Chapter One

Freddy

B eing left at the altar was a very uncomfortable situation to be in.

Unfortunately for Freddy, it was also a familiar one.

He rocked backwards on his heels as he waited beside the priest, doing his best to keep a smile on his face.

After all, this is finally your wedding day.

King Alfred of Nedra paced back and forth across the chancel, his polished boots echoing off the tiled floor with each step. His dark, severe brows were pulled together in a scowl, and his angry eyes glittered almost as much as his ruby-studded crown.

"Where is that girl?" King Alfred growled the words at no one in particular.

"Perhaps she is experiencing some difficulty with her wardrobe?" the priest offered helpfully as he ran his long fingers over the gilded edges of his book. His simple robes were a direct contrast to the king's fashionable, expensive jacket and bejeweled fingers, and his face was just as kind and patient as Alfred's was tense and brooding.

"I'm sure she'll be along any second." Prince Shea of Cabriole, the only other occupant of the room, clasped his hands behind his back and spoke in a soothing tone. He had matched his eyepatch to his dark red uniform jacket for the occasion, and he stood with a military bearing that spoke to his recent service. His dark hair was smoothed back until not a single strand was out of place, and his face was smooth and clean shaven.

Under any other circumstance, Freddy would have laughed at the stark contrast in their appearance. His own hair, dyed several shades darker than its normal sun-bleached blonde, had grown out until it hung low over his brows in front and almost reached his shoulders in the back. His beard was bushy and unkempt, a fact that made him want to scratch his chin whenever he thought of it.

Shea looked like the respectable and noble prince that he was.

Freddy, with his worn, shabby clothing and a lute slung over his shoulder, looked like a wandering, starving artist.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt. He much preferred the soft linens of his home country over the scratchy wool, but it had been necessary for the disguise.

"She better be, if she knows what's good for her." Alfred's voice darkened with the implied threat, and it was all Freddy could do to keep his smile on his face and his protective instincts tamped down.

Come on, Lizzie. Don't do this again.

Shea caught his eye and raised a questioning brow. He was the only one aware of both Freddy's real identity and his subsequent investment in the situation.

Freddy answered his look with a small, helpless shrug.

There's nothing to do but wait. If Lizzie is coming, drawing further attention to her tardiness will only serve to make Alfred angrier, and who knows what other impulsive decision he's likely to make? And if she's not, well...

He let out a silent sigh.

I suppose I'll just have to go after her again.

The doors to the chapel burst open with a bang, and a breathless woman stumbled through. Freddy recognized her mousy brown curls and round face. It was Audrey, the princess's lady-in-waiting. A sinking feeling slowly spread over him as he took in her dramatic entrance and frazzled expression.

"She's not here, Your Majesty. Princess Eliza is gone."

The tense silence that immediately filled the room after Audrey's announcement was thick and heavy. Audrey, likely seeking to escape the wrath of her monarch, slowly backed out of the chapel. Freddy watched King Alfred's face alternate between shades of red and purple, and he prepared himself for the storm of rage that was sure to come. Instead, when the king spoke, his voice was razor sharp and deadly calm.

"You." He spun on his heel, piercing Freddy with his intense dark eyes. "Whatever your name is—do you still wish to marry a princess?"

Freddy swallowed his protests at Alfred's callous treatment of his daughter. He allowed an eager smile to spread over his face. "Yes, Your Majesty."

After all, agreeing to this will get Lizzie out from under his thumb. If he's mad enough to go through with his threat and marry her off to the first man who shows up at his door, there's no telling what else he might do if I say no. I'm beginning to realize that Alfred of Nedra is much more volatile and dangerous than we thought him to be.

A troubled line appeared between the priest's brows. "But Her Highness—"

"Has made the unfortunate mistake of believing herself to have any power in this situation." Alfred turned his steely glare on the robed man. "She forgets that I am the king, and if I marry her to this pathetic minstrel, then she's married to him."

Shea caught Freddy's eye, his expression once again wordlessly asking if he should intervene.

Freddy gave the tiniest shake of his head.

"But, Your Majesty, the ceremony—"

"Is a formality, not a legality. Do you have the necessary papers?"

The priest fumbled with his book, pulling out a pile of folded papers from the back. "Your Majesty, I must protest. The Almighty never intended—"

"For daughters to so blatantly disrespect their fathers," Alfred seethed, snatching the papers out of the priest's hand. "Eliza has disobeyed and embarrassed me for the last time. She's finally going to get a taste of reality—and it won't be pleasant."

Alfred pulled a gold-plated pen from his breast pocket and stepped around the priest, smoothing the papers out on the altar and signing his name on the bottom of each with a flourish.

"You, minstrel," he snapped his fingers at Freddy, gesturing him over. "What was your name again?"

"Malakai Fidelis." The practiced name rolled easily off his tongue, and Freddy wondered for a moment if he should be concerned at his distinct lack of remorse for lying to a monarch.

But then again, he's the one acting in breach of a previous agreement. Technically, by doing this, I'm saving Nedra from a whole slew of political and economic ramifications.

"Whatever. Sign here." Alfred pointed to the space at the bottom of the marriage contract near his own flourishing scrawl.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Freddy took the pen and suddenly stilled.

I didn't think about this part. If I sign a false name, the marriage contract will be void, and all of this will be for nothing. Would that be better for Lizzie? After all, she would be free to make her own choice. Or would she? It's more likely that Alfred will just put her into this situation again, but with a man far less concerned about her and more worried about becoming a king's son-in-law.

"Do you even know how to write your own name?" Alfred's patronizing sneer interrupted his moral quandary, making up his mind for him.

I'll just have to pray that he doesn't look closely at the signatures. Knowing him, he'll probably wash his hands of it and forget the whole matter once it's over.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. Just a case of wedding day jitters. It's not every day that a man marries a princess."

Alfred snorted. "If you can find her, she's all yours." He turned his back dismissively to speak to Shea, giving Freddy the opportunity to sign his full name at the bottom of both copies.

Frederick Ensford Hill

"And you, Cabriole?" Alfred was saying. "You stand witness to the union?"

"I'll witness it, though I can't say that I approve of your measures."

"I want your signature, not your judgment. Remember who supported your father when your little kingdom was under attack."

"And for the sake of our allies, I will sign," Shea answered, his one good eye flicking briefly to Freddy, his meaning clear:

He was going along with the scheme solely for Freddy's sake.

He took the pen from Freddy and signed his name, his letters as neat and even as the lines of his uniform were pressed. Once finished, Alfred shoved one of the contracts at Freddy's chest and handed the other to the priest without so much as a second glance. Freddy released a quiet sigh of relief.

"See to it that this gets filed in the proper place," Alfred barked at the priest before turning back to Freddy, his lips curling in distaste. "Well, minstrel, it seems you've gotten yourself a princess. But just so we're clear." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an icy temperature. "She might have been born a princess, but that does not make you a prince. There will be no extraneous benefits given to you because of the marriage—that's all in the contract that you just signed."

"Understood, Your Majesty," Freddy answered, bowing low at the waist. "It is enough that I can call her my wife."

"Hah! You'll have to find her first. And there will be no resources of mine wasted there, either. As far as I'm concerned, she's your wife, which means it's your problem."

And this attitude is precisely why I signed my name.

Freddy hid the grim thought behind a shallow smile. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Alfred consulted the watch in his pocket. "Right. Well, now that this business is all taken care of, I must be off. That wretched child has made me late to breakfast. Cabriole, are you coming?"

Shea shook his head. "I have some other tasks to see to this morning."

"Suit yourself."

Without another word, Alfred swept out of the room. As the large doors slammed shut behind him, the air in the room suddenly seemed to clear. Freddy let out a long breath and finally allowed the smile to fall from his face.

"Congratulations, Malakai." Shea offered his hand with a wry smirk. "How does it feel to finally be a married man?"

"Considering the bride is still nowhere to be found, about the same as before. Thanks for asking."

Still, it's a step closer. And now when I finally find Lizzie, I won't have to return her to her father.

"Your mother is going to have a fit, you know."

"Only until she realizes that she can plan a reception just as easily as she can plan a wedding. And who knows? Perhaps the fact that she's already done it once will be enough to keep her from wanting to go through the hassle yet again."

A strangled squeak from the priest drew their attention. His eyes were wide with shock as he looked up from the marriage contract, which he had opened and smoothed out on top of his book. "Y-your Highness? What is the meaning of this?"

Freddy glanced over at Shea, who simply shrugged and lifted his eyebrows, as if to echo the priest's question.

I would expect a little more help in strategizing from a military commander.

He straightened and cleared his throat. "The meaning is that I kept your king from breaking a previous marriage contract and causing an international incident. Or did you not realize that the agreement between Kysta and Nedra still stands?"

The priest paled. "He said that the betrothal was broken, that she returned home in shame."

"He might have shamed her, but Kysta certainly never did." He paused for a moment, considering. "I know it may seem contrary to your vows, but I would appreciate your silence on the matter, at least until Princess Eliza is found. His Majesty is a proud man, and there is no telling how he may react."

"Surely you can't think he would retaliate against you."

"No, but I am worried about how he would retaliate against her. " Freddy's fists tightened at the memory of Alfred's cruel and callous words about his daughter replayed in his mind. "You've witnessed firsthand the effects of his temper. He was willing to give her away to the first man who showed up at his doorstep, all because he was angry with her for not choosing a husband on the spot."

The priest was quiet for a moment. "The king's temper is well known, but I am beginning to suspect that we are only aware of its surface. Very well, Your Highness. For Eliza's sake, I will keep this matter between us. However, if His Majesty asks to see the contract, I cannot hide it from him."

"I wouldn't expect you to. Thank you...?"

"Bartholomew."

"Thank you, Bartholomew." Freddy gave his hand a firm shake.

"What now?" Shea asked, rejoining the conversation.

Freddy scratched his chin. The shaggy beard was itchy, but until he was able to find Lizzie and bring her home, it was better that he be able to travel incognito. He breathed deeply. "Now, I just have to find her."

"You mean we have to find her," Shea corrected. "Don't look at me like that," he continued in response to Freddy's expression of shock. "You know Hadrian would have my head if he knew I allowed you to go off tramping across Eukarya on your own. You're many things, Fred, but an intrepid and savvy traveler is not one of them."

Freddy's heart warmed at the show of loyalty. He grinned knowingly. "You're just trying to find an excuse to put off your own wedding."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."

He clapped a heavy hand on Shea's shoulder, putting a little more force than was necessary behind the gesture. Shea didn't even flinch. "Well, I, for one, highly recommend married life."

"You've been married for less than ten minutes, and your wife is likely fleeing the country at this very moment."

"But she still holds my heart just the same as before." Though he spoke the words as a joke, Freddy couldn't deny the truth that burned underneath.

Every day and always.

Shea seemed to sense it, for his attitude suddenly turned serious again. "We'll find her. The first thing would be to see if we can find out from any of the staff if there is anyone she has recently been corresponding with, or any friends who might have an insight into where she might have run."

"Ah, there's the strategist I was looking for earlier. If you question the friends, I'll see if there's anything I can learn from the staff. I don't think Alfred would take too kindly to me showing my face in any of the public places."

Bartholomew looked back and forth between them quizzically before settling his gaze on Freddy. "You're actually going after her? But she jilted you."

Freddy readjusted the strap of the lute on his shoulder. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Believe it or not, it's not the first time."