Each one was a fucking gift from God.
But if I say that out loud, I’m leading her on further, aren’t I?
Worse than I’ve already done beneath the cover of these trees?
Me being king of Downsriver is a laughable idea and I’ve already established, I’m not standing by and watching her wed another.
All I can do here is let her go.
She will thank me one day. She will.
“All of those things, Your Majesty…” I swallow a handful of razor blades. “You ordered me to do them.”
Her face turns pale and for one horrible moment, I think she’s going to pass out.
“Rex…” she breathes, her voice dull, ghost-like. “You have broken my heart and it will never, ever be repaired.”
And then she turns and walks away.
“Britta,” I choke out, almost dropping to my knees. I’ve been shot full of arrows. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t glance back once on her way back to the palace.
What have I done?
Why doesn’t this feel like the right thing?
Blindly, I stumble toward the passed out imposter, searching him for weapons before stooping down and throwing him over my shoulder. Just get him to the authorities and go. That’s all I can do. I have hurt the queen and I should not be allowed within the palace walls.
I’m aching head to toe as I haul the unconscious man to the tower beside the palace, where the dungeons are located. I throw him down inside a cell and order it to be locked until the queen herself orders him set free, no exceptions, and then I start for the stables to collect my horse, my longing eyes on the queen’s bedchamber window all the while.
Is she in there? Crying?
Did I really break her heart? How is that I was capable of doing so?
I’m preparing to mount my horse when I hear the commotion.
It’s not the typical commotion heard within the palace walls.
This is much louder. There is shouting, men racing pasts on their mounts, guards firing arrows from the towers of the palace.
“We’re under attack!” someone shouts. “Soldiers from Northstream.”
My soul leaves my fucking body.
Under attack?
Britta.
Britta is in danger.
Who else is the biggest target but the queen?
With a bellow lodged in my throat, I sprint for the palace, sword drawn.
I realize in that split second that I’ve been an utter fool. I might have left, allowed her to marry another, but I would have come back again and again, every time she was in danger or facing difficulty. Staying away would have been impossible. But I’ve lost her now. I’ve lost her.
And now she could very well die before I reach her.
9
Britta
It hasn’t hit me until just now that I am the queen.
Yes, I knew the title was mine. But I am an eighteen-year-old girl with a broken heart, my parents are dead, my kingdom is under attack and there are dozens of men looking to me for orders that simply will not arrive on my tongue.
Richard has been apoplectic since I informed him of the attempt on my life at the hands of Corwin—if that was even his real name. “Your Majesty, I assure you, Prince Corwin is royalty. He comes from the finest lineage. His titles are many! He must have been replaced by a spy. That is the only explanation.”
“A spy from Northstream, no doubt,” I say, finding my voice. “They wanted to remove the queen before attacking. And they would have succeeded, if it wasn’t for…”
I can’t bring myself to say his name.
All of those things, Your Majesty…you ordered me to do them.
If I do not die today, I think those words will echo in my ears for the rest of my life. Because Rex is right. I did order him to touch me, kiss me, make love to me. I was just so sure he would have done those things anyway. That he needed my affections as much as I needed his. How could I have been so wrong? One day as a queen and already abusing my power. I ought to be sent to the gallows.
“I demand to be hidden!”
In a daze, I turn my head to the bald prince with bushy eyebrows. Is he still here? Why?
“Is there not a safe room for royalty?” The prince blusters, scurrying around the great hall. “I demand to be taken there at once. This is outrageous!”
“Perhaps we should bring both the queen and Prince Egregious to the safe hold below floors,” suggests Richard to the court, visibly grasping at straws. “There, they can marry. With a king on the throne, perhaps Northstream will retreat, fearing retaliation from two kingdoms.”
Behind me, there is a loud crash, as if a door has been kicked open.
I assume it’s the enemy and fear strikes my chest, but when I turn, it’s Rex.
He’s striding into the great hall with hell in his eyes.