Loving War : The Eighth Son, page 18
He nodded, his eyes on her as the door shut, closing them off from one another.
Gwen approached him. “Does the Queen need help?”
Cillian eyed her and stepped back, “I wouldn’t know.”
Gwen frowned at him. “Is she in her room?”
“She is.”
Gwen shook her head, annoyed, and walked inside the Queen’s room, exposing her naked upper body to the guard.
Charlotte looked up, her eyes falling on him, as he stared back at her, not flinching. She swallowed as he observed her until the door again disconnected them.
Gwen rolled her eyes. “That man is so annoying. I will be glad when we are rid of him.”
“I’m thinking of asking Ambrose if he can come home with me,” Charlotte replied.
“What?” Gwen shrieked.
Charlotte frowned at her reaction. “What is wrong?”
“Home? Your Grace. I thought those oils and tinctures and God knows what else they were giving you down in that basement healed you.”
Charlotte chuckled, “I feel wonderful; the best I have felt in years.” She smiled. “I feel like the woman I was when I first met Octavian.”
“Yes. Well,” Gwen looked back at the door, “that man can stay here.”
“I don’t know. I like him.” Charlotte shrugged.
Gwen rolled her eyes again.
“Why do you do that? Just say what you’re thinking. Don’t roll your eyes like a child,” Charlotte scolded her.
Gwen raised her brows. “You sound like King Octavian.”
“Well, he was right. I was behaving like a child. I see that so clearly now.” She sighed, thinking of her husband.
Something she tried not to do, or the possibilities of what was happening between Tavian and Ursula. The ache those thoughts created inside her gut was too powerful and brought her to tears.
“Your Grace, I feel it would be a grave mistake for that man to come to Ivoca.”
“Grave mistake? Goodness, tell me,” Charlotte said as Gwen helped her into a new gown.
Gwen sighed and said, “Nothing exactly, just the story of who he is. Something about it disturbs me.”
“What story?” Charlotte asked, combing out her long, ruby hair.
“Well, he has no father. The man left when he and his brother were young.”
“Oh,” Charlotte winced, her heart going out to Cillian. “I didn’t know he had a little brother,” she added, setting her hairbrush down.
“Yes, he cares for him now that his mother has died.”
Charlotte inhaled and then whispered, “That is terrible. How did she die?”
“That I do not know. All I was told is that the brother is eleven and already training for the guard.”
“Well, that is hardly information that would make me dislike him. What are you not telling me?”
“There is a rumor that the reason he joined the guard was to assassinate a king.”
Charlotte raised her brows. “Which King? Ambrose?”
Gwen shook her head. “That I do not know.”
“Well, it would not be Tavian,” Charlotte scoffed.
“Does it not worry you?” Gwen asked.
Charlotte frowned. “People are always wagging their tongues about something or other. You can’t believe all that you hear.”
“Very well, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Gwen frowned.
Charlotte nodded as she opened the door and looked at Cillian, standing as he always was.
“Come on,” she commanded, walking past him down the hall, with Gwen staring after them.
“Where are we off to now?” he asked, his steps inches within hers.
“I need to go to the market,” Charlotte responded.
Cillian took a giant step, walking in front of her. Charlotte smiled to herself as he did. She knew he refused to walk behind her. He told her he could not protect her as efficiently.
Mildred met them outside and narrowed her eyes on Charlotte.
“What did you mean by that?”
Charlotte stopped and looked at her cousin. “By what?”
“That I should try it sometime, playing. Do you find me stuffy?” Mildred asked, Charlotte’s words still bothering her.
Charlotte sighed, “No,” she hesitated and glanced at Cillian, who raised his brows at her.
“Well, maybe a little, but that is just who you are.”
Mildred pursed her lips and stated, “No.”
“No?” Charlotte repeated, questioning Millie’s response.
“No, it is not. I can be fun.”
Mildred walked away; climbing the castle steps, she shouted back at Charlotte, “I will show you how fun I can be.”
“Mildred,” Charlotte hollered after her.
Millie turned and looked down at her from the top of the steps. “Be sure you stop and get a new gown after the market.”
“New gown?”
“Yes, I am throwing a ball before you leave for Ivoca.”
“Millie,” Charlotte groaned.
“It’s settled,” the Queen of Malan turned on her heels, heading into the castle.
Charlotte twisted her mouth and looked at Cillian.
She shrugged. “Well, that-”
“Was interesting,” he finished for her.
Charlotte smiled. “Yes.”
They walked down the dirt path to the market in silence. The trees on both sides rustled in the cool breeze. Gwen’s words about the man beside her bounced around Charlotte’s mind.
She glanced at Cillian, and when the silence overtook her nerves, she exclaimed, “Do you want to come home with me, Cillian?”
The guard stopped walking and looked at her. “Your Grace?”
Charlotte smiled and shook her head, realizing how her question came out. “What I meant was when I return to Ivoca in two weeks, will you join me? I would love for you to be my guard at home.”
Cillian continued to walk but did not speak; his regular stoic face turned away from Charlotte.
“Well? Would you?”
Cillian eyed her and said. “Why? Why would you want me to come to Ivoca? I am sure there are plenty of guards there.”
Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes, aware that she had scolded Gwen for the very thing an hour ago.
“None like you,” she said, no longer walking.
She didn’t move as he turned, staring at her.
“Think about it. Your brother can come, too, of course.”
Cillian narrowed his gaze on her. “How do you know about Finn?”
“I don’t, not really.”
Charlotte took a step forward, standing in front of him.
He looked down at her. “What are you doing?”
“How did your mother die?”
He took a breath, knowing he was not getting out of her interrogation.
“We could not afford medicine, so her cough got worse, and her body was weak. Her lungs filled with fluid, and she drowned.”
Charlotte sighed; her heart hurt as she watched his face transform. The young man, who never emoted, stood in front of her now as grief washed over him.
“That is terrible. Could no one help you?”
“No.”
Charlotte swallowed. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“So-”
“My mother spent every last penny she earned on my education. So, I continued my training. I would be damned if she died for nothing.” His voice was harsh, as if it was Charlotte’s fault she had died.
“Which is how you came to be here?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Well, Cillian, I think she would be proud of you,” Charlotte paused and added, “is proud of you.”
“Perhaps,” he said.
“You are very good at what you do. I know she is.”
“Yes, I am,” he replied and started walking.
Charlotte tilted her head, catching up to him, and smiled. “So confident.”
“I have no reason not to be. Like you said, I am good at what I do. I can fight better than most men. I am educated. One day, I will be the King’s advisor.”
“And get your own army?” Charlotte asked as Baron flashed through her mind.
“Yes, though I will lead them for my own cause, not the King’s.”
Charlotte raised her brows. “Cause?” She smiled. “You are only nineteen. How can you already have your own cause?”
He stopped and turned, peering down at her. “I will remind you again, Your Grace, that my age has little to do with who I am.”
Charlotte swallowed as the intensity of his eyes burned through her, and his commanding presence made her shrink back.
He was right about that. She did not feel like she was conversing with someone of his age. The tone of his voice and stoic manner was unnerving to her.
“I am starting to understand that,” she whispered. “So tell me then, Cillian, what is this cause?”
He blinked, his eyes locked with hers, and his face returned to its emotionless stature. His following words sent a severe chill straight through the Queen of Ivoca.
“To kill a King.”
He Needs Her
After returning home, Tavian went to work preparing for the tournament. The envoys deployed would arrive at their destinations any day now.
He was anxious about the responses, especially from Ambrose.
If he knew Philip, and he did, the old goat knew of the tournament long before the envoy arrived. Tavian was aware of the spy he had lurking around somewhere in Ivoca. He thought nothing of it because he, too, had a few scattered in Malan.
In the last five months, Tavian had gotten good at keeping his mind occupied. This evening, however, as he sat alone, finished with his business for the day, the familiar ache found a way back. He missed Charlotte; he hid it so well, even from himself. His anger and devastation provided the ability to wear a tough mask, preventing him from reaching the core of how he felt for her.
Tavian jogged down the wooden stairs leading to the beach. It had been weeks since he could enjoy his favorite pastime. He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his pants, walking in his bare feet. The sand was soft beneath his feet, and his toes sank in as the warm water lapped across his ankles.
Walking the shore, alone with his thoughts, he listened to the waves, hoping the lullaby would soothe him.
Weeding through all the choices he made the last few months; his mind wandered back, combing over the previous fourteen years of his life as a king and meeting Charlotte. How innocent and yet seductive she was. The morning in Benediction, she found him in the hallway with Beth.
“Don’t laugh, Your Grace, and do not test me. I am a match for any man.”
The look on her face when she spoke to him. Her words shot straight into his heart. Though he had not realized it, he loved her then. He smiled when he thought of her jousting, how damn proud he was of her, and yet he had to scold her. He confessed his love to her that day.
“Charlotte, don’t you understand? Do you not feel it? I love you. I am in love with you!”
The welcome shock on her face and the tears she shed. As if she was unworthy of his love.
The birth of the twins and all that followed. That night in the garden, Charlotte was terrified, and yet she gave herself to him. She needed him as much as he needed her. How devastated she was when he told her of Ursula. He looked out at the ocean and remembered her words to him.
“Our life will never be easy. I know that now, but it is blessed, and we can make it as beautiful or as ugly as we choose. That is the thing, Tavian. It is our choice. And I choose you. Every day, every situation, every obstacle, I will always choose you.”
Tavian sat on the beach, the full moon shining down on the ocean, the air calm and warm, as memories invaded his thoughts. Charlotte’s words echoed through his mind. His gut reeled with heartache and guilt as he thought about his wife and his family, all of it hanging by a thread.
He gave in to the overwhelming pain, letting his tears fall, which turned to sobs. He hated that he still loved Charlotte so much; she was a thorn in his side, and yet she was what soothed him; she was his serenity. He was so angry at her for breaking him, furious at her for not sticking to her promise, which she made to him here in the water. She drove him to this place, and he didn’t know if he could ever forgive her. It was that anger that made him carry on with Ursula. It scared him. There were times he felt no remorse after sleeping with Sula, but then other times, quiet times like now, the crippling guilt enshrouded him.
Tavian wiped his face, clearing the tears from the carousel of torture that spun around in his mind. He inhaled, gathering strength to calm himself.
“Your Grace,” Daniel called out from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs.
He had been standing quietly, holding a letter for the King. When he saw Tavian on the beach alone, gazing out at the water, he stayed back, giving the King some time.
Tavian stood and walked up the beach to Daniel.
“Yes,” he said, his face stained from his tears.
Daniel sighed when he saw the King’s face. “Oh, son,” he said, “I am sorry.”
“For what?” Tavian asked.
“Octavian, you do not have to pretend with me,” he said, taking the King’s hand, “I am sorry, boy.”
Tavian smiled through his tears. “You know, through the deceit and betrayal, the lies, all of it.” He looked at Daniel, “Why?” he said, his armor failing him, giving way to soft tears, “Why do I still love her?”
Daniel pulled him into a hug.
“Son, we have no control over who we love. All we can do is control our choices and how we react to the choices others make.”
Tavian held onto Daniel for a moment before straightening and wiping his face. He looked up at the top of the staircase and saw Mary looking down at him. She did not move or speak.
He looked at Daniel, “I still have hope that my Charlotte is in there somewhere. But, having no word from Malan since the last letter months ago,” he paused, “I wonder if there was no progress with her.”
“Well, I am not sure if this message will make things better or worse for you, My King.”
“Message?”
Daniel held up a letter. “From Queen Mildred.”
Tavian swallowed. Was it the letter he was waiting for? He was not sure if he should be hopeful or afraid.
Tavian broke the seal and scanned over the letter as fast as his eyes could focus, with the moon as his light source.
“Well?” Daniel asked anxiously.
Tavian looked up, his signature smile spreading across his face. “She is doing well. She is healing, and they are sending her home in a few weeks. Charlotte should be home before we head to Benediction.”
Daniel watched the King, noting his expression as he told him the news.
Tavian closed his eyes and inhaled the salty sea air filling his lungs. He exhaled, and a shred of anxiety went along with it.
“It is good to know she is doing better,” Daniel whispered.
“Yes.”
“But?” Daniel asked.
“I have no idea where she and I even begin. How do we heal after what she broke?”
“She has done a lot of damage.”
“As have I.” Tavian added, “Let’s not forget, I have been carrying on with Ursula as if she is the queen.”
“Octavian.” Daniel began, but the King put his hand up.
“No need to defend me. I know what I have done. I will pay whatever price I must. Regardless, I made a choice. Now, I must deal with the consequences.”
Daniel nodded, “You need to remember you are the King, and honestly, in the last few months, I have seen that in you again. But I have also seen you become hard and bitter. That is not you. You have always maintained an outstanding balance.”
Tavian closed his eyes and exhaled, “What are you saying?”
“I am the last person to advise on marriage and love,” he replied.
Tavian furrowed his brow. “Why do you say that? You and Helen have over a decade of happy years.”
“Yes, it is true, she and I have a very amicable marriage, but what you and Charlotte have,” he paused and cleared his throat, “well, that is something hard to find.”
Tavian closed his eyes and tipped his head back as if the words from his uncle hurt.
“Daniel, stop filling his head with nonsense,” Mary scolded as she approached the men. “Octavian, look at me.”
The King lowered his head as he focused on his mother.
“Your uncle is right about one thing. In the last few months, the King, the man that the Kingdom of Ivoca has grown to love and adore, has returned. So be it if you are a bit harsh and rougher around the edges; it will only do you good.”
Tavian scowled. “You both keep saying I’m back. Where did I go?”
He glanced from Daniel to Mary, waiting for an answer.
“The last year before we found Henry, you seemed very distracted.” Daniel stopped speaking as he watched the emotions roll over the King’s face.
Mary picked up the pieces and said, “Charlotte buried you under a mountain of lies and betrayal, but I have seen you claw your way out and emerge even stronger.” She placed her hand on her son’s cheek. “Is it a coincidence that it happened while Ursula was here and Charlotte was not?”
Tavian sighed, “Mother, please.”
Mary shook her head as she lowered her hand. “I am not saying these things to upset you or because I loathe the Queen. I am saying them because it is the truth.”
Tavian looked at Daniel, who gazed back at him and, after a moment, shook his head, placing his hand on Octavian’s shoulder, “My son, you will know what to do. You have been making the hard decisions since you got here fourteen years ago.”
“Yes, I have and will continue to make them.”
Mary nodded.
“Yes, you will because, like it or not, Octavian McClen, you are a king first,” Mary confirmed.
Octavian glanced at them before he turned, walking back to the castle. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, and said, “You are wrong, Mother. I am a father first. Nothing and no one will ever come before my children.” He pointed at her. “You taught me that.”
“But right now, I have to concentrate on this damn tournament, not the woman in my life.” He moved his finger, pointing at Daniel. “You taught me that.”
