Page 79 of The Crimson Princess
He strokes my hair behind my ear, tenderness in his touch. “I want nothing more than you to come back with me, Satima, but you know there are eyes everywhere right now. It’s too dangerous. I’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.”
“You know Darus wants you dead now, right?”
“If I didn’t goad Darus, he’d think something was wrong. There are politics between kings that have existed for centuries. And to your point, I can only hope he tries to kill me. That won’t go his way.” He cups my face. “I got this. And I got you.”
“Until this is over and you go back to your realm and I’m here. Now I know how silent that will be.”
“It won’t be. We are not done. And keep that damn druid’s hands off you or I swear to you, Satima, he will not survive the Challenge.” He kisses me hard and fast. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’s gone then, and I want to pull him back to me. And for reasons I don’t want to explain, my mind goes to my nightmare; to a fight to the death between King Toren and King Killian.
Chapter thirty-two
Imanagetoavoidmyfather the bulk of the remainder of the evening, and thankfully Bellar is attached to his druid king father’s hip like a scolded child. Whatever that is about, it suits me just fine, and I hope it lasts. With a little freedom from the ball and chain of the prince, I take the time to see and speak to as many contestants as possible, offering advice and answering questions; gobbling up their heartfelt praise for my mother while I try to be the leader that would make her proud.
The evening is winding down when Ambrose and Idris corner me next to a random ice display of gale green. It’s the only one at the event and looks like a blob of nothingness. Clearly my mother was in charge of décor in the past.
“Princess,” Ambrose greets, and for the first time in my young life, despite a huge crush on Ambrose, I find his blond good looks muted in comparison to all things Toren. But he’s a good gale. A good man filled with honor and I’m thankful to call him a friend.
“It’s good to see you, Ambrose,” I greet. “I’m sorry about the other night.”
Both gale warriors just stare at me with expectation. “Okay,” I say. “What is this? What is going on?”
“What are you doing with the druid prince?” Idris demands. “I thought you’d handled that.”
“Are you really going to marry him?” Ambrose asks, his tone earnest. “The druids want nothing more or less than us under their boots.”
I bristle a bit defensively. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Why doesn’t your father?” Ambrose counters. “What don’t we know?”
“He tells me if I don’t marry Bellar, we’ll go to war.”
Ambrose holds out his hands. “And? Then let’s go to war. We will not bow to the druid king.”
This is the moment of truth or lies, and if I lie and they find out, they will never trust me again. “King Toren’s twin brother was rallying the druids to join with him, steal the Book of Life, and take over Ravengale and Bloodstone.”
“And this scares our king?” Ambrose asks incredulously. “I thought the book made him almighty?” There’s a hint of resentment I do not expect from Ambrose and that one of our most loyal gales could feel such a thing, suggests it’s a more widespread sentiment.
“It’s bigger than that,” I explain, deciding right then they need in on this. Toren would tell his team. We need those gales who fight for us to have a reason to stand with us. “Ruhn plans to open Third World and rule it as well.”
“Ruhn has no power over the portals,” Ambrose says. “There’s still more to this.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “There is. Apparently, there’s a powerful sorceress, perhaps the oldest living being, he’s been trying to summon from wherever she hides. Third World, I think.”
“Then why the hell are we opening the portal tomorrow?” Idris demands. “And how do you know all this? When I was with you and him by the forest, he wasn’t forthcoming with you.”
“I know,” I say. “That’s all I’m going to say on this. What you need to know is that there seems to be something the book has told my father that is driving his actions. And that I’m not going to marry Bellar, but I think this show he’s putting on with the druids is all about changing the trajectory of things. We get through tomorrow and I think he’ll pull back from them. I hope. If not, we’ll deal with it then.”
“It would be nice if he had told us this,” Idris complains. “What if the book told him to submit to the druids?”
This is a time when I hold back. The last thing they need to know right now is that the book is the sorceress and we’ve all been jerked around by her for centuries. I’ll deal with that later with Toren and my father. For now, I say what I sense they need to hear. “I will never submit to the druids.Wewill never submit to the druids. I will never allow Ravengale to submit to the druids.Pleasetrust me.”
“We’ll follow you,” Ambrose states, “but your father is testing our willingness to call him king.”
“He still has the book,” I remind them. “There is a reason for everything he does. And he can destroy us all. Do not let him know your loyalty has faltered.”
“Our loyalty to the crown has not faltered,” Idris assures me. “It’s his place wearing that crown that concerns us. I get that he has the book. I get that he knows things we do not, and we follow him with our sword ready to fight for him. But a merger with the druids will not happen, and if he tries to make it happen, it ends his reign.”
“To be clear,” Ambrose adds, “not yours. Stand for us, and we stand for you.”
