Hereafter (The Lost Princesses Book 3) Page 9

  As we’d steadily drawn closer to the coast, we’d passed through one small village after another. The couple of times we’d stopped for provisions, I’d been impressed with Rex’s fairness and courtesy in his dealings with peasants and tradesmen alike. Perhaps I’d been expecting the brutish behavior my father had always attributed to King Ethelwulf. But Rex, while brusque and businesslike, hadn’t shown any cruelty or callousness.

  Rex’s nose brushed against my temple even as his mouth hovered near my ear, so I could hear his breathing. The graze of his skin and the nearness of his mouth made me suddenly dizzy so that I closed my eyes and reclined my head against his shoulder.

  “Is that a yes?” His voice was light, almost teasing.

  “Perhaps.” I laid my arm across the one he kept around my middle, relishing the hard contours and strength emanating from him. After the hours spent together, I’d realized he was as strong of mind as he was of body. We’d talked of many things, and I’d grown to respect his intelligence in all areas of science, history, and geography.

  “You will rest in ease soon,” he said, “for God willing, we shall reach Delsworth within the hour.”

  “Within the hour?” I opened my eyes and strained to see the horizon ahead. “I thought it to be longer since we just stopped.”

  “We stopped for only one reason.” His voice dropped. “I had a need to hold my wife.”

  At the intimacy in his tone, my insides smoldered and my thoughts filled with the kiss he’d placed upon my knuckles yesterday, so warm, so tender. I knew I shouldn’t think about it, shouldn’t let myself react to him the way I was. I had to stay aloof and remember I was his prisoner.

  Even so, the longer I was with him, the more I was growing to like him. After the daring rescue he’d made in the Cistern Bogs, how could I not appreciate his valor and kindness? He’d arrived when I’d lost hope, when the danger had been too much to battle on my own. He hadn’t hesitated to charge directly into the peril of the bog and the sundew. He’d put his own life at risk for mine. Not only that, but he’d suffered painful wounds that even now needed tending again.

  I couldn’t keep from admiring him, but the more my admiration grew, the more I betrayed my parents and the sacrifices they’d made. They’d raised me to fight against King Ethelwulf and his son. If they could see me now, they’d be disappointed at how I’d let down my defenses and engaged Rex so easily.

  Moreover, Father would have admonished me for another failed escape attempt. I’d had the chance at a complete getaway, but I’d done too many things wrong—like neglecting to cover my tracks, almost as if part of me had wanted Rex to come after me. Which couldn’t be true, could it?

  Next time, I’d do better and make an escape that would impress even my father, one that also included regaining the ancient key and the labyrinth map. I’d berated myself dozens of times for giving Rex such easy access to the map that Father and I had drawn. While packing to leave for Norland, Father must have placed it inside one of my books for safekeeping, unbeknownst to me. If only he’d been able to warn me. If only I hadn’t so foolishly thought to bring my books.

  Whatever the case, I resigned myself to remaining Rex’s captive for the present. Once I was in Delsworth and away from Rex’s constant supervision, perhaps when he trusted me better, I’d have an easier time regaining the key and map and then slipping away.

  The coastal road had grown busier, and now that we were so close to the capital, I understood why. A soldier galloped ahead and called out to the people, warning them to move aside for the prince, so that by the time we passed, they were out of the way and bowing in deference.

  I noticed again—as I had since we’d arrived in the first small town—that the people weren’t excited to see the prince. Most cowered in fear or watched us with blank expressions that I sensed masked discontentment and dislike. A few brave men and women dared to glare at the prince, refusing to bow. If Rex noticed, he paid them no heed.

  I, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of the details of the land and people. After living so isolated a life, my senses were alert to everything, from the heavy odors of fish drying on racks along the shore to the dampness in the sea breeze to the shrieking of the gulls.

  While I was fascinated, I was also saddened by the conditions. Everywhere I looked, I could see the effects of King Ethelwulf’s years of selfish rule, as well as his refusal to provide relief during drought we’d had.

  Rather than securing the people’s welfare, the king had rewarded his trusted advisors and loyal noblemen by taking land and titles away from others, increasing the wealth and power of his supporters substantially, and allowing his faithful followers to rule their domains as they saw fit so that disorder and lawlessness had become rampant.

  The awareness confirmed everything my parents had taught me—that the people of Mercia deserved better. They deserved to have a leader who would make their well-being a priority.

  Would my sister, Queen Adelaide Constance, do so? Would she truly love the people and land and be the compassionate sovereign they needed?

  The ancient prophecy predicted a young ruler full of wisdom who would use the treasure to help drive the evil from the land and usher in a time of peace. My parents had taught me my older sister was that young ruler.

  But, what if they’d been wrong? What if Rex was meant to fulfill the prophecy? He was, after all, the crown prince, having been groomed to reign after King Ethelwulf. He might be ruthless and even harsh at times. But at heart, he wasn’t evil.

  “What are you thinking about?” Rex had started asking that question whenever we rode together. I’d been rather surprised at the ease with which we could talk and found time passed much quicker during our conversations. “You are thinking of Bede again.”

  Although I missed my fox, what was worse was knowing he missed me and didn’t understand what had become of me. I had no doubt he’d worried, paced, and howled at my absence, causing my parents untold grief.

  To ease my ache, I’d shared with Rex how I’d discovered Bede as a newborn in his fox den. His mother and the rest of the litter had died of starvation during the worst season of the drought. But I’d brought Bede home and fought to save him, laboring over him day and night until he’d gained strength.

  Rex had asked about Bede’s name and why I’d chosen it, which had then led to a lengthy discussion of history and renowned historians—particularly Saint Bede, who’d written the account of the Great Isle in the early days of its settlement. I’d been reading a copy of Bede’s narration at the time I’d found the fox pup, and the name had seemed fitting.

  “Bede is never far from my mind,” I said. “But as we near Delsworth, I cannot keep from thinking about other matters.”

  “Such as . . .”

  “Why everyone must fight over the throne. Why can we not live in peace?”

  Rex was quiet for a long moment. That was another thing I liked about him—he didn’t brush away my concerns or questions. Rather, he took his time in giving me serious answers.

  At his silence, I glanced at his profile. I tried not to stare at him too often, but my attention seemed to have a will of its own and was drawn more and more to him, to his ruggedness, to the strength in every nuance, to the pride of his bearing.

  Whenever he dropped his sights to me, I found myself inwardly flushing under the intensity of his penetrating eyes that seemed to see right inside me and know my thoughts. And this time was no different. As he shifted his attention to my face, I found myself captured and bound to him.

  “I want to live at peace,” he replied. “More than anything. Which is why I searched so hard to find you.”

  “You have only stirred up more conflict by taking me.” I had the sudden urge to graze my fingers along his jawline and test the scratchiness of his stubble.

  His gaze wandered around my face, lingering over my features as though he enjoyed looking upon me the same way I did him. “We may yet have a skirmish, but I pray we have avoid
ed outright war and needless deaths on both sides.”

  “But your father has waged wars, and you are an elite guard, a warrior—”

  “I have no wish for war.” His answer was fierce, unexpected, and gave me pause.

  I didn’t realize I’d hesitated in my response until his gaze dropped to my still-rounded, open lips. Something flared in his eyes, darkening the blue. Without taking his sight from my lips, he leaned closer.

  Was he thinking of kissing me? Surely not.

  When he angled his head, heat speared my insides, turning my blood hot and sending waves rippling along my skin. My breath caught hard in my throat, and my body tensed in anticipation—dare I say, even readiness?

  For several heartbeats, I didn’t care we had an audience—his men as well as the people on the sides of the road. I didn’t care I’d known the prince for only a few days. And I forgot I was a naïve young woman who could easily be seduced by a smooth-talking man. I could only think about how it would feel to touch my lips to his.

  But as he dipped closer, my heartbeat dipped too. The irregular rhythm reminded me of where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I needed to stay alert and get away from the prince, not allow myself to fall deeper into his embrace.

  I quickly lowered my gaze and my chin, turning my head and cutting off the moment of intimacy. Or at least I thought I did. A touch of his lips against my temple told me I’d been wrong. The warmth and the soft pressure were the same as when he’d kissed my knuckles. He was tender and restrained, and yet I could feel his desire for me—a desire that told me our nearness was affecting him as it was me.

  At a shout ahead, he stiffened and pulled back. I strained to see the source of the commotion but couldn’t see far enough to make any speculations about what was happening.

  Moments later, a horse and rider came into view, galloping toward us at full speed. As the soldier neared, I could see his black chain mail and guessed him to be a messenger from the king. Since Magnus had already ridden ahead to Delsworth with the news of our marriage, what if the king had decided I wasn’t needed after all? Especially now that Rex had my key and the map to the labyrinth? Would Rex release me?

  His vows from after our hasty wedding in the woods whispered in my mind. As I’d gotten to know Rex, I’d learned he was a man of integrity and wouldn’t make any vows unless he planned to honor them. But certainly, this was different. Certainly, he wouldn’t keep me unless he truly had to.

  Did I want him to keep me?

  As soon as the question crossed my mind, I chastised myself for even caring. If he no longer needed me, then I’d be able to make my way to my parents and Bede with all haste. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

  When the soldier brought his horse into stride next to Rex’s, the messenger bowed as deeply as he could from atop his mount.

  “What news have you?” Rex demanded, wasting no time with formalities.

  The younger man was red-faced and sweating, and his horse heaved with the strain of his ride, both testifying to the urgency of his message. “Your Highness, the king tasked me with delivering the news that the usurper and her rebel army, along with Norland’s forces, will surround Delsworth’s harbor within two days.”

  Usurper? Did he mean Adelaide?

  “How many ships?” Rex asked.

  “Over two dozen. Scouts report seeing siege engines on the decks.”

  “Has word spread among the people that I have married the Princess Emmeline?”

  The messenger didn’t let his gaze shift to me, although I had no doubt he was curious. “That is why the king has sent me, in order to summon you back with greater haste. He is planning to have the official wedding ceremony today so all the land hears and knows of the marriage.”

  Rex barked rapid commands to his men then kicked his steed into a gallop.

  Could my public union to Rex really bring about peace? At the very least, could it prevent the start of another war?

  I wasn’t sure the joining of a princess from the House of Mercia to a prince from the House of Warwick would truly satisfy the people and prevent a revolt. The problems ran deep, and the deprivation I’d witnessed today only confirmed it.

  However, if there was even a small chance our marriage might prevent bloodshed, how could I not work toward that goal? If that meant I needed to resign myself to a life with Rex in Delsworth, I could do that, couldn’t I?

  Although deep inside I suspected my father would have argued against my logic and encouraged me to find a way to free myself before the public wedding ceremony, I quietly pushed aside his voice.

  Maybe staying wasn’t what he would have chosen for me. But if I decided to honor my marriage to the prince, was it possible such a choice would take more courage than running away?

  Chapter

  10

  Rex

  I stood near the altar of the cathedral, my sights fixed on the entrance. My muscles were rigid, my body tense, my jaw clenched.

  Would Emmeline come? Or had she tried to make another escape?

  A mental warning tolled louder with each passing moment of delay, telling me I’d been too trusting and had given her too much freedom during the hour we’d been at Delsworth Castle. Perhaps I should have accompanied her to her chambers and overseen the servants who’d been tasked with making her presentable for the wedding ceremony. She could outsmart them if she set her mind to it, although she would be hard-pressed to slip past the guards I’d posted outside her door.

  But another part of me waited expectantly, praying she’d come to the wedding of her own accord, that I wouldn’t need to force her to speak her vows, that this time she’d want to be with me.

  I knew it was too soon to hope for love. But during our journey, she seemed to begin to care about me just a little. Hopefully, I hadn’t misread her expressive eyes—the shy glances that seemed to relay an interest and even an attraction.

  But what if her need to return to her parents still outweighed her attraction? What if she’d been biding her time, making me believe she cared so I’d let my defenses down and allow her the chance to run away again?

  “I have heard she is quite beautiful,” my mother said from the ornate throne positioned in front of the altar next to the king’s equally elaborate throne.

  Before I could answer my mother, the king had already reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss there. “No one is or ever will be as beautiful as you are, my queen.”

  Mother smiled tenderly at him. With her long golden hair and her blue eyes, she was as beautiful as always. But I disagreed with the king. Emmeline was more stunning. If Mother was a shining star, then Emmeline was as vibrant as the moon.

  For all his brutality, I respected that the king was kind and loving to Mother. He adored her and treated her as a rare jewel. Over the past year, I’d noticed she seemed to be the only person who never angered him, and her presence and beauty had the power to calm him.

  While I didn’t know my mother well, I’d come to realize she was a simple woman who kept away from the concerns of the kingdom, preferring to spend her days embroidering and tending her rose gardens. If she knew about any of the problems, she chose to ignore them—perhaps had learned to ignore them for her own sanity.

  Whatever the case, I inclined my head first to my mother then to the king. With his long black hair styled into three warrior braids and his pointed beard, he exuded strength and dominion. His dark eyes connected with mine and contained a sharpness that set me on edge. Though he might have shielded Mother from the encroaching danger, he’d already spoken at length with me since my return.

  And he’d made no effort to hide his frustration that it had taken me so long to find Emmeline. He’d expected me to capture her weeks ago and believed if I’d done so, we would have had fewer men leaving Mercia and joining the rebel army.

  I’d wanted to remind him that Captain Theobald hadn’t been able to locate any of the princesses in the months he’d searched, and
I alone had achieved success. Not only had I found Emmeline, but I’d laid claim to her key and some form of a labyrinth map, which were both now in the king’s possession. Nevertheless, as usual, I bore the king’s censure without reply.

  I glanced again at the doors, past the throngs waiting outside, and hoped to glimpse Emmeline’s arrival. The chapel inside was filled beyond capacity, nobles sitting in every pew, lining the side aisles, and standing along the back. Those of high rank not privileged enough to gain an inside view crowded the churchyard. Beyond the yard, masses of common people lined the wrought-iron fences.

  Father Patrick sat in a chair near the altar. Although he wore fresh robes, weariness creased his face. I’d had to push him too hard over the past days of travel and needed to reward him for his faithful service.

  Magnus stood at my side, also attired in clean garments. He’d complained about having to attend, pleading to have the time to refresh himself after so long away. But of course, he’d accompanied us to the chapel, stifling his frustration.

  “Perhaps the princess has run away again,” he whispered now, loud enough for our parents to hear.

  The king lifted his brow, already aware of my escapades with Emmeline, since Magnus had given him every detail of her capture, including her breaking free and sneaking away from our camp.

  “If so, you will need to tame her,” the king said in an ominous tone that made my gut clench. If anyone else had spoken of taming Emmeline, I would have punished them swiftly.

  I lifted my chin and met the king’s gaze, conveying my displeasure but knowing I had to appease him nonetheless. “I shall take my direction from your worthy example, Your Majesty. I shall endeavor to love my wife as ardently as you have loved yours. And in so doing, I pray the princess will come to care for me as much as Mother does you.”