Page 85 of The Forsaken Heir
“I think so,” I said. “Have you seen Elle?”
He shook his head. “She came down for breakfast a few hours ago, but I haven’t seen her since. I think she's in her room with Delphine.”
“Good. Go see if she’s ready. If so, escort her down to the front door.”
“On it,” he said and went running for the stairs.
I headed to the entryway to await her arrival. Vincent awaited me there, along with his father. As always, my friend stood beside Lord Beatrix with his head down, lookingmuchsmaller than he really was. It irritated me that his father intimidated him so much.
“Lord Beatrix,” I said with a nod as I descended the last step.
“Prince Aurelius. I assume all is ready for the procession to the Laurent territories?”
“Your assumption is correct.”
“And my son is still accompanying you?” he asked, giving Vincent a sidelong glance.
I could see he was still confused as to why I would bring his “strange and awkward” son along on such an important mission. Another sign that, while Vincent was loved, he was not respected. The two were apparently not mutually exclusive. Though, I supposed it could be worse. Benedictus hadn’t resorted to exiling and trying to murder his son the way the Laurents had with Elle.
“He is, indeed.” I gave Vince a reassuring smile. My friend glanced up and grinned back at me, before lowering his head again.
“Very well, though I would be honored if a few members of my own security team went along. As, uh, backup, perhaps?”
“No need,” I said. “My entire security detail and some of my father’s top men will be accompanying me. With them, as well as your son, we should be all set.”
Benedictus looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. “A fantastic plan, my prince. How are you feeling about the mission, by the way? Confident? I have to admit, I am worried about what the Laurents will do with you in their territory. Need I remind you what happened to Tiberius?—”
“Head in a box. Yeah, yeah, I’ve been told. It’s going to be dangerous, but it must be done. We have to clear Elle’sname. She won’t be safe until everyone is assured she’s not a skinwalker.”
Benedictus eyed me, dark speculation in his expression. Finally, he gave me a knowing grin. “You’re going to try and play at negotiation, aren’t you? Going to live up to your nickname again? Peacemaker?”
I sighed heavily, annoyed that the man knew me so well. “If things go well, and the chance arises? Of course, I’ll try to negotiate a full peace treaty between our two races. Perhaps, once the ruse has been shown to be false, the Laurents will see that the only way they can survive the revelation of their duplicity is by making peace with us.”
Benedictus snorted a laugh. “Those are a lot of big words for something that sounds like—forgive my language, Your Highness—complete bullshit. The Laurents and the wolves themselves will never allow peace between our races. Never.”
“We’ll see,” I said, though I didn’t admit that I had little hope for that. I didn’t want to see the sanctimonious smirk on Benedictus’s face.
What Itrulyheld out hope for was that, perhaps, Bastien Laurent had gone rogue and had sent the kill squad without informing his parents. I hoped that the elder Laurents believed the story of Elle being a skinwalker and had not had anything to do with her murder attempt. The deepest part of me simply wouldn’t believe her entire family really hated her that much. Not when my father and dearly departed mother had cared deeply for me. Exile was cruel, but it was nowhere near as vicious and heartless as assassination. Perhaps Bastien saw Elle as a threat to his power or something else entirely. His reaction to her at the gala had proven the sibling hate, but there was stilla chance that hatred didn’t extend all the way down the family tree.
Before I could respond, Benedictus’s gaze flicked to something over my shoulder, and he smiled politely.
“Ah, Lady Brielle,” he said.
I turned to see her descending the steps with Delphine and Rasp at her side.
She looked much different from the panting, soaking wet, moaning form I’d had bent over in my shower the night before. I smiled when she looked at me.
I was glad she’d allowed the staff to dress her appropriately. She wasn’t wearing human body armor, but the leathers that had been popular among shifters for the last few hundred years. Vambraces on each forearm, strips of leather at the outer and inner thigh, and a torso plate of leather that conformed to her body’s natural curves. Beneath that, she wore a white, long-sleeved shirt and pants similar to the riding pants she’d worn on her first day here. We hadn’t had to change or update what we used, as it was all woven with magical protections. To the untrained eye, it looked more like some form of new-aged fashion that live-action role-players would covet. The magic and leather wouldn’t do a lot for a full-fledged assault, but it would be enough to keep her protected and buy her some time while she ran for her life.
“You look great,” I said.
She stepped forward, the heels of her leather boots clicking on the marble floor. “I feel like an idiot when I get up,” she said.
“Sometimes protection looks a bit strange.”
“Yeah, like condoms,” Rasp snorted.
Delphine swatted him on the shoulder.
