Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

JOHA

I have never been called a moron in my entire existence. Truthfully, I am not even sure what the strange word means, but as I watch the retreating form of the female who saved me, I realise two things.

One, I want to know what it means.

Two, she is unlike anyone I have ever met.

Stumbling to my feet, I slip in the mud for a moment before catching my balance. I’m glad she’s facing the other way as I wobble, my cloak almost falling off in the process. Securing it while ignoring the tattered arm, I clear my throat and call out, “Wait!”

I hurry after her, stepping over the fallen bodies and cursing myself for my own stupidity. I thought I had hidden my station well, but apparently, I was wrong. It has been too long since I have been over the walls of the palace and in our lands. I had not realised the depths of despair and ruin it had fallen into and how I would stand out so much amongst them. That is exactly why I ventured here in the first place, and if not for the amber-haired beauty, I would be dead.

When I manage to catch her at the corner of a building, I grip her arm to get her to stop. What I did not anticipate, however, was how she would react to this. She spins in a move too quick for my eyes to follow and slams me into the wooden building. I have to smother every instinct to fight back and remain meek and dumb, continuing to pretend to be the person everyone thinks I am.

This woman and the bandits called me a stumbler. The look on her face as she spoke about it makes me think that whatever that is, it is not a good thing.

For a moment, I get a good look at her face. It’s shaped like a heart, pale, and dusted with the same coloured freckles as her hair. Her skin looks soft and perfect, not marred at all, unlike most from the lower part of our lands. I have the insane urge to reach out and brush my fingers against her skin to see if it’s really as soft as it looks. I manage to catch myself, though, as I would likely lose my hand for touching her again. After what I just saw her do to those bandits, it would be easy for her to take my life. Knowing this should make me fearful, but instead, I continue to stare at her, noticing how her unruly, curly hair is slipping out from beneath her hood, the colour reminding me of burning flames, warmth, and home.

Her eyes shine like the finest jewels of the king’s crown.

Her lips are full and pursed in fury, and they are the palest shade of pink, as if run across by the berries from the south. She is remarkable, and more beautiful than most court ladies that flock to me, yet unlike them, she watches me with barely controlled anger and annoyance.

When her voice comes, it is silken and contains a familiar lilt, yet her words are coarse and crude. “Fuck off, rich man. Touch me again and I will take your hand like your soldiers did to my family.”

She departs, plunging into the crowds beyond the alley. I stumble after her, my heart racing even though I am not sure why.

Maybe it’s because no one has ever spoken to me that way before. No, no one has ever spoken to their king that way before.

They bow and scrape, never letting a foul word cross their lips in my presence. Even my enemies hide their threats behind perfect, thinly veiled complaints.

Not her. No, she told me exactly what she thought of me. I am a fool. She was right.

I search the masses of the market beyond. This was my original destination before I got lost, following what appeared to be a starving child into an alley in hopes that I could help him. Of course, I realise now that it was all a ruse to lead me into the trap the bandits contrived.

Many are cloaked thanks to the poor weather, yet they look nothing like mine. These are tattered and patched, made from dark, dull colours so as not to stand out. Wherever she is, she blends in perfectly, knowing the back streets far better than I do. Turning away with a sigh, I reach up and rest my fingers over my throat where her blade was poised. It would have been so easy for her to end me, and given the fact that I got her dragged into a fight, some might think it would have been justified.

The bandit in charge had spoken of an assassin, and at first, I had not realised that he was speaking about her. However, she seemed to have the attitude and fighting skills to back it up.

Who was this woman?

Just then, I hear the toll of the bells from the palace, letting me know the change of guards is about to happen. I must hurry back before they come to wake and dress me for the day. I can just imagine their panic at finding my chambers empty.

I may be king of these lands, but I am as much of a servant as those who work for me, trapped in my own palace—a puppet king.

For one moment this evening, though, I felt alive with those emerald eyes peering at me, and as I hurry through the streets to the palace, they are all I can think of.

No one bothers me on my hurried journey back, but as I approach and the western hidden gate slams open, I know I’ve been caught. The light at the guard station frames the huge, hulking silhouette of my personal guard. “You are in trouble, my king.”

His voice is like shifting boulders, and I grin as I push my hood back and step in beside him, flashing him a wink. “Don’t be so uptight, Orion.”

“We are not friends right now,” he says, looking around to make sure that no one is nearby to overhear us. “You left without me. That is not allowed?—”

I know that when it comes down to it, this is what upsets him the most—not that I snuck out, but the fact that I did not take him with me.

“Which is exactly why I did it.” I clap his shoulder to lessen the blow, trying to make light of it. He is the only one I trust here, but I have not been alone since birth. My every move is watched and monitored. I am escorted to my rooms to sleep, and they wash me and dress me. I am always with someone. I needed to see what has become of my father’s lands and be alone. The reports I was being given from my stepmother did not add up, and I knew that the only way I would get the truth was to find out for myself.

“My king.” Orion sighs in that disappointed way of his that I hate. Many would think he was years older than me, not that we are the same age. I guess protecting me ages him, or it could be because he’s one of the largest men I’ve ever met.

“I am back now, safe and sound. Let us go before they find out.” I move through the familiar palace, every inch of which I have explored. Orion follows me, stern and annoyed as always, but he does not stop me.

“You will be the death of me, Joha,” he mutters as we reach the king’s palace. We wait as servants rush from the building to fetch water for my morning bath, the palanquins of food stopping before the doors.

“Do not be a moron,” I whisper over my shoulder as we wait for the perfect moment.

He blinks in confusion, taken aback by my comment. “Do you even know what that means, my king?”

“Not a clue.” I grin widely. “Follow me.”

I run to the wall, leaping and catching the railing. I roll over it effortlessly, landing on my feet and slipping silently into my rooms. Orion is right behind me, silent despite his size. He is the best warrior we have and just so happens to be my best friend.

As I shed my cloak, he picks it up, his face darkening as he finds the cut in the garment. Holding it up, he waits until I meet his gaze. “Is it not enough to have threats and enemies in every corner of your life, but you must also seek out danger as well?”

“Orion, I had to see the state of my kingdom. They are my people,” I reply seriously. “Now, let us get ready for another boring day of meetings and bowing and scraping.”

“You are the king,” he says with that same stern frown he has had since childhood.

He was always the serious one, whereas I was always jovial and playful. His comment quickly brings me back down from my high.

“We both know it’s in name only,” I state bitterly, the familiar sense of hopelessness falling over me.

“Your Majesty,” the court servers call through the sliding doors separating my rooms from the hallway, giving the illusion of privacy. “Your bath is ready. Shall we wait to serve your food?”

“I am coming,” I call loudly, watching their shadows back away. My choices are limited, and it makes me bitter. For a moment, I wonder what freedom I would have known had I not been born into a throne—a position many covet and would kill to obtain.

“Puppet king,” I murmur, shaking my head in disgust.