy. Remember that, my dear. Should there be a way to spare his life, I beg of you to consider it. Even the most lost of people can potentially be saved. Think like a Queen in regard to the protection of your people, but think with your heart through the process.

  The Realm is in good hands with you, Alayna. You will be a wonderful queen. My hope for you is to one day find a love like your sister and share the burden of leadership. For it is a blessing, but sometimes a burden. It helps to have a confidant and supporter by your side. I cherish the times I had with your mother, and I wish for you to have the same.

  Keep your chin up, my dear. Keep your eyes on the boundary and the enemy. But keep your heart focused on hope and the goodness of our people. I love you dearly.

  Your father

  Alayna studied her father’s handwriting a moment longer and lightly wiped away her tears. She folded it neatly and tucked it into the pocket of her emerald surcoat. It would remain with her, she thought, as a silent guide. She took a shaky breath as her mind wandered to Elizabeth and her sister’s journey to the East. Her sister’s injury had yet to fully heal, and Alayna knew Elizabeth was in physical pain when she left. They had not given her enough time to recover, Alayna feared. Perhaps Prince Clifton will insist she take it easy once they arrive in the East, and Elizabeth will have no choice but to rest. She smiled at the thought of Prince Clifton having to somehow tame her sister’s rambunctious spirit. She knew he fell in love with that side of Elizabeth, for which she was grateful, but she also knew he would have his hands full with her. Sighing, Alayna stood and walked to the edge of the balcony that overlooked the main hall. This was her castle now, just her. She would be the queen in less than a month and she would rule from her father’s throne. Her gaze wandered over the resolute structure below, the darkened wood carved with intricate designs that represented the Realm. She would sit there as queen, she thought. Was she ready?

  She heard footsteps below and spotted Prince Ryle’s dark hair as he travelled through the main hall and stopped to talk with two attendants. She felt her lips rise into a soft smile and her pulse quicken at the sight of him. What would it be like to serve the Realm together? Before she knew it, his piercing sapphire eyes found hers and he smiled up at her. He bowed regally as he made his way to the stairwell to rise to meet her on the landing.

  “My Queen.” He bowed again and stepped towards her, his hands clasped behind his back as he turned to look out over the main hall of the castle as well. “What a view you have from up here.” He commented with a pleased smile. “Now I see why your father seemed to linger up here most of the day.”

  “Yes, it gives a great view.” Alayna added. “Any word from your father or brother?”

  He turned to her and a slow smile tilted his lips. “Not yet, but I am sure that is due to the fact they only left a few hours ago.”

  She blushed and turned her gaze back to the hall.

  “I ima
gine we will receive a letter of their arrival once they reach the Eastern Kingdom.” Ryle continued. “You miss your sister?”

  “Yes, I do.” She admitted. “She seemed to bring life to the castle. I didn’t realize how much until now. Do you miss your father and brother?”

  “I do. But I know I will see them in a few days when I travel there to renounce my claim to the throne.”

  “You are sure you still wish to go through with it?” She asked him, her creamy brown gaze full of uncertainty as she glanced over him. He turned with a confident smile. “Of course I do. I wish to serve you, my Queen.” He saw the slight disappointment in her gaze before she smiled and nodded. “I am glad, Prince Ryle. I know you will serve the Realm well.”

  “We will make a great team.” He added. “I spoke with Samuel, and he wishes to stay here until after your coronation. He does not wish for his own coronation until after the Realm has a new queen. He finds it an honor to have you preside over his coronation. I told him that would be fine. I figure he will be added company to you while I journey to the East.”

  “I see.” Alayna turned to face him. “I assure you, Prince Ryle, that I do not need to be coddled. Though I am saddened by my father’s death and my sister’s departure, I assure you I can withstand being alone in my own castle.”

  Ryle pulled back slightly in surprise and his brow creased. “I beg your pardon, Alayna. I did not mean any offense. I just wished to share with you Samuel’s request and that I find it befitting for him to linger because he has no family to go home to as of yet, and he is quite reluctant. I merely meant the boy wished to stay as long as possible without wearing out his welcome.”

  Alayna’s hardened gaze slightly softened into one of pity. “I did not think of that. I apologize, Prince Ryle. You are right. Samuel is welcome to stay here as long as he wishes. I did not consider the disarray of his own household and kingdom. I wish for him to face those only when he is ready.”

  Ryle nodded. “Well, if you do not need me for anything else, your Highness, I am going to set about familiarizing myself with the guard. I feel a transfer in leadership might be an adjustment for them.”

  “Yes. You are right.”

  He bowed and began to walk away.

  “Oh! And Prince Ryle!” Alayna called after him. He turned at the edge of the stairwell. “Thank you… for wanting to stay.”

  A wide smile spread over his face. “You’re welcome, Alayna.”

  She noted the lack of formality in his response but found herself quite pleased. Instead of correcting him, she nodded and watched as he departed down the stairs.

  ∞

  Prince Clifton restlessly adjusted as the carriage lulled to a stop and the drumming of hooves ceased. He turned to find Elizabeth still asleep on his shoulder, but her once peaceful demeanor was now marred with sweat and a scowl. Her eyes were closed, yet she slightly moaned in pain. Her leg must be bothering her, Clifton thought. He lightly tapped her hand and squeezed her delicate fingers, her skin hot to the touch. She did not move. He then placed the back of his hand to her forehead and felt a scorching fever. He felt a slight panic rise in his chest as he lightly shook her arm and tried to awaken her. “Elizabeth.” He nudged her arm. “Elizabeth, love, time to wake up. We have arrived.”

  Nothing. Not even a flutter of lashes. Clifton lightly lifted the edges of her formal wedding gown and pulled it up just high enough to gaze upon her false leg. Blood streamed down the sides of the wood and he lifted her petticoat higher to see the bandages soaked through, swelling, and too much blood. He swished the fabrics back over her as the carrier door opened and cheers from the Eastern Kingdom citizens erupted. King Eamon waited patiently outside the carriage for his son and new daughter-in-law.

  “Father!” Clifton called, his voice edged with worry. King Eamon stepped towards the doorway and noted the pallor of Elizabeth’s skin. “She is asleep. Her bandages are soaked through, she’s feverish, and she won’t wake up. I think an infection has set in.” Clifton reported, his eyes filled with fear at the thought of losing his new bride. King Eamon slipped into the carriage and shut the door for privacy. Clifton lifted the edges of her dress again and King Eamon inhaled deeply. He tapped the top of the roof and the carrier continued onward towards the backside of the castle to avoid the celebratory welcome. “We must get her to bed immediately. I will fetch Arnos. He will see to her. She will be fine, Cliff. She will be fine.”

  “How can you say that?” Clifton bit back his anxiety and shook his head. “I knew she was pushing herself too hard. We should have waited a few weeks. What were we thinking rushing such mobility and stress?”

  “What is done, is done, son. Now, we must tend to her.” King Eamon cast a nervous glance towards Elizabeth and lightly squeezed her hand. When the carriage halted, Eamon stepped out quickly and Clifton followed, reaching inside to lift Elizabeth into his arms. She hung limply, and all the attendants that awaited them exchanged looks of concern as Clifton’s panicked face sought after one of them. Mary. Mary made her way through the crowded entry hall to his side and lightly brushed Elizabeth’s sweaty bangs from her forehead. “I fear, Mary, she has caught infection. My father is fetching our healer, but I need you to help me tend to her.” Clifton softly ordered, a sadness in his voice.

  “Yes, my Lord. I have prepared your chambers. We must take her to the bed.” Mary began leading the way through the castle halls towards a back chamber that overlooked the gardens. She had the curtains pulled back so that Elizabeth’s first view would be a welcome sight of the beautiful flower gardens the Eastern Kingdom had to offer, but privacy dictated her movements of quickly drawing the drapes closed. Clifton carried Elizabeth to the large four poster bed and gently laid her on top of the covers. He then lifted the edges of her skirts and Mary gasped.

  “Can you change her out of her dress, Mary?” He asked quietly.

  “Yes, my Lord. Of course.”

  “Good. I will be just outside awaiting my father and Arnos. Please fetch me when you have her settled. Do not touch her wound. I will have Arnos take care of it.”

  “Yes, my Prince.” Mary made quick work of untying the corset around Elizabeth’s waist and carefully removed the layers of formal dress until all that remained were her underskirts. She then eased Elizabeth’s body back against the pillows and placed fresh linens beneath her injury so as not to soak through to the bedding. She hastily walked to the door and opened it to the three men outside in the hall. Clifton quickly rushed to his wife’s side and clasped her hand as Arnos, the kingdom’s most trusted healer, made his way towards the new princess. “She is a beautiful woman, Prince Clifton. I imagine she holds quite a smile when she feels up to it.”

  “Yes, she does.” Clifton lightly kissed the back of her hand. “Very beautiful.”

  King Eamon eased into a chair across the room and watched as Arnos began removing the straps around Elizabeth’s waist and shoulders. He gripped the false leg around the calf and softly tugged, the peeling sound of suctioned blood and soaked bandages making Clifton’s stomach roll. Arnos set it aside and unwrapped the remaining bandages. “I did not know your new wife would have an artificial leg.”

  “It is not common knowledge.” Clifton stated. “It is an injury that happened recently, and one we wish to keep quiet.”

  Arnos took the silent warning in stride. “How long ago?”

  “Five days, I believe.” Clifton commented.

  Arnos’ head snapped up. “Five days?! My Lord, she should not be walking on this.” He turned a nervous glance towards King Eamon. “She should have allowed the wound to heal properly first before a peg was even attached. This is most unheard of, your Highness.”

  “Circumstances did not allow for such a wait.” Clifton explained.

  “Yes, well these circumstances may just cost her her life, your Grace. The infection is severe and by the looks of her skin, I would say she has only but a few days.”

  Clifton ran a hand through his golden hair an
d flashed a terrified glance towards his father who slowly rose to his feet and walked over. “Arnos, please do what you can for the princess.”

  “I will, my King, but I’m just warning you that the future looks bleak.”

  Arnos, an older man with a slight hunch to his back and scarcely any hair on his head had been the healer for the castle as long as Clifton could remember. He took care of his mother until she passed, and he knew his father trusted him. Arnos did not fear the wrath of the king, nor the disappointed glares he received at bedsides during bleak hours. Once, Clifton admired him for this, but at the moment, the crotchety old man upset him to the core with his frankness. There was hope for Elizabeth. He did not marry her and bring her with him just for her to die. No. She would live. Clifton eased his hip onto the bed and sat, and lightly threaded his fingers through hers. He kissed her knuckles and softly ran his fingertips over her pale cheek. Her lashes fluttered at his touch and a faint smile tilted his lips. “Hang in there, my love. You can fight this. You are a fighter, for that we know is true.”

  Eamon looked at Mary and the way she worried the small hand towel in her hands. “Mary,” he interrupted the silence, “you think you could keep watch over the princess while Prince Clifton and I see to other matters?”

  “Of course, my Lord.” Mary bowed.

  “I am not leaving her.” Clifton tossed a heated gaze over his shoulder towards his father, his green eyes blazing.

  “You must, Cliff. We have matters to attend to. Arnos and Mary will see to her and let us know of any change. You may come back as soon as we finish.” King Eamon stated patiently. He watched as his son kissed Elizabeth’s forehead and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks as if willing her to wake up. He knew the pain his son felt. How many weeks did he sit by his beloved Erica’s bedside and wish for the same thing? He knew the death of a love was hard. And death is exactly what he felt was coming for dear Elizabeth. Clifton stepped towards him and he lightly draped his arm around his son’s shoulders as they walked out. Perhaps he could spare his son at least some of the pain by removing him from her side during her darkest hours.