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Chapter 42

Chapter

Forty-Two

JOHA

S taring up at the high beams that make up the ceiling of my bedroom, I gaze out of the small window built into the roof. I can see the moon, which is exactly why I had my bed placed here: for nights like this when I cannot sleep. The moon is almost at its fullest, but not quite. At first glance, you might believe it full, but when you look closer, you can see that’s not the case.

That is exactly how I feel—on display to the world, looking to be in charge, but if you look closer, you can see the cracks. I know that I need to stop thinking of myself as a puppet and forge myself into the ruler that I want to be, but despite all of Alyx’s and Orion’s work, we still seem no closer to finding who is behind the attacks.

After the disaster of a day, it makes sense that I am unable to sleep. I very nearly lost my life and then found out that one of my biggest supporters within the nobles might be behind the plot to kill me. However, that’s not what is keeping me awake.

I have always known that there is treachery and scheming within the houses, and while I suspect Queen Mother’s involvement, she couldn’t manage this alone, meaning one of the families is behind it.

No, the turbulent, twisting thoughts chasing me from sleep are of the revelation that Alyx was born into a household of nobility. After she dropped that bombshell, she refused to tell us anything more of her past and simply told us we would speak tomorrow when she had a plan for the family. She didn’t disclose which family she was from, how she ended up training as an assassin, or why she broke off from her family in the first place. Nothing. No matter how many ways we asked, she stubbornly stayed silent.

Orion clearly wanted to grill her for more, but from the stubborn set of her jaw, I knew it was no good. There was never a single point where either of us didn’t believe her though, and I think that is a sign in its own right. I know Orion suspected there was more to her than she let on, and it seems he was right.

Sighing, I roll over onto my side and close my eyes, attempting to sleep once more.

However, as soon as my eyes shut, images of her fill my mind—in her dark stealth clothing, her court dresses, that skimpy dressing gown that hardly covers anything. Always her. My mind is consumed by her. My favourite memory of her is the one of her sleeping peacefully, no masks to hide behind, just Alyx.

Groaning, I try to force the images from my mind, but they are replaced by more questions. What would she have been like if she had grown up in her family as she was supposed to? She would have been a force to be reckoned with as a noblewoman. Instead, she has hidden her true identity since she was a child.

It must have taken a lot of trust for her to tell us even that snippet of information. Knowledge like that could be dangerous, and if it got back to her family, it could have disastrous consequences. My heart warms a little at this. She is a difficult woman to get to know, but trusting us with that is a huge step forward. Towards what, I am not sure.

Her knowledge of the nobility makes sense now and has probably been a factor in helping her survive this far. I cannot even imagine how difficult it was to give up everything she has ever known and turn into a killing machine, especially surviving in the Lowers. She did not tell us how old she was when this happened, but we know she was young.

As I lie in my bed, alone and aching with the need to rest, I cannot help but wonder what she would have looked like as a child, or what she was like when she was safe and protected.

This is my last thought before I fall into a deep sleep.

Tears run down the boy’s face as he stares at the boats in the dock. His well-made clothes are muddy and torn, and he is clearly in distress, yet no one stops to help him.

He’s had it with the constant scolding and reprimands from his father and tutors. There is so much to learn, and the pressure on his small shoulders is too much for him to handle. If only he could find the courage to run across the dock and climb onto one of the boats to be taken away. He does not care where he would go, only that he needs to get away.

Far away.

The only thing holding him back is his father. He will be so disappointed in him, and all he ever wanted was to make his father proud. A fresh wave of tears stings his eyes, and he feels as though the pressure is going to tear him apart.

Stay or go?

A whistle rings out, followed by shouts, and he can see one of the ships is about to leave. If he is going to go, now is the time. Taking a single step towards the dock, he prepares to make the run across the open space and hide aboard.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice calls out behind him.

Spinning around, the boy sees a young girl who is watching him intensely. Her hair is like a flame atop her head, and her eyes are wide with childlike concern. She must be a couple of years younger than he is, six or seven perhaps.

His chance to leave is about to disappear, but for some reason, he struggles to take his eyes off the girl in front of him.

“I cannot do it anymore,” he blurts out, shame and pride warring within him. He shouldn’t be speaking to her. He isn’t allowed to speak to anyone who has not been approved by his tutors, yet there is something about her that makes him feel better, and admitting it aloud feels like a band of pressure has been released from his chest.

Unaware of the turmoil in his mind, the girl tilts her head to one side. “Do what?”

“They want me to be king one day. It is too much responsibility.” Dropping his gaze to look at his shoes, he realises that he sounds selfish.

“Whoa. I would like to be king.” The girl takes a step closer, and the boy looks up in surprise. “I would make sure that everyone is safe and that no one goes without food. Have you seen the market in the Lowers?”

She speaks fast, as though she only has limited time to talk, so it takes a couple of moments for him to absorb it all. There is no condemnation in her voice, only childish innocence. He cannot help but think she is right though. He was told about the Lowers and poverty that runs rampant there, although he has never visited it.

“No, I have never been allowed to go to the Lowers,” he replies, internally questioning why he has not been allowed to visit when it will soon be part of his kingdom. “Besides, you can’t be a king. You’re a girl.”

“Oh.” She looks really sad at his comment, and he immediately wishes that he never said anything. “I think that being king must be hard, but an honour to dedicate yourself to the people. That must be great.”

She looks off into the distance, her eyes full of knowledge that one wouldn’t expect to see in a child. Something shifts inside the boy as he takes in her wistful expression. He knows that being king would be an honour, and the hard work he puts in now will contribute to how good of a ruler he will be in the future. He just needed this girl to help him put it into perspective.

“You are right.” Taking a deep breath, he wipes his cheeks of any residual tears and smiles at her with a cheeky wink. “Maybe one day you could marry a king, then you would be queen.”

She laughs, high-pitched and full of glee. “I could marry you! I think we would be a great team.”

The smile she gives him as she takes his hand causes his heart to flip in his chest.

This is it , he thinks to himself. She is the girl I will marry when I am king. I will see to it.

I wake with a start, the dream still fresh in my mind. No, not a dream, a memory.

I forgot my encounter with the little girl who stopped me from doing something stupid that day—the girl I have been looking for ever since, even if I didn’t realise it. My father and Queen Mother tried to set me up with many suitable women over the years, but none of them was ever right. What I didn’t realise was that it wasn’t because they were missing anything, but because they weren’t her.

It has to be her, right? The resemblance is uncanny, and now that I know she is of noble birth, there can be no mistaking it.

Alyx is the girl from my dream, the girl from my past, and she seems to have no idea. She was young at the time, so she probably forgot, much like I did. Will she remember and realise that boy was me?

Smiling up at the ceiling, I cannot quite believe my fortune. Fate has brought us back together and we didn’t even realise it.

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