The Heir (Kelderan Runic Warriors #3)

by Jessie Donovan

  Azalyn stood. “No, don’t. But my concerns are well founded. After all, you said you didn’t ask for any of this.”

  Her daughter looked to the side. “I did say that, but I changed my mind and decided to stay. Just for a short while, mind you. I have no desire to be a princess. It’s bad enough people keep saying ‘your highness’ to me.”

  She smiled. “Better than them trying to figure out exactly what to call me. Keltor and I haven’t married yet, after all.” Silence fell. Given all that had happened recently, she decided to ask what she was thinking. “Why did you agree to come here, Toralyn?”

  Toralyn shrugged. “Like most children who find out that they are adopted, I have questions. I figured I should ask them while I have the chance.”

  Because I don’t want to stay on Keldera, was left unsaid.

  Azalyn would take what time she could with her daughter. “Then ask me whatever you wish.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Kelzal sit in the corner, take out a device, and fiddle with it.

  However, when Toralyn took a few steps closer to Keltor’s bed, Azalyn zeroed in her attention on her daughter.

  Waiting for her to speak, Azalyn took the time to memorize the curve of Toralyn’s nose, the slight wave of her golden hair, and the placement of her daughter’s markings. If she never agreed to sit for a portrait, then this could be the only chance Azalyn had to study the daughter she’d never known as a child.

  She had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually, Toralyn spoke while never moving her gaze from Keltor. “Kelzal said you didn’t know of my existence. Is that true?”

  “Yes. I was unconscious during the birth and didn’t know I carried twins. Kelzal is all they showed to me when I woke up.”

  What she wouldn’t give to go back and hold both babies in her arms. Even if it had only been the once, it would’ve made the world of difference to Azalyn and might help alleviate some of the hurt and betrayal at the midwife’s actions. No, make that Ulrick Sulani’s actions; she had undoubtedly worked under his orders.

  Thinking of Ulrick only reminded Azalyn of yet another reason Keltor needed to regain consciousness—so he could use his diplomatic skill to keep the merchant an ally.

  “Why didn’t you want us?” Toralyn asked softly.

  “It wasn’t a matter of want. I was a seventeen-year-old unmarried female, carrying the children of the crown prince. To keep you would’ve put you in danger. Well, or so I thought. I guess Ulrick’s power plays ended up doing the trick, even if it wasn’t straight away.”

  Toralyn’s gaze met hers, anger flashing. “That’s not an answer. If you had truly loved us, you would’ve found a way to keep us.”

  She gave a sad smile. “You have no reason to believe me, but giving up my babies was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Toralyn. You were the last pieces I had of the male I loved. Not keeping you threw me into a year-long depression. Even if I only believed I had lost one baby, it was enough. I tried to think of what I could do, but in the end, I was a powerless female who needed the protection of my adopted Sulani family to survive. Because if I had tried to steal you away, someone would’ve found me eventually, since I had no resources or people to protect me. I decided that watching Kelzal from afar was better than never seeing him ever again.” She paused, and reached out a hand, but stopped shy of touching Toralyn’s arm. “Not to mention King Kastor probably would’ve banished me, or worse, if he discovered the full truth. Until the laws change, many unmarried females end up with the same choices as I had—giving up their children for adoption, or risk the father stealing away the children and ruining your reputation, to the point someone could end up living on the streets with few options beyond selling their bodies or even their freedom.”

  Toralyn studied her face for at least a minute before she finally replied, “I have a mother, you know.”

  She resisted flinching. “I know.”

  “And no one can replace her.”

  Ignoring the twisting in her heart, she nodded. “Of course.”

  Toralyn’s gaze moved back to Keltor’s face. “I’m not saying that I’ll stay on Keldera forever, but until I have all my questions answered, I’d like to see you and the king sometimes.”

  She did take Toralyn’s hand. When her daughter didn’t pull away, hope bloomed in Azalyn’s chest.

  After a few minutes, Toralyn tugged her hand out of her grasp, walked a few paces away, and turned to face her. “I have two more conditions for staying.”

  Azalyn’s brows drew together. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “The first is that I want my mother brought here as soon as possible. And second, I want to be kept informed of what’s happening. Trying to shield me and Kelzal from pain only ended up creating this mess. We’re no longer children, and we deserve honesty.”

  With Toralyn’s chin thrust into the air and confidence in her gaze, Azalyn could easily see Toralyn as queen one day.

  Not that it was possible at the moment.

  As she debated how to respond to Toralyn’s request since she didn’t like speaking for Keltor, the male in question grunted. Everything else faded away as she moved closer and placed a hand on his cheek. “You’re awake.”

  ~~~

  At the voices talking around him, Keltor blinked his eyes open. He was inside a hospital room of some sort, machines whirring, with tubes connected to his body.

  It took him a few seconds to focus on the faces above him, his mind hazy from some sort of drug. Azalyn’s beautiful face was frowning at another lavender-skinned female—their daughter.

  His gaze drifted to the other side of the room, where Kelzal sat assembling some device in his hands.

  He attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain exploded throughout his body and he grunted. Azalyn’s gaze shot straight to his. In the next instant, she placed her warm hand against his cheek. “You’re awake.”

  Keltor’s voice was deeper than normal when he stated, “Yes, zyla. Now, tell me what happened.”

  Azalyn hesitated, and Kelzal’s voice filled the space. “We’re at the retreat complex just outside Cillaren. Your lower body was severely damaged by debris. They saved your leg, but it will always be stiff and you will need a cane.”

  For once, he was grateful for his son’s straightforward manner.

  The city of Cillaren nudged his mind, but he couldn’t remember why the place was important.

  Glancing down, he saw a series of rods and braces surround his left leg.

  “But all that matters is that you’re alive, zylar,” Azalyn murmured.

  He met his female’s gaze. “And the attackers?”

  “The unknown spaceship self-destructed before the army could capture it,” she answered. “They’re analyzing what they can of the debris, but it’ll take some time.”

  “And the antimonarchists?” he queried.

  “The army has captured everyone who was attacking the palace, but also quite a few more who had been en route.”

  She paused, and slowly he moved his hand to cover hers. “Tell me, love.”

  “The palace was mostly damaged or destroyed. General Morvel strongly suggests abandoning it.”

  Kelzal’s voice rang out. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  Keltor shifted his gaze, but Kelzal was already coming toward him with a notescreen in hand. Before Keltor could ask, Kelzal turned the screen toward him.

  It was playing a video. The footage was of people slowly passing debris down a line outside the palace, until the last person on the human chain tossed it into an incinerator shuttle. The scene switched to one of builders delivering replacement materials to a confused-looking guard, and the builders merely leaving the materials and walking away. Not far from every person shown were signs saying, “We will help you rebuild” and “We stand with King Keltor.”

  Kelzal spoke again. “The day after the attack, citizens started showing up at the palace, offering their help. At first, the general tried to turn th
em away. But eventually, someone convinced him to let them help.”

  “Who?”

  “Me,” Azalyn stated. She smiled. “There are some people who hate you, but there are many more who love or at least admire you, Keltor. And even if you dismiss yourself as being too new, they respected your father and his role in winning the Brevkan war. I thought it wise to let them show their support. Between their public displays and the arrest of hundreds of antimonarchists, it should at least hold off a war or rebellion. Well, for the foreseeable future at any rate.”

  And to think he’d given up decades with this wonderful female. “You are amazing, Azalyn soon to be tro el Vallen.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and it was as if the years melted away and he was with her over two decades ago.

  As much as he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, he was keenly aware of his two children in the room. One of whom shouldn’t have been there; Xerlig must’ve used his vague order to bring her here.

  He looked at Toralyn. “Why are you here?”

  “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me,” she drawled. Azalyn opened her mouth, but Toralyn beat her to it. “Xerlig and Ervan brought me.”

  He almost smiled. “It’s obvious someone brought you. But why? You were on an assignment, the last I heard.”

  She shrugged. “Xerlig pulled me out, something about my safety.”

  Keltor sensed there was more to the story than that. But before he could ask about Xerla, Kelzal grunted and said, “She didn’t want to attack the palace when the antimonarchists asked her to. Xerlig took her to a safe house, but eventually realized she’d be safer here. Or, perhaps they realized she wanted to be here.”

  “Kelzal!” Toralyn hissed.

  The younger male shrugged. “It’s the truth. Why you pretend to hate them, I will never understand.”

  Keltor had no idea what had transpired, but it seemed Kelzal was now on his side.

  Azalyn jumped in before the siblings could bicker further. “By the way, your father is safe here as well, Keltor. Although it will take some time for him to recover whatever strength he has left.”

  His father. That was why Cillaren was important—one of his half siblings lived at the retreat complex. “I need to see him. With the aid of a hover chair, maybe the doctor will allow me to do it later today.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that. The doctor must sign off on you leaving this room.”

  When she hesitated, Keltor said softly, “Tell me whatever it is, Aza.”

  She blew out a breath. “We’re at the retreat complex I mentioned, the one owned by Jalarra. Since security details have worked here before, it was the logical choice to temporarily stay here for your recovery.”

  Toralyn jumped in. “Who is Jalarra?”

  Kelzal answered, “Grandfather’s paramour and the mother of two of our aunts and one uncle.”

  “Wait, what?” Toralyn demanded.

  Azalyn quickly explained the situation and then looked back to Keltor before Toralyn could ask further inquiries. “The problem is with your half sister, Kasarra. She’s anxious to meet you and is giving the guards a headache with her attempts to sneak into this room.”

  “She sounds like my kind of person. Too bad she’s so young,” Toralyn stated.

  Keltor switched his gaze to his grown daughter. “You’ve just volunteered yourself to tell your aunt that I’ll see her as soon as I have a little more strength.”

  Toralyn scrunched her nose. “She’s only sixteen. I’m not about to call her my aunt.”

  “I didn’t say you had to,” Keltor said. “But nevertheless, you need a new assignment. Kasarra may just end up being it.”

  Toralyn tilted her head. “Only if I have the power to order her around.”

  Keltor smiled. “Power must be dealt out sparingly. Xerlig and Ervan will oversee your assignment.” She huffed, and he quickly added, “We can talk more once you return, as I sense you have questions. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

  The female looked to the side, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll return shortly,” she murmured before racing out of the room.

  Azalyn focused back on him. “I’m not sure what happened, but as soon as she walked in here right before you woke up, she’s tried making an effort. She also seems okay being stuck here, rather than on a ship to Jasvar.”

  Kelzal chimed in. “Because she’s even more curious than I am about you two.”

  Glancing to his son, Keltor said, “While I appreciate your honesty, sometimes it is better to keep the secrets of others for a short while. I’m sure Toralyn told you those things in confidence.”

  His son put aside the device in his hands. “Perhaps. But all three of you dance around the truth. I plan to speed up the process.”

  “I can’t wait to see what that entails,” he muttered.

  Azalyn placed her other hand on Keltor’s face, garnering his attention. “Are you sure you’re all right? Tell me now if you’re in pain so I can call the doctor.”

  He slowly raised a hand to cover one of hers, the slight twinge in his shoulder worth it to touch her warm skin. “At the moment, it’s tolerable. Although a kiss would make me feel much better.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure it would.” Lowering her head, she whispered so low only Keltor should hear. “Just as I imagine me being naked would cause you to jump up, fully cured, and be able to dance me off my feet.”

  He laughed, but it quickly turned into a groan. “Laughing hurts too much, zyla.”

  Pressing her lips to his, she lingered a long moment before pulling away. “I wish I could do more, but there are many people waiting for your orders. Kelzal is officially the heir, but without a formal document and announcement, some are leery of taking orders from him. The quicker you recover, the better. That means rest.”

  He glanced at his son. “Regardless if they’re hesitant, you are the crown prince. You must act as if they must take notice of you.”

  Kelzal interjected, “They think me odd. Warriors and I have never gotten along all that well.”

  He was saved from replying by the door opening and the royal doctor waltzing in. The doctor fixed Azalyn with a look. “Remember our deal.”

  Keltor frowned. “What deal?”

  “He keeps a secret if I allow him to examine you when needed.”

  “What secret?”

  Azalyn shook her head. “Not now. I’ll tell you later.”

  Since Kelzal remained quiet, Keltor suspected his son didn’t know what it was, either.

  After kissing him gently, Azalyn moved toward the door. “I’ll be back the second he’s done, zylar. Even if you’re asleep, I’ll wait by your side.” She looked at their son. “Come, Kelzal. You can help me with those council matters we discussed.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  As his bride gave one last loving look, they exited the room.

  The doctor began his examination, but Keltor barely paid attention to the pokes, prods, and short bursts of pain. There was much for him to do with regard to securing Keldera, but all he could think about was the secret and the happiness dancing in Azalyn’s eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was late the next day before Azalyn was with Keltor when he was both alone and awake.

  The sound of the door closing echoed in the room. Facing her male, she took his hand and was content to register his warm weight in hers.

  Keltor squeezed and she met his eyes. “What is it, zyla? Tell me.”

  “I—” What should be easy to say was proving to be harder than she’d imagined.

  But as she started into Keltor’s dark brown eyes, she found the courage to blurt out her secret, “I’m pregnant.”

  Happiness flared in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yes.”

  He brought her hand to his lip and kissed her. “Now tell me why you aren’t happier about this.”

  Of course he would be able to read her. She si
ghed. “It’s silly, really. It’s just that things are going so well with Kelzal, and now with Toralyn making an effort…I don’t want to destroy the progress we’ve all made.”

  “While we work on building relationships and earning trusts, this can remain our secret for now.”

  Her eyes widened. “How, exactly? The doctor already knows, and I suspect it won’t be long before others suspect it, too, especially if I get as ill as when I carried our other two children. It’s partly why I was secluded in the middle of nowhere with my new Sulani aunt.”

  “Ill?” Keltor echoed.

  Scrunching her nose, she answered, “Let’s just say that unlike most females, I lost weight rather than gained it.”

  Concern filled his gaze. “Should you even be up and about? Let alone spending so many hours working with the council? And before you ask, Farren informed me of your long hours.”

  “I’m going to have to have a word with him,” she growled.

  “Feel free. But I won’t allow you to change the subject. Tell me what you need Azalyn, and I’ll do what I can, even if it means relying on others to help me until I can get out of this bed again.”

  “I’m fine for now, truly. But as much as I want to have another child with you and look forward to watching our child grow up, I don’t want the other two to think I want them any less.”

  Keltor whispered, “Lay next to me.”

  Careful to stretch out against the side opposite his injured leg, she rested her head on his chest. The second his arm wrapped around her, she felt safe and warm.

  No matter where she was, Keltor would always be her home.

  As he traced her arm with his forefinger, some of the tension eased from her body. His voice rumbled in her ear. “You’re tired, stressed, and probably not eating enough. And I know you’re worried about Kelzal and Toralyn. But if we pace ourselves and share the news at the right moment, I have faith that they will feel joy and celebrate with us.”

  “Kelzal, perhaps, if it’s a male.”

  “By all accounts, he’s been slowly coming into the role. Not to mention a certain talented female has been helping him learn how things function and how to handle council meetings.”