Island in the Forest (Shrouded Thrones Book 1)

by Jeanne Hardt

  Olivia leaned close to Sebastian. “What do you suppose is wrong with Orman? Most of Padrida is celebrating.”

  “I will ask him.” Sebastian arose and walked toward him. Olivia decided to follow.

  Orman lifted his head, saw Sebastian, then frowned and turned away. Not good.

  Sebastian had gained great respect for Orman after his witness to the people in regard to Donovan and Dane. Olivia thought his respect was reciprocated. Even though she believed Orman had wished her to name him as suitor, everyone she had encountered in Padrida had accepted Sebastian as such. Perhaps Orman’s feelings for her had not changed.

  “Good afternoon, Orman,” Sebastian said. The cheer in his voice could melt butter, but Orman remained dour.

  “What is good about it?” He crossed his arms and fully put his back to them.

  “Have I offended you somehow?” Sebastian persisted.

  Orman whipped around and pointed at the row of women lining the wall. “Do you see them? Every eligible woman is there hoping to find favor with a Basilian. Where does that leave me?”

  Olivia covered her mouth to hide a grin. His concern was justifiable. No wonder he had acted ill toward Sebastian—the man who had brought them here.

  Sebastian laid a hand on Orman’s shoulder. “Do you think Basilia is populated by men alone?”

  Orman’s lip curled, then he shook his head.

  “Our women are plentiful. Many are your age. You will have no difficulty obtaining a bride when you become old enough to marry. By your eighteenth year, you will not lack the attention of women.”

  “Plenty?” Orman finally smiled. “By plenty, how many do you mean?”

  “Hundreds.”

  Orman shook his fists in the air and let out a yelp. “Thank you, Your Highness!” He ran from the courtyard a changed man.

  Olivia released her laugh. “He is probably on his way to tell his young friends. I wonder if they shall all wish to leave?”

  “I know not, but I encountered Daisy this morning while you were dressing. She has no intention of leaving Padrida.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “She was crying. She thought everyone would be made to leave. She told me she loves Padrida and wants to stay. So, I assured her no one will be forced to leave and it is her parents’ choice. But, one day, when she is old enough, she may choose.”

  “She cares for you. Were you aware?”

  He grinned. “Yes. I suspected it when she stroked my beard in the keep and seemed to find comfort in the act. Our dire situation did not lead me to comment. Besides, she is a child. If touching my beard eased her discomfort, then I see no harm in awarding her that pleasure.”

  Olivia fingered his beard. “I am quite familiar with the delight.” She leaned in and took the liberty to kiss him.

  “I shall never shave.” He stole another kiss. One she willingly gave.

  Her love for him had abundantly grown. No longer could she imagine a life without him, which intensified her fear of rejection. She had been given no guarantees his parents would allow them to wed. And if they declined her, what would her people think of them? Could it lead to ill feelings and possibly another war?

  “Sebastian.” She grasped his hand. “I must take leave of you. I feel compelled to speak with my mother. Though she appears gay of late, I fear she is hiding her feelings. No woman could so easily dismiss her grief over the loss of a lover.”

  “One day, I wish to know their story. I find it perplexing to say the least.”

  “And you shall. As soon as we are wed.”

  “See to her. I shall go to the wall and observe their progress, then come to you at the evening meal.” He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face, then kissed her farewell. He smiled before turning to leave.

  As well as he had come to know her, did he feel her apprehension? She sensed no worry from him regarding their marriage. He had expressed his confidence in her ability to win the affections of his parents. So why did her mind not rest on this issue?

  Oddly, she found the idea of setting her thoughts on her mother’s troubles rather than her own, refreshing.

  She approached her mother’s door. “Good afternoon, Gerard.” He dutifully stood watch.

  The moment she spoke, his cheeks flushed red. “Your Highness.” He dipped his head.

  She prayed he would someday overcome his embarrassment. “Is my mother within?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” He cleared his throat and pulled his shoulders back. “You may be pleased to know, I have asked the Lady Margaret for her hand.”

  Olivia held her hands to her bosom. “And what was her answer?”

  “She will have me.” He beamed like a blazing fire.

  “And the queen approved?”

  His head rapidly bobbed. “She intends to retain Lady Eloise, but is releasing Lady Margaret from her service.”

  Relief flooded over Olivia, and she allowed herself to smile. She had feared her mother might object. “I am delighted for you. Will you stay in Padrida?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. We know no other home and do not wish to leave.”

  Olivia felt compelled to hug him, but it was inappropriate to behave in such a way toward a sentry. So, she left him with another smile.

  For her parents’ sake, she prayed many Padridans would remain, or perhaps some Basilians would choose to live here. Otherwise, the kingdom would fall. There had never been so much uncertainty in Padrida.

  Surprisingly, Olivia found her mother alone. She stood at the window gazing to the grounds below. Her fingers rested against her lips, and her body seemed deflated.

  The baker’s cottage.

  “Mother?”

  She turned her head and instantly stood straight. “Olivia.” Her demeanor transformed into something brighter as she skirted across the floor and took Olivia’s hands. “I was not expecting you. Why are you not with Sebastian?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “Why? He is far more engaging than your mother.”

  Olivia glanced toward the bed which had been stripped of its linens. “Is Lady Eloise laundering your bedding?”

  “No. I have decided to return to your father’s chamber.”

  Olivia wanted to tell her how much this news pleased her, but held back. “Father said you chose to sleep apart because he snores. Has that been rectified?”

  Her mother returned to the window. She perched on the sill and stared toward the sky. “You know that was not the reason.” She faced Olivia. “My dear, I am trying as best I can to accept what has happened. I wear a pleasant expression and attempt to make it real. I love your father, yet a part of me died with Doran.” After several large breaths, her lips pinched tight and her tears fell freely. “I see the way you look at Sebastian. You understand love. Boden will never be Doran. Even so, he is all I have left.”

  Olivia knelt at her mother’s feet. “Father loves you. Please do not give him false hope.”

  Her mother set a hand on Olivia’s head, then gently stroked her hair. Something she had not done before. She glided her fingers through the strands, with the tenderness of a mother touching an infant. “Nothing I give him is false. He offered comfort, and I took it. A woman’s place is in her husband’s bed. I denied him for much too long.”

  Olivia eased her head onto her mother’s lap, relishing the closeness she had longed for since she was a child. She intended to give the same intimacy to her children. Boy or girl. “I want you to be happy, Mother. Father as well.”

  “We will be. Eventually, we will manage to put all of this behind us. Once you bring us a grandchild, our love will be sealed.”

  “Mother?” Olivia sat upright. “What if Sebastian’s parents will not approve of me?”

  Her mother’s head drew back. “How could they not? If they have any sense, they will not deny their son his true love. And if they treat you poorly, they shall have to answer to your father. He will set them straight.”

  Olivia relax
ed and nestled back into her mother’s lap. “I love Sebastian.”

  “I know you do, my dear.”

  Her mother’s fingers once again glided through Olivia’s hair.

  She closed her eyes, wishing the moment would last forever.

  * * *

  Sebastian witnessed firsthand the flirtation of the women at the wall. He understood Orman’s frustration. The women appeared lovesick as they fluttered their fingers and giggled. Their behavior reminded him of Princess Angeline.

  Unlike Sebastian, the men hard at work relished the attention. They returned the gestures with those of their own. They would remove their shirts and puff out their chests, then flex their muscles at every opportunity. This was no different than the mating rituals performed by animals of lower degree.

  The bridge was halfway constructed, which brought the men even closer to the women’s view. The crazed females behaved as though they had never beheld a man. Had they tired of the Padridan men so easily?

  Fortunately, one particular man was not returning their advances. Sebastian kept an eye on Jonah through his spyglass. Even without hearing his muttering, Sebastian knew he was complaining. He barked orders to the men and shook his fists.

  Poor Jonah had never before been required to be a bridge builder.

  He glanced up and looked directly at Sebastian, so he lowered the glass and acknowledged him with a slight wave of his hand.

  “Your Highness!”

  Before Sebastian could return the greeting, Jonah sped away from the bridge, then returned holding an arrow poised in his bow.

  A letter?

  Sebastian waved it on. It fell within a short distance from his feet and he plucked it from the ground.

  “For you only!” Jonah yelled harshly.

  His tone prompted action.

  Sebastian hastened to the castle to read the letter in the quiet privacy of his chamber. He locked his door before unrolling the parchment.

  By the look of it, Jonah had to have written it hurriedly. Then again, his penmanship had never been that of a scholar. Nonetheless, it proved to be legible.

  Prince Sebastian,

  I write to you as your friend.

  First, I assure you I am being mindful of the man you wrote of in your letter. I keep a watchful eye and would know if someone came to our camp who was not Basilian. Especially someone fitting his description.

  Now for the unpleasantness.

  As much as I tormented you over the years regarding your inexperience with women, I pray you have adhered to your vows and remain chaste.

  The queen has expressed her disapproval in your choice of a bride. Not only does she believe a woman with commoner’s blood is unsatisfactory, but being she is also Crenian makes her even more undesirable.

  She has put it upon your father to discourage your interest in Olivia. Worse yet, she sent word to Princess Angeline stating your interest in her may soon lead to a proposal. Where in heaven’s name she got the notion that you were interested in Angeline is beyond me.

  If you have indeed bed Olivia, I fear your crown may be at stake.

  I regret it is I who brings you this news. I know your feelings for Olivia go much deeper than anything I have ever experienced with a woman. It pains me to know you will be required to release her.

  Forgive me for causing you grief. I felt it best to make you aware before the king crosses over.

  Jonah

  Sebastian dropped to his knees and tore the parchment into pieces.

  “No,” he muttered. “I will not release her.”

  Jonah’s words brought unimaginable pain. His gut wrenched into knots.

  Yes, he had remained chaste, but it mattered not. He refused to marry Angeline, even if they placed a blade to his throat and threatened him.

  But, how could he give up his throne? If Frederick were crowned, the entire realm would suffer. Would he be willing to sacrifice everyone to be with Olivia?

  “Damn it all!” He beat his fists against the wall.

  Perhaps his mother had been making every decision all along. His father knew of his dislike for Angeline, so why allow the queen to pursue the match?

  Thank God for Jonah.

  His letter gave Sebastian the means to be prepared. He would not lose this battle. Somehow, he would make his father see Olivia’s qualities, then stand up to his mother like a proper king should. After all, as king, his father’s words were final. Once he gave his approval of their match, his mother would have no choice but to accept her.

  Chapter 35

  Something was terribly wrong.

  Olivia held Sebastian’s hand and sensed tension, even through the tips of his fingers.

  The commotion at the wall had grown to such intensity that they wandered as far from it as they could to attain a semblance of calm. She took him to the deepest part of the forest, where the only noises surrounding them were the soothing songs of birds in the trees. Yet Sebastian was distracted. He gazed off as if somewhere else entirely.

  He had told her that in a day’s time the bridge would be complete. It should please him, but gloom weighed down his shoulders like a heavy brick.

  She placed a blanket on the forest floor and sat.

  He paced, looking everywhere, except at her.

  “Sebastian? Will you not join me?”

  “Oh.” He finally faced her. “Of course.” He dropped onto the blanket and drew his legs to his chest, then held them with both hands.

  Olivia inched over and rested her head on his shoulder. “You are troubled. Please tell me what is wrong.” She caressed his arm, attempting to soothe him.

  “I am simply tired.”

  She knew him better than to believe it. Though she hated to challenge him, she could not bear his troubled brow. “You are keeping something from me. I can tell.”

  He shook his head, then looked her in the eyes. “You know me too well. How is that?”

  Drawn to touch him, she ran her fingers along his beard and he closed his eyes. He had not been so relaxed in days, and she hoped to ease him even more.

  She lay back and brought him with her. In almost no time at all, they were kissing and entwined together. His worries seemed to vanish.

  Just as quickly, he pulled away and sat upright. “We mustn’t.” He put his back to her.

  “Why?” She scooted into his body and massaged his shoulders. His tension had returned. He covered his face with his hands and broke her heart. Never had she seen him so defeated. “Please, Sebastian. Tell my why you are troubled. I want to help you.”

  His hands slowly dropped. “Very well. It is my mother, the queen.”

  “You have not seen her for many days. Why does she trouble you now?”

  His breathing became labored, and Olivia feared he would not answer. Then, ever-so-slowly, he met her gaze. The sorrow in his eyes shattered her aching heart.

  “I kept from telling you in hopes I could persuade my father otherwise.” He swallowed hard. “Jonah sent a letter. He warned me that Mother does not approve of you. Apparently, she instructed Father to have me dismiss you.”

  Olivia clutched her stomach. Her throat became so dry it made breathing difficult. With her fears justified, tears were inevitable.

  She faced away from him. Her chin vibrated and her nose ran. She sniffled and tried to keep from crying, but could not stop herself. This was too painful.

  “Please, do not cry.” He drew her into his arms. “I will never let you go. I have been searching my mind for a way to make them see you as I do.” He smoothed her face with his hand, wiping away her tears. “I love you. I will never have another.”

  “But—”

  He stopped her with a kiss and gently laid her back onto the blanket. “I will prove my love.”

  He started to undress, but she stopped him. Though moments ago, she wanted this, everything had changed. She longed to express her love with every part of her body, but not now. Not with the possibility they could not become man and wife.


  “No, Sebastian.” He had untied his tunic and she placed her hand against his bare chest. The patch of hair at the center enticed her even more so than his beard.

  This being the first instance she had touched him so intimately, she had to still her racing heart. She ached for more. “I must have their approval. If I cannot attain it, I will not cost you your throne.”

  His heart thumped against her palm. He took hold of her hand and moved it to his lips. “I want you.” He kissed each knuckle.

  “As I do you.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “We have waited this long. A few more days should not harm us.”

  “Your strength is greater than mine.” He ran his hands through his hair, then stood and readjusted his clothing. “I swear I shall fight for you.”

  She rose to her feet and cuddled into his arms. “Promise it will be with words and not with a sword. I do not want blood spilled over our love.”

  “I promise.” He sealed his vow with a kiss, and they returned to the castle.

  * * *

  After Sebastian excused himself to his chamber, Olivia made her way to the bakery to speak to Rosalie. It had been a while since they had conversed, and Olivia missed her friend. Some female conversation might improve her mood.

  Olivia hoped Sebastian would manage some much-needed rest. He had not lied when he said he was tired, but that was not the source of his stress. His worries caused lack of sleep. And regardless of it being the middle of the day, perhaps he could rest easier in the light. Olivia would look in on him before the evening meal.

  As soon as she inhaled the scent of baking bread, a moment of sadness struck her. She missed the baker’s kind face.

  Rosalie’s warm embrace stifled her sorrow. “We’re busier than ever!” Flour dotted Rosalie’s cheeks. “Everyone is preparing for tomorrow’s celebration. Is it not the most exciting event imaginable?”

  Olivia wished she could share Rosalie’s enthusiasm, but she feared the outcome of the meeting of kings. However, she would not douse Rosalie’s joy. A wonderful change from all the tears she had shed in the past.

  “Yes, it is exciting.” Olivia pushed out a smile. “You appear to be doing quite well. How do you feel?”