Keevan’s grin had her grinning back. How many times had she seen him relaxed and smiling like this?
Not nearly enough.
“You’re rather happy today.” Addie reached up and tugged on his arm.
“You’re here. We’re safe.” Keevan wrapped his arms around her, leaning his chin on her head. “Of course I’m happy.”
The door rattled, and a whole herd of feet pounded inside. Keevan’s sigh whispered through her hair before he straightened.
Yes, they would fill Nalgar with happiness. So much happiness the shadows and ghosts wouldn’t stand a chance and the stones of this castle would nearly burst trying to contain it.
Keevan kept his pace measured as he strode down the long aisle in the Great Hall, benches on either side filled with soldiers and nobles. All of the attendees were standing, bowing and curtseying as Keevan and Addie passed.
At the far end of the Hall, an organist pounded away at a swelling melody while someone, probably her young son or daughter, pumped the bellows in the back room. A few yards in front of the organ, Lord Conree of Surgis and Lord Segon of Uster, voted by the Gathering of Nobles to be their representatives for the occasion, stood between two small tables.
One table, draped in green silk, held Acktar’s crown, a gold band etched with scenes of Acktar’s history and emblazoned with a cross at the center of the forehead. A simpler crown sat next to it for Addie. On the other table, a Bible rested on the silver silk that draped over the other table.
Addie squeezed his arm tighter. He patted her fingers. They could do this. Together.
They halted at the front of the Great Hall, and the music rose into a crescendo. When it ceased, Keevan’s ears still rang and ached all the way down into his jaw.
This was the moment they were supposed to kneel. Keevan turned to Addie and helped her ease onto the floor. Her mouth twitched with a grimace, then a smile, and he had to fight his own smile remembering Addie’s grumbling during their rehearsal the day before. This ceremony, not to mention the billows of Addie’s skirt and the trailing robe, were not designed with eight-month pregnant women in mind.
But as much as she’d grumbled, she was still here. She’d endured two weeks of hard travel to kneel at his side now. Perhaps no one would ever appreciate the kind of queen they had, but he would.
After Keevan knelt next to Addie, Lord Conree picked up the Bible, opened it to the passage Keevan had marked beforehand, and held it out to Keevan. Pressing his right palm to his chest, Keevan rested his left hand on the Bible.
Lord Conree’s tenor rose above the hushed crowd. “Do you, Prince Keevan Eirdon, solemnly swear to perform faithfully your duties as King of Acktar, to defend her borders, provide justice to her citizens, and uphold her laws and regulations to the utmost of your ability, so help you God?”
Keevan swallowed. God had spared him for this moment, but would Keevan be enough? Or would he fail like his father had?
His gaze landed on the verse he’d underlined so many years ago, now barely visible beneath his fingers. By me kings reign, and princes decree justice.
Keevan wasn’t enough. Kings that thought they were enough all by themselves fell into pride and tyranny, like Respen.
But Keevan’s heart was in the hand of his God. And God was enough.
“I do.” He prayed a silent prayer of thanks when his voice remained steady, despite the rasp.
Lord Conree turned to Addie, and she put her left hand on the Bible and her right on her heart like Keevan had.
“Do you, Princess Adelaide Eirdon, solemnly swear to perform faithfully your duties as Queen of Acktar, to stand by her king, provide justice to her citizens, and uphold her laws and regulations to the utmost of your ability, so help you God?”
Addie’s fingers quivered on the Bible. “I do.”
As Lord Conree stepped back and returned the Bible to its table, Lord Segon picked up the large gold crown and raised it above Keevan’s head. “With the power vested in me as the representative of the Gathering of Nobles, I crown you, King Keevan Eirdon of Acktar. May your reign be long, your justice compassionate, and your mercy fair.”
Keevan closed his eyes as the cool metal slid over his head and came to rest against his forehead. The muscles at the back of his neck cramped with its weight.
After nearly five years of exile, he was king of Acktar.
Keevan could never forget what that meant. The blood that had been shed and the lives paid to purchase this crown.
He opened his eyes in time to see Lord Segon repeat his proclamation and slide the second crown onto Addie’s head. Her brown curls puffed and frizzed outward from its confines.
When both Lord Segon and Lord Conree bowed, Keevan clambered to his feet, nearly stumbled on his long, light green robe streaming out behind him, and turned to Addie. Gripping her hands, he hauled her to her feet. Together, they faced the crowd.
To one side, a clerk unrolled a piece of paper. “Lord Segon of Uster.”
Lord Segon knelt in front of Keevan. “On behalf of the town of Uster, I pledge to you my loyalty and service, my king.”
Keevan touched Lord Segon’s shoulder in acknowledgement. When Lord Segon rose, Lord Conree took his place, and they repeated the process.
Two towns done. Almost forty to go.
Keevan tried to pay attention as each lord or lady pledged their loyalty. Lord Philip Creston of Arroway, Lord Doughtry of Calloday, Lady Emilin of Dently…on and on.
Lord Norton of Kilm knelt in front of Keevan and gave his pledge of loyalty without hesitation. Though, there was a gleam to his eyes, a twist to his mouth, that sent a chill into Keevan’s toes. Lord Norton might pledge his loyalty to Keevan, but he’d once pledged loyalty to Keevan’s father, only to join with Respen a few years later.
Lord Alistair’s name was called. He stood and strode down the center aisle, his gait still shaky and his left arm limp in its sling. When he bowed and gave his pledge, Keevan touched his shoulder and whispered, “thank you.”
After everything Lord Alistair had sacrificed and done to win Keevan this crown, those two words were little thanks.
Lord Alistair straightened and gave Keevan one, small nod, as if they were all the thanks Lord Alistair needed.
Lord Beregern of Mountainwood, a gray-haired man about Lord Alistair’s age, knelt and gave his pledge. Another one of Respen’s supporters.
Keevan couldn’t hold that against them. Not when half the nobles pledging their loyalty to him had once betrayed his father to side with Respen. But Keevan would be cautious. Trust would be hard to regain.
“Lady Rennelda Faythe of Stetterly.”
Renna slid to her feet and swept down the aisle, her long blond hair gleaming with the sunshine streaming through the tall, upper windows. When she knelt, her voice remained stronger than Keevan would’ve expected, and, for a moment, he could see some of Uncle Laurence’s steel in her. “On behalf of the town of Stetterly, I pledge to you my loyalty and service, my king.”
Keevan touched her shoulder, and as she turned to go, Keevan found himself reaching out and gripping her shoulders, hearing again Uncle Laurence’s request to send her to safety, Lord Alistair’s pleas for the same.
Yet, Renna had been forced to stay and take the dangers meant for him.
He pitched his rasp low so only she could hear. “Thank you for keeping Acktar’s hope alive for so long.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “No, thank you for being alive. There was a time I feared I’d end up with the crown.”
Keevan released Renna, watching as she returned to her seat. He still didn’t know how he was going to deal with having Renna fall in love with Leith Torren. If they got married, Keevan’s almost-killer would become his cousin.
At least Stetterly was a six-day ride away from Nalgar Castle. Family gatherings wouldn’t happen too often.
Addie squeezed his hand, and Keevan tilted his head enough to share a look and a smile.
The herald cleare
d his throat and bellowed in a voice now scratchy from all the shouting he’d done, “General Uriah Stewart, please step forward.”
Keevan shook himself and smiled as General Stewart stood and strode down the length of the Great Hall. The years had turned General Stewart’s hair gray and lined his face, but he was still the captain that had stood by Keevan during the worst moment of his life.
Many deserved recognition for their actions in the days following Respen’s attack. But Keevan couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather reward than General Stewart.
General Stewart knelt, a wrinkle forming between his eyes.
Keevan rested a hand on his shoulder. “Nearly five years ago, you saved my life and, having done that, you willingly went into exile with me. You stayed by my side, gave me victory, and returned my country to me. For your loyalty and dedication, I name you the lord of Blathe. May you and your descendants rule that town well.”
The reward carried as much of a burden as a gift. Blathe was a rough town, ruled by Respen Felix before being essentially leaderless and abandoned when Respen moved to Nalgar.
But if General Stewart—no, Lord Stewart—could counsel and prod and nudge a reluctant prince into a king, he could handle Blathe.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Lord Stewart’s bow lowered further. “On behalf of the town of Blathe, I pledge to you my loyalty and service.”
And, of all the pledges Keevan had heard that day, this one was the most sincere.
One year. That’s how long Respen had predicted it would take for Keevan to fail and the nation to split in two once again.
That year started now.
Epilogue
One month later…
Keevan rocked his newborn son Duncan in his cradle with a toe and glanced over at Addie. He had to shout to be heard over their son’s wails. “He doesn’t seem to like it.”
“So far, he hasn’t liked anything.” Addie wrinkled her nose and pushed herself onto her elbows to see. “Hand him back to me. See if that helps.”
Keevan eased both hands around Duncan’s small body. So small and delicate. And with such healthy, well-functioning lungs. “Do you think we should fetch the midwife again?”
Addie took Duncan from Keevan and cradled him against her. “She said that as far as she could tell, Duncan was simply angry. Hopefully.” Addie’s forehead puckered as she stroked Duncan’s nearly bald head, the baby’s face red with all his crying.
Keevan didn’t know much about babies, but did they always scream at the top of their lungs for the first hour after they were born? No one, not Addie or Mama or any of Addie’s siblings, had been able to get the newborn Prince Duncan to stop crying.
After a few minutes of talking and soothing, Duncan still hadn’t stopped. Keevan reached for Duncan again. “Here. Let me take him. I know you need to rest.”
Addie passed the baby back to him, and Keevan eased to his feet. If he paced the hallway, maybe Addie could at least get some sleep.
Tucking Duncan against his chest, Keevan strode out the door into the hallway. Moonlight streamed through the windows at the far end and puddled on the floor.
He was halfway down the hall when Duncan finally gave a shudder and lapsed into hiccupping breaths. By the time Keevan reached his door, Duncan’s steady, sleepy breathing wafted against his neck. But as soon as he halted, Duncan stirred.
Looked like pacing was the answer. Keevan strolled down the length of the corridor once again, his son a warm, tiny bundle against his chest and neck.
His son. With tiny little fingers and toes and squinched up eyes and such vulnerability that Keevan’s heart was destroyed and remade and destroyed again every time he looked at him.
Failing the country would be bad enough, but failing his son? Keevan couldn’t let himself think it.
Instead, he cradled his son and paced the corridor long into the night.
Addie was alive. Duncan was healthy. Keevan had a family.
And it was all more than enough.
Map of Acktar
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you for taking the time to read this novella. Even if it isn’t about Leith and Renna, I hope you still loved the characters and connected with their struggles.
Thank you especially to those who submitted names for Defy. I didn’t use your names then, but I kept them and used them for this book instead. Thank you to Kim Moss for the name Arlo, Paul Ophoff for Brennan, which I changed to Brennen. Molly M. for the name Conree, Gabriela Paige for Kester and Oran, and Mandy Steinberger for Theodor and Thadius.
A special thank you to my brother Andy for the names Frank and Patrick.
Thanks to my family and friends for understanding when I disappeared during the month of November to finish this novella and write the accompanying short stories.
A big hug for all my author friends, especially Jaye who helped encourage me when I ran stuck on how to present the themes in this book, Nadine for asking for this novella during her edit of Defy, and Katie and Ashley for word wars early in NaNo when I wrote most of the ending of this novella. All of you guys are the absolute best!
To Sierra, for your last minute critique of Destroy that helped give it that final polish!
Thanks Mindy Bergman for proofreading Destroy on short notice.
Thank you also to a few of my early readers who also found a few missing words and typos.
But most of all, thanks to my Heavenly Father is always is and shall be enough.
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Don’t Miss the Beginning of the Saga:
THE BLADES OF ACKTAR
BOOK ONE
DARE
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Books by Tricia Mingerink
The Blades of Acktar
Dare
Deny
Dare
THE BLADES OF ACKTAR
BOOK FOUR
DELIVER
Coming Spring 2017
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tricia Mingerink is a twenty-something, book-loving, horse-riding country girl. She lives in Michigan with her family and their pack of pets. When she isn't writing, she can be found pursuing backwoods adventures across the country.
To learn more about Tricia Mingerink and get a behind-the-scenes peek at her books, visit triciamingerink.com.
Destroy: (The Blades of Acktar 3.5) Page 16
