Unbroken (Unarmed Trilogy #2)

by Nina Monroe

  "She's been very thorough, it seems," Will said before he pushed his curls off his forehead. Garrett spotted him and moved forward swiftly, and barely even nodded to Hudson.

  "The men are unsure of what they are to be doing. Do we set up our tents or will King Turner have room for us in the palace?" Garrett began when the doors to the palace opened. A few women came out and Will recognized them as servant girls for the Roth family. They dressed similarly to the girls in his own palace. They brushed past the Thurston soldiers and the Roth people working and to Will.

  "Prince William?" the older woman asked. Will nodded before she grabbed his arm. "You're in need of a bath, Your Grace. You smell rancid." Her hand on his arm felt gnarly from years of service but the old woman had strength as she dragged Will up the steps.

  "My men need tending to," Will said as the woman pulled him into the palace, where it was considerably cooler. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the cooler air float over him.

  "The kitchen servants are nearly finished with their food. The King is looking for space to put some of them," the woman continued as Will stared up at the absolute beauty of the palace. The ceiling was painted with the most beautiful mural and the floor wasn't wood, like his. The walls were stark white and the furniture were all light colors. The grand staircase was marble with carvings of faces at the base of the bannister. Will was overwhelmed by the grandeur and wealth of Tamzin's family. "We apologize for how long everything is taking, but this is all quite a shock. Tamzin is in quite a state, which is why it took so long for us to bathe her."

  "The King is very angry?" Will asked when Tamzin's condition was brought up. She was covered in bruises and hadn't been properly bathed in months. What he provided her in his camp was only enough to remove the dirt from her skin, but he didn't have the proper oil to make her hair shine or her skin glow. Will could already hear King Turner's barks at his inadequate treatment and care of his daughter. It was a point that Will could not argue. Though he loved her more than life itself, Will could see from her life here that he was woefully unable to care for Tamzin the way she deserved.

  The old woman stopped dragging him up the stairs and turned to look at Will.

  "If the Princess wasn't swelling and she hadn't gotten on her knees to beg for your life, why I think you would have had your head cut off by now."

  Chapter Four

  The old woman forced Will into a porcelain bathtub, very different from the wooden ones from home. The old woman seemed to care very little about Will's nakedness and only grumbled about the dirt that was caked on his skin, along with the sweat. Will hadn't spoken since the old woman told him just how much anger and hostility King Turner had towards him and he wondered if he should bring his sword with him.

  As Will was bathed, he could see the sun setting as he stared out the window. If this were the North, it would be past dinnertime and he would be in his study or spending time with Tamzin. But in the South, time meant something different. Gregory used to say that he didn't like how the South lived; they moved slower than the North. The North did things when they had to be done, but the South accomplished tasks after long breaks, long dinners, and after time spent for pleasure occurred. This bath had taken longer than necessary, but Will found himself relaxed, despite the state of relations between Roth and Thurston.

  "I hope this fits you, Your Grace," the woman said as she stepped away from the tub and walked towards the armoire. Like the North, the South had rooms for tubs and privies, but they actually kept the tub in this separate room. It was too cold to go from one room to another after bathing in the North. The room was very large, much too large for just an armoire, a bathtub, and a privy. There were very little decorations in the room and it was sterile white, much like the rest of the palace. "Princess Tamzin picked it out herself from the seamstress. It was supposed to be a wedding gift."

  "What happened?" Will asked as he watched the woman pull out a long, intricately made tunic and a pair of fitted breeches with a cape. The clasp of the cape came together to make a 'T'. The gift was probably the nicest thing Will owned, and that included the outfit he wore when he married Tamzin.

  "I wouldn't know anything about that, Your Highness," the woman said as she laid out the outfit on the clean floor and reached for the towel that was resting against the tub. "Come on. You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

  Will put his hands on the side of the tub and pulled himself up. He was very relaxed and his limbs felt like jelly as he stepped out of the tub. The floor felt cool on his feet, but he wasn't freezing like he would normally be at home. The woman dried him quickly with the towel before she pulled his head down by his ear and fluffed his wet hair. She laughed.

  "A well known war lord has a halo of curls," she said as she fluffed his curls again. She handed Will the damp towel, which he wrapped around his waist and watched as the woman fiddled with a comb, which she coated with a substance.

  "What is that?" Will asked with suspicion. He barely combed his hair, let alone put any product in it. He wasn't Tamzin; he didn't need to look pretty for anyone.

  "Your Princess told me to clean you up. You may be allowed to look like a wild animal in the North, but this is the South!" the woman said as she grabbed his ear again. "Do me a favor and shrink!" she said as she ran the comb through his hair and pushed it back. "It will smooth your hair back, but keeps your curls intact. You look distinguished. You would look terrible with straight hair."

  "Thank you," Will said sarcastically as the woman took a step back with a satisfied smile.

  "Well, you are handsome and you obviously made the Princess feel something for you long enough to put that babe in her belly, which means you can't be all bad," the woman said as she handed him his fresh clothes. "If I were you, I would just accept any lashing the King is going to give you."

  "I have the right to defend myself," Will countered as he pulled on his smallclothes beneath his towel and then pulled on his breeches. He had thought the fabric would make him hotter, but it was pleasantly thin. He could feel the air circulate through the fabric as he moved slightly.

  "You do, but you've suddenly brought over one thousand men and his daughter is not in the best of conditions. No one believes you did anything..."

  "I would never, ever lay a hand on her," Will growled at the old woman. "I love her."

  "Did I say that you didn't? My point is that you're not exactly in a position to be talking down to anyone," the woman said as she handed him his tunic. "The most the King will do is yell and berate you. After that, he may not be friendly, but he will leave you alone. He is aware of the Princess' feelings towards you, and the fact that she has your child in her belly. The alliance is sealed forever."

  The alliance was apparently all that mattered. Will didn't utter a word as the woman wrapped the thin cloak around his shoulders. He could see his reflection in the nearby mirror and he did look distinguished, but what was awaiting him left him feeling nervous. Will Thurston never felt nervous. He cared very little what Turner Roth thought of him, but Tamzin had been separated from him all day. Had Turner convinced her that Will wasn't prime husband material?

  "How old are you?" the woman asked as she smoothed out the cloak. "You must be close in age to the Princess."

  "I'm nearly nineteen," Will responded robotically before he adjusted his cloak. "Thank you for your help."

  "It's been my pleasure, Your Highness," the old woman said before she left the room. Will bit the inside of his cheek as he focused his energy away from his nervousness and the pit in his stomach. He looked down on the ground, where he grabbed his boots and slid them over his feet. He left the room and walked into the bedroom chambers. It was a guest chambers, which made Will's stomach churn more. Why wasn't he taken to Tamzin's chambers?

  The room was spacious, with a large canopy bed against the wall, a vanity, an armoire, and bookcase shelves built into the wall. The far wall had no door, but opened up to a balcony. When he was nearby, Will co
uld smell the perfumed air again. How could Tamzin tolerate living in the North after spending her life here? Cautiously, Will approached the doorway where he gently touched the knob. He turned and opened the door slowly and peered out into the hallway. He had guards posted outside his door.

  "Are you ready, Your Grace?" the soldier asked with a firm and emotionless voice. "We are to escort you to the Throne Room when you're ready."

  "I am ready," Will responded as he sized up his two potential opponents. They had their swords, but Will was educated enough to ponder their moves. They didn't reach for his weapons like he was a prisoner, but led him forward. Neither soldier said a word as they walked down the grand marble staircase. The doors to the palace were kept open for the breeze and Will could feel it through his clothes. As he watched the soldiers in front of him, he observed their clothes. They had heavy armor on, but nothing covered their arms and they seemed to wear skirts, almost. Will wore similar garbs, but he had pants on underneath. It was then that he realized they had purposely dressed him in Northern style of clothes. Will would stick out like a sore thumb in front of the Southerners.

  It took the strength of both soldiers to open the doors to the Throne Room. Will was nearly blinded by how much light there was. Sunlight streamed in from the windows near the ceiling and the skylight over the throne. The room had to be three to four times larger than the Thurston Throne Room, but similarly set up. Will watched the nobles of Roth, all dressed with much less clothing than was necessary. Roth was much more populous than Thurston and it showed. The territory was the richest in the Realm, and made their money from use of ports, development of weapons, and the terrain was perfect for crops and cotton for clothes. They needed Thurston men protection and Thurston needed their wealth.

  The ceiling was painted and for light, there were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Will was taken aback by the grandeur of it all until he saw the Royal Family. The Roths looked very different in their Southern clothes; Turner wore breeches that stopped just below his knee with gladiator sandals and a jerkin made of cloth instead of leather. His crown was made of gold and shined with the sunlight. Gemma wore a gold dress that showed off her shoulders and chest. She was sitting in her throne with a grim look on her face. Her eyes were decorated with bronzed shadow. Thom wore a similar outfit to his father, and his crown was significantly smaller.

  Then there was Tamzin.

  Her dress was white, with a sweetheart neckline and straps that tied behind her neck. Underneath her breasts was another tie that tied behind her back and it shined in the light. Will noted she wore her Thurston crown, something that made Will breathe a sigh of relief. Tamzin's hands were resting in her lap as her lips lifted into a slight smile when she saw him. Will stared openly at her and licked his lips at her dress that clung to her breasts and swollen belly. Her hair was left down, though she had a braid across the crown of her head. They had done something to make her skin darker, more sun kissed, and it was a good look for her. She was beautiful.

  Will wanted to smile, but his attention was drawn to Turner Roth, who stood as Will approached. Turner was taller than Will remembered, but it may have been his own bravado as he was on his own turf now.

  "Prince William," Turner said with his lips in a grim, thin line. Will could see Tamzin try to stand, but her mother put her hand on Tamzin's arm to stop her. "This is certainly not how I planned to see you again."

  "The feeling is mutual, Your Grace," Will responded respectfully as he put his hands behind his back and bent forward to bow slightly. "I didn't know I would be taking my wife back home so quickly."

  "You can spin it however you want, but the fact is that you came to my doorstep with one thousand men and my daughter in less than ideal conditions," Turner said as he turned to look at Tamzin. "I've heard the story from Tamzin, but I'm interested to hear it from you. What could you have been thinking to leave your swelling wife, my daughter, alone when you went off to war?"

  "I didn't know she was with child and we had no reason to suspect that Johansson soldiers were hiding in the forest," Will defended, though he knew the excuse was weak. Turner was going to use this to show his constituents that he had the upper hand over the Thurstons. They may have been allies, but someone still had to come out on top.

  "You were attacked in the woods and would have been killed if it hadn't been for a rock and my men that weren't too far," Turner replied as he began to pace in front of his throne. "That wasn't reason enough to leave behind substantial men to look after her?"

  "I don't need looking after," Tamzin grumbled as she leaned back in her throne. "I'm not a child."

  "No one insinuated that you're a child, Tamzin," Turner said with love evident in his voice. "But as you can see, there are men that think you are automatically weak because you are a woman. It's a sad truth that the more your child grows, the less able you will be to defend yourself."

  "I defended myself just fine when I killed Junior Johansson," Tamzin said as she stood from her throne, her dress fell delicately over her legs, and she waddled towards Will. She took his hand as she stood next to him.

  "What are you doing?" Turner asked her as Gemma watched with interest.

  "You promised me you weren't going to hurt him, so I'm going to make sure you keep that promise," Tamzin said as Will's fingers continued to tangle with hers. "The truth is that you're both to blame for what's happened. Will should have left more soldiers and we should have never brought Lucy into Thurston."

  Will watched, with slight amusement, as Turner's face turned crimson from his daughter's statement. Turner would never say anything to Tamzin in public, but he could only imagine what their private conversation would entail.

  "Gregory Thurston knew exactly who was coming into his territory," Turner replied angrily as he looked to Will. "You knew a potential enemy was in your midst, even after she openly betrayed you, and you still risked my daughter's life."

  "We didn't know Lucy was a Johansson. It was one thing for Tamzin to not say something, but you, as the King, most certainly should have," Will said as he unlaced his hand from Tamzin's and took a step forward. "I made a mistake, yes, but you didn't let us know what we were dealing with."

  "Your father claims I didn't tell him exactly who Lucy Johansson was?" Turner asked before he turned to look at Gemma, who had a sour look on her face. "What do you think we spoke about after our first dinner together when I traveled to your Territory?"

  Whatever retort Will had been preparing was silenced. Tentatively, he looked behind to look at Tamzin, who appeared to be just as perplexed.

  "My father wouldn't lie to me. He would never let danger like that come to our territory," Will responded, but his tongue felt heavy. "He has no reason to do this."

  "A man who wants power has enough reason to do anything," Turner muttered softly enough that only those in his immediate vicinity could hear him. "Out! Everyone out!" Turner yelled enough to startle the members of court. Will watched as people stumbled over one another to get out faster and said nothing as Tamzin took his hand in hers again.

  When the hall was clear, Turner returned his attention back to Will and Tamzin.

  "Your father told you that I hadn't informed him of who Lucy was?" Turner questioned as he approached Will. "Why would I do that?"

  "Perhaps to ensure that my territory would fall? I come to you desperate and now you own me," Will said with fury in his eyes. "Did Tamzin know of your plan?"

  "There is no plan, Will," Tamzin said gently as she placed her hand on his wrist. "Think rationally. No one wants to join the Johanssons. My family receives no gain from this. My father will lose money from housing us."

  "My father has no reason to lie to me. He wouldn't lie to me," Will said defiantly as he continued to stare at Turner. "You may be a King, but I, too, will be a King someday. You cannot intimidate me like I am a child."

  "I'm not looking to intimidate you. I'm looking to strike the fear of God into you," Turner said as he approached W
ill. "You better thank whatever being there is for how this worked out. If she was dead," Turner said as he pointed to Tamzin, "you and I would be going to war. You do know that don't you?"

  "And I would have beaten you, like every other time," Will said before he felt Tamzin tug on his arm.

  "Okay, this needs to stop," Tamzin said as she came to stand in between them. "You're my father and he's my husband. Whether you like it or not, he is the father of your grandchild and right now, the enemy of both of you wants my baby. Douglas Johansson thinks my child is his grandchild and he is going to kill me if you two don't stop fighting. This is what he wants," Tamzin said with gritted teeth as she physically separated them.

  "You're right," Will grunted before he crossed his arms over his chest. "You and I are family. We have to trust each other."

  "Tamzin, sweetheart," Gemma intervened as she took Turner's arm. "Perhaps you and Will should take your dinner in your chambers. Will, your men have been fed and townspeople are offering them residence in their huts. It is the best we can do on such short notice."