Flames were everywhere.

Heat coated my face, and my nose was assaulted by the smell of singed straw and charred flesh.  The courtyard was a shambles of burned and broken bodies, men who fell from the walls or were hit by debris from the catapult’s ammunition, and the sounds of the few skirmishes still going on.  I rode among it all until I came to the entrance to the castle.  Parnell pointed out that the fires were close but did not seem to be advancing any longer.  There was plenty of time to find Alexandra and get out, but where was she?

Rylan, Parnell, and I all dismounted and entered the castle with a dozen men behind us.  I didn’t know my way around the building, for I had been inside only twice before—once as a child and again when I lay with Whitney.

That particular thought now made me feel ill.

At each turn, we were met by a handful of soldiers and guards though not nearly enough to cause our advance to slow.  Many tried to surrender to me, and each one of them was cut down.  When I was done, there would be nothing left of the castle of Hadebrand, the family, or any loyalists that resided within.  I knew there would be some—some who were not so loyal to Hadebrand—who would also perish.  Unless I knew with absolute certainty that they could be trusted, I would not take the chance, and there was only one man within Hadebrand whose loyalties were pledged to me.

There had been no sign of my trusted captain, Greysen.  If I could locate him, I would spare the few he said could be trusted, but without his judgment, none within the castle walls would survive.

“King Branford!” Rylan called out.  I pulled my sword from a dead guard’s innards and walked over to meet him.  He pointed with the tip of his weapon, and I looked down into the lifeless eyes of another familiar foe.

Prince Gage.

“You took his life?” I questioned.

“I did not,” Rylan informed me.  “I found him like this.”

“I want the name of his killer,” I said as I turned and gestured to Erik.  “Get me an answer.”

“I will find out who did this, my king,” he said with a quick nod.

I returned the gesture and even found myself smiling a little as the boy rushed off.  He was going to make a fine replacement for…

I abruptly shook the thought from my head.  Such memories would lead where I did not wish to go.  If I were to think of Michael for too long, I would remember why he wasn’t here.

She must be close…

I did not feel her presence, and this agitated me.  Somewhere there would be a lower area—possibly even a pit—where prisoners were kept.  Would they dare hold a royal prisoner in a dungeon?  A more likely place would be a tower or an isolated wing of the castle.  We headed through the towers and upper rooms, killing everyone who crossed us, and found nothing.

There was no sign of Alexandra to be found, not even a shred of clothing.  We also found no sign of the king or queen of Hadebrand, and I started to wonder if they had escaped during the battle.  I sent two of the farmers-turned-soldiers to race back outside to the cavalry to have them search for any evidence of flight.

In one of the upper rooms, we found Hedda, Whitney’s young sister, and Hedda’s twin brother, Jared.  The soldiers took them to the throne room of the castle where they could be used against the rest of the family.  I tore through the remainder of the royal chamber but found nothing.  I raced to the other wing of the castle, the lower levels, the dungeon, and kitchens, dropping guards and servants alike, but found no sign of my wife.

She was not here.

As I made my way once more through the upper level, slight movement from the far end of the corridor caught my eye.  I waved the other guards back down the long staircase while I went to see what was there, telling myself I had only imagined it.  We had cleared out this area already, and I did not think anyone else could be up here.

I turned at the end of the hallway and entered the royal bedchamber just in time to see a flash of black cloth as it disappeared behind a large, ornate wood carving, which hung on the far wall. I raced over to it and yanked it from the wall.  Behind was a small alcove, and King Edgar stared back at me with wide, surprised eyes.

For a moment, I felt as if I were in a dream.  Here he was, right in front of me, and I wasn’t sure what I should do.  This was something I had desired for so long—to have this man in front of me without guards and with just cause to take his life—and I did not know how to respond.  It was my moment of hesitation that allowed him to slip past me and try to run from the room.  Even in my momentary stupor, he was not fast enough, and I caught up with him before he could reach the door.  Edgar quickly jumped back and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“King Branford, what are you doing?”

“I’m here to destroy you and your family for what you have done,” I replied softly.  “Is that not obvious?”

“It was your own cousins who devised that plan!” he said.  “I knew nothing of the handmaid or the tea!”

His gaze shifted quickly to the door and then back to me again.  I knew he was lying, and I told him so as my sword hovered between us.

“You have already made those responsible pay for that,” he said. “There is no more need for bloodshed!”

“No need?”  I snorted.  “You seize my wife and have the audacity to look shocked when I break down your door?”

“Seize your…seize your wife…?”

“Do not play innocent with me!”  I bellowed as I swung my sword in an arc near his head.  “I will not stand for it any longer!”

“King Branford, I have no knowledge of Alexandra’s kidnapping.  I swear—”

“Where is my wife?” I screamed.  I had tried to keep my voice calm and low before, but it was no longer working.  I was quickly losing whatever dignity I might have left.  The muscles in my arms were sore from battle but still cried out for more bloodshed.

“King Branford, you must believe me!  I have no idea where your queen may be.”

I slowly raised my sword and held it in both of my hands as I pointed it to him.

“I will not listen to your lies,” I said quietly.  “You will die for everything you have done to me and to my family.

“Branford…listen to me—”

I laughed and I stalked toward him.  I felt as if I were in a trance as everything he had caused slowly traversed through my memories—my parents’ death, the misplaced faith of the mentors I had trusted with my life, the presence of the handmaid who harmed my wife, Alexandra’s disappearance…

I heard my own voice drop to a whisper.

“Perhaps you thought I had no breaking point, but believe me—I am broken now.”

He barely drew his sword in time before my blade crashed into his.  There was little room for fighting in the enclosed quarters.  Inside my head, the visions continued as I swung my blade at Edgar again and again.  He parried, ducked, and tried to escape over his bed, and I lunged toward him, taking the bed’s canopy down and leaving the silk drapes scattered around the floor.  I leapt over the bed and attacked again.

Edgar rolled over on his back and kicked out with both of his feet.  They connected with my gut and knocked me backwards as the blow knocked the wind from me.  I gasped and tried to right myself before he came at me, but he had the upper hand as he clashed his blade into mine and sent me reeling backwards to the wall behind me.

He followed after but made the mistake of setting his sights on me and me alone.  The silk from the bed still lay strewn across the floor, and his boot caught on the fabric.  He lost his balance and tripped just as I spun, turned to the side, and slipped my blade across his wrist.

It was only a small cut—not deep enough to kill—but it sliced the tendon, and he cried out as he dropped his sword.  I grabbed him and threw him against the wall, my body following after.  With my blade extended, I crashed into him.  I felt the resistance of the wall as my sword exited through his back and struck stone.

I looked down into his face, my breath escaping from my lungs in short bursts, and slowly twisted my wrist.  His shoulders clenched and turned inward, and his mouth opened and closed twice before he slumped forward a little.  I took two quick steps back, and my sword slid from his chest as I moved away from him.

The king of Hadebrand, the man who exerted his own will over my kingdom and was responsible for my parents’ deaths, slowly slid to the ground with his back still up against the wall.  His fingers twitched slightly toward the blade that lay several feet out of his reach as if there were some way he could seize it now.  Edgar’s eyes stared up at me for a moment, and he seemed as though he wished to convey some message to me before his look glazed over, and he stopped moving.

I stared at the dead man until my own eyes felt dry and burned from the smoke outside the windows.

Edgar had known nothing of Alexandra’s disappearance.  It was all over his face—etched within his eyes as I killed him.  He didn’t know where she was or why we had come to destroy him on this day.  He had no idea it was the common people of Silverhelm who were now tearing the walls of his castle to the ground.

And I still had no idea where she was or what was happening to her.

All the mental blocks I had placed inside my head since we rode from Silverhelm crumbled, and thoughts of everything my enemies may have done to Alexandra rushed over me.  I took a few steps backward, only stopping when I hit the stone wall behind me.  It was cold, but I barely felt the chill.  I could only feel the stifling heat and stale air of the bench where I cowered and hid as screams echoed through my mind.

I should not feel this pain any more.  Edgar was dead now, and my father and mother had finally been avenged.  I should not feel like this again.  Edgar was gone, and there was no way he could harm anyone in my family any longer.  He could not harm me.  There was no cramped space underneath a bench, and the screams in my head were not real.  I knocked my head against the stone to try to dislodge the memories from my mind and focus on the present.

Alexandra?  Where are you?

My hands shook, and I tried to ball them into fists to make them stop, but it didn’t work.  I could barely draw breath, and when I did, I could smell blood and sweat and death all around me.  Was she here?  Had they killed her?

“Do not touch him,” I heard someone say, “lest you have no regard for your own life.  Give him a few moments.”

I became aware that my hand, still clenched into a fist, was slamming repeatedly into the limp body of the dead king on the floor.  I cried out and pushed myself back to the wall, forcing my fists into my eyes as I tried to erase the images in my mind.

After some time had passed—seconds, minutes, I wasn’t sure—I opened my eyes slowly to see Parnell standing a few feet from me with both Erik and Rylan behind him.  One of his arms was held out to the side, blocking young Erik’s advance.

“My king?” Parnell tilted his head to one side and took a half step forward.

I tried to inhale slowly, but my body did not obey my commands.

“Branford.”  This time I felt his hand lightly on my arm, and I met his gaze.

“I have to find her,” I said quietly.  “I have to find her now.”

“We shall,” Parnell said.

I looked at Edgar’s corpse on the ground and watched, fascinated for a moment, as his blood spread across the floor.  Who else would know where she was hidden?  If the dungeons and outlying buildings were all empty, where else would she be?

“Is there no sign?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“None, my king.” Parnell hesitated.  “We have been through all of the castle and the surrounding areas.  They must have her hidden somewhere else.”

“Where?” I turned and stared him in the eye.  “Where is she?”

“The rest of the royal family is in the throne room,” Parnell informed me.  “One of them has to know.”

“Whitney,” I said with a nod.  “Whitney will have known about it all along.”

“Then let us get the information you need from her.”

I looked around a moment, and I noticed both Rylan and Erik had moved out of earshot.  I leaned close to Parnell and spoke quietly in his ear.

“What of Greysen?”

“No sign of him,” Parnell said.  His voice was grim.  “He would not have fought against your forces, and I would have expected him to show himself by now, just as Rylan’s spy has done.”

“He should be here,” I said in a similar tone.  “What if he was discovered?”

“Then there is nothing we could do for him now,” Parnell said, and I knew he was right.

“To the throne room?”

“Yes, my king.”

The rest of them were there—Queen Margaret, her two daughters, and her youngest son.  Margaret and Whitney were both bound and held by a guard, but the twins only had their hands tied behind their backs and cloth secured across their mouths.  They sat on the floor near one of the regal thrones.  Jared struggled against his bonds, but he could not loosen them.

“Your husband and Prince Gage are dead,” I told Margaret.  “You will all die soon if the whereabouts of my wife is not revealed.”

“You are insane,” Margaret yelled, “just like your father!  You have no idea what you should do for your kingdom, which was made most obvious when you refused to unite us!  All of this blood is on your hands!”

“And there will be a damn lot more of it if you don’t answer me!” I screamed into her face.  “Where is my wife?”

“Always so melodramatic!” Whitney sighed.  I turned toward her and glared.

“If you know anything of this…”  I let my voice trail off.  There was something in her eyes I did not like—at all.  It was…knowledge.  “You know where she is.”

The princess merely shrugged.

“She knows nothing of the sort!” Margaret said, but the tone of her voice had changed.  She, too, was looking at her daughter, and I could see the doubt in her eyes.

“You will die if you have touched her,” I said to Whitney.  “Where is she?”

“What difference does it make?” Whitney asked.  “You do not need her; you never have.  I am here for you.”

I scoffed and shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her.  Could she be serious?  As many times as I had told her she would not be made my queen, could she still think there is a possibility of a union?

“Branford, be reasonable.” Whitney cooed at me.  “We are meant to be, not you and some common trash—”

Whatever else she was going to say remained stuck in her throat as I backhanded her across the face.  She squealed like an animal and fell to the side before Parnell could right her again.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Margaret screeched from across the room.

“Where is my wife?” I snarled again at Whitney.  I pulled back my hand to hit her a second time while her mother yelled at me.

“I said stay away from her!  Do you hear me?  She is my daughter and a princess!  You will not treat her so!”

I turned and eyed Margaret standing in front of one of my soldiers with her arms pinned behind her back.  I stalked slowly over to her and leaned down until my face was but inches from hers.

“Do you know where my wife is?” I asked her quietly.

“No, I do not,” she said in her haughty tone.  “And if I did, I would not—”

Margaret’s sentence ended in a choking gasp as my blade slid easily into her.  I placed my hand on her shoulder and pushed down at the same time I pulled up with my sword arm, impaling her further with a twist of the blade.

“Then I have no more use for you,” I told her lifeless eyes.

As her body dropped to the ground, I turned back to Whitney.  Her eyes were wide as she tried to take a step forward but found herself still in Parnell’s grasp and unable to move.  I could hear the muffled cries of Jared and Hedda through their gags.

“King Branford,” Parnell said quietly, “are you sure you want to—”

“Every tower razed.” I repeated my statements from this morning.  “No one loyal to Hadebrand survives.  No one.”

My gaze moved briefly to the twins where they cowered in the corner of the room.  Hedda’s wide eyes were red and swollen as she stared at her mother’s lifeless body.  I swallowed hard and turned back to the older princess.

“Tell me now.”  I growled as I pointed my sword at her.

Whitney’s gaze moved slowly from the body on the floor back to mine.  Her breath came in short, choppy huffs as Parnell yanked her backwards to hold her steady.

“Where is Alexandra?” I yelled again.

“She can rot right where she is!” Whitney screamed back at me, apparently not even realizing her admission.

She knows.

It was revealed in her eyes as well as betrayed on her lips.  Edgar…Edgar had not known the plots of his daughter though he had also answered for them.  The deed itself, though, had all been Whitney’s.  The woman was obviously insane to think such a plot would work to bring her into my good graces, and now she was going to tell me where to find Alexandra.

“Erik,” I called out, and my young page appeared at my side.

“Yes, King Branford?”

“Fetch four horses and bring them to the field just outside the castle walls.”

“Yes, sire!”

“Parnell?”

“My king?”

“Bring Whitney to the field.”

Our eyes met, and I could see within his that he knew exactly what I intended to do.  He had not the stomach for it, but he nodded his acceptance and began to push the princess out of the chamber.

“What of those two?” Rylan asked.

I looked to Hedda and Jared, both still bound and gagged with tears running down their faces.  They had just watched their mother die, and they had to know Whitney was next.  Jared was a stranger to me since he had only just begun to battle in tournaments, but I recalled Hedda.  Alexandra had even talked of taking care of her as a babe.  She had grown much since I had last seen her a few years ago.

“No supporter of Hadebrand survives,” I said simply.  I waved over one of the soldiers, and he came forth to bow before me.  I leaned close to him and put my hand on his shoulder.  “Kill the offspring of Hadebrand.  Be quick and merciful, and deliver the heads of the royal family to the front of the castle when it is done.”

I could see the man’s throat bob slightly as his gaze met with the young girl’s fearful expression.  He nodded quickly, and I could see the resignation in his eyes.

“Yes, my king.”

“Good man,” I said quietly as I took my hand from his shoulder.  He looked up to meet my gaze, and I could see the questions in his eyes.  “Survivors with grudges lead to future wars.  With each of their lives, you save the lives of your kingdom’s future children.”

I saw the understanding in his expression, and I knew the deed would be done quickly.  I did not look at Jared or Hedda again but looked instead to their sister, whose blood would soon be on my hands in a much more direct way.  I took one more glance at the soldier who would be the executioner of the youngest of Edgar’s children.

“It will be done,” he said.  His voice was hoarse and caught in his throat.

“You will perform this duty,” I said, making sure we both knew there was no question about it.

“It is my honor to serve Silverhelm, King Branford,” he said with a more definitive tone.

I nodded and followed Rylan out the door to the tournament arena behind Hadebrand’s castle.  It was the very same place I had first laid eyes on my beautiful wife.  I remembered it vividly.

“What is your name?” I questioned the beautiful creature before me.  I was glad for my armor and the ability it had to hide my excitement and lust.

“Alexandra, my lord.” She responded so quietly I only barely made out her answer.  I watched the color brighten her cheekbones until she dipped her head, causing her hair to fall across part of her face.

“Are you agreeable?” I asked as I tilted my head to get a better view of the face she tried to hide behind her long hair.

“My lord?” she asked quietly.  She obviously did not understand my meaning.

“Are you agreeable, Alexandra?” I said again.  I decided to make an official proposal so there would be no further doubt in the young maid’s mind.   “Will you agree to marry me?”

I had been so sure of my course, and I knew my action would anger Edgar into a response.  He had already made it clear he believed Sterling lands should be part of Hadebrand, and having the son of those lands insult him in such a way would require action.  I had given no thought to the handmaid whose life I would turn upside down in my quest for King Edgar’s head.  I had no idea what I would drag her into.  Even if I had known at the time, it would not have mattered to me.

I no longer cared as much about Sterling lands, avenging my parents, or Edgar’s death.  The only thing that mattered was Alexandra, and I still had no idea where she was.  If I could have gone back and changed it all, I would have, without a doubt.  I would have found a way to still take her as my wife without destroying both kingdoms in the process.

The moon was high in the sky, and torches lined the center of the arena where four strong horses stood in a row.  I walked steadily into the center where Parnell stood with Whitney’s arms held behind her back.  She struggled against him with anger in her eyes and jeers on her lips.

“You will release me, you foul creature!” she yelled at him.  “How dare you!  You are nothing more than a…a breeder of beasts!”

She twisted again, and Sir Rylan raised an eyebrow.

“Shall I silence her?” he asked.  He held a piece of cloth in his hands.

“No,” I said.  I shook my head as I walked straight up to her.  “I want answers.”

“You’ll get nothing from me!” Whitney snorted at me and stomped her foot.

I leaned over and grabbed the hair at the back of her neck.  I pulled sharply back, tilting her head and snarling down at her.   She cried out and tried to kick me.

“Then I will listen to your screams!”

“You would not dare do anything against a royal!”

I chuckled softly right before I spat in her face.

“Do you see your father?  Your brothers?”  I asked her.  For the first time, she had no response.  “That’s because their heads are being placed on spikes at this very moment.  Did you not watch your own mother fall?  Do you think you will be spared?  Your sister is likely dead by now, as well, though her fate was far more merciful than yours will be.”

“You would not,” she said, though her voice did not sound so sure.  “You would never do such a thing to me…you love me.”

“Love you?” I could not keep the shock from my voice, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

“You just do not know it yet!” she said.  “We were matched as children, and our parents knew we were to be together.  Even when your father refused to betroth us, he still knew it would happen someday.  We are meant to be, Branford!”

“I am going to kill you, you stupid, insane woman.”

“You would never!” she said with contemptuous certainty.

I stared at her a moment longer.  How do you reason with someone so obviously out of her mind?  Would she still respond, at least, to her own will to live through this?  One thing I knew for sure—honesty was not going to benefit me now.

“There is one way I might consider sparing you,” I said, the lie flowing easily from my lips, “one way only.  Tell me now—where is my wife?”

Whitney laughed.

“The commoner queen?” She sneered.  “Who would even care, save for the child inside of her?”

She tried to step forward and out of Parnell’s grip, but he held her fast.  He turned his head to the side, and his eyes stared off into the distance as he pretended he would not have done the same had it been Ida taken.  There was no way she was going to be reasoned with, and I was determined to have my answer now.

As Parnell held her back, I closed the gap between us and reached out to her with one hand.  I traced the side of her face and along her jaw, and I felt her body relax slightly.  Once I reached her slender neck, I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed.

She gasped once before her air was cut off, and I growled into her face.

“You have one final chance to speak.  Once I release you, you had better open your mouth and tell me where to find my wife, or you will die most painfully.  I am not interested in your delusions or your games.  I only want my wife and child with me again.”

I let go of her throat, and she would have fallen if Parnell had not held her up.  She coughed and wheezed for a moment before I grew tired of waiting, and smacked her on the side of her head.

Her gaze turned to me, and she glared.

“Never!” She snarled and struggled.

“We’ll see,” I replied, my voice now calm and collected.  I summoned four of the soldiers to my side.  “Help me to prepare her.”

I grabbed the ropes they brought to me and made quick work of Whitney’s arms while Parnell—his eyes still staring blankly as he tried to prepare himself for what he knew would come—held her legs so ropes could be tied to her ankles.  Once each of her limbs was secured tightly, the ends of the ropes were given to four different soldiers, who one-by-one walked solemnly to his horse.  Each horse faced a different direction, and as the soldiers tied the ropes to the saddles, I grabbed Whitney by her middle and held her parallel to the ground with her face staring into the sky.

She struggled, kicked, and screamed at me, but I ignored her.  I held her flat with my palms underneath her back until the soldiers had walked the horses far enough away for me to release my grip without her body falling to the ground.

“There you go—stop now,” I called out, and the soldiers steadied each of the horses.  “Hold them still.”

I stepped up to one side of Whitney and looked down at her.  She was completely suspended in the air now, with each of her splayed limbs holding up the rest of her body.  At the end of the line, each horse stood with the rope secured to the saddle and a soldier standing with sword drawn.   At my signal, they would know exactly what to do.

“Do you realize,” I asked as I leaned over her, “exactly what will happen to you if I command the horses to run?”

Whitney’s eyes widened for a moment.

“They…they could not,” she said.  Her voice was already strained.  “Branford…they cannot do that with me tied to them!”

“Yes,” I said to her, “they can.  They are far, far stronger than your weak and useless limbs.  You will be torn into pieces.”

“You cannot do that,” she whispered.  For the first time, I saw tears form in the corners of her eyes.  “You cannot possibly do that, Branford.  I’m a royal…you…you love me…”

“There is nothing royal about you,” I said.  “The only fond memory I have of you is spilling my seed on your leg, and taking your purity was transient and meaningless to me.  Now tell me where you have hidden my wife.”

Whitney narrowed her eyes again, and she lashed out at me with her shrill voice.

“You wife!”  She snorted in disgust.  “She is no more your wife than I am a commoner!  I am your wife!  You just never wanted to admit it!  I became your wife that summer when you first took me!  She is nothing—nothing!  I am your everything!  I will carry all of your children, Branford!  You know that is how it is supposed to be!”

“You are delusional,” I said with a gruff laugh.

“You would call me delusional?  You are the one who is obviously mad!  Who else besides a lunatic ignores his duty and marries common trash?”

I flinched as I felt my throat tighten.  I gripped my hands into fists as I moved in closer to her.

“You will never speak of Alexandra in such a way again,” I said with absolute certainty.  “And I assure you I am quite, quite mad.  Tell me where she is.”

“You will not dare harm me,” she whispered, though I could see in her eyes she no longer believed her own words.  “We are meant to be together…”

I tilted my head to one side and then ran my hand through my hair.  I sighed heavily and rubbed the fingers of my free hand into my eye sockets before I took out my sword, lay it across Whitney’s belly, and slowly cut into first her dress and then her skin.  She gasped, tilted her head back and let out a long, anguished wail as she writhed in pain.  I sheathed my sword and pried open the cut with my fingers.

“Where is she?” I screamed one final time.  The horses started slightly, and Whitney cried out as the ropes were pulled tight, stretching her limbs.  She looked up at me in disbelief, anger, and pain.

“She is in Sterling Castle!” Whitney finally cried out through her tears.  “She is surrounded by guards, and I hope they have ruined her for you!”

I took a handful of steps close to her and leaned over her face.

“Swear on your life?” I asked.

“Yes!” She growled back up at me.  There was no lie in her eyes.

“Good,” I murmured.  I rose and called out to the four men who stood at the flanks of the horses with swords in hand.  “Now!”

Each man held his sword high before bringing the flat edge down on the horse’s rump.  The horses whinnied, stamped, and ran.  The ropes tightened, pulled to the very end of each of Whitney’s limbs, and then tore them from her body.

Her screams did not stop for some time as she lay there on the ground, armless and legless.  The blood flowed from the holes in her body and into the dry grass of the field.  I approached her, and her glassy eyes gazed at me.  Blood trickled from the edge of her lips.

“Alexandra is far more than you could have ever been,” I told her though I could not swear her dying torso could comprehend my words.  “She is the true royal.  You are nothing.  You were always nothing to me.”

I turned away and motioned to Erik to bring Romero to me.  I quickly stepped up and threw one leg over the saddle before I looked back out to the other men with me in the field.  I took a long breath to try to steady myself before I called out to them.

“Parnell!  Rylan!  We must ride to Sterling!  With haste!”

The horses’ hooves pounded against the road, but still we could hear the sound of rock smashing against rock—evidence of Wynton’s devices at work—as we rode away.  I turned to look over my shoulder just in time to see one of the large towers crumble into rubble.  By this time tomorrow, Hadebrand Castle would be nothing but dust.

*****

As we rode from Hadebrand to Sterling, I could not help but think of the first ride I took with Alexandra.  She had clung to me with such insecurity, I could not help but feel the desire to protect her.  I had held her close to my chest, silently wishing I had not so much metal between my body and hers.  For most of the ride, I thought of taking her body on our wedding night.

And then I had not done so.

I wanted to.  It had been my right.  I surprised even myself when I did not just slow down and take her anyway, but the look in her eyes made me stop.  She had been terrified of me.  I knew immediately that I did not want a wife who feared me.  I did not want this young, precious girl to dread my presence in our rooms, but rather I wanted her to desire me as I desired her.

Over the next few days, I had thought I was going to lose all semblance of sanity in my unrequited lust.  By the time we had actually consummated our marriage, it ended up being one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and each moment with her since then had only increased those thoughts.

I knew I had made the gravest mistakes during our time together, many of which were not even known to my wife.  Making war without a full understanding of my enemy’s capabilities had been foolish at best, and that had set the stage for the rest of my downfall.  For the first time, I had let my guard down and allowed someone I did not know close to my family—and Alexandra had paid dearly for it.  I did not keep Alexandra close to me the one time she needed me to do so.  My downfall had been the downfall of my wife as well as all of Silverhelm.  Though I thought at the time I was doing what was best for my family and my kingdom, I knew now how wrong I had been.

I wanted to do better—both by Alexandra and my people—but I had no one left to guide me.  Camden had tried to make me understand so many times, and I had refused to listen to his advice.  He had coddled me, I knew this now, and when I desperately needed him, he was no longer there.

My introspections were cut short as the broken walls of Sterling Castle came into view.

There were forces guarding the front entrance though only very few.  Most of the men there appeared to be carpenters and masons though what they were doing there I still didn’t know.  The east tower was completely gone, and nothing but the rubble from the structure itself, furniture, and similar items seemed to be left.  We easily disposed of the men and entered the castle through the hole where the tower used to be, immediately beginning our search.  The upper rooms were cold and empty, and I tried not to stare too long at the bed where Alexandra and I had spent our first night after our wedding.  I knew this castle like the back of my hand, and soon all the main rooms had been searched, save one.

Parnell joined me as we approached the great hall that had served as a meeting place for my father and his small court when he was Lord of Sterling.  Parnell dispatched two men to guard the outer doorway, and we both entered the large room.

“Alexandra!” I screamed out.

There was a small part deep inside of me that knew I was near my breaking point.  It was the part of me that never actually left the hiding place below the bench seat where I was entombed while my mother was brutalized.  That part of me was trying to pull the rest of me back down into the darkness again—close the lid and seal me up tight so nothing could touch me.  Nothing.  No one.  If I did not find her, that was where I would go—deep inside of myself—and I would likely never return.

I had never spoken to Alexandra or to anyone else about it, but that was exactly what I had done for a time as a child.  After being taken to Sawyer and finding out how my parents had died, I had shut myself off from everyone and everything.  I did not eat, or speak, or hear those around me.  I did not even see anyone else as they tried to engage me in conversation or activity.  I existed completely inside myself.  Only Ida and her cries for me managed to bring me back.

Ida no longer needed her older brother, and if Alexandra was…

I did not dare think of it.

The great hall in Sterling Castle was modest and had never held actual thrones when the Sterling family occupied it.  My father was a lord and a duke, not a king.  Now, though, there was a throne sitting on its own in the center at the end of the hall.  The same carved benches I recalled from my youth sat along the sides of the walls, but little else adorned the room.

Between two of the benches was a small door with a heavy bar across it.  I knew exactly where it led though I could scarcely believe Whitney would have gone so far as to put my wife in the actual dungeon.

Of course she would have.

The skin of my arm rose in gooseflesh at the thought though I was still covered by heavy leather and chainmail.  I quickly reached for the handle of the door as Parnell yelled at the other guards to secure the rest of the area.  Beyond the door was a dark, narrow staircase on which I had trod only a handful of times in my life.  Royalty did not venture down here if it could be avoided.  I had to pull a torch from the wall at the bottom of the stairs to see my way down the dank corridor.  With the torchlight flickering, casting eerie shadows, we turned the corner and approached the many barred doors of the Sterling Castle dungeon.

And that is when I heard Alexandra scream.