CHAPTER 12

URBAN

Madness claimed my uncle, Aturro, when he was a mere forty years of age. Father said it was a broken heart that sent him crazy. I never understood how that could possibly affect someone so severely.

Until now.

The need to see her was like a constant itch in my brain. After getting caught following her by the blackmailing princess, I resisted going anywhere near Vienne for a solid week, but my resistance began to run thin.

I paced my room most days, feeling like a wild animal that had been caged and was slowly being starved to death. And she was like my food, my sustenance. As soon as I broke free of this stupid restraint I was implementing on myself, I had a bad feeling I would try to feast on her like a savage beast.

But with that thought rose the fear that I would come on too strong and frighten her in my desperation, scar her permanently, and possibly even endanger her unborn child. So I locked the needs in even tighter.

Except being trapped inside my own head was driving me crazy. The only moments I was able to even ~begin~ to alleviate the restlessness I felt were in the evenings when Nicolette forced me to teach her the fine art of chess.

The queen had put a damper on our fun the first few nights when she’d hovered over us like a disapproving hen, but she soon grew bored of our innocent competition. After the second night, she had a servant chaperone us instead. Last night, she hadn’t even bothered with that, and the game had grown infinitely more entertaining.

Nicolette was lively and full of mischief. She reminded me of Allera. So I quickly grew a brotherly affection for her and started quizzing her on her multiplication and division tables while we played, which brightened her mood around me even more.

Occasionally, she would slip me facts about Vienne, like how Vienne was the one who’d originally taught her the multiplication tables, or that Vienne had shown Nicolette secret tunnels within the castle, or that Vienne and Soren slept in separate rooms… Not that I needed to learn that detail, but I did so love learning that detail.

But during the days… God, during the days, I suffered. I rarely saw Allera. She and Brentley had become thick as thieves, always going off by themselves to “get to know each other.” I suppose I should’ve been pleased she was getting along so swimmingly with her betrothed, but I had thought I’d get to see her more often than this.

By day eight of this ongoing hell, I decided I needed to do something—~anything~—before I snapped.

When I felt my one true love’s presence leave the castle, I ignored the urge to follow her, and I dared to leave my bedchamber in order to explore the grounds a little.

Always one who preferred the outdoors, I found my way out of the keep, wandering out the back until I came upon the garden.

A couple dozen servants—a few of them my own that had come over from High Cliff with Allera and me—were milling about, using scythes to sweep their way across the grass and cut it short, while others crouched among the rows of flowers and bushes, clipping and plucking wilted petals and weeds as they perfected the garden to a state I hadn’t even thought possible.

Truly, I wasn’t even aware grass could be trimmed so short or grow so green. It amazed me that the entire kingdom was surrounded by nothing but sand, yet around the castle and throughout the city of Mandalay, the land was prosperous with vegetation.

There was much about this place I found intriguing.

“My lord!” one of the servants exclaimed, noticing my presence. He popped up from the bed of roses he was kneeling among to prune so he could bow to me. “Apologies. We weren’t aware a royal would be visiting the garden today. Do you wish us to stop our landscaping so you may enjoy the scenery in peace?”

“No, of course not.” I waved the suggestion away with a scoff. “Don’t stop anything on my account.” The mere suggestion that they would even consider that sounded ridiculous to my ears. “In fact,” I added, “if there’s anything I can do to help, I’d gladly lend my assistance. I’ve been craving a little manual labor.”

The man blinked blankly at me before slowly saying, “Help? Us?”

One of the High Cliff servants snickered from nearby and shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. She was used to me rolling up my sleeves and toiling among the workers whenever the mood struck. The Donnellean servants obviously weren’t used to such royal participation.

With a sigh, I shook my head to the confused Donnelly man. “Never mind,” I murmured. “I was just passing through. Carry on.”

When I fluttered a hand at him, dismissing him, he looked grateful to be excused as he bowed and hurried off with an armful of rose leaves he’d clipped.

Feeling unwelcome, I left the garden and meandered toward a palisade that separated the garden from whatever was behind it. As I neared it, I heard the sound of clanging metal, shuffling feet, and the occasional grunt of exertion. There was either a battle going on back there, or this was where the soldiers trained.

Curious about the Donnelly army, I found the opening to the gate and entered the bailey courtyard within. Two soldiers duelled while everyone else stood around, watching. No one noticed my presence as I neared the edge of the circle in order to observe the match as well.

Neither man was that talented. They placed their feet all wrong, held their swords in the worst possible positions, and failed to actually think each swing through. It seemed as if the larger man was only winning because of his natural brute strength and size.

Scowling, I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest before rubbing my chin thoughtfully.

The smaller soldier had stamina and speed plus the will to keep going. He could win easily if only he had the proper training. When the larger soldier knocked him down and he stumbled to his hands and knees not far from me, I stepped forward to hold out a hand and help him up.

He blinked at me with confusion before slowly accepting my grip. I pulled him up, and in doing so, I tugged him close enough to murmur in his ear, “He always strikes high and favors the right side, so go in low and left, and you’ll best him.”

The soldier shook his head and blinked at me. “What?”

“Low and left,” I repeated, lifting my eyebrows meaningfully. Then I shoved him back into the ring. “Trust me.”

He stared at me dumbly as if I’d spoken a foreign language. His dueling partner attacked from behind, and I was certain he was going to get flattened again, but he must’ve heard the man coming because he ducked at the last second and swung around to face his foe.

They exchanged blows for nary a minute before the soldier I’d spoken to finally took my advice. Suddenly, he swept in low to the left and was able to connect hard enough with his opponent that he tumbled the man from his feet.

A cheer rang out for him as the lumbering giant landed hard on his back in the dust. As the loser cursed and picked himself up, the victor turned to me, grinning widely, before he bowed in gratitude.

“It worked!”

I arched an eyebrow. “Of course it did.”

“Hey, who do you think you are, mate?” the defeated soldier bellowed as he brushed himself off and straightened, looming above me.

I wasn’t a short man, but this brute towered over me as if I were.

I smirked and shrugged. “Just a curious observer.”

Not far away, one of my High Cliff soldiers who’d been standing among the crowd of spectators snorted under his breath.

“A curious observer who just gave my opponent an unfair advantage,” the brute snarled.

I glanced toward the man he’d fought. Then I returned my gaze to him and pleasantly offered, “I’d be more than happy to give you a few pointers too, if you’d like.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Think you’re all that, do you, preppy pants?”

Preppy pants? I glanced down at my trousers. Huh. They were actually the least pretentious pair I owned. When I lifted my face, I shrugged. “I think I know my way around a sword fight, is all.”

“Then why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and give it a go with me, eh, mate?”

“Sounds fair enough.” Stepping forward and rolling my shoulders, I entered the fighting ring, suddenly eager for a brawl.

I needed to beat the hell out of someone. I needed it badly.

“Get him a sword,” my antagonist called.

But I lifted my hand, answering, “No need. I’ll just take yours from you… mate.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, now you’re just getting cocky, boy. But have it your way.”

Drawing his sword back to lunge at me, he began to run full bore in my direction before he swung with all his might, directly at my head. I ducked and leapt nimbly out of the way, causing him to stumble into the catcalling soldiers watching us.

A couple of men caught him before he landed face-first in the dirt. When they swung him around to face me, he straightened himself with a foul curse, no longer amused. Chest heaving as his anger exploded across his features, he roared out his battle cry and once again came at me with everything he had.

This time, when I jumped out of his way, I turned to plant my boot in his ass as he passed, ensuring he went straight to the dirt before anyone could catch him. I had his sword in my hand a moment later and was holding its blade flush against his throat. I could tell when he swallowed; his Adam’s apple pushed against the steel length.

Slowly, his gaze lifted to mine.

I grinned and pulled the sword away congenially. “That was delightful. Fancy another round?”

“How the hell did you do that?” he asked, amazed, as he took my hand when I offered him help back to his feet.

When I explained to him what he’d done wrong, he simply scratched his head. “Huh. I never noticed I did that.”

“Well, now you do. And that one…” I pointed back to the first soldier I’d given pointers to. “Can’t keep track of his feet. If you make him circle and move enough, he’ll trip himself up and go down without a single strike from you.”

From that point on, pretty much every man present wanted me to either watch their fighting strategy and give them advice, or they wanted to try to best me themselves.

It was a long, satisfying afternoon, winning every round I participated in and instructing the willing students. Sweat soaked my clothes, and my body felt worked over hard.

I blew out a gratified breath during one water break and rested my hands on my knees before squinting up at the position of the sun in the sky. Then I grumbled and dumped the last of the ladleful of water a page had handed me straight over my head before I straightened and announced, “Thanks for the fun, fellows. But I best be going. The queen gets her nose all out of joint when I’m late to supper.” I rolled my eyes to let them know what I thought of that, but they were too busy ogling me to respond.

Finally, the first big brute I’d fought said, “What do you mean, the ~queen~? You honestly think you’re having supper with the queen, do you? Just who are you, anyway, mate?”

“Oh!” Realizing I’d never properly identified myself, I bowed to the soldier, grinning when I straightened. “Sorry about that. Urban Bjorn at your service.”

They just stared at me blankly, so Indigo, one of my men from High Cliff, called, “He’s the prince of High Cliff, you daft fools.”

More silence followed. Some of the soldiers gaped stupidly; some shook their heads in outright denial.

Finally, the giant facing me laughed outright. “No,” he said. “No, you ain’t no prince.” Then, with more uncertainty, he said, “You can’t be.”

“He is,” Indigo assured him.

I shrugged, letting the men believe whatever they wanted. “I hope you don’t mind if I come back and train with you tomorrow. It’d been too long since I’d swung a sword. I was beginning to get rusty.”

When I turned away and sauntered off, the whispers that followed me were full of questions. Was I truly the High Cliff prince? They couldn’t be sure. It amused me greatly, and I was grinning by the time I returned to the keep.

Vienne had returned to the castle earlier in the afternoon; I’d felt it in my mark when she had. But it’d been easier to ignore her presence when I’d been out in the fresh air, training. Once I was cooped back up inside the castle again, her vicinity seemed to loom closer and itched at my mark more persistently.

I wondered where she’d gone today, what she had done. Then I wondered why it fucking mattered to me so much. I shouldn’t care. I would never talk to her, never touch her, never ~be~ with her.

And just like that, all the peace and contentment I’d felt from training with the soldiers vanished. I sighed, wondering how I was going to deal with this for much longer as I cleaned up for dinner in my room and changed into suitable attire. I was almost ready to leave, simply checking my reflection in the mirror when a knock came at my door.

It began to open before I could even respond, so I knew my visitor had to be Allera a split second before she barged into the chamber like she owned it.

“I’m worried about you, Urban,” she started without a single hello, how are you, or what was your day like?

I rolled my eyes and tugged my collar into place. “Yes, I’m fine, dear sister. Thanks for asking. And I had quite an eventful day, too. I actually—” I was about to tell her how I’d left the room and stumbled across the soldiers training when she talked over me.

“I just spoke with a maid from High Cliff who’s been working in the kitchen. And you have everyone worried, especially the Donnellean servants. You haven’t been eating at meals, or leaving your room, or doing much of ~anything~. They think you don’t like their cooking or the palace, and besides, this isn’t healthy. I don’t like it. Tonight, I demand you stop this stupid, self-imposed fast or imprisonment or whatever it is you have going on and finish everything on your plate.”

Turning from the mirror, I frowned at her. “I eat.”

“Not ~enough~,” she argued. “Not like you did before we came here. Before… Before ~her~.”

I straightened. That sounded very much like she was trying to blame Vienne for something Vienne should most definitely not be blamed for. “Excuse me?” I said softly.

“No! Excuse ~me~,” she railed. “Because honestly, Brother, I can’t believe you’ve tied yourself to someone like her. She’s so quiet and compliant and…and ~dull~.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Dull?”

Was she ~trying~ to piss me off?

Allera lifted her chin as if attempting to bravely confront me, even though I saw worry litter her gaze. “Yes,” she said determinedly. “Dull. And weak, too. In fact, I might go as far as to call her a doormat. She never stands up for herself whenever her sister picks at her, which is constantly. And she—”

“Allera,” I threatened, stalking steadily her way. “Shut… Up… Now.”

She shook her head. “~No~. I’m trying to warn you. Your mark has you so blinded with feeling, you can’t see it yourself, and it’s tearing you apart. I refuse to stand aside and watch my best friend waste away into nothing because of his stupid mark. So I guess I must open your eyes to how truly ~un~remarkable your mate really—”

“No,” I growled, stepping right into her face to glare. “You must do nothing of the sort! And for your information, my mark has ~opened~ my eyes, not blinded me. If you only saw what I see, you wouldn’t say such things about ~my~ one true love, you little fool.”

“Oh? Really? Well, pray tell, what ~is~ it you see in her then? What is ~so~ miraculous about your precious Vienne that has put you in this state of such utter misery?”

“I see ~her~,” I said simply. “All of her. Her flaws, her fears, her dreams, her wishes, her strengths, her strategies. And I see how wrong ~you~ are. She’s not a doormat. She’s a ~foundation~. She’s balancing this entire damned kingdom on her shoulders, and you should be fucking ~thanking~ her instead of speaking this disrespectful garbage against her.”

Allera’s mouth gaped open, but she said nothing.

“And yes,” I hissed. “She complies to her sister. But that isn’t because she’s weak. It’s because she’s strong and selfless. More selfless than you could ever imagine. She does it because she’s not just bowing to her little sister’s wishes; she’s placating the fucking queen, a very petty, vain queen, whose moods her husband—the ~king~—is very sensitive to. So if the queen’s upset, the king’s upset. And if the king’s upset, we ~all~ suffer. She’s out there, every day, taking her sister’s shit so ~we~ don’t have to. You just wait and see. The moment ~my~ one true love has that baby and goes on bedrest, this kingdom will feel the side effects, because ~she~ won’t be around to calm the waters. And you’re blind if you think all she does is let her sister use her. Many times, ~she’s~ the one craftily enticing the queen into doing what ~she~ wants. If you’d just open your own damn eyes and pay attention, you might actually see that.”

Allera opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a finger, not permitting it.

“And aside from that, have you noticed how Caulder glances her way every time he makes an edict? He relies on her common sense and unbending moral code. He might be entranced by the flash that is his wife, but it’s ~Vienne’s~ opinion that matters to him. So don’t ~ever~ speak another word to me about how small and weak and dull she is, because there’s more to her than you’ll ever realize, probably more than ~I’ll~ ever realize.”

My chest was heaving with indignation as I finished railing. Allera’s eyes flickered with regret before she bowed her head and murmured, “I apologize.”

I glanced away, not wanting to forgive her so quickly, even though I instinctively felt the urge to. Folding my arms over my chest, I felt almost…hurt.

“I can’t believe you don’t like her,” was all I could think to say. “I thought you two were actually becoming friends. Are you only faking it, then, to help me get information about her? That is not my wish.” I shook my head adamantly. “She believes she’s your friend. I don’t want you lying to or deceiving her.”

“No,” she rushed to say, grasping my arm. “I swear, I’m not deceiving her. Urban, please.” She tightened her grip emphatically. “I ~do~ like her. Honestly. In fact, she may be my favorite person here in Donnelly.”

I glanced at her, frowning. “Then why did you say all that shit about her?”

She sighed and threw her hands in the air. “For you, you idiot.”

I pulled back, confused. “For me?”

“Yes, I lied about her and called her the worst possible things I could think up for ~your~ benefit. I thought… I don’t know. You stay in your room all day and don’t go out. You don’t eat as you once did. You don’t smile anymore. I thought that maybe if I described her in an unappealing light you might not feel so bonded to her or…or something. I hoped it would assure you life could be better without her. I was trying to give you a reason not to feel so miserable without her anymore.”

I blinked at her. When she only winced, I sighed. “That is about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You thought that talking shit about my one true love would make me like her ~less~? Really? It’s like you were never mated yourself.”

“Hey!” she muttered with a scowl. “I remember exactly how enamored the mark made me toward Jazon. I just… You act so coolly and distant when she’s around. I hoped maybe it was different for you. Less strong…or something.”

“Trust me,” I assured her on a sniff. “It’s not less strong. I still feel the bond with every fiber of my being.”

Allera shook her head, her expression falling into gloom. “Then how do you act as if she isn’t even there every evening at royal mealtime?”

“I stab myself repeatedly in the thigh with my dinner fork.”

She blinked. “Truly?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No. Not truly.”

With a gasp, Allera smacked my arm. “Urban! I actually believed you.”

Still grinning, I shook my head. “But I do hold my breath a lot. For some reason, holding my breath helps.”

“Holding your breath?” She studied me a moment before shaking her head. “Well, whatever gets the job done, just keep it up. It’s working.”

I shook my head and sighed. “But for how long?”

“For however long it takes.” She hooked her arm through mine and faced us toward the door. “Now, let us depart, dear brother. We have a royal meal to attend, one you’ll actually eat tonight.”

Grumbling under my breath, I escorted her out the door. All the while, I wondered how long I really would have to keep the ruse up. We were eight days in now, and it already felt like more than I could stand.

I honestly wasn’t sure if I had the constitution to endure this much longer.