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Tristan peeked out the window to catch the driver finally moving. Except hewasn’tmoving. He was falling.

His limp body collapsed to the ground with a thud, and Tristan jolted back into the carriage. The roof reverberated with a loud thump as heavy boots landed on top of it. Then more footsteps followed, surrounding the carriage.

Tristan reached for his sword, but the space was too tight to free it.

The door flew open, revealing a bearded man with jet-black hair. He flashed a wicked grin at the sight of Tristan. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said with a growl as he stepped forward.

A wave of painful grunts came from all around the carriage, and the man’s grin fell from his face. Then a guttural sound ripped from his throat as his breathing stopped. He fell into the carriage, face down, and Killian came into view, standing at the door with the man’s blood dripping from his hunting knife.

“Let me guess,” Killian said.

But he didn’t have to finish. Tristan nodded. “Rumpelstiltskin.”

TRISTAN

Prince Tristan leaned out of the window of his castle chambers, overlooking an endless expanse of crashing waves. His mind was filled with sorrow and rage; a tumultuous storm created by the absence of his father’s guidance. He felt like he was losing all the wisdom he once gained from his father, and the regret of never being able to receive it again filled him with a deep, burning despair.

As he tried to recall the events of the night his father died, knot after knot of confusion and dread filled his stomach. He could almost hear the creaking of Ryke’s ship and see Ella’s bloody hands, but every recollection ended in a fog. He wished he could remember more, but each time he felt himself getting closer, a wave of panic would wash it away.

He recalled his visit with Ella and Killian, and the things Ella had told him. But he wanted to remember.

A cough had him swivel around to see one of his guards standing in the doorway. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a rough, weather-beaten face. Tristan wondered what bitter memories he held in the darkest corners of his mind, but the guard was giving nothing away. His uniform was exactly how it should be—a blue velvet jacket, white trousers, and a hat with the royal crest pinned to it. There was not even a speck of dirt nor a single crease on his clothing.

“Captain Hook is here, Your Highness,” he announced.

“Very good,” Tristan said with a nod. He adjusted his fine royal jacket, his fingertips brushing the gold stitching along the edges. Then he strode for the main hall.

As he descended the castle steps, he let out a sigh and threw his concerns aside to welcome his cousin with open arms.

Ryke’s shoulders seemed broader than Tristan remembered. The seas must have been working him hard.

“Are you keeping well, cousin?” Tristan asked as they broke apart and began to stroll around the castle grounds.

“I am,” Ryke replied, smiling broadly. And Tristan believed him. Ryke’s skin had more color and the worry line between his eyes was less pronounced. He walked with his shoulders rolled back and had a spring in his step. It was like nothing could put him in a foul mood.

Tristan felt a pang of jealousy.

“I am hearing whispers of a royal ball,” Ryke said, turning to give Tristan a wry smile. “I am glad to hear you have reignited your desire to dance with pretty ladies.”

Tristan clasped his hands behind his back and took in a steadying breath. “It is not just another ball, cousin. This time I must find a wife.”

Ryke placed an encouraging hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Finding a queen isn’t a decision to rush into, cousin. Take your time.”

Tristan’s shoulders dropped.

Ryke noticed. “Is something troubling you?” he asked.

Tristan sighed. “I made a terrible mistake.” He then went on to tell Ryke about his contract with Rumple. He admitted to having been blinded by grief and rage at the time, seeking revenge on his father’s murderer. But he couldn’t bring himself to confide in Ryke the complete truth. He still hadn’t figured out how to say the words aloud.

I killed my own father.

“Not to worry,” Ryke said cheerfully. “I’ll be sticking around for a bit. Lexa has been seasick lately, so staying might do all of us some good.”

Tristan’s mood lifted a little. “I’m sure Lily will be thrilled to have you around for a while longer.”

When they turned the corner and made a full circle around the castle, Tristan caught sight of two guards running toward him.

“There have been new reports, your highness,” one of them said breathlessly. “You are needed in the great hall. Your advisors are waiting.”