6. Aries

6

ARIES

I t wasn't easy leaving Paige in my bed half-naked and gorgeous while she slept, but being back in the training ring with Leo is satisfying—albeit in a much different way. We've been at it long enough that my muscles scream in protest, but I don't stop. I can't. Not when there's so much at stake.

I've already sent messages both to the council and to my generals. There's no time to waste, and if I'm going to restore us, I have to begin immediately. The training helps pass the time while I wait for a response. Not to mention letting off steam after yesterday's failure with Constantine—a vengeance I plan to take as soon as possible. Right after I slaughter the horde.

"You're going too hard," Leo complains.

He's not entirely wrong. I've been picturing orc faces instead of my brother's, and I've been fighting with everything I've got since the moment we began.

We've gained an audience by now. I wipe sweat from my brow as I survey the guards and soldiers who've gathered to watch.

"We'll handle the orcs," Leo assures me.

I grunt. "We haven't won yet," I counter.

He sighs, resigned. "Ready to go again?"

I grunt, and Leo attacks.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I counter his first swing. I take a step toward him, bring my axe up inside his guard, and angle the shaft so that the axe points at his neck.

"You would be dead," I say. "Again."

"You sound far too gleeful about that," he mutters, stepping back.

"We can switch over to lances if you like," I offer.

"You always best me with those things."

"I merely want you to become better so you don't die when the fighting is real," I tell him grimly.

"I…"

"You should have continued your training without me," I add, crossing over to the collection of weapons laid out on the table for us to choose from. I pick up a lance and hold it out to Leo as I place my axe down.

"How do you know I didn't?" Leo grumbles.

"Trust me. There's more rust on you than…" I trail off as I sense my mate. She's standing on a balcony on the second floor of the castle with Mag and Blossom. I wave to her, and she blows me a kiss before they head inside. I hope she's settling in well enough without me to help her, but I can't bring myself to call it quits for the day.

Part of me wants to fly out to the front lines. To offer assistance to the brave soldiers currently fighting in my name. Or better yet, demand the council even acknowledge that I've returned so I can re-take my rightful place as general of my army. So far, they've been completely silent.

Playing stupid fucking games.

But I can't afford to let my emotions rule me on either front. We need a plan. And for that, I need a clear head.

I select another lance and nod to Leo. We've just moved into position when Ferdinand, the royal secretary, approaches. He's been with us since Leo and I were kids, and his face is a welcome sight now.

"Ferdinand, good to see you," I tell him.

"And you, Sire." He clears his throat. "Forgive me, Your Highnesses," he says with a proper bow. "The Council summons Prince Aries immediately."

Immediately.

After not even bothering to acknowledge my return yesterday.

I nod to him and hand Leo my lance. "Thank you, I'll come at once."

" We'll come at once." I'm not surprised at all when Leo returns both lances to the table and falls into step beside me, Bingo at his side.

"You ready for this?" Leo asks as we walk.

I snort.

My parents used to bring Leo and me to meetings when we were kids. We were never allowed to talk or ask questions. We were just supposed to watch and listen and learn and keep our mouths shut. Since we were both never good at the latter, we were promptly removed and barred until we got older.

By the time we were teens, Leo had already veered away from any interest in the political side of princedom. I attended the meetings alone and then vented to my brother afterward.

Neither one of us wants to deal with these pompous men but according to my mother, they are the only thing standing in the way of full-scale counter-attacks against the enemy—and my ascension to the throne.

Ferdinand escorts us to the council meeting room, bows before opening the door, and calls out, "The princes have arrived."

I enter the room first, Leo right behind me. Ferdinand shuts the door behind us but not before Bingo slips through. Ferdinand looks scandalized, but Leo holds up a hand to halt him from retrieving the hellhound.

"It's okay. The beast is with us," Leo tells him and shuts the door with a click.

The council members have already claimed their seats, but they stand as I walk around the massive table to where my father once sat at its head. The king's chair is much more ornamental than the others with its high back carved with the image of a soaring dragon breathing fire.

Rather than sit in the empty seat, I stand behind it, my message just as clear. "Thank you for seeing me," I say, forcing the polite greeting.

On my right, Bran Beaumont, a bear shifter, meets my gaze. He's always had a rugged appearance and a muscular build. Today, he looks fiercer and more imposing than I remember. "Your Highness, we want to officially welcome you home." He frowns and then adds, "And we would like to know where exactly you've been."

On his other side, Thorne Davenport nods. The aging fae's dark hair remains unkempt, and the jagged scar running down his rounded cheek is not from the war but from an accident decades ago that he never speaks of. Rumor has it he tried to steal another man's wife, but it's never been confirmed.

"Is that right?" I ask.

Several of the men murmur in sharp agreement.

"As a matter of fact," Thorne says, "I believe this council deserves to know why you left in the first place, abandoning your kingdom when it needed you most."

More murmurs.

My temper rises swift and indignant. "It appears I am not going to receive a warm welcome from my own advisors."

"Welcome you?" echoes Porthew, a gray-haired man at the far end who served as one of my father's personal advisers before heading up the council after his death. "We are at war because of your desertion!"

"Watch how you speak to your king," I warn.

"You aren't our king yet," Thorne says darkly.

The fact that he dares utter such disrespect speaks volumes about the power they think they wield.

Leo clears his throat, and I glance at him. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, clearly warning me to keep my cool. It takes all my self-control to do so.

"I did not leave of my own free will," I say, my words clipped.

"Are you saying you were kidnapped?" Porthew asks, his tone somewhere between mocking and mystified.

"No," I say on a sigh that does little to curb my impatience. "Magic, foreign to this land and more powerful than anything I'd encountered before, drew me to another world where I met my true mate."

Their expressions don't ease at the mention of my mate, though. If anything, they look more closed off. In this moment, I'm glad I didn't bring Paige to this meeting. It would only hurt her.

"Ah. So, you admit that you took a mate from another world?" Bran presses.

My eyes narrow as my patience slips. "That is what I just said. And why should it matter where she's from if the goddess has chosen her for me?" I don't give them a chance to respond before adding, "I would have thought you'd be relieved to see my duty fulfilled. I can ascend the throne. Strengthen our kingdom. End this wretched war."

"Not so fast," Porthew says. "We've discussed all possible scenarios."

"There is only one scenario?—"

"And we've voted," Porthew finishes smoothly.

I glance at Leo beside me, but my brother is staring straight ahead. He's stiffened, and Bingo looks ready to charge. I follow my brother's gaze to see a robed figure lingering near the far wall. A maid? Since when are servants allowed inside during official meetings?

"Whatever you've voted on, doing so without the ruling monarch among you is a violation of your power." I look out over the gathering. "Look, war is an emotional business," I say, trying another tack. "But there are protocols in place. Laws. Tradition. I'm here now, so let's figure out how to move forward. Together."

Galen Chamberlain wearily rubs his forehead. His hair has been thinning for years, but what strands remain are as white as the snowy owl he can shift into. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure that's possible."

"And why is that?" I nearly growl.

"You aren't recognized as the heir anymore."

"I beg your pardon," I growl out. "I am to be king?—"

"You abandoned Astronia." The robed figure steps forward into the light from a window. Slender hands reach up to push the hood back, revealing a familiar face.

Esma.

"Why he left doesn't matter," she continues. "Leo was loyal. Leo is strong, and he's proven himself capable. Our wedding never should have been called off for this… pretender."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Leo says, taking the words right out of my mouth.

Bingo lets out a low growl.

"You have no business here," I tell her.

"I was offered the position my father vacated when he died two months ago," she tells me.

I glance at Leo. "Is this true?"

He nods tightly, somehow looking both remorseful and angry at the same time. I want to ask why he didn't mention this before, but it will have to wait until we're alone.

"And where is the queen then?" I demand. "The council cannot meet or vote without the ruling monarch present."

"The queen vacated her seat." Porthew's glee is unmistakable, and it takes all my self-control not to punch it off his face.

"Why in the hell would she do that?"

Leo clears his throat. "Protocol," he says bleakly. "She did so yesterday morning before… If you hadn't returned, I would be king by now—and have her seat. But only if she vacated it first."

Fuck.

I'd interrupted too late after all.

"Do you want this?" I ask Leo.

"What?" He looks startled.

"Do you want to be king?"

"With her?" He jerks a thumb at Esma, clearly not caring if she hears him. "Absolutely not." He shudders.

"Just checking," I mutter.

I turn to face Esma, my blood running hot as my dragon's fury swells. "What you suggest—removing me as heir and propping up your own ruler—is blasphemy to the crown and to my father's law. Council positions are for serving the people at the pleasure of the king and queen. Nothing about you gives me any pleasure."

Esma squeaks, clearly insulted.

"In the absence of a mated king and queen on our throne, the council has had to take on the responsibilities and step up for the people of Astronia," Thorne says with an unmistakable note of haughtiness in his words. "We have made up for your shortcomings and thus have adopted new laws that allow us to govern while you, quite frankly, run off to who knows where."

I snarl, leaning across Bran far enough that Thorne flinches as I say, "You may have voted me out, but I will rip your tongue out for disrespect if you speak to me like that again."

"May I see the list of governing laws you've adopted?" Leo asks sweetly.

Silence follows.

"Well?" I demand, my voice booming. "Where is this so-called list of laws that have given you the power to remove me as heir?"

"Here." Corian, one of the younger members, hops up and pushes a scroll into Leo's hands. Then he rushes back to his seat next to Porthew. The old man looks livid, but he doesn't say a word as Leo opens the scroll.

"Interesting," Leo says, scanning the document.

"What now?"

"You have indeed managed to pass a law that gives you the power to revoke an heir for abandonment." I start to interrupt, but Leo stops me. "You did, however, fail to remove the law that states anyone of the royal bloodline may challenge you all to a fight in order to win your seat."

"Excuse me?" Thorne asks.

Porthew spews a string of words that end in him coughing.

Esma puts her hands on her hips. "You're lying."

"Law number four-eighty-one," Leo says, tossing the scroll onto the table. "It's very small print. And very old. My father wrote it into the original council agreement as a measure of protection against corruption. It cannot be voted on or changed without dissolving the council entirely."

"You can't possibly remember a law that obscure," Thorne says, eyes narrowed.

Leo shrugs. "Check if you don't believe me."

Thorne looks at Corian pointedly, who jumps up and hurries to the table behind me where the law books are kept. Drawers are opened and closed before a thud sounds as he pulls out the book and scans for proof. A moment later, Corian makes a sound of protest and then whirls.

"He's right," Corian says quietly.

Thorne glares at Leo again, who merely says, "My father was probably worried about people like you taking advantage. Anyway, a law is a law."

I fight the urge to smile as Esma scowls—and falls silent, for once.

The others have gone quiet too. I catch Thorne's eye, and he quickly looks away. Clearly, none of them like the idea of being challenged to a fight with me.

It's the first smart thought they've had all day.

Myantha Irvine lifts her hand. "If I may…" The female snow leopard waits for my nod of approval—it's the first sign of deference any of them has shown. "A compromise for the heir to earn back our vote of confidence."

"I'm listening," Bran says grudgingly.

"Let him lead the Astronian army against the orcs," Myantha says. "Fight and win this war for us. On his skill and strategy alone. Prove that he's worthy to lead our people. When we've won, he can have his wedding and his crown."

The council members exchange dubious glances as they consider it.

"I don't know," Thorne says. "Our vote is our word. If we go back on it, what message does that send to the people?"

"I could always challenge you to a fight for your seat," I threaten. "How about this afternoon? I'm free if you are."

Thorne's eyes widen. "I, uh…" He looks to Bran for help but gets none.

"Porthew," I call. "How about you? Willing to fight me to the death for your seat?"

The old man scowls. "Let him earn it," he says at last.

Myantha looks back at me, satisfaction lining her cat-like gaze. "It's settled then. Your Highness, the Astronian army is yours to command."

Esma huffs, but Myantha's words are apparently final as the rest of the group begins to rise.

The meeting is over.

I've been offered a single shot at regaining my throne from assholes who shouldn't have had the power to take it from me in the first place. I'm still debating on the fight instead when Esma marches up to me.

"This isn't over," she hisses.

Bingo snarls at her and lunges, but Leo holds him back. Barely.

"She's not worth it," Leo murmurs, petting the hound while staring the flamingo shifter down.

With one final glare at us, Esma whirls and stomps out. Bingo continues to curl back his upper lip until the door shuts behind her.

I look down at the hellhound. "I know exactly how you feel."