The thundering footsteps were caused by the errand boy many of them used. Arrago couldn’t remember his name. Hadly? Haydon? Something like that. The boy skidded to a halt, dropping the messenger pouch he’d been holding. “Majesty!”
Arrago regretted shouting the moment he realized he was shouting at one of the servants. He never wanted to be that kind of person, let alone that kind of king. The servants had a huge job running the palace, and they were the reason he lived in both comfortable and relative safety. Many of them had been slaves at one point in their lives, and most had seen horrible events during the war. Many of them had served under his predecessor, and had been exposed to endless abuse.
He sighed and said, in a much gentler voice, “Take care in the hallways. You might trip or bump into someone. You wouldn’t want to be the person who knocks over Lord Rayner, now, would you?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “No, Majesty. Not at all. Miss Miriam, see, said this letter had to go to the couriers right quick, but I think she would be doubly mad if I knocked Lord Rayner down!”
Arrago forced a smile. It was weary and didn’t have much warmth behind it, but he tried all the same. “Go along, now, but be careful.”
“Yes, Majesty,” the boy said, bowing low from the waist. He scurried off at the fastest walk his gawky legs could handle.
Arrago took a breath to calm himself. He needed to get some sleep soon or he was going to turn into Bethany. He glanced at Edmund and saw he had a scroll in his hand. “What’s that?”
Edmund pushed himself up from the chair before handing over the rolled paper. “I need you to sign this.”
Arrago didn’t speak as he untied the paper, dropping the ribbon on the chair Edmund had vacated. He unraveled it and read. He looked up sharply at Edmund, his heart thudding. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes,” was all Edmund had to say.
“She’s Elorian.”
“I know, Arrago.”
Arrago re-read Edmund’s last will and testament. Surely, he was reading it wrong. Edmund left everything legally possible...to Opal. With the death of several members of his family, including his own father, Edmund had inherited several lesser titles and estates. Then, Arrago had made him chancellor, elevated him to the peerage, and given him extensive lands on top of everything else. He was leaving it all to Opal, even the titles. The property. Clothing, and jewelry. Opal wouldn’t just be wealthy; she’d become one of the richest women in the nation.
There were a few lines about a cottage estate for Amber that came with a small parcel of land and an endowment large enough for her to live her days in comfort, wanting for nothing. There were some family trinkets and a sword for Henry, along with a curious line about a letter in Castle Gree’s vault when Henry came of age.
Arrago rolled the paper back up and said, in as careful of a tone as his frayed nerves could handle, “Women can’t inherit property.”
“They can with permission from the king. After all, the Dowager’s entire female line can inherit property. I’m only asking for one little girl.”
“That’s because her ancestor died saving a king,” Arrago shot back. He pressed down the rising irritation in his voice and tried again. “Why are you giving this to me now? It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait?”
“I need the king’s signature. Otherwise I would have just asked Rayner or Stanley.”
“Are you planning...” Arrago frowned at the thought, but he needed to say it all the same. “Are you...is there something you need to tell me?”
Edmund rolled his eyes. “I am not planning to kill myself, if that is your question. I wrote that some time ago. I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask you.”
The irritation crept back into Arrago’s voice. “So you decide tonight would be the best time to ask?”
“I want to make sure she will never want for anything.”
Arrago handed the will back, but Edmund refused to take it. “This could end me.”
“What if I promise to wait for you to die first?”
“That’s not funny,” Arrago snapped back at him. “Let’s talk about it when I get back from Orchard Park.”
A bitter sound escaped Edmund. “Of course. Majesty.”
Arrago hated that his friends threw his title back at him every time he stood up for himself. They never did it to Bethany or Jovan or Kiner. Or the Dowager, for that matter. No, just him. Always just him. It stirred the growing irritation inside him.
“Just let me think on it.”
Edmund swung his arms out to the side and made an exaggerated bow. “Of course, Majesty. Of course. You just need to think it through. Who cares about everything I’ve ever done for you. No! Of course not because his gracious Majesty has to think about it.”
“Oh, grow up.” Arrago didn’t even care if that was going to upset Edmund. He’d been pushing Arrago’s limits lately and he was tired of it, quite frankly.
They were friends, yes, but they were also king and subject. Sometimes, Arrago couldn’t be both without jeopardizing everyone’s welfare. Daniel had done nothing but fill appointments and positions with his friends. He’d done nothing to help the poor in Taftlin, nor to build a better nation. Arrago promised to never do that and he wanted to hold to that. He could not just make exceptions for his friends. Why couldn’t Edmund see that?
“After everything I’ve lost for you...” Edmund didn’t finish the statement. He lowered his head and Arrago clearly saw his clenched fist. “I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend,” Arrago said harshly. “Sometimes, being a friend means saying no.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Edmund spat. “You didn’t even tell me about your new special powers, for Apexia’s sake! But suddenly, we’re friends again.”
“Keep your fucking voice down,” Arrago shouted at him, the irony of his own volume lost on him now. The door was still wide open and, with all of the movement of servants, anyone could have heard.
“Go fuck yourself,” Edmund shouted and stormed out of the room, leaving Arrago still holding the scroll in his hand.
Arrago rushed out of the room after him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Edmund, wait.”
Edmund swung. Arrago was able to step out of his reach easily, as Edmund was still iffy using his left hand.
“What is wrong with you?” Arrago shout-whispered. He was trying to keep his temper in check, but the man who pretended to be his friend just swung at him.
Hot rage filled Edmund’s eyes. His face reddened as he screamed at the top of his lungs, “Look at me! This is all because of you and you won’t even sign a damn piece of paper!”
Arrago stared at his good eye, the one not covered in a patch. He had looked at Edmund plenty of times, and he knew his choices to involve Edmund in the civil war had led here. But Edmund was a grown man and had made the decision to fight alongside Arrago. He did not have to. He could have joined Daniel. He could have gone into exile and left Taftlin completely if he wished. He stayed. Some of this was on him.
“I never forced you to fight, and I will not be bullied into doing whatever you want out of pity.” Arrago barely recognized the coldness in his voice. “You aren’t the only man to come back in pieces.”
Edmund swung again, only this time Arrago was unprepared. He managed to turn at the last second, but Edmund’s fist landed hard against his jaw. His teeth rattled and his mouth filled with blood; he’d bitten his tongue in the process.
Kiner rushed down the corridor. He grabbed Edmund’s forearm, just as the man raised for another hit, and said, very coldly, “Enough.”
“Let me go, Kiner!” Edmund bucked against Kiner’s grip, but he was no match for the large knight.
“What is going on?” Amber said in as hushed of a voice as possible, while still being heard in the corridor. She lightly padded down the carpet. “I heard you shouting all the way down the corridor.”
“I’ll shout wherever I want to,” Edmund
said harshly, still pulling against Kiner’s tight grip.
Amber frantically looked about the corridor. “The servants can hear.”
“I don’t care about the fucking servants!” Edmund shouted. “Kiner, Apexia as my witness, let me go or I swear I’ll kill you.”
Kiner did not reply, but he didn’t loosen his grip, either.
“For the love of Apexia, Edmund. Stop overreacting,” Arrago snarled.
“Then sign it!” Edmund shouted.
“Why? So you can go jump off the battlements?” Arrago stepped close enough to get into Edmund’s face and snarled, “If you do that, I’ll let her starve in the streets. You hear me? I’ll let her starve.”
Kiner grabbed Edmund and pulled him back, stopping him from lunging at Arrago. “Edmund! Be calm!”
“For pity’s sake!” Amber exclaimed. “What is this about?”
Edmund spat at Arrago’s feet. Then he said, “Let me go, Kiner.”
“Not if you’re going to hit him again.”
“You hit him?” Amber demanded. Then, to Arrago, she asked, “What did you do?”
“This none of your business, Amber. Stay out of it,” Arrago said, not even bothering to control the growl in his voice.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that!” Edmund shouted.
“Enough!” Kiner shouted. “For the love of Apexia, man! Enough!”
“What is going on?” Amber demanded.
Edmund glared at Arrago for several heartbeats before he said, “Let me go. I’m done with him.”
Kiner was prepared for the push Edmund gave him after he’d been free. He was as still as a statue when the much shorter Edmund stumbled trying to shoulder past the Elorian.
Amber joined the others in watching Edmund storm off down the corridor. “What did you do?”
“Mind your own business,” Arrago snapped at Amber. He stormed back into his study and slammed the door.
He immediately regretted his comment about letting Opal starve in the streets.
Chapter 5
ARRAGO WORKED IN HIS study for a couple hours until he was certain Amber had dragged Edmund to his bed and there was no chance of encountering either of them in the busy corridors. There was never not work for him to do, especially since Daniel had done no work since inheriting his father’s throne. As it was, there was doubt Daniel had ever done a day’s work in his life.
A smile that was more smug satisfaction than mirth flickered across his face. He would never forget the time Daniel called Bethany a whore all those years ago at the Temple of Tranquil Mercies and she kicked him out. None of the initiates thought Bethany would do it. Most of them didn’t even know she had the authority to do it. But that was his Bethany. She made her own authority and everyone was too afraid to stop her.
Arrago pulled his cloak over his shoulders. His fire had died out, and he didn’t want to bother a servant. He’d learned the hard way that lighting his own fires caused Miriam significant anguish. His housekeeper was proud of the work her maids did, and she took every occurrence of Arrago’s independence as a personal slight against her. So, he took Stanley’s advice from months ago: let the servants do their jobs, Majesty.
Arrago closed his study’s door behind him and he made his way through the busy hallways up to the comfort of his bed and his wife.
That thought brought a smile full of joy to his face. He still basked in the glory of having her in his life, knowing that she had finally made her choice—and her choice was him. When he’d gone to the Temple of Tranquil Mercies a handful of years prior, he had no expectation of falling in love with someone like Bethany, let alone one day marrying her. That outcome had been surprising enough, without even throwing in how he’d also become a king in the process.
Truthfully, marrying Bethany was more of a surprise than becoming monarch. His murder of the king’s men had put him on the path of rebellion, bringing a long-simmering pot to boil. Bethany was...completely different. He had no idea what he had done to earn her trust or love, but he hoped he’d always be worthy of it.
He arrived at what was technically his bedchamber. They had separate rooms, though they’d been sleeping in his bed since her arrival. Her bedroom had been turned into a mini armoury and boot storage. How could one woman own so many pairs of boots? As far as he was aware, she’d only arrived with two trunks. Did she have a secret stash somewhere in the capital?
He eased open the door, in case Bethany has passed out on the sofa again. She never said anything to him about it, but he knew she struggled at times with sleeping in a bed. He’d heard stories from the servants at Castle Gree, during the war, where they were concerned about Lady Bethany’s refusal to sleep in a bed. He’d brought it up with Jovan once, who told him to mind his own business. Kiner’s answer was politer, but amounted to the same: let Bethany work out her own sleeping habits.
She wasn’t asleep. Instead, she was sitting up, reading one of his books by candlelight. There was no smile when she looked up from the book, and a knot formed in his guts.
“You heard.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Most of the palace heard.” Bethany snapped the book shut. “So, who are you going to let starve in the streets?”
Arrago groaned. He did not want to relieve the fight with Edmund. He pulled off his cloak, followed by his dressing robe. He dropped both on a nearby chair and then collapsed into the chair with a weary sigh. He still had the stupid scroll from Edmund in his pocket.
“So?”
Bethany wasn’t going to let it go, he knew her well enough to know that. He was exhausted, body weary, and he’d only just begun to settle back from the recent attack on the palace. Now Bethany wanted him to go running about the continent again, and...
He let out a weary sigh. “Opal.”
Bethany raised one eyebrow. “You threatened to let Allric’s little girl starve?”
“No. Yes. It’s complicated. I didn’t mean it.” When Bethany made no attempt to excuse him from the conversation, he said, “Fine. He wanted me to sign his will. The will where he leaves everything to Opal.”
“That’s sweet,” Bethany said in a neutral tone.
“It’s stupid,” Arrago said. “She’s a girl, for one thing. She can’t inherit property without my direct approval, and there are almost no women in Taftlin to ever inherit because of that rule. Then, there’s the problem with her being...”
“Elorian,” Bethany finished. Her voice had taken a low, dangerous tone. He knew that one well.
“I mean no offense by this, Bethany. You know that I love you, but...”
“But this is a nation of humans, and pointed-eared women inheriting land will get your head chopped off by cowards.”
Oh, he did not like her tone now. He could handle Bethany yelling. She yelled at everything. It was her default volume. This tight-lipped Bethany was the one he long knew to fear. This was the Bethany that invaded nations and slaughtered her foes. He wasn’t used to that voice being directed him, and he did not like it.
“Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m exhausted and I’m cranky.”
Bethany acted like she didn’t hear him. “Why did you tell your best friend that you would let his daughter starve in the streets?”
“She’s not his daughter,” Arrago snapped. “I thought you, of all people, wouldn’t be for this Edmund and Opal thing. Why does everyone keep pretending Opal is his daughter?”
Bethany’s face hardened. “Because you took his son.”
“Oh, that’s low, even for you.”
“The truth stings, Arrago.”
Arrago rubbed his forehead. A headache was growing behind his eyes. “I wouldn’t ever turn Opal out. Nor Amber. Nor anyone else.”
“Then why say it?”
“I’m tired! You get to yell at people for breathing loud. Why can’t I lose my temper, too?”
“It’s bluster when I do it,” Bethany said. “You’re a king now.”
“You’re a que
en. Maybe you shouldn’t yell either.”
She glared at him before asking, “What is really going on here?”
He really wanted to go to bed, but he also knew Bethany wasn’t going to let this go unless he answered her. “Edmund is angry at me for not telling him about...Apexia. And I’m worried that he’s planning something...permanent.”
That softened her features a shade. “It isn’t uncommon for soldiers to take their own lives.”
Arrago scoffed. How could she be cavalier? She would move mountains to stop one of her friends from jumping off the battlements. Why couldn’t he?
“Excuse me for caring about my friend.” He rubbed his eyes. He really needed some sleep. “It’s been over a year since he lost his hand. I would have thought he’d have gotten, well, not over it, but...”
“Over it,” Bethany repeated back. “You thought he’d be over it by now. Back to his normal self. Arrago, he’s never going to that way again. A lot of his old self will come back, but he’s a different man now.”
“I know, and I’m trying to be kind, but...”
“He doesn’t need you to be kind. He needs you to be his friend and his king,” Bethany said sharply. “Let him heal. You are not doing him any favours by threatening him or pitying him. Put him to work. Let him feel useful. All I’ve seen you do is give him easy paperwork. That is driving Edmund insane.”
“What do you know?” Arrago snarled. “You have all your limbs. I’m sorry, Bethany. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Bethany stood up. She was a hair taller than he was, but she could stare down a mythical monster if she set her mind to it. “No, you shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I’m tired. I’ll...fix this in the morning.”
Bethany turned to walk to the door that separated their bedrooms. He frowned at her, but didn’t say anything. She stopped with the door opened and said, “It’s time to stop treating Edmund like he’s an egg under your boot and treat him like you always did. No, it won’t be the same anymore, but you aren’t the same man, either, Arrago.”
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