12. Princess Erralee

twelve

Thankfully, Father was in his study with the door closed. Cigar smoke wafted from under the door, and I'm sure he was deep in his glass of scotch and his staring contest with his fireplace flames. I didn't dare make a sound as I tiptoed past the door. Seeing him again tonight would make this much worse. I swiped away my tears and went looking for King Aswell.

It was time to follow through.

I understood we were in an era of war, and I could never pursue selfish desires. I was here to serve a higher purpose. I now see how Reeves was put into my life to show me that. He selflessly fought in this war, giving a limb for his country, not even knowing if he'd live. I can move to another castle. It would mean I'd have to deny these budding feelings for Reeves . . . but we were always an impossibility anyway.

It was time for my mission to begin.

I found King Aswell exactly where I had predicted in the library, with an open book on his lap and a tablet glowing by his side, opened to a news website. I stood in the doorway watching him for a long moment. His long face was shadowed from looking down. Would I ever be able to look at him with anything more than a cringe? I didn't want my heart to be this hardened. Maybe under different circumstances, that hadn't felt so out of control, I would have felt more comfortable, but everything about this agreement was wrong.

My chin quivered, and I grasped the door frame, steadying myself. There was no turning back now. Had I been brave enough earlier, I could have avoided the recent war surge. Everything felt as if it were riding on me. Swallowing the last of my selfish dreams, I stepped forward into the room.

Just as he turned the page of his book, his gaze shifted. Immediately he rose to his feet. "Erralee, what a nice surprise." When I didn't say anything, because I was too busy choking on my tears, the corners of his mouth bent, and he took a step forward. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, letting my gaze float up in total avoidance as I blinked back the sting in my eyes. I'm such a fool. I'm a princess in a castle with everything I could ever want. I fought back spoiled tears. Tears that said I didn't want to help my people live. It was really that simple. I had a chance to save lives. It wasn't about me. Placing a hand on my chest, my throat heated as if it was preparing for the lies. "I heard about the ambush."

"Yes. It's getting close to home." His chin raised thoughtfully into a melancholy expression. "Your father and I have been studying strategies." The lines on his forehead caved deeper, but they didn't look unattractive. Just weary. Suddenly, I understood him and why he was the way he was, with his books and his serious ways. He was smart. A leader who had built one of the strongest armies, and he was prepared to help my father. He was the kind of man history books were filled with.

I bit my lip, ready to speak, but my mouth wouldn't open. Every nerve in my body stood in alarm, screaming at me that something was off. This offer was too good to be true, and it wasn't my path.

"You're shaking," King Aswell said after I failed to say anything. His chin dipped sympathetically.

"I'm scared."

He stepped forward, erasing most of the space between us. Lowering his gaze, He trapped my eyes and a spiral of fear ripped through my body. "You don't have to be afraid." Opening his hand, he reached out to me.

My feet froze to the floor, which was the best thing that could have happened, because they stopped me from fleeing. I had finally run out of fighting spirit. "And if I don't love you right away—" My voice dropped off because the air from my chest gave out. I wasn't prepared to feel I was dying when I was trying to save lives.

His eyes held mine, and in the soft glow of the library, they were warm and kind. I held onto that as the hope that someday, I might remember this moment and laugh at how silly I had been. I am marrying a king, after all. It had to work out . . .

"One day at a time," he whispered.

I swallowed again, but the knot didn't budge. It made taking a deep breath impossible, and I was getting lightheaded. He reached his hand out further, brushing his finger with mine. I held my breath as I slipped my hand in his. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on each of my fingers. His lips felt dry and scratched my fingertips, but I didn't stiffen. Instead, I felt a tiny bit of relief as I was now finally confident this war could be won.

We would have peace.

That's the only thing that mattered.

He let my hand go, and he smiled at me warmly. "Can you call me Jon?"

"Jon," I echoed, barely getting the word over the knot in my throat. It definitely didn't roll out smoothly and stuck in my heart like a giant hardened spitball. I took one more swallow. This time it was more of a gulp that finally broke past the lump. I was mostly numb by now, enough so I could speak about my fate. "I will marry you, Jon."

His eyes moistened in the corners in a way that surprised me. "I promise to do everything I can to make you the happiest woman in the world. Our country will be proud to have you as Queen."

I believed he spoke the truth, but I felt nothing but impending doom.

My path was marked.

"It's late in the evening," I squeaked out. "If it's okay, I'd rather we chat more in the morning when I'm fresh."

"Of course." He dipped his head, bringing his lips down and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of my head. "Goodnight."

I forced a tight-lipped smile, feeling awkward that I couldn't be more affectionate, and spun on my heel. I prayed he didn't catch the glisten of tears in the corners of my eyes as I hurried back to my room where I cried most of the night.

When I got up the next day, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Maybe I'd cried all my tears? I sure didn't get any sleep, but it was as if a security blanket had wrapped me tightly, taming my fears. The war was going to end. I could start my day with a clear head.

I slipped into a beige dress. One with flowy bell sleeves that cinched into a high waist. Beige felt safe for today. It wasn't an overly optimistic color, but it was not grieving like black. Just beige. It fit my mood perfectly.

As I descended the stairs on my way to breakfast, the scent of bacon grease met my nose, making my stomach rumble. I never ate a bite for dinner last night, and my appetite was piqued. It had been a long time since my father had a hog butchered. He was obviously celebrating. This was a good thing, me getting married. Positive things could happen now. My hand glided over the smooth railing as I quickened my descent down the grand staircase. I was ready for things to get better.

The memory of Jon kissing my head last night pulled to the front of my mind. It was a simple gesture, but the sweetness wasn't lost. I understood how awkward this had to be for him. Perhaps, I'd been too hard on him?

As I passed by the front room, I peeked out the window and noticed that, once again, Weston was not at his post. He rarely took a vacation, but when he did, someone else was dutifully assigned to my watch. Nobody had said anything.

Has Father fired him to save money? He cut Margarette's hours . . .

Shaking my head, I pushed the thought out of my mind, though there remained a niggling in the back of my brain. It would make sense when I left the palace, Weston's job wouldn't be needed since he was my personal guard. Will Father let him go? That would be awful for him, because he helped to provide for his single mother and little sister.

Father would never do that.

But a week ago, I would never have thought my father would sell my field, or force me into a marriage. Getting rid of my guard was logical at this point, especially since something wasn't adding up.

For the last three days, I'd been parading around without any security, and no one had said anything . . . Why would that be unless they were trying not to draw attention to his absence? A cold wave of fear washed over me, and suddenly it all made sense. Father let Weston go. Anger bubbled in my stomach. I was one of the few people who really understood how much he needed his job. Plus, he had been the most loyal friend I'd ever had.

How dare Father do this!

Forgetting all my ladylike manners, I stormed through the hall to Father's study, making as much noise as possible. I found the door open, and he was inside, alone. I charged to the center of the room, planted my feet, and steeled my gaze on his. "Father, where is Weston?"

He didn't flinch, or even raise his gaze. He simply scrolled up on his tablet as he read the morning news. "Why do you ask?"

"You know why I ask." I narrowed my gaze, chewing on my lip as I studied him. His lack of rebuttal confirmed what I had presumed. "You laid him off because I'm leaving the palace. You are trying to save money at his expense, aren't you?"

"No." He raised his gaze to me, parting his lips, but I wouldn't let him speak.

"Don't cover it up," I bit out. "I've never been allowed anywhere without a guard, and for the past three days, nobody has said boo about me running all over without one. Considering we've never had higher security alerts, something is wrong. What is going on?" Sharply parking my hand on my hip, I was ready for answers. I'd never spoken to my father this way, but I had reached my limit.

"He didn't want you to worry." Father crossed his hands in front of him, leaning forward, which was out of character for him.

"Worry about where he will get his next meal from, since you laid him off?" I spit back haughtily.

"Honey," Father's voice lowered, so much so, I had to watch his lips to make out the words. "Weston volunteered to fight on the frontline."

A sarcastic laugh stumbled in my throat. He was joking. He had to be. Weston wasn't a fighter. Father didn't laugh. He didn't even crack a dimple. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been thrown into a brick wall. I reached for the nearest chair, stumbling forward. Images of sweet Weston fighting flashed in my mind. Instantly nauseous and heartsick, I fell on my knees before I made it to the chair. I wailed as if I had been stabbed in the chest. "Why!"

Father pushed back his chair, rounded the desk, and got on a knee. Placing one hand on my back, he held it firmly in silence. I couldn't stomach his muteness.

His silence was a lie!

He didn't have to tell me the frontline was running on barebones. I didn't need to hear it; frankly I couldn't stomach it.

"He had wanted to volunteer for a while, but he couldn't leave you. Since he knew you'd be taken care of by King Aswell, he felt it was his duty."

"You're a liar," I growled through gritted teeth from my place on the floor. "You promised me this war would end if I agreed to this marriage. You didn't have to let Weston go. King Aswell had backup." My breath was failing. I struggled to push out the following words, taking long breaths between each one, "You did this to me as punishment."

Father's eyes were dark and unflinching. "He asked to go."

"You're the king. He is your soldier. You own him." My voice was down to a whisper, barely making an appearance at all. I had to speak my peace, or I knew I'd regret it. Someone had to stand up to Father. "Last night, I pledged my future to a man I can't stand so this country can prosper, and you lied to me."

"He asked to go," Father echoed with a piercing stare.

I bit back words that I would regret, and clambered to my feet. I didn't want him to suspect anything, but in my silence, I vowed to be done with this dynasty. I would not be loyal to Father. I scampered down the hall, tripping over my own feet. My world blurred, as the tears slid down my face, and though tears can sometimes trickle, these tears were heavy and hot. The burn fueling my legs to run faster.

I didn't have any possessions I cared to pack as I ran down the servants' quarters and out the back. The absence of Weston following me, scolding me to wait up, ripped my heart open. Will I ever see him again? Outside, the first snowflakes of an early storm had started to flutter, landing on my already soaked lashes, but I blinked them away. It was a freak snowstorm, a warning that nature was trying to fight back, too. The world could crumble around me at this point and swallow me up, and I wouldn't care.

I paced forward to the men standing on guard.

I already knew the outcome, but found myself frantically searching for Weston.

He wasn't at his post.

He wasn't coming up the driveway.

A giant gap remained between the two guards where he usually stood. It was an odd display of reverence by his fellow soldiers that split the flood gates wide open. How long would there be a gap? Would it always be there?

What if he dies . . .

I balled my hand into a fist and pounded it on my heart. This pain . . . I'd rather die. Father's betrayal. Weston's absence. It all circled my head, and I was so sick of it all. I did my part! It didn't work because they lied!

A rustle of leaves from behind stole my attention.

I held my breath and turned, praying by some miracle it was Weston coming from the shadows and this was some sick joke. Please be a joke . . .

No Weston.

It was Ruenella, my beautiful sister. Not a hair out of place, and her makeup was flawless. Her perfectly lipstick- stained lips were pinched as she appeared to be holding her breath, too.

"You knew?" I accused my sister. Not because I didn't love her but because of our loving sisterly bond. My heart rattled in my chest. I felt so betrayed.

Ruenella blew out her breath. "You're in shock." She paused, taking a deep swallow. "Take some time to think about it before you do something irrational. If you leave, Father will disown you, and you'll have nothing."

"I understand that." I held her gaze without flinching. "I understand exactly what I'm losing." I had made up my mind. Father was using everyone as pawns. I barely saw this before it was too late. I wouldn't be one of his pawns.

It'd be easier if I tore off in a fit and didn't think about it until years had passed. Being the younger, more daring sister, I often did things without thinking. And like perfect birth-order rites of passage, Ruenella was always there, forewarning my regrets. "If you leave," Ruenella's jaw quivered as she pressed the issue, "Father will banish you, and anyone who remains in contact with you."

I grabbed her hand and squeezed my fingers between her thin fingers that always felt so much frailer than mine. "Nobody, not even Father, can banish me from you. I'll find a way."

The quiet that comes with heartbreak seeped into our hearts, punctuated by tears in the corner of each of our eyes, as we stood feet cemented to the stone driveway, doing nothing more than staring at each other. Our eyes understood to take in every detail, so our brains would memorize and know what to do with the passage of time. Our hearts understood even the best-case scenario meant it could be years before we'd see each other again. Definitely not before the war was over, if there was even a country left by then.

Maybe not even in this lifetime.

"Do you know where you'll go?" Ruenella whispered, also failing to stifle her sobs.

"I don't, but I'll figure it out." I took a few steps away from my dear sister. I couldn't risk getting caught. I needed to move. I also couldn't bear the thought of seeing Mother disappointed. Please don't see me run, Mother, I prayed. She wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't be able to hold my tongue. I'd say so many things I would regret.

"I love you," I called over my shoulder as I powered my legs straight into the forest.

I had no idea where I was going, but it would be far away, because I couldn't risk getting caught betraying Father.When I neared the edge of the forest, I glanced back, ready to take in my home for the last time. I loved my home. An enormous and majestic palace, it towered over the horizon, with lush spires that nearly reached the clouds. In the light of day, it drank in the sun's rays, making all the gardens flourish. It had been a glorious place to grow up, and a light to the entire kingdom.

My mind turned intrinsically, as I always assumed I was also a light to the kingdom.Even as a small child, my presence inspired a reverent silence from any size crowd. A hush would wash over my entourage, and even the birds would stop to watch my lilting steps. It was as if I had been the last crown for a kingdom in ruin, and now I'm getting banished.

I understood the betrayal I chose far too deeply.

I pumped my legs harder, knowing Ruenella would cover for me, even if it meant her own punishment. Snow was organically swirling around me now, and I opened my mouth wide, sucking in all the crisp oxygen to power me onward.

A part of my heart constricted out an echo, saying, return home before you have regrets.

The other part turned to stone, declaring it wasn't home anymore.

Regrets are a weakness.

I will not be weak.