Page 39

T wo days later, after Gytha and Alexander had slept, eaten, rested, been provided with new clothes, and been treated with every possible courtesy, they were escorted to a room even higher in the stone castle.

Great windows all along one wall offered an expansive view of the land to the east, now shadowed, with gold fading on the distant hills as the sun slipped beneath the waves on the opposite side of the palace.

They were provided a meal, and soon they were joined by the king, who appeared frail and blind but mostly clear-minded, the princess and her blond betrothed, Miss Woodward, Mr. Stepanov, and several of the princess’s royal advisors, including the steely-eyed guard.

What followed was not exactly a negotiation, but rather a conversation with a remarkable degree of generosity on both sides.

The advisors presented Alexander with an account of the diplomacy, political struggles, and economic progress of the years since he had been kidnapped, with an emphasis on the most recent conflicts with its neighbors, the assistance of the blond prince, Kaerius, and the agreement he had arranged between Eleria and his own people, the Mer Folk.

At this, Gytha looked at him curiously, and he smiled and winked at her with such impudence that she blushed furiously and looked down.

He was too gorgeous; it was not comfortable to look at him.

She fixed her attention back on Alexander, and from the corner of her eye, she saw that the Mer prince’s smiled softened and warmed, as if he had been teasing her and was pleased by her fidelity to Alexander.

Various officials briefed Alexander on the defenses of the nation, of the pay of the soldiers, of Eleria’s trade agreements, and on various other elements of statecraft that Gytha had little interest in.

She enjoyed watching the people more. Each of the participants was fascinating in their own way.

The princess was unfailingly sweet and courteous.

The Mer prince would have been dangerous to anyone, and when he opened his mouth, his voice was like the purest gold, and it would have been easy for him to command or beguile the group to his own ends.

Despite his easy power, he was too occupied by admiring the princess to be troublesome; indeed, he seemed to enjoy watching her graciously lead the proceedings.

The various military leaders and administrators seemed to like and respect the princess, and Gytha thought there was something beautiful in that.

They could have discounted her for her youth or her sex, but they both treated her as a lady and respected her as a leader.

Miss Woodward and Mr. Stepanov spoke rarely, but when they did, everyone listened.

At last, when Alexander had heard everything, he looked up to meet the princess’s gaze.

“It seems the country I longed for so desperately does not need me.” There was a strange, empty grief in his voice.

He swallowed and raised his chin. “I am glad of it. Thank you for your generosity and trust in revealing such detail to me. I am glad to have you at the helm.”

The princess said, “Will you take your throne? It is yours by right. I ask only that you treat my father with the honor and gratitude he deserves for how he has served Eleria so selflessly, and that you respect and honor the work of the palace staff, advisors, guards, and military personnel.”

For a moment, there was only silence, and everyone watched Alexander. He swallowed and said thickly, “I am content.”

The king rose to his feet, clutching the edge of the table for support. “You want nothing?” he breathed.

Alexander bowed deeply to the older man.

“I wanted… I wanted to know that I had fulfilled my duty.” He cleared his throat, for his voice was still choked with emotion.

“I had not anticipated that I would be so deeply grateful that you believe my story. That you know me, or know of me, at least, and that I am not entirely forgotten. I have received more than I dreamed possible.”

He did not sound as happy as his words seemed to say, and Gytha studied his face.

When he said nothing else, she slipped her hand into his.

He flashed a quick, nervous smile and said, “There is one thing I had hoped, when I was alone and despairing. If I ever returned, if I ever saw Eleria again, I wanted someone to know that I was broken and still I did not bow to injustice. I upheld the honor of my father and of Eleria.”

The king, standing across from him, said, “You did. You honor Eleria with your courage.”

The princess said, “We will remember your courage, Your Highness. I am glad you returned from the North so that we know of it. King Tobias wrote of you. He said that everything he did, every decision he made, was done in the hope that if you returned, you would be proud of him. His reign was a testament to the love and esteem he had for you. ”

Alexander swallowed hard. “I loved him very much.”

“He loved you, too, and he always hoped for your return.”

The king’s voice was weak, but there was steel in his face. “The coronation vows are a testament to that.”

Alexander let out a trembling breath. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Your Highness.”

Marin glanced at servant and nodded before looking back at Alexander. “When we finish here, you should see the portrait gallery. What else can be done to satisfy your honor and duty or make you comfortable?”

“The only thing I lack now is Gytha’s hand in marriage, and to fulfill my word to see her home safely.” Alexander smiled sweetly and looked down at Gytha.

The very air in the room changed, as if everyone but Gytha had been holding their breaths as they waited for his decision.

“That is generous of you,” murmured the king, his trembling voice almost inaudible. “But what of your children?”

Alexander looked at Gytha again, his eyes searching hers.

“I love Eleria. But, if I am blessed with children, I would have them grow up surrounded by family. Near Gytha’s family.

I suppose you, Your Majesty and Your Highness, are family, but.

..” He looked up. “There is nothing for me here.

Staying would cause political trouble for you and cause Gytha grief to be away from her family.

I owe her everything, and I promised to see her safely home.

“I will sign whatever papers you wish to renounce all claim, now and forever, to the throne of Eleria. Thank you, Your Majesty. Your Highness.” Alexander bowed again to the king, then to the princess, and then to the others in turn.

Papers were signed, and Alexander and Gytha were thanked and congratulated by everyone.

They were offered a great deal of gold to provide for their future, not to purchase their cooperation but because the princess said it was unreasonable to send them away with nothing after Alexander had shown such open-handed generosity with what was rightfully his.

At one point, Mr. Stepanov, tall and grave, put one hand on Alexander’s shoulder and bent to speak in his ear for a moment.

Alexander looked up at him in surprise and then nodded.

On their way back to their suites, Marin led them through a wide corridor with portraits on either side.

“This is the portrait gallery,” she said.

She gestured graciously for Alexander and Gytha to continue at their own pace; one servant strode to the end of the hall and waited for them, while the king, princess, and the others bade them courteous farewells.

When they were alone, save the servant some distance away, Alexander looked around with something approaching trepidation.

Soon he found one portrait and stood in front of it, studying the king’s face.

King Tobias Ulrich de Gracey read a brass placard beneath the painting, along with a brief summary of King Tobias’s life and reign.

The king in the portrait bore a marked resemblance to Alexander, but he was older, with a few wrinkles by his eyes and a dusting of gray at his temples.

His lips curved in a quiet, restrained smile.

Alexander reached out to touch the painting, his fingers brushing over the king’s elegant boot.

A brass placard beneath the first caught Gytha’s eye.

“Alexander, read this.” She pointed.

Alexander tore his eyes away from his brother’s face to the placard.

Whatever fate took my brother, I know that his honor and courage could not be broken.

Every good deed I have done, I have done in his honor.

Every poor decision is my own. May the Creator bring Alexander home someday.

When he returns, I will fall on his neck and give him his crown.

If he is kept away for many years, I will require such a vow of my son and all my descendants.

Alexander was my hero and my best friend, and I await the day we meet again.

Tears rolled down Alexander’s face, and he fell to his knees. He wept, head bowed and shoulders shaking. Tentatively, Gytha put a hand on his shoulder, but she said nothing. In his tears, there was a release of grief held long and close.

After a very long time, Alexander’s quiet sobs subsided into jerky breaths that tugged at Gytha’s heart. “I’m sorry,” he said at last, covering his face with his hands. “I missed him so much.”

“What did you love most about him?” Gytha asked gently.

“He was just…fun. I prayed for a little brother for years, and he was everything I’d hoped for and more.

He was intelligent and witty; he loved to make us laugh.

He hugged me when I left for the forest the day I was taken, and it was the last time someone touched me kindly before you.

He had so much love in his heart, for me, for my parents, for Eleria.

” Alexander swiped his hands over his face and glanced at her, then back up at the portrait of King Tobias.

“You see it in his face: the sweetness, the love, his character. He would have been a gracious, merciful king.”

Alexander stood and leaned both hands on the wall for a moment, his head down.

Then with conscious effort, he straightened and looked at the other portraits.

There was a portrait of his brother’s wife, the queen.

“Kiersten!” Alexander gave a damp, surprised chuckle.

“She was a little doll when I saw her, with little ringlets and big green eyes.” He gazed up at the portrait, studying the dignified smile on the queen’s face.

“She would have been happy with him.” King Richard was much older than his father upon his coronation, for King Tobias had reigned for many years.

His expression was grave, but his eyes held kindness and nobility.

The placard indicated that he had been crowned just after his father’s unexpected death rather than a planned succession.

“That’s my nephew,” Alexander said, as if he could not quite comprehend it .

For well over an hour, Alexander examined the portraits in the gallery.

He showed Gytha the portraits of his parents and found the smaller gallery off to one side, which held more portraits, mostly of the families together.

Alexander spent quite some time in front of the portrait of his brother, his brother’s queen, and their young son.

He smiled through his tears, and he sighed, full of grief and love and resignation. “They were happy together. Good.”

Another portrait showed King Tobias with his queen some forty-five years after his coronation, Prince Richard and his bride Princess Lirael, their son Prince Corentin, a slim, handsome youth with an infectious smile, and two of his three young sisters.

According to the placard, the portrait was done before his fourth sister and second brother were born.

Alexander studied this portrait for long minutes, taking in every detail of their faces.

“What a beautiful family,” he murmured to himself. “I am glad.”

There was a portrait of Alexander himself as a youth, with Tobias by his side.

Alexander stood in a regal pose, his dark, curly hair pulled back with a velvet ribbon.

His right hand thumb was hooked in his belt, and his left hand rested on his young brother’s shoulder.

“I remember posing for that,” Alexander said quietly.

“I was sixteen, I think, and Tobias was eight. He was getting restless, and I kept tickling his ear to make him wiggle, and Father tried to fuss at us but he kept laughing.”

Without a word, Gytha slipped her hand into his.

She studied the portrait, glancing at Alexander’s profile at intervals.

In the portrait, his dark eyes were bright with mirth, and his lips turned up in a sunny smile.

But Alexander’s attention was entirely on the faces of his brother and his parents.

At last Gytha said, “He loved you.”

Alexander nodded jerkily. “I…I did not know how much seeing this, reading that he remembered me, would soften my grief. I will miss my family all my life, but I…can… grieve with joy, knowing they were happy.” He looked down at Gytha, his eyes red and damp.

“The Creator was good to me, even in this.”

She smiled up at him and then, gently, slipped her arms around his waist. When she put her head against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. He put his cheek against her hair and breathed deeply. “Thank you, Gytha.”