The White Forest (Mages and Kingdoms Book 2) (14 page)

Seth

The morning could have
not been more welcome. Seth stretched the limbs he could, the ones he had free, but was careful not to move the arm Amelie claimed. She had her back curled to him with her head resting on the crook of this elbow.

The cot scarcely had room for the two of them so Seth’s back was pushed up against the stone wall. It could have been a wall of feathers for all the pain and cramps such tight quarters should have caused that he didn’t feel. His body paid attention to none of it as it thrummed with the memories of making love to Amelie last night, of the feel of her now against it.

It was the first time he’d slept soundly in months. It was the first time his eyes were free of hesitation as they greeted the early sunlight. He wanted every morning to be just like this.

“What are you thinking?”

Amelie’s voice was a surprise to him. Her body remained still. He thought she’d been asleep.

He smiled and his lips found her ear. He kissed it before whispering, “I’ve never seen you sleep so peacefully before. Have the nightmares stopped?”

She traced the back of his hand with her fingers. “I have not had them since I went to the White Forest.”

He sighed into her hair. “I’m glad for it. That you didn’t have to wake up alone after suffering through them.” He paused. “I want to wake up like this every day for the rest of our lives.”

Amelie turned her head to look up at him. He hated that look in her eye. The one that thought too much. The one that calculated what being with him would cost everyone else. The one that talked her out of deserving happiness. He could think of no further barrier between them and for the love of angels, he didn’t want to know if she’d constructed a new one.

“Seth, I-”

He shut her up with a long kiss, cutting off her words. It wasn’t her feelings she was conflicted about. He could feel her melting under him, her hips instinctively pushing against him for more.

He gave her more. Every time she began to speak, he’d find a new area to explore until her words degraded into moans of pleasure. She clutched him as he moved, fiercely needing him. A need he returned whole heartedly. She had missed him in their time apart as much as he’d mourned for her. He could see it as her eyes found relief when he caressed her and it made him that much more determined to chase away whatever demon she thought still plagued them.

When they were once again spent, her form stretched out over his torso in tired bliss, Seth finally spoke.

“Tell me.”

She raised a cautious head to look him in the eye.

He nodded. “Whatever it is you think you will say that will drive me away, say it now. And when I’m still here afterwards, know that you can tell me anything and it will not change how I feel about you.”

She sat up slowly, unsure. She looked around the cot and he suddenly knew what she needed. With regret, he sat up as well, pulling her shirt out from underneath him and handing it to her. He pulled on his trousers and slipped his linen shirt back over his head.

Once dressed, she smoothed her dark hair back behind her ears. Her green eyes flashed at him.

“Seth,” she began. She drew in a deep breath then said in a clear voice, “You are a mage.”

Amelie

Amelie wasn’t exactly sure
how Seth would react to her news. She filled him in with small pieces. Explaining how mage inheritance worked. Telling him that King Armiss was human but Queen Elmeda had been a mage. Revealing that the queen was not only magical but had been the princess of the mythical White Forest. The mage’s civil war, the regression from the human world, the queen’s three hundred year tyranny over the magical realm.

After each revelation, she paused to gauge his reaction. He remained pensive as she spoke, briefly raising his eyes to meet hers and nodding slightly to continue.

When she had spoken on everything she knew, she sat cross legged facing him while he sat on the edge of the cot, his elbows resting on his knees and his head pressed into his open palms.

“Kernan?” he finally asked.

“I do not know,” Amelie answered. “He doesn’t appear to have inherited any mage blood. Perhaps he is like Claudia.”

“So my power is resistance.”

Amelie nodded. “Yes. It is why I do not affect you.”

“But you have two powers.”

“I do not know why. It puzzled Rankor and Henna as well. As half human, I should only have one. Henna thinks her enhancements might have drawn out a second that otherwise would have been dormant.”

Seth grew quiet again. “This is what you learned in your time away?” he finally asked.

Amelie gulped. “I knew of this information before I left. Sir Duncan told me everything while I was in Draeden. I have waited this long to tell you.”

“Why?”

Amelie reached out a tentative hand to touch him. She needed to feel his skin on hers as she tried to explain. “When I learned of this, there was so much going on. I was a prisoner in your kingdom. A pawn in a treaty. Falling hopelessly in love with you with no happy ending in sight. I didn’t know myself before the news and I knew myself even less afterwards. I didn’t want to keep adding to the turmoil. Your mother wished for the secrecy. At the time, it seemed right to continue it.”

“But you are telling me now.”

“Because now everything is different. I have learned of terrible things in the White Forest and I no longer think secrecy is the answer. I now think it is best to know one’s history, no matter how ugly or twisted. To ignore it gives the ones who made it power.”

“So Henna…”

“Aye.” Amelie smiled, thinking of her friend in the forest. “The woman who looked out for you has many more sides that you could ever realize.”

Seth got up and strode over the window. The one Amelie crawled into the night before in a fevered passion. His palms rested on the sill and his forehead pressed on the glass pane. His eyes closed in thought. Amelie sat patiently, listening to his even breathing.

After several minutes, he sat back down on the bed. Seth met her gaze but said nothing. He watched her for some time, drawing his eyebrows together thoughtfully. Oh, how she hated how he carefully he thought before choosing his words. She fidgeted nervously.

“You have told me a great many things. Information which I’m sure I’ll be digesting again and again a long time from now.” He ran a knuckle lightly down her cheek. “You have spoken. And I am still here,” he said with a small smile.

Relief bloomed in her chest. He leaned in and kissed her softly. Oh, how she loved how carefully he thought before choosing his words.

The knock on the door caused them to break away quickly and rise from the bed. Sister Patrice did not wait for a response before bustling into the room. She stood in the middle of the small space without meeting their eyes. Amelie and Seth nervously smoothed imaginary wrinkles in their clothing.

“Well,” the sister finally said into the silence. “Glad to see you are all right after all this time, Miss Amelie. Prince Seth. You are once again welcome to the convent. If you are quite decent, a messenger awaits you in the parlor, Miss Amelie.”

Sister Patrice turned to leave but paused momentarily to level a warning gaze at Seth. “No more than one night,” she reminded him. “It won’t do to have you stay.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Seth replied in a guilty tone.

Sister Patrice looked between the two of them, a tiny smile, the first Amelie had ever witnessed, playing on her lips. It was gone as soon as it came and she looked to the heavens before motioning across her chest to encourage the Angels’ forgiveness for, as Amelie surely knew, the sins Sister Patrice was aware of that passed between them last night. And this morning.

Amelie and Seth quickly pulled on their boots and the remainder of their gear and headed towards the study to meet the messenger. The soldier bowed his respect as they entered and handed Amelie the missive. It was one of Captain Lucas’s men, Lieutenant Earl.

“I was heading for the palace with this note and I saw your mare from the road,” he said. “The note was intended for you and you sister. I thought to stop here so you could see it straight away.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She dismissed him before summarizing it aloud to Seth.

“The rumors are confirmed,” she said, closing her eyes in a moment of defeat. “Grantham troops march on the northern border. We must send a response. And quickly.” Amelie strode to the front door and called out to the soldier. “Please, sir. Ready our horses!”

“What can I do?” Seth asked urgently.

Amelie whirled to face him. She knew exactly what he could do but she was loathe to say it. Not when they had finally had a proper reunion. “Go to Draeden. Gather any troops King Armiss will allow. I need you to convince him for more assistance. If this battle doesn’t quell Grantham’s thirst, we may have all out war on our hands and Draeden’s support will be needed. And soon.”

“Kernan can go.”

“Prince Kernan will not leave my sister’s side nor do I wish it. I want him next to her in the palace where she’s safe while I deal with this.”

“While
you
deal with this?” Seth asked angrily.

“Yes! Candor needs a leader and I’ll be damned if I don’t step up. They don’t know me. They don’t trust me. I’ve been hidden for years. I’m going to prove myself now. And I’m going to put this kingdom back together.”

Seth grabbed her shoulders and looked at her fiercely. “This doesn’t have to be your fight.”

Amelie’s tone was soft but determined. “Yes, Seth. It does.”

She broke away from him and headed out to the horses. Seth wasn’t finished. He followed her, taking the reins from her hands. “You can command a general. You don’t have to be in the battle.”

“I need to see this through. Will you help me? Will you go to your father?”

Seth pursed his lips, but he offered no other argument. His eyes were fire.

“Your Highness, I must also inform you that General Asher and his company of men are among the guests tonight at the banquet,” the soldier added meaningfully from where he still held onto Seth’s horse.

Amelie turned to him in astonishment. “General Asher?”

“What?” Seth asked, the point of the observation lost on him.

“Those are his lands,” Amelie said. “He made the trip to the palace despite the rumors.” Her face darkened. “I don’t like this.”

Amelie’s gut clenched with a knowing she was all too familiar with as she tried to decipher the actions of guilty men. All the more reason to make haste. She mounted her horse.

Seth’s grip on Swift’s reins tightened as he looked up at her. “I just got you back,” he said. “Do not act rashly in the name of your kingdom. One cannot lead if they are dead.”

“You worry too much.”

“And you do not worry enough!” His voice was rough. He was angry with her. Amelie stiffened in the saddle.

“You wouldn’t know!” she snapped as she felt her defenses rising. “You’ve never had the weight of the kingdom settled on your shoulders. You can speak to me of rashness once you’ve tasted that responsibility.”

“You stubborn woman,” Seth muttered and Amelie nudged her horse into movement. She paused a few yards away, her horse turning in agitated circles.

“You will go?” she called out to him.

Seth glared at her. “You know I will.”

She gave him one last long look before squeezing her horse and flying back in the direction of the palace.

Amelie

Amelie’s gear came off
of her as she walked into her room. Cloak, gloves, her riding tunic.

“Ho there!” she called out for she did not know the chambermaid’s name. She didn’t know half the names of the staff in the palace, so little was she here now or in years past.

“Yes, your Highness?” the chambermaid asked, appearing before her in a small curtsey.

“The finest dress available, please. And hurry. I have a banquet to make an appearance at.”

Another curtsey. “Right away, your Highness.”

Amelie fretted over the time. She had tried to recreate the magic that had swept her to the convent but no matter how she spoke the words, no matter how soft or reverent or forcefully she recited them, Swift remained on their route in human speed.

She would have to make do with a late arrival. And she planned to make quite the entrance. So the cabinet wanted to wrestle away the throne, did they? Amelie intended to look every part the queen as she made her announcement on Candor’s future.

She didn’t have the same distinguished air her mother had carried. Indeed, Amelie tended to expel waves of impatience and fidgeted terribly if she sat still too long. But she would still drape her form in the waves of fabric as her mother once did. She would dress her now shoulder-length hair atop her head in an intricate bun. She would look sternly on all who opposed. The look, at least, was not foreign to her. That she could do.

The chambermaid worked quickly, following Amelie’s instructions on her dress, hair, and rouge and filling in where Amelie faltered.

“Your mother loved the pearls for events such as these,” she supplied gently when Amelie’s hand hesitated over the array of necklaces presented. With water pricking the corner of her eyes, Amelie nodded her acceptance.

When she was finished, Amelie inspected their work in the mirror.

A queen looked back at her.

The notion warmed her chest and Amelie placed a calming hand to her stomach. Her dress was winter blue with lace covering that bore tiny, intricately stitched flowers. A silver sash cinched her middle, matching the ribbons that circled the knot in her hair.

“Beautiful, your Highness,” the chambermaid complimented breathily.

Amelie flicked her eyes from her reflection in the mirror to the maid’s. The maid’s eyes were wide and genuine. This small validation cemented her confidence.

“Thank you…”

The maid smiled as Amelie hesitated on her name. “Gwen.”

Amelie cringed inwardly and then nodded. “Thank you, Gwen.”             

“I believe the banquet started almost an hour ago.”

Amelie smoothed the front of her dress and raised her shoulders. “Then let’s not delay my entrance a moment longer.”

*                            *                            *

The feast quieted as Amelie entered the hall.

The tables were set up in a square, lining the walls of the room so that the court jests and singers could entertain the guests as the courses progressed. A juggler, seamlessly managing several empty wine bottles, nearly dropped them at her approach. Her quick reflexes caught the last one his full hands failed to grab. She placed it on top of his load and he bowed before backing away to the far wall.

Amelie tried to keep her face from contorting in anger when she glimpsed General Asher in the middle seat of the head table, a space usually reserved for the king. Claudia had allowed herself to be seated to the right with Prince Kernan beside her. The acquisition of the throne was all but complete with this display in front of the nobles.

General Asher raised his eyebrows at her in surprise but the expression was mixed as his smile stretched wide in an irritating gloat. She would take pleasure in removing it from his face.

“My lords. My ladies. Dear council,” Amelie addressed the room. “I am pleased to have you all gathered here tonight for this feast. It shall make my announcement that much swifter.” She paused for effect, letting the shock of her presence recede so they could properly hear her words. Many of them watched her curiously, never actually laying eyes on her face before. Astonished expressions circled the room as whispers furiously passed between the guests, those that knew of the Hidden Princess informing those that didn’t.

“My name is Princess Gabriella Amelie Lamour. I am here to take my rightful place on the throne.”

Gasps punctuated the air in the room. Many of the cabinet members looked thoughtful. Sir Duncan beamed like a proud father. Bastair scowled.

“I have spent several years out of the public eye to aid Candor in secret. My unusual abilities allowed me to coerce would-be spies to speak about their plots. In the eyes of most, our kingdoms have enjoyed peace. But there was always a war being fought behind closed doors.” Amelie gestured to her sister and her new husband. “My sister has taken the first step towards true peace. The kingdoms will never know harmony as long as we exist in isolation. It’s time to form relationships with our neighbors. It’s time to draw out the scoundrels in our kingdoms who would seek more power. It’s time to expose the very people I hunted in secret.”

“You are dead,” Bastair proclaimed, standing from his seat.

“Do you believe in ghosts then?” Amelie said, a mocking current underlying her question. “Clearly, I am not.”

“General Asher is the ideal successor,” Bastair argued. “He is battle ready.”

“General Asher is well prepared to plunge his sword into a training target. He has never seen war. Even now, Grantham troops close in on his lands and he sits here feasting while his people are left defenseless.” Amelie kept her suspicions on the man to herself. She didn’t want to informally try and convict him in front of his peers. There would be time enough to skewer him later if her instinct was correct.

Bastair’s face grew furiously red. "How do we know you are not using your magic on us now?"

"Because your lips would be pressed to my behind," she answered sharply. "Much better occupied there than the useless flapping of them these last few days."

Her quick comment earned her chuckles around the banquet tables, easing some of the tension. Bastair returned to his seat, his skin reddening even more. Amelie turned in a circle to look each in the eye before speaking again. "A few of you know my previous service to this kingdom. Most of you don't. I am half mage. But full Candorian. The accounts you hear of me may form your opinions of my loyalties in one way or another but I'm done with living through the accounts of others."

She strode to where Captain Lucas sat and drew his sword from his scabbard. She held it in front of her, strong and determined.

"I will not rise to the throne untested. I will earn your loyalty, not merely inherit it. And I will not rest on the work I performed while hidden. I will stand up for Candor in full view of her people. I will lead the army into battle against Grantham."

Bastair snorted. "Great ambitions, Miss Lamour, but your dresses and finery would get tangled up in the saddle before you made it to the front lines." He lifted his goblet to his mouth and laughed into it before talking a gulp of wine.

In a swift movement, Amelie twisted the sword to hold it blade down, pulled her thin dagger from against her wrist in the sleeve of her dress and threw it towards Bastair. His goblet was promptly knocked from his hand and purple liquid splattered in his face.

"Make no mistake," she sneered. "That underneath all this elegance is a skilled fighter who could disembowel your innards before you took the next bite of your meal." She righted the sword in her hand again and glanced back at him with the hard look of a leader establishing her place. "And you shall address me as your Highness or your lady. Failure to do so in the future will have your cabinet seat relocated to the dungeon.”

She waited a moment while the murmurs quieted before continuing. Claudia’s eyes were shining as she gazed upon her sister. Amelie recognized the look. Respect.

It flowed through Amelie, calming any lingering nerves and shoring her confidence. “It is not the humans who should remain divided,” she continued and her voice carried out louder. Stronger. “I will lead an army to quell Grantham’s threat and then the five kingdoms can move forward together with a new treaty. The friendship between Candor and Draeden needn’t be the last. We can enter a new era.”

“This is all lovely thinking,” another cabinet member said, rising. “But it is much easier to spout these ideals than see them through.”

Amelie bowed her head slightly in respect to his concerns, but her face was determined. “Yes, you are correct. But never is a leader’s job an easy one. General Tatum!”

The general snapped to attention from his position at the end of the table.

“Ready your regiment,” Amelie ordered. “We leave for the north border in the morning.”