Chapter Three
Keltor half-listened to one of his councilors as the male recited the daily briefing. While he never enjoyed the dry reports about taxes collected, new diplomatic treaties signed, or the state of agriculture on the planet, Keltor’s mind hadn’t wandered during a session since his mid-twenties, when his father had asked for him to take over the meetings and pass on only what was relevant to the king.
And yet, all he could think about was the feel of Azalyn’s soft hair under his fingertips and her green eyes as he’d placed the wet cloth to her mouth. The pain and exhaustion he’d seen in her gaze had flared something inside him. All he’d wanted to do was hand off all his duties and take care of the brave female who’d endured the Tallarians beating her in order to protect her son’s life.
Or, rather, their son’s life.
To think his father had dismissed Azalyn as an unworthy commoner when Keltor had recently confronted him about sending her away decades ago. But she was braver than most of the people inside his father’s inner circle, he was certain.
Even if only for a short while, he longed to see Azalyn awake and out to challenge any who’d face her.
One of the senior councilors, Hinvel Mayta, cleared his throat. “Your highness?”
Keltor met his former tutor’s face. Thirty years ago, Hinvel would’ve scolded Keltor for his behavior.
Instead, Hinvel danced around him carefully, as did all the councilors. They never truly spoke their minds unless Keltor specifically requested it. They saw it as a sign of respect. Keltor saw it as one of the many layers of isolation in his life.
He never understood why people dreamed of becoming a prince or even a king. Royal life was secluded, full of duty, and usually devoid of laughter. His mother had been an exception to the final point, but she’d died younger than she should have.
Only Azalyn had brought it back for a short while.
Not wanting to think about the happy times of his childhood and adolescence, Keltor noted the time and said, “Send me the reports and I’ll reach out if I have any questions. Unless anything requires my immediate attention?”
“No, your highness,” Hinvel murmured.
“Good. Then you must excuse me, Councilors. I just remembered there is a matter I must attend to straight away.”
The instant he stood, everyone in the room bowed their heads. Not one of them voiced a complaint.
Keltor never thought he’d ever miss his sister Kalahn’s outspoken and reckless nature. But with both his siblings currently living as part of the new colony on Jasvar, Keltor had only his father to call family inside the palace. And since his father was gravely ill, not to mention he and Keltor had never been close, there was only one person on Keldera he could seek out and talk with freely.
And Keltor needed to talk about Azalyn so that he could move on. Only then would he regain his wits and be able to focus on his upcoming coronation. Or, rather, he needed Azalyn out of his thoughts so that he could focus on finding a suitable bride. Because if he didn’t, his father would never sign the abdication papers and make him king.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Keltor had never wanted to be king, but now he was doing everything he could to ensure it happened.
He moved to the door. Upon exiting the advisory room, Keltor’s guards took their usual positions in front and behind him. Keltor stated, “East Garden,” signaling they were to depart.
While the East Garden would always be special to Keltor since it had been his mother’s favorite place, it served another purpose. The isolated area allowed him to meet with the only male he called a friend—Veljan Ranna.
And Veljan always tended to the East Garden at this time of day.
After five minutes of going down one corridor and then another, Keltor finally stepped into the bright, open space of the East Garden. Thanks to the clear, glass-like ceiling overhead that allowed the Kelderan sunshine to stream through, the space was warm and inviting.
Keltor stopped. He motioned toward a side door as he ordered, “Wait for me in there.”
Since the material overhead was nearly indestructible and the entire garden was well-defended and reinforced, the guards left via the only other exit to the space. They would continue to monitor the area, but wouldn’t listen in to whatever conversation Keltor had with his friend.
Walking around the perimeter, he admired the flowers in bloom as well as the bushes trimmed into the shapes of animals. As a boy, he’d spent many hours with his mother in the garden. She’d taught him as much as a mother could teach a little boy about horticulture.
Then she’d died during the Brevkan wars, and it’d taken Keltor many years to set foot inside the East Garden again. Azalyn had been the one to convince him to visit the garden once more, to honor his mother’s memory.
He’d been back at least once a week ever since.
The main door opened, signaling that his friend Veljan was as punctual as always.
Turning around, Keltor walked up to the lavender-skinned male about his own age with magenta eyes and silver hair. “Are any apprentice gardeners with you today?”
Veljan shook his head. “No. They’re either spending the day training in a classroom or assisting one of their mentors.”
“Computer,” Keltor began, “engage level ten security lock on the East Garden.”
The computer replied in a flat voice, “Prince Keltor’s voice pattern confirmed and protocols implemented. The East Garden is now secure.”
Veljan raised an eyebrow. “It’s one of those days, then. What’s wrong now?”
Most Kelderans would gasp at Veljan’s casual nature, but he and Keltor had first met as boys over thirty years ago, when Veljan had merely been following his father, the royal head gardener, around on his duties. Over time, Veljan had not only replaced his father as royal head gardener but had also become Keltor’s only friend and confidant. While he would never be as open with anyone as he’d been with Azalyn two decades ago, Keltor was closer to Veljan than to his own brother, Kason. “Don’t act ignorant. You know what’s going on.”
Veljan motioned toward the center of the garden, where there was a complex maze constructed of hedges. “Given how long it took you to get over Azalyn the first time, I wasn’t sure if bringing her up would be a good idea.”
The pair of them walked toward the maze. “I have every advisor and staff member tiptoeing around Azalyn’s presence and all but pretending she doesn’t exist. Don’t do the same, Veljan.”
“Is that an order or a request?” Keltor glared and Veljan chuckled. “I couldn’t resist. Maybe one day I’ll tire of teasing your princely self, but today is not that day.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, Keltor asked, “What the hell am I supposed to do, Veljan? She’s lying in a hospital bed because of me. And now her dream of living on Jasvar won’t ever happen, either. She will forever be a target. I trust my brother to watch over her on Jasvar, but the trip to the other planet would be too dangerous. She must remain on Keldera. Inside the palace grounds is the safest place for her.”
“The palace is a big place.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That isn’t the point.”
Veljan shrugged. “I’m not sure you’re ready for my complete honesty on the subject.”
“We’re the same age, so stop acting like you are so much older and wiser than me.”
“Ah, but I am wiser when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Warning bells rang inside his head, but Keltor pushed past them. “As long as you don’t insult the female, just tell me what you’re holding back.”
Veljan tilted his head. “All right, then. Here’s my question—Do you still love her?”
Keltor replied quickly, “No.”
“Your hurried, monosyllabic response is telling.”
“Veljan,” he growled.
“Well, the real question is whether that’s your diplomatic answer, knowing what might happen to Keldera if you took a merchant’s daughter as a bride—supposing she wanted you—or is it the truth?”
Stopping in his tracks, Keltor stared at the top of the fountain poking up from the center of the maze. “Honestly? I long ago gave up loving her. Until recently, I had thought she’d run away from me with another male. And even when my brother told me the truth that he had chased her away, working under our father’s orders, there was no rush of tender feelings. There was only guilt and regret, which hasn’t dissipated.”
That was a half-truth. Not even Keltor was brave enough to admit the rush of heat he’d felt at touching Azalyn’s skin. But attraction didn’t equate affection. Nor did it erase every potential problem that would arise should he even think about pursuing her.
Because if given the chance, he would like to kiss her again to simply feel something resembling emotion. But that would never be an option.
Veljan placed a hand on Keltor’s shoulder. “And that, my friend, is your answer.”
“How is that any kind of answer?” He put up a hand. “No, don’t elaborate. It’s moot anyway. You know I have to find a worthy bride with a family that can help stave off a civil war, through either connections or resources.”
“She was adopted by the Sulanis.”
The Sulanis were tied for the richest merchant family on Keldera. “Putting aside the fact Azalyn probably hates me for what happened in the past, the head of the Sulanis has his eyes set on the colony on Jasvar. The new enterprise will stretch their resources.”
“Perhaps. But it sounds like an excuse to not even try.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but in the best interest of Keldera, I must find a bride with a family already offering to support me. That will help ease the transition of power and hopefully allay fears of instability. I may have one heir, but additional ones would better secure the succession.”
“You can secure the secession and still allow yourself to love, Keltor. Being royal does not mean one has to live a life where duty extends to marriage and the bedchamber.”
An image of Azalyn’s naked body below him, as she blushed and revealed herself for the first time, flashed into his mind. He quickly shut a door on the memory. “Keldera was a different place when my father married my mother. No looming wars, there was peace, and the planet overwhelmingly supported the monarchy. He could afford to take a bride he loved.”
“If you say so. But regardless of whom you marry, you need to resolve your guilt concerning Azalyn. Only then do I think you’ll be able to find a bride with open eyes.”
“Are you sure you’re a gardener and not a soothsayer?” he asked dryly.
Veljan grinned. “That would make me the soon-to-be king’s soothsayer. The ‘royal soothsayer’ has a nice ring to it.” Keltor shook his head, but Veljan continued before he could speak. “Just don’t push her away, or your son, and see what happens with them. You’ve sacrificed much of your life to being the heir to the throne. Don’t be afraid to do something for yourself, even if it only results in friendship.”
He gave a derisive laugh. “My son dislikes me, and my former lover was fleeing the planet to put distance between us. I’m not sure they want anything to do with me.”
“Then show them the male only your sister and I have had the chance to see. It may not work out, I accept that. But don’t let the opportunity for others to grow close to you slip through your fingers.”
“You are far more optimistic about life than me. I’ll do my duty, take care of her, set her up, and then only visit Azalyn when necessary. After that, I’ll meet as many of the females on the list crafted by my councilors as I can and select one.”
Veljan shrugged. “As long as I still have my job and a safe place to train my fledglings, then do whatever you wish. But just know that if you select a female who does nothing but bat her eyes at you and lacks a brain, you lose the right to complain to me.”
Keltor eyed his friend. “It’s hard to believe you would give up so easily considering you spent years lecturing me on true love and finding the female who could change my world forever.”
“It’s your life, Keltor. Do as you wish.”
He sensed Veljan was holding back his true thoughts. However, he had another meeting and couldn’t afford to linger in the garden any longer. “I must go. I’m afraid our weekly recreation room challenge session will have to wait until everything is cleared up with Azalyn and Kelzal.”
Veljan waved a hand in dismissal. “No problem. I have a new flower hybrid idea I want to work on, and I always do my best work when I seclude myself in a lab for a week.”
“If flowers could transform into females, you’d probably take one as a bride.”
“If only that were a possibility. But, sadly, magic is but a myth. My plants are my family.”
While Veljan’s tone was lighthearted, Keltor knew it was an act. The female he’d secretly loved for years had joined the colony on Jasvar. “Then tend to them. I’ll send a message when I’m free again.” Keltor raised his voice. “Computer, end security protocols and unlock the door.”
“Action complete.”
“Until later, Royal Head Gardener,” Keltor stated.
After freeing his face from any emotion, he exited the garden and headed toward one of the meeting rooms. The sooner he finished his duties, the sooner he could check on Azalyn again. Because once she woke up fully and could talk, her disdain would make it easier for him to do his duty and forget about the wild, untamed female he’d once loved.
~~~
Azalyn opened her eyes and blinked against the lights. She didn’t know when she’d dozed off, but at least she’d woken up again. On top of that, the pain hadn’t worsened, either, which she hoped was a good sign.
Glancing to the side, she saw Kelzal’s head bowed over something in his hands. For a second, she contented herself with watching his deft fingers play with the electrical components. It wasn’t hard to imagine him taking apart everything he could find as a boy and attempting to put it back together.
Not wanting to think about all the years her son had lived without her, Azalyn pasted a smile on her face and said, “Hello, Kelzal.”
At her voice, Kelzal’s green eyes shot to hers. “Are you in pain? Do I need to call the doctor?”
She barely resisted the urge to reach out and take her son’s hand. But considering he’d barely begun to talk to her before all hell had broken loose on the Tallarian ship, she wouldn’t risk spooking him. “I’m fine, Kelzal. What are you working on?”
Placing the components on a side table, he replied, “It’s not important. Taking apart and reassembling things helps to clear my mind.”
Silence stretched. Azalyn usually had no issue keeping a conversation going, but she was afraid of pushing Kelzal away. The thought of never seeing him again now that she’d found him made her stomach twist.
Kelzal’s voice finally echoed in the small room. “He’s going to acknowledge me in a few weeks.”
“Keltor?”
He nodded. “And he won’t listen to me. I don’t want to be a prince. It’s hard enough for me to talk with people. Being diplomatic is impossible. I like to speak the truth.”
She sighed. “I wish I could change your new path, but I can’t, Kelzal. Word has already spread of your existence. You’ll forever be a target of our enemies and the palace is the safest place for you.”
He stood and turned his back to her. Holding her breath, she waited to see if he’d leave.
As soon as he spoke, she started breathing again. “Is that why you gave me up? To protect me from the life of a royal?”
Azalyn valued honesty above all else. She wouldn’t give anything else to her son. “Yes and no. I didn’t even know I was pregnant when Keltor’s brother and father chased me away. When I discovered that I was with child, all I could think about was sparing you the heartbreak I’d endured. Raising you myself would’ve brought on too many questions. The best life for you was with a family who wanted a child of their own, a family with no connections to the royal family.”
“And so you gave me to the Burrig family.”
“Yes. By all accounts, they loved you, Kelzal. And they raised you in a way I never could have.”
A few beats paused before Kelzal asked, “Did you ever intend to contact me?”
Emotion choked her throat, but she pushed passed it. “No. Not because I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to risk the life you’d built for yourself.”
“And yet in the end, none of it mattered.”
At his emotionless reply, tears prickled her eyes. She might be losing him. “Kelzal, look at me.”
He turned to face her but kept his gaze averted. He seemed to do that whenever strong emotions were involved.
Keeping her voice gentle but firm, she said, “I did what I thought was best. By the time I realized how much I wanted to raise you myself, it was too late. You’re my only child, Kelzal. And if the doctor’s prognosis is correct, you will always remain so.”
His gaze flickered to hers. “What are you talking about?”
“The doctor thinks the damage to my womb is too great and that I’ll probably never have another child. Since I gave you up for adoption and by all rights never had children, it means I can be sent away to live with The Barren now.”
Kelzal frowned. “In most cases, when it happens later in life because of illness or injury, females are usually granted waivers.”
“In most cases, yes. However, if the prince wishes to banish me from his life, he could refuse one. So while I know all of this is painful and you have every right to be angry with me, all I ask for is a chance. Because I may not remain at the palace for long and I want to make the most of what time we do have.”
Picking up a small piece from the dissembled device on the side table, Kelzal answered, “I don’t think he’ll send you away. He came to visit several times while I was sitting with you, before you regained consciousness. Even though I’m not the best at gauging emotions, I know the look of hunger. All people have it for something. And he had it for you.”
Shaking her head, she answered, “I doubt it. If anything, I’ll be an obstacle to him finding a bride. The rumors say he’s to pick one by the time of his coronation.”
“Then perhaps I was wrong. But if he tries to send you away, I’ll intervene. He needs me more than I need him, after all. I will only stay here if you can, too.”
Azalyn tried to think of how to respond to Kelzal’s statement when the door slid open and Keltor walked into the room.
~~~
Keltor had expected to find Azalyn asleep. Instead, not only was she awake with concern in her eyes, Kelzal stood not far from her side.
His first instinct was to demand an explanation about what the boy had said to upset Azalyn. After all, she was recovering, and no matter how strong of a curiosity burned inside Kelzal, he should allow Azalyn to heal first before bombarding her with questions or tugging on her guilt for giving up the boy.
Then he noticed Kelzal’s fingers tapping against his thigh and the male’s averted gaze. Add in the boy’s tense shoulders, and he was upset about something. The question was why. He dreaded to think it was because of him.
Kelzal turned toward him, and the male’s gaze turned fierce. “You should leave.”
Since he knew how the conversation would go based on earlier, Keltor focused on Azalyn. “What’s going on?”
“I think—”
Kelzal cut her off. “If you stay, you might send her away. So, leave. I’ll look after her. Since I’m inside the palace, you shouldn’t have an objection.”
“You’re not making any sense, Kelzal,” Keltor said slowly. “Without the facts, I can’t respond properly.”
Azalyn jumped in. “Kelzal, I need to talk to Keltor alone. Can you come back in a little while? For dinner?”
Kelzal grunted. “I’ve already been ordered to have dinner with him.”
“We’ll eat together, here. I think that’s a reasonable compromise,” Keltor replied.
After a few more seconds of the boy glaring, looking away, and glaring again, Kelzal exited the room. Without thinking, Keltor muttered, “He has your temperament.”
“Some of yours as well, if you look close enough.”
Taking a deep breath, Keltor met Azalyn’s green eyes. Whatever emotion he’d seen before had vanished. “Why does he think I’m going to send you away, Azalyn?” When she didn’t answer, he moved to her bedside. Even though she didn’t back down from his gaze, the heart rate monitor on the other side told him his presence had an effect. He only hoped it wasn’t out of fear. “We once pledged honesty to each other, Aza. If nothing else, can we do that again?”
For a second, Azalyn said nothing. While it could only be a few moments of silence, his eyes drifted to the curve of her neck. While he noticed a small scar that hadn’t been there when they were younger, as well as a few more lines in her skin, it was as graceful as always.
He wondered if it was as warm and soft as he remembered. Just as he raised a finger, Azalyn turned her head and broke the spell. “Honesty it is. The doctor thinks I might be infertile now, which means you could send me to the Barren if you wish.”
He was going to have to visit the doctor and find out more later. “Why do you think I’ll send you away?”
“Because we both know that while Kelzal’s existence at least secures the succession, only you taking a worthy bride will help tame fears about instability. A male with a family to protect will do whatever’s necessary to keep the peace. And no bride is going to want a reminder of your past, and the mother of the heir, living in close quarters.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You seem to think you know how I’ll act.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years from the snippets of news and announcements I’ve read about you, it’s that duty is the epitome of your existence. If you weren’t about to risk taking a mere shopkeeper’s daughter as your bride twenty-odd years ago, then it sure as hell isn’t going to happen now when the stakes are even higher.”
The right thing to do would be to say Azalyn was correct; duty mattered most to him.
However, as her cheeks and neck flushed with anger, nothing mattered but reaching out a finger and gently running it along her jaw. She had such liveliness, and that was sorely lacking in his life.
She sucked in a breath at his ministrations, and he smiled. “I see that tracing your skin still works as the best distraction.” He moved his finger to her neck and traced the shape of one of her markings. “May I talk now?”
Gulping, her voice was still angry when she whispered, “Talk but don’t touch. You long ago lost that privilege.”
It took every ounce of strength he possessed to remove his hand. Skin-to-skin contact was something he yearned for but rarely had. Unlike most males in his position, Keltor didn’t believe in dalliances. At first, he’d told himself it was to prevent scandal. But now, he was starting to think it was because he yearned to touch Azalyn’s skin and no one else’s.
He nearly frowned at that thought. Azalyn may have been one of his potential destined brides, but after more than twenty years, the pull should’ve faded.
When Azalyn raised her brows, Keltor focused on the present. Thinking about the past could wait. “You’ve probably heard the rumors that I’m to take a bride by the time of my coronation. But what you don’t know is that I will be making the final choice and no one else.”
“If you’re about to say that you’re going to risk everything and take me as yours, then just stop. I’ve been swayed by your words before, and I’m not falling for it again.”
“I didn’t say I had selected you.” She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. “But know that you being safe and involved in Kelzal’s life is one of my top priorities. And since words matter so little, I’ll have an official, signed document delivered to you later today. There’s little I can promise you to make up for what happened in the past, but a safe life with our son is one of them.”
“While I appreciate that, Kelzal and I would better enjoy some freedom. I understand the possible danger to both of us, but having our own section of the palace, where not even you have access, would go a long way toward showing me that you’re serious. It would also give me a chance to help Kelzal adjust. He’s not good with change and needs a new routine established as soon as possible.”
“For someone who had only known Kelzal for a short time, you seem to know quite a bit.”
She squared her shoulders. “I kept an eye on him from afar. He may not have been mine to claim as blood, but I wanted to ensure his safety.”
Before he could stop the words, he murmured, “And yet you were willing to leave him in order to put as much distance as you could from me.”
She sighed. “What would you have me do, Keltor? Watching you take another as a bride was something I didn’t want to witness. Not because I’m still pining for you. No, I’m not a fool. But to see you have what we could’ve had constantly taunting me on view screens and ad billboards was something I didn’t want to endure. Jasvar was my fresh start. It’s gone now, but as long as I have Kelzal, then what you do with your life matters little to me.”
Spouting about duty was all well and good when Keltor was talking with Veljan. However, with Azalyn in the room, everything else seemed to vanish.
Before he could convince himself of why not to do it, Keltor leaned close until their faces were a few inches apart. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Your eye twitches when you lie, and it’s doing it now.”
To her credit, Azalyn didn’t raise a hand to still the small tic. “I’m not the lovesick seventeen-year-old girl who was swayed by your intelligence and good looks. I’ve changed, as have you. Don’t pretend to know me and my idiosyncrasies. Because we’re strangers, Keltor. Just as it should be.”
He most definitely didn’t like her referring to him as a stranger. “I still say you’re lying.”
She tilted her head. “Oh? Then prove it, your highness.”
There were a million reasons why Keltor should walk away and wash his hands of Azalyn. He’d hurt her, and he had no idea if he could ever make up for that pain. In addition, she wasn’t born and bred royalty or even a politician’s daughter. She’d always speak her mind and push boundaries. The public, not to mention the councilors, wouldn’t accept her.
And yet as her hot breath danced across his lips, all he could think about was tasting her wildness. With Azalyn, there wouldn’t be any platitudes or false words to mollify a prince. No, she’d let him know what she was feeling and speak her mind, no matter if it’d upset him or not.
A long-buried desire bubbled to the surface. Veljan was the only person to speak freely with him, and Keltor craved more of the directness, so much more.
So for the first time in years, Keltor forgot about being a prince and taking care of the planet. He cupped Azalyn’s face and did what he wanted—he kissed her.