The Runaway King

It was impossible to look directly at her as I mumbled, “Imogen, do you love me?”



My heart pounded while I awaited her response. With every endless second that passed, I felt increasingly certain that I never should have attempted such a question. I understood the concept of love but had long doubted anyone’s ability to feel that way for me. All I dared hope to ask of Imogen was friendship, and now it seemed even that was failing.



After a long, horrible silence, she shook her head and whispered, “I don’t belong in your world, Jaron. You have the princess. Win her heart. Be hers.”



I searched Imogen’s face for any sign that she might be hiding her true emotions. After all, I had concealed the truth of my feelings behind the terrible things I’d said to her the night I sent her from the castle. A jumble of emotions collided within me, and I wondered if this was the way I had made Imogen feel that night, as though her entire world was splitting apart. She was masking her pain; I knew her well enough to see that. But for reasons I still couldn’t understand, I was the cause of it.



Yet in the end, the reasons didn’t matter. She was right. Whatever either of us felt, she could never belong to me. My future had but one path, and that was with the betrothed princess.



I nodded silently back at her, and with that, she stood and made herself busy in the room. “You should be ready to leave shortly. Harlowe’s having a bed made up for you in a wagon.”



As if I cared about that. “No more beds,” I grunted. “I’ll go in a carriage.”



“All right. If you’re up to it.”



She wouldn’t even face me now, which was awful. But I suspected it would be far worse to look in her eyes and see nothing but indifference in them.



I tried one last time, hoping to make her understand me. “Wherever our lives lead us, one thing is certain. You and I will always be connected. You might be able to deny that, but I can’t. Even I am not that good a liar.”



Imogen nodded, then turned to me only long enough to lower herself into a deep, respectful curtsy. “Please excuse me . . . Your Highness. We are not likely to ever see each other again. Be happy in your life.” And she left.



Mott and Roden drove the carriage back to Farthenwood. Harlowe rode beside me and Fink sat across from him. It still hurt to sit up but not too much. My leg was propped up on the seat across from me and padded with what I guessed was possibly every spare blanket in all of Libeth. An earthquake could shake Carthya to its core but even then, it’d barely jar my leg.



For the most part we traveled in silence. I liked that about Harlowe. He made no attempts at meaningless chatter or wit and was often content just to listen and watch the world around him. In contrast, Fink appeared to be fighting the urge to speak, just to release the energy trapped inside him. But someone must have threatened him, because whenever he looked at me and opened his mouth, he closed it again and returned to looking out the window.



It was dark when we arrived at Farthenwood. Fink had slept for most of the ride and remained asleep even after the carriage stopped. The royal carriage was already there.



Tobias came out to greet us almost immediately. He drew in a sharp breath when I emerged with a battle-bruised face and my leg in a splint, but he made a valiant attempt at a convincing smile. And he eyed Roden suspiciously, but I supposed Roden would have to deal with that for a while. Besides, Tobias would get over it once everything was explained to him.



“You’re going to be a teacher after all,” I said to Tobias as we passed by. “Your first student is asleep in the carriage. I wish you the best of luck.”



Tobias furrowed his brow and glanced doubtfully at the carriage.



“If that wasn’t enough trouble, I have another request,” I said. “I still need one more regent. Please accept, Tobias.”



His eyes widened. “Are you offering that to me? Really?”



“Thank me now. Because you won’t spend much time with those fools before you’ll regret accepting.”



“Then I will thank you, Your Majesty.” Tobias kissed the king’s ring, then handed it to me and said, “I brought a change of clothes so that I can just be myself again. There’s another set for you too, though I’m not sure how you’ll fit the pants over your leg.”



“I’ll figure something out. What about the princess? Is she here?”



Tobias nodded. “She said that if you want to talk, she’ll meet wherever you ask.” I started forward and he added, “I spent a lot of time with her this week. She is sincere about caring for you.”



“If someone can find something to eat, I’m really hungry,” I said, bypassing his evaluation of her. “It’ll take a while to change clothes, but will you ask her to join me when I’m finished?”



It was nearly an hour later before I was dressed and ready for her to enter the small dining room. I wouldn’t allow Tobias to escort her in until my leg was already propped under the table. Yet she must have known about my condition because the first thing she looked at was the chair across from me. And she sat in the chair Tobias pulled out for her before I would have had time to stand and greet her properly, if I could have done that, of course.



Her clothing tonight was simple, a blue cotton bodice and blue-striped skirt over a white chemise. Her warm brown hair fell like a waterfall down her back and was tied with a white ribbon. Whatever she was to me, I couldn’t deny her beauty. She’d turn heads even wearing sackcloth.



Amarinda began the conversation. “What have you done to your hair?”



It struck me as odd that even though I was covered in cuts and bruises, not to mention an obvious injury to my leg, my hair was the one thing she chose to comment on. Then I realized that was probably her intention, to make it clear she was seeing me without calling attention to how bad I looked. So I grinned. “I wanted to give the castle hairdresser a challenge.”



“It’s thoughtful of you to always find ways to entertain your servants.”



“That’s just the kind of good person he is,” Tobias said.



Amarinda smiled at him. “You’d be proud of Tobias. He did an admirable job in your absence. On the day the regents were supposed to vote on the stewardship, he sent them a ten-page paper explaining in great detail how, with only eighteen regents, their vote had no binding authority. He was brilliant!”



“Thank you, my lady,” Tobias said.



“So the vote will be delayed?” I asked.



She shook her head. “There will be no vote. You alone are the ruler of Carthya.”



I closed my eyes as feelings of relief coursed through me. Then, glancing at Tobias, I asked, “How can I repay you?”



“Just promise never to do that to me again. No offense, Jaron, but I don’t want your life. Even locked away behind closed doors I got a taste for how awful it can be.”



“Did anyone try to kill you while I was gone?”



“No.”



“Then you didn’t even get a taste. Will you leave us now?”



After Tobias bowed and left, I turned to Amarinda. “You sent Imogen to the pirates.”



A lock of the princess’s hair fell forward as she slowly nodded. “We talked for a very long time before she left the castle. I told her what you had said to me about the attack. Imogen was sure you would go to the pirates. She offered to go there too, certain that if anyone could change your mind, she could. Or if not, at least she could keep you safe.”