The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3) - Page 77

“You did what you had to do,” he went on. “Letting her go was an act of courage.”

Or stupidity.

“She’s on her way to a kingdom riddled with traitors who want her dead,” I finally blurted out.

“Then why did you let her go?”

I didn’t answer. He knew. He’d already said it. Because I had no choice. And that was the biting irony. If I had forced her back to Dalbreck, I’d have lost Lia just the same. But as long as Sven had opened the door to what occupied my mind, I ventured further, asking a question that had circled in my head like a mad crow pecking at my flesh.

“I know the Assassin loves her.” I swallowed, then added more quietly, “Do you think she loves him?”

Sven coughed and shifted in his saddle. He grimaced. “That’s not my area of expertise. I can’t advise you on—”

“I am not asking for advice, Sven! Just your opinion! You seem to have one on everything else!”

If he had knocked me off my saddle it would have been within his rights. And it wouldn’t have been the first time. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Very well. From what I observed at the Sanctum, and the way she interceded on his behalf when we captured him, I would say … yes, she does care for him. But love? Of that, I’m not so sure. The way she looked at you was—”

A trumpet sounded. “Troops!” the flag bearer called.

We were too far out to be greeted by a squad yet, but when Sven and I pushed our horses forwa

rd for a better view, there it was. Not just a squad but what looked like a whole Dalbretch regiment heading our way. Double the numbers in our caravan. To stop us, or escort us in? It was not customary for outpost caravans to be greeted this way—but then challenged kings were not usually part of a returning caravan.

“Arms ready,” I called. The order rolled back along the caravan like a war chant. “Move forward.”

As we got closer, Captain Azia shouted more orders and the caravan spread out, creating a wide, formidable line. Shields were raised. We were facing our own—not exactly how I had envisioned beginning my reign. The kingdom was more divided than I’d thought. Sven rode on one side of me, and Azia on the other. Faces came into view, General Draeger foremost among them.

“I’m not liking this,” Sven grumbled.

“Let’s give him a chance to do what’s right,” I said. I turned and yelled, “Hold!” to those behind me, then moved forward with my officers to meet him and his officers.

Several yards from one another, we all stopped.

“General Draeger,” I said firmly, and dipped my head in acknowledgment, trying to avoid a bloody outcome.

“Prince Jaxon,” he returned.

Prince. The heat rose on my neck. My eyes locked onto his.

“You’ve been out too long in the field, General,” I said. “You must not be aware, my title has changed—and yours has not.”

He smiled. “I think you’re the one who’s been gone too long.”

“Agreed. But I’m here now to take my rightful place on the throne.”

He returned my stare, neither correcting himself nor backing down. He was a young man for a general, no more than forty, and had been in the highest military position for three years, but perhaps he felt he had already outgrown it. He glanced at Sven and Azia, then briefly to the long line of soldiers behind us, assessing their numbers, and possibly their resolve.

“And now you think you’re here to stay put and rule?” he asked.

I answered him with an icy stare. He was pushing his limits and mine. “I am.”

He made a move, reaching for the pommel of his saddle, and Azia’s hand went to his sword.

“Steady,” I said.

The general swung down from his horse, and the troops behind him did the same. He looked into my eyes, sure and unafraid, and nodded. “Welcome home then, King Jaxon.” He dropped to one knee. “Long live the king,” he called. The soldiers both before and behind me, echoed his shout.

I looked at him and wondered, was he a truer subject to Dalbreck than any of us, willing to challenge me and risk his life to ensure stability for his kingdom, or had he judged the loyalty of those behind me against those behind him and decided to take the more prudent action? I would believe the former for now.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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