Page 115 of A Kingdom Restored

“Three,” Bianca said firmly. “I helped.”

“As did I,” chorused several other voices.

“Father.”

Lachlan spoke quietly, but Heath didn’t underestimate the weight of the word. He wasn’t the only one who’d come a long way since the last time they all sat in this room. It was encouraging to see the crown prince challenging his father. Encouraging both for Lachlan and for the future of Valoria.

“Locking up or otherwise publicly sanctioning every power-wielder of my generation is exactly the type of inflammatory display I feel we should avoid right now.”

The king turned his furious gaze upon his son. “They snatched the prisoner out of my keeping, Lachlan.”

“He’s dead now, Father,” Lachlan said quietly.

“That makes it all the worse!” the king growled. “He is now permanently beyond our reach to bring him to justice. You suggest I just forgive the betrayal that led my own relatives to bring that about?”

“I don’t see it as a betrayal,” said the prince simply. He met his father’s eyes. “And if I can forgive it, surely you can.”

The king held his son’s gaze for a pregnant moment, then his face hardened. “No,” he said curtly. “I’m not sure I can.” He turned abruptly on his heel. “I will speak with these dragons.”

With that he strode from the room, the rest of the group exchanging uncertain looks before hastening to follow.

Heath lingered back, wanting to catch Lachlan. The prince gave him a wan smile as he caught up to him, looking as weary as Heath felt.

“Heath. I am glad you’re back in one piece. I was a little concerned when your family clearly didn’t know where you were.”

“I was never intending to leave with Merletta,” Heath acknowledged. “But Reka brought us word that the dragons had decided to move on Merletta’s kingdom, and I couldn’t let her go without me, not into that kind of crisis.”

His cousin considered him. “You care very deeply about her, don’t you?”

“She means more to me than my own life,” Heath said simply. He flashed the prince a grin. “Although I won’t deny I’m pleased it didn’t come down to that in the end.” Running a hand over his face, he added, “As impossible as this seemed a short time ago, it looks as though we now both have every chance of living a long life.”

Lachlan studied his face. “And she has returned to her own kind? To stay?”

Heath dropped his hand with a sigh, understanding the words Lachlan wasn’t saying.Every chance of living a long life, but not together.

“Yes,” he said aloud. “She has.” His eyes drifted to the doorway, and the two of them began to walk, following more slowly in the king’s footsteps. “I expected your father to be angry about the prisoner’s escape,” he said. “I don’t blame him. But the anger hides something, and I’m not clear on what that is. It seemed like grief, but surely he doesn’t feel any regret over the prisoner’s death?”

“Far from it,” Lachlan said heavily. He cast his cousin a glance. “Your extra sight is astute. Father is grieved. And although you may think him unreasonable, you judge him too harshly, I think. If the offense was against him, I truly believe he would find it easier to forgive.”

Heath frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lachlan lifted his arm, still secured in a sling. “I mean that the prisoner is the one who inflicted this injury. The physician is now quite confident that I will never be able to move my hand properly again. Apparently it was a most unlucky strike—the blade pierced a nerve just here.” Using his other hand, he tapped the inside of his upper arm, above the sling. “And it seems the damage that passed all the way to my hand will long outlive the wound itself. The restrictions will be…considerable. And Father is finding it harder to accept than I am, I think.”

Heath stared at his cousin in horror. “Lachlan,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“As am I,” Lachlan said calmly. He gave Heath a rueful smile. “It will teach me not to throw myself into a fight where I ought to let my guards do their job, I suppose.”

Heath was silent. It seemed a heavy price to pay for what had been a well-intentioned mistake. And not only would the injury be a constant frustration to Lachlan on a personal level, but it would be under endless scrutiny, the reactions of his subjects reminding him daily of how visible his limitations were.

“I don’t blame my father for being angry,” Lachlan said abruptly. “But I do believe I can talk him down from pursuing any serious consequence regarding the prisoner’s…escape.”

“That would be gracious of you both,” Heath acknowledged.

Lachlan let out a weary sigh that made him seem far older than twenty-one. “If there’s a time to be gracious, this is it. We’re all sick of conflict and tension, Heath. We want to move forward, hopefully along a very different path from the one that man was helping lead us down.”

“I wish we could just blame him,” Heath said. “But I think we all played our part.”

“Very true,” Lachlan agreed.

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