The luxurious room was empty apart from Arkansas and Stella. The room was lit only by candles, which shed the king’s face in fleeing shadows. He was as dazzling as ever, his pale grey eyes not leaving hers while he took a sip of the exquisite wine. They sat face to face, eating dinner in his private quarters.
She had not left his quarters since he had first taken her here, even though she had gathered the courage several times to suggest that they leave. The king was adamant, however, and much more eccentric than she had previously thought him to be, even with all the strange rumours going around. Their time had been spent with him trying to teach her all manners of artful pursuits. He was very fond of painting, and he was a true master at it, his pencil effortlessly drawing complicated patterns and images to the smallest of details.
They had also played strange games he claimed to have invented himself, one of which consisted of putting a small and heavy ball into a hole with a strangely formed wooden club.
And all this made her feel desired and beautiful and important. A king was giving her days of his time, teaching her personally. And although he was away occasionally, that only left her the time to improve her newly taught skills. But even so, she had a life. She had friends and a brother, dearest of all. She had sent him several messages through servants and his lack of response worried her to no end. She missed him, she missed his fervour and his passion and the look of determined devotion in his eyes when he gazed at her. It was a look full of kindness and warmth, a guarantee that he would always be there for him. He had in the past been absent for times, but never without letting her know where to.
And then there was the other concern. Arkansas had nonchalantly told her that he had broken off the betrothal to the princess of the kingdom on the isle in the north, for her. There had been no end to her joy at first until she had realised the consequences. To many, she was now an obstacle to a crucial royal marriage. In other words, she had entered the political game of intrigues at the court. She was genuinely afraid for her own life, and even more so for Arthan’s. She knew that he would always position himself between her and her enemies whoever they might be, which would put him in even more danger than herself.
“Your mind is elsewhere.” The king suddenly commented, looking curious.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” She said with a sigh. “Were you saying something?”
He looked amused. “No, though I didn’t know you were that distracted. Tell me.”
She gave him a pained look, feeling sorry for sharing such concerns over what was supposed to be a romantic dinner. “Do you think… that it was wise to break the betrothal to the princess?” She ventured timidly. She had wondered a few times, whether he truly did choose her over a real royal princess, or if it was an excuse to break an unwanted betrothal.
“Wise?” He shrugged. “Perhaps not. But it was what I wanted, and I am king.”
“Are you not afraid? They might declare war.” The Angles had sailed up the Lameine a few times to threaten and blockade Parth.
He laughed. “What will they do, send a flock of sheep to invade? They are harmless, Stella. A small and isolated kingdom. It was Hadrian’s idea; I didn’t care much at the time. Then I found you, a woman more beautiful than any princess.”
He wasn’t taking this seriously at all, she realised, it was all on a whim. She had been overthinking it, though it did show that he was at least very fond of her. The thought made her blush stupidly, even after all they had done together. “Oh darling, are you only interested in my beauty?” She inquired with a faint smirk. Then she bashed herself mentally for the cheeky question.
“At first yes. Then I found your music captivating. And finally, I grew to love your awkward and naïve cuteness, as well as that complete transparency of yours. You couldn’t lie even if your life depended on it.” He said, laughing to himself.
She was unsure whether to take it as a compliment or not, but his smile told her that he meant well. Or maybe he was making fun of her? She couldn’t tell. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome. Your turn.” He said, resting his head on his fist and staring at her expectantly.
“My turn?” She repeated confusingly.
“I told you what I liked about you. Now, you will tell me what you like about me. Or are you only here because I am king?” He explained with a smirk.
“No, I…” She tried to quickly assemble her thoughts. “You are enthralling, intriguing. Mysterious. I guess I am drawn to you.” She admitted, embarrassed beyond words.
His threw his head back and laughed. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“Describe what?” She repeated, but his attention was suddenly elsewhere. His head was turned to the balcony, the place they had kissed first. He rose from the table and crossed the room, opening the two doors up wide.
“My king?” She said curiously and followed him. They found an eagle sitting on the balustrade, majestic and proud but with a nasty wound along its back, a mess of bloody and dishevelled feathers.
“Ah.” Arkansas let out in understanding. He walked over to it and strangely, it didn’t fly away. It did not even seem alarmed, even as he reached out to touch it. He gently caressed it over the back and folded wings, and then she gasped. The feathers had grown out and the wound had disappeared, leaving only old blood. “There you go, little one.” He said softly as the eagle set off with a cry that seemed grateful to her.
He smiled humorously when he noticed her baffled expression. “It was a gift from the Almighty, Stella. These hands of mine can work miracles if need be.”
“That’s incredible!” She blurted out and took his hand in hers. It was covered in traces of blood, but she stared at it like she expected to find a sign of the divine. The hand was normal, but one of his rings somehow caught her eye instead. It was a golden, with a strange inscription on it and with a square ruby encrusted in it. Her eyes were drawn to it like it was screaming out for her very soul. She shuddered and let go of his hand. “How come people do not know of this?” She muttered in amazement, staring up at his eyes.
He tilted his head like the answer was evident. “Only a chosen few can know, or every sick person in the continent would come running for aid… Parth would be swamped.”
“Of course.” She said, a little flustered at her reaction, which was precisely what he was trying to avoid by not telling everybody. Then she hid a smile. She had truly found someone special, someone, who had judged her worthy of this immense secret.
“But enough of me.” He said, guiding her back to the dinner-table “I understand that you have been trying to contact your brother.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be here…” She frantically began but he raised his hand, signalling for her to stop.
“I have no desire to stop you from seeing your brother. Unfortunately, he is not in the capital these days.” Her heart sunk, just as she had gotten hope that she would see him. “However, I assure you that I will send for him as soon as he gets back.”
She smiled gratefully, trying to hide her disappointment. “Thank you.”
Arkansas gestured for the table, while all the candles suddenly dimmed a bit out of the blue. Was this him too? “Let us eat.” He said as she took place again, though she hadn’t recovered completely from her bewilderment.
She eyed him carefully while they ate, a silence taking place between them. Had he been born with healing hands? Or was it something the Almighty had given him when he was crowned to be king? She was about to ask, when she noticed that he seemed lost in his thoughts, considering something indecisively. She decided to inquire. He hadn’t seemed annoyed in the slightest by her previous questions.
“Whose mind is wandering now, my king?” She pointed out softly.
He looked at her tranquilly, but hesitantly. Then he smiled as if finding his indecisiveness ridiculous. He opened his arms theatrically. For a split-moment, his expression seemed insane, with wide-open eyes and a broad smile. “Well, Stella, I have other gifts.”
She was stunned. “How so?”
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Suddenly all the candles went out, pitch-black darkness descending upon the room.
“Arkansas?” She murmured slowly, her eyes trying to pierce through the ominous darkness. She tried to keep herself from shuddering. “Arkansas you’re scaring me.” She said as she began rising from her seat, fumbling in the dark.
Suddenly hands fell firmly on her shoulders and she yelped in surprise. The candles were lit again, and she turned her head to find Arkansas grinning behind her. “I’m sorry, did I surprise you, darling?”
“How did you do that?”
“With nothing but a thought.” He raised his brows suggestively. “I have been chosen by the Almighty, after all.”
She frowned. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I am!” He agreed, laughing again.
“But how…” She let out, not willing to let the matter go. His evasive and playful behaviour was beginning to get on her nerves.
But he clapped his hands loudly, and she shut her mouth as a bunch of musicians immediately entered, carrying different and exotic instruments. “Start with something… exuberantly merry!” He exclaimed with a smile, looking childishly pleased by his own choice of words.
She couldn’t help it, she smiled at him in a mix of amusement and exasperation.
It was only later that evening when she was falling asleep beside him, that the thought occurred to her. What if he was… a sorcerer? The kind her brother hunted. The thought alone made her shiver, and she discarded immediately.
If he was a sorcerer, then it was simply proof that not all of them was bad. He was making her happy, after all, albeit in his particular way.
*
Arthan breathed out, a stone lifting from his heart as a turn of the path revealed Parth to them.
“Are you relieved? You will see you sister again.” Parceval commented, sharply noticing his reaction at the sight of the city.
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” He explained, without looking away. “If she didn’t get my message, then she is probably worried sick.”
“Really? This can hardly be the first time you two are separated.” Parceval said dubiously.
“And yet she always worries.” Arthan let out with a faint smile.
“Well, at least we are returning in style.”
Arthan glanced at Hadrian, who rode ahead of them at the centre of the column. He had taken a whole company of soldiers with him, and Hector rode behind him as always, a silent but watchful guardian. He wasn’t as big as Hadrian, but he was a strong man with a vigilant eye, his figure completely covered in armour. A bit behind, Lavance rode in his usual relaxed manner. His long hair hung freely behind him, waving with each step of the horse. Arthan couldn't have found a worthier company in the kingdom, perhaps not even in the continent.
They entered the city under the curious stares of people. There were even cheers as people recognized the prince, the protector of the kingdom. He was a man who had earned the respect and admiration of the people. Lavance's face too was quite famous, as he had won quite a few tournaments.
They rode to the isle of the palace and abandoned the horses in the courtyard, the stable boys rushing to take care of them. The soldiers left for the barracks, meaning that Hadrian was accompanied only by his silvered knights. And although Arthan desired nothing more than to leave to see his sister, he had to wait for Hadrian to dismiss him. And he had also promised to inform Geraldine of his return, he reminded himself.
But for now, he was stuck following Hadrian, who was resolutely marching through the hallways of the palace to the throne room. Guards and servants had already departed to let the king know of his arrival and soon, the whole court would assemble. Including the delegation from Anglearth.
Arthan made sure to look only vigilant and professional as they entered the Hall containing the throne. It was large, with majestic pillars carrying the sides and showing a way to the throne. It was not the same as in the ballroom, this one was more sumptuous and made to impress and intimidate whomever the king was facing. It was made of carefully carved oak plated in gold and with a wide backrest that reached for the ceiling.
They entered, Hadrian, stopping before the throne and crossing his arms. The hall was slowly filling with nobles, lords and ladies alike. They all placed themselves behind the columns, leaving Hadrian and his knights to stand alone in front of the throne. Royal Guards were positioned at all the entrances as well as behind the throne in numbers, watchfully investigating all in the room. Arms were allowed even in the king’s presence, as long as they remained in their sheaths and many men had swords at their sides.
Then another large company entered. At their front walked a short and balding man clad sumptuously in red and gold. The colours of Anglearth. Behind him, there were young noblemen who were probably knights, though they were unarmed and clothed only in silk. Foreigners had no right for weapons in the royal palace.
“Prince Hadrian.” The man said and bowed his head. “A pleasure to meet you, despite the unsavoury circumstances. I am Lord Melington of Anglearth.”
Hadrian bowed his head respectfully in return, though not as deeply. “Well-met. I understand His Majesty has broken his promise?”
“That is so,” Melington said, his brows gravely furrowed. “It is a grave offence that my king will not take kindly, I’m afraid.”
Hadrian nodded understandingly. “I will see what I can do.”
“I only hope that the king will come to see reason.”
Hadrian’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your words, it is still the king that you speak off.”
“Forgive my manners.” The man said with an indifferent smile. “But it is common knowledge that you are the real force here, Hadrian.”
Hadrian didn’t get the chance to reply, a herald finally announced the king’s arrival.
Arkansas came out from behind the throne in an impatient stride and installed himself comfortably, paying no heed to all the eyes on him. Then his pale and serene eyes found Hadrian’s. The prince fell on one knee, so did his knights.
“You have returned.” The king remarked; his tone uncaring and bored. “Why is that?”
“Your Majesty…” Hadrian said. His face was carefully neutral, a clear sign of the frustration that swelled within him. “If we could…”
“Is this about the betrothal?” Arkansas scoured the nobles until he found Lord Melington and his company. “My decision is final, don’t feel obligated to stay.” He said with irritation, waving them away. “I have an announcement though.”
He stood up and took a step forward, waving for someone behind him to come forth. It was a woman who came out from behind the throne, clothed in a priceless dress and covered in jewels. No doubt that hours had been spent on her hair and appearance and the crowd stared avidly, many trying to recognize the king’s potential bride, the one he had favoured over the Angles’ princess. But it was not her beauty that made Arthan suddenly leap to his feet from his position on a knee. It was his sister, standing there with the king and meeting his eyes nervously.
“Stella?” He muttered in disbelief.
Arkansas flashed a cocky smile. “This is Stella Karendis, my new betrothed.”
Lord Melington walked forward, shaking his head and with an even deeper frown than before. “Anglearth will not stand for this humiliation. You have committed a grave mistake.” He turned on his heel and walked out, followed by his men.
Arkansas’ eyes met Hadrian’s, with smugness. He didn’t look the least regretful. There was an amused twinkle in his eyes though, as if he was enjoying a spectacle. “Is there anything else, prince?”
“No, Your Majesty.” Hadrian pressed out through his teeth. The king had likely just thrown them into war, but Hadrian and his men would be the ones to fight it.
“Then this no longer requires my presence.” He said uncourtly and returned from where they had come with his soon-to-be bride, leaving a baffled Arthan still standing in the middle of the hall.
Immediately as the king left, the nobles began loudly discussing the repercussions of this turn of events. There were curses and complaints, but also excitement and anxiousness. Arthan would perhaps have felt grateful for the opportunity of proving his worth on a real battlefield, but that feeling had been completely blown away by Stella’s appearance at the king’s side.
His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out how and when. The music lessons where she had seen the king. The cold hand of fear locked around his heart. Was she even doing this willingly? No-one could refuse a king. Knowing her, she was probably more afraid for his sake, of what he would do. She was always talking about how to pay him back for all she felt she owed him. But she was family, there was no debt. Everything he did out of his own free will. She had no other family, she didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.
Perhaps this was her way of realizing the dream, and of protecting him. As the queen, she could have immense influence and power. Didn’t she realise the danger of it? Didn’t she realise that she risked being discarded whenever the king found another girl to his liking? Or the risk to be murdered by people who felt she was in the way?
He cursed under his breath. This was terrible, he had lost all control. Even if he somehow managed to pull off the murder of the king, then they would both die for that. Entire families were executed for king-slaying. Even if they did let her live, then she would be shunned. He clenched his jaws and his hands tightened into fists. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself from killing the king if he was hurting her.
Later, as he was brooding alone in his room trying to figure out how to get her out of the mess, a messenger knocked on the door. “Sire?”
He angrily ripped the door open, the messenger stepping back in surprise. It was a royal guard, to his surprise. “There’s a lady here to see you.” The man said.
He finally looked behind the guard, only to see a woman behind him. Stella! He pushed the guard aside like he was made of feathers and hugged her tightly, her figure nearly disappearing in his arms.
“Brother…” She let out, surprised at the display of affection.
He then grabbed her shoulders tightly, meeting her eyes. “How did this happen? Did he force you?” He asked urgently, examining her for bruises.
“No! He is sweeter than you think. He let me out just to see you.” She said with a smile that she wanted to be reassuring. But her words alarmed him.
“He let you out?” he had to suppress the warm sensation of outrage and anger that was building up inside him. He glared at the guard with unmasked hostility. The guard met his eyes awkwardly and looked away. “Is this man here to keep an eye on you too?”
She realised her blunder and quickly tried to appease him. “Brother, no! I want to be his queen with all my heart, he is simply protective. Like you are.” She added with a small and cautious smile.
He shook his head, trying to calm himself down. “You’re happy with him?”
“Yes, believe me, I truly am. Now, tell me what you have been up to.” She asked of him, walking into his small quarters and taking a seat upon his bed, careful not to wrinkle her dress.
He reluctantly told her of his small adventure with Parceval and answered her questions. She gradually managed to convince him of her content though, and they finished the evening on a higher note than he would have thought possible earlier.
Still, he did not approve of their union. It was unbalanced, the power was all on the king’s side, unlike with the princess of Anglearth who had her home country backing her. But what could he do? Arkansas was king, and he was a lowly knight.
There was nothing he could do.