Chapter Eight

N o footman lay in Eron's bed upon his return. He stayed awake the rest of the night. What had Kene and the old man meant? And "Father?" What of Dafron? Eron knew that name. An image came to mind of a man slightly older than Eron's age, wearing Eron's face but with subtle differences like the patch of snowy white hair on the crown of his head.

How did Eron know this?

He rose at first light, dressed, and sought Kene. No waiting to be summoned today. As his foot hit the last stair to the house's main level, Kene called out, "Good morn, Edry! You're up early."

Eron spun, taking in the untidy appearance of Kene's clothes and hair. Dark circles stood out against her pale skin, and her forced smile didn't reach her eyes. Harsh morning light accentuated the lines around Kene's eyes and mouth. Her hair was too light to detect white strands, but she'd aged since she'd rescued Eron.

"Good morn to you, Kene. Did you not rest well?"

Kene regarded Eron coolly, then gave a decisive nod that might be more in agreement with herself than an answer to Eron's question. Something indecipherable passed between them. "Edry, go into my study. I'll have a meal brought."

Unease squirmed through Eron's guts. He nodded and did as told, taking a seat near the window, but he couldn't be still. The day promised to be gray. Cloud cover would keep temperatures cool.

A maid shuffled in a few moments later and removed the teapot and plate of scones from the desk. Two maids returned with more.

"Here." Eron motioned to a nearby table.

"Yes, milord." The maids set down their burdens, casting him coy glances as they left the room. They still had their caps set for the heir apparent, did they? They'd be sorely disappointed. Like their current lady, Eron, as heir, would remain unmarried and with no children, taking pleasure in discreet and not-so-discreet assignations.

Only after the maids left did Kene enter and quietly close the door. Her smile was bittersweet as she sat in a chair across from Eron rather than behind the desk. She poured them both a cup of tea but didn't touch the scones. "Edry, you've been my ward, my protégé, dare I say, my son for twelve summers."

Hard to miss the tension in her voice and bearing. "You've been a wonderful mentor."

Kene laughed. "Despite my having no experience. As Edry, you've studied, learned to fight, how to hunt, and depend on yourself."

"Yes. As I said, a good mentor." He had a sinking feeling about where Kene was going with this line of conversation.

"Which makes what I'm about to say all the more difficult. Listen carefully. You were young when I found you, but I knew who you were."

Eron had few recollections before Kene found him. One of Kene's learned friends said that was because of shock. "I'm Edry, your ward."

"No. You're Prince Eron Eritrescue of Hisar. Your father was King Lothan Eritrescue."

"I what? No, that can't be. I'm no prince." Prince Eron whispered in his mind. Whose voice? "King Lothan and both of his sons died."

Kene shook her head slowly back and forth, pity etched on her face. "It's true. I know you don't remember much about your past, but you are indeed the prince. Your father was killed by his jealous uncle, a loathsome toad of a man, Bain Eritrescue. Under your father, the people thrived, but his uncle is a cruel, greedy king who takes without giving. It has continued for too long. I've hired the best tutors for you, the best swordsmen. All to teach you what you'd need to know someday."

This couldn't be true. Kene had found Eron in the woods, dressed in commoner's clothing. Eron gripped the chair arms lest his spinning world suddenly dump him on the floor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dear boy, that the time has come for you to take your rightful place. I'll admit to hoping this day wouldn't come, but a visitor in the night has reminded me of my task."

"But if my great uncle killed my father, how can I expect to succeed? And prince?" Eron snorted. "Me? A prince?"

"Your father's only flaw was a too-trusting nature. Your mother died when you were young, and your father's new queen and the commander of his guard betrayed him. Their payment is coming due."

Eron replayed memories: being found in the woods, Kene bringing him here, lessons, ritzy parties, and holding up carriages. "I don't remember." An image of a handsome, smiling face came to mind. Someone who always took the time to talk to Eron. What was his name? Kerric? "I remember a Kerric, I think." Sometimes, Eron got flashes of scenes in his mind. Memories.

"Yes, the captain of the king's guard and his men were also betrayed. They remain at the castle, ready to defend you when you need them."

"I don't understand. You want me to leave? Am I not to be your heir? Continue your work?"

Kene placed her warm palm on Eron's cheek. "My dear boy, never would I want you to leave. However, the people of Hisar need you. Many have died because the corrupt king has raised taxes on the poor and middle class beyond what they can pay to fund his craving for luxuries. We do our best with what we take from nobles, but it's never enough. The king throws extravagant parties while the people barely survive.

"Though I knew of his greed and cruelty, still I hoped to keep you out of this matter. I'd hoped to continue as we are, make you my heir, but I was deluding myself. I knew I'd have let you go one day even when I rescued you."

Panic caught Eron by the throat. His heart raced. Leave here? Leave Kene? "But aren't we a thorn in the king's side, stealing from his wealthy friends? Isn't that enough?"

"We are. But now you must be more than a thorn. You must be a lance. I have no way of restoring your memories. They'll come back over time. You were too young to deal with what happened to you, and between a mage and your own horror, they were blocked. There are no guarantees, but you might remember someday." Kene leaned forward and placed a kiss on Eron's brow.

Now, to ask the next logical question. "What now?" Bits of the overheard conversation flitted through Eron's mind.

"Because you are ready, and you're needed. But remember, you are like the son I once longed for, so this tears at my soul. At the next full moon, I must return you to your life. Remember this. There will always be a place for you with me." Kene pressed her forehead to Eron's. "Always. Be you Lord Edry or Prince Eron, king or thief."