Page 51 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

Leonardo, who had closed the door behind them, gestured for Favian to take his hand. He did so automatically.

Looking at Dinha, the prince said, “I promise I will never keep you from whoever you want to be with. I have no romantic or sexual interest in you.”

“I can see that,” she replied, but her tone had softened.

“Give me until the end of the night, alright? Your father expects you to proclaim who you have chosen at midnight, yes? If I’m wearing my crown during the announcement, I will do it.

If I don’t and you choose me regardless, I will make a scene. Got it?”

The prince nodded and squeezed Favian’s hand. “Let’s go back, then, before my father decides to do something drastic.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late for that.” Rodrigo was standing by the window, eyes fixed on the courtyard.

Leonardo rushed towards him, letting go of Favian’s hand in the process. “What do you mean?” Once he joined Rodrigo, the prince paled. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Dinha asked before Favian could, the two of them struggling to catch up with what Leonardo and Rodrigo were seeing.

When Favian caught a glimpse of the courtyard, he understood very little. A carriage was being readied. It wasn’t one of the guests’ waiting to pick up their patrons. This carriage had been in the same spot a little over five years ago, and it was quickly being packed with chests and bags.

The advisors.

“What are they doing?” Dinha asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to move to the Northern Castle until after the wedding?”

Rodrigo whirled to look at Favian, suspicion in his eyes.

“That’s what he told me!” Favian pressed through restless breaths, suddenly doubting his own memory.

“Only one way to find out,” Leonardo said. “Dinha, you should go back to the hall. You, too.” He looked at Favian. “I don’t want you caught in whatever crossfire we’re going to find out there.”

Favian shook his head. “What if he makes you leave right then and there?” he quietly asked. King Amondo had distracted him with fear for Nia, all the while he had been plotting to cart Leonardo off as quickly as possible.

But the prince would not go so easily, it appeared.

“Then I will fight tooth and nail,” Leonardo replied while taking Favian’s hands again. He raised them to his mouth and pressed soft kisses to the knuckles.

Weakly, Favian asked, “What am I supposed to tell your father?”

“Tell him I’ll go willingly if he meets me outside.” Sensing the protest in Favian’s throat, he added. “I want him nowhere near you, and I want to discuss this with him far away from the guests. But I’m not going anywhere. You’re not losing me again.”

Not yet.

Taking Favian’s silence as compliance, Leonardo let go of his hands and motioned for Rodrigo.

“Let’s go.”

The two of them slipped through the door, leaving Favian and Dinha alone in the prince’s chamber.

“Your Highness—”

“Oh, cut the crap.”

They looked at each other.

“Dinha.”

She gave him a smirk.

“We should return to the ball.”

They didn’t speak on their way back, the anticipation in the air seemingly taking the wind out of Dinha’s otherwise talkative nature.

The moment they entered the hall, Favian knew something was wrong. The center throne was vacant, King Amondo and Lord Casella gone. In their place, an advisor was placed on each side of the pedestal, their expressions way too calm.

Instantly, Favian searched for Nia but instead found only confused guests, irritated by the absence of not only the prince they had come to present their daughters to, but also the king who had invited them here.

Favian looked to the thrones again.

For the first time in his life, Favian met Queen Irmina’s eyes. Like resin, they were a golden amber and hard. Despite the firmness of her brows, Favian noticed the ghost of a smirk dancing on her lips, and he knew there was something they had missed.

Favian gave the room one more look over. He couldn’t find his sister anywhere.

Without a moment of hesitation, he turned back the way he had just come.

“What are you doing?” Dinha asked.

“Finding my sister,” he replied, determination at the forefront of his mind.

Consequences be damned, he wouldn’t let Nia be hurt again.

As he rushed through the corridors, Dinha was right behind him, holding up the hem of her dress to accommodate the fast movement of her feet.

Had he not been preoccupied with thoughts of his sister, Favian may have wondered how she was running in those sandals.

Instead, it took him everything he had not to let the pain in his foot slow him down.

He reached the courtyard outside the same way he had more than five years ago: through the servant wing, far south, then making his way across the wall above the gates, scanning the proceedings in the courtyard.

The vantage point was no use; the carriage was parked close to the gates, the roof overshadowing whatever was happening right behind it.

He heard voices but could not identify them.

Favian cursed and made his way to the other side of the wall, where the closest set of stairs was located.

“Father.” He recognized Leonardo’s voice once he emerged from the stone structure, Dinha on his heels. “What are you doing?”

“I’m afraid there has been a change of plans,” His Majesty’s voice sounded as Favian rounded the carriage. “The Northern Castle will no longer be available to you and your bride.”

And then Favian saw them.

King Amondo stood next to Lord Casella, who had one arm snug around Nia’s waist, hand spread across her belly, pressing her back to his front.

On the advisor’s face, too: a smirk, like this was bringing him immense satisfaction.

His other hand held a knife, the tip of which grazed the skin right underneath Nia’s jaw.

The panic in her eyes matched the terror clawing its way through Favian’s insides, ripping him apart from the depths of his conscience to the awareness of his bodily existence.

The knife drew blood.

Favian screamed.

The king’s head turned, his gaze snatching on the servant.

None of the expressions he had seen on the king’s face in all his years matched the sadistic satisfaction on the man’s face as Lord Casella began moving backwards, pulling Nia with him into the carriage.

She was helpless to follow, every move she made against the man behind her risking the blade drilling into her throat.

Favian ran.

He made no choices, only moves.

Before he could get far, the pain in his foot made him stumble. He fell. He landed on his elbow, sharp bone hitting stone floor with a violent bang, skin scraping through fabric.

The last thing he saw of Nia was her face, white as a sheet, being dragged into the carriage. The moment the door was closed, the vehicle was set in motion, whiplashes sounding from the driver before the horses raced off, taking with them Favian’s little sister.

His world was plunged into darkness.