The Runaway King

“You should have forbidden her from going.”



“I could also command the sun not to rise and yet it would. She would have gone anyway, Jaron.”



“And what about you? I left you in a terrible position.”



“Not really.” Her long eyelashes fluttered, then she said, “My part in this was insignificant.”



“Nothing was more significant than to have someone to carry on for Carthya. Besides that, I put you at risk. Mott has already ridden on ahead to inform Kerwyn of Gregor’s treachery.” For that part, I barely looked at her. Gregor had been her closest friend. “My biggest worry was what would happen to you if I didn’t return.”



“If there was any threat, Gregor would have protected me. Whatever his intentions with you, he’d still have made sure I was safe.” She lowered her eyes. “I think he believed that once he sat on the throne, he’d have me for a wife.”



“Was he correct?”



She frowned. “Under no circumstances would I ever have accepted him. Did you think I could spend so much time with him and not see what he was?”



“Then you knew?”



“Not exactly. But I was suspicious. After your family’s deaths, I realized there had been small hints of his disloyalty. I made the decision to form a friendship with Gregor, hoping that in a closer relationship I could find some evidence against him. The only reason I brought Conner that dinner was because Gregor had suggested it. I think that was his way of testing me against you.”



“His test nearly worked. I was ready to declare you a traitor.” The thought of how things could have turned out so much worse made me shudder. I added, “You risked so much. Why didn’t you just tell me?”



She straightened her back. “I could barely tell you the time of day without you cutting off our conversation. Besides, he was your captain. I didn’t want to come to you with accusations that I couldn’t prove. Then everything happened so fast after the assassination attempt. I tried to talk with you late that night, but the vigils at your door told me you had snuck out and nobody knew where you were. Then you were gone so quickly the next morning.”



I leaned back in my chair and chuckled at that. With a curious tilt of her head, she said, “I just confessed to keeping a secret that nearly got you killed. I thought you’d be angry, not amused.”



“I’m only angry with myself.” I sighed. “Mott was right all along. I am a fool. I knew of your friendship with Gregor. Because of that, I wouldn’t talk to you either. If I had, everything might have been so much simpler.”



“Oh.” Amarinda smiled shyly. “It’s a wonder you and I found anything at all to talk about.”



“We didn’t, not really. Imogen kept asking me to make things right with you, but I wouldn’t. Any failure between us is entirely my fault.”



Amarinda pressed her lips together, then said, “I heard that Imogen stayed behind, in Libeth.”



“Yes.”



“Do you hate me, because I’m not her, because you’ll have to marry me one day?”



I stared at her a moment before I snorted out another impolite laugh. She flashed a glare that too quickly turned to pain. “Forgive me,” I said. “It’s just that those were nearly the words I’ve wanted to say to you all this time, and never dared.” Before she could speak, I added, “Do you hate me? Because I’m not my brother and because you’ll have to marry me one day?”



A very slow smile crossed her face and she gave an understanding nod and gestured with her hand. It brushed against mine. She started to pull it back but I took hers and held it, in a sign of our partnership, that from now on we would stand together. Her hand was closed in a fist at first, but she slowly relaxed and folded it into mine. I’d never held someone’s hand before, not like this. It was both wonderful and frightening.



“I’m letting her go,” I said. “And I’m asking you to let him go too.”



She nodded slowly. “Are we friends, Jaron?”



“We are.”



With her other hand, Amarinda brushed my forearm where the mark of the pirates was branded into my skin. The burn was still red and tender, but somehow it didn’t hurt the way she touched it.



“It might fade eventually,” I said, “but it will never go away.”



“It shouldn’t go away. It’s part of your history now. What you’ve done is a part of Carthya’s history.”



“Still, I’ll try to keep it hidden whenever possible.”



Amarinda’s grip tightened. “It’s not necessary for you to hide that. Nor to hide anything from me.”



There was silence again, but less awkward than before. Her hand felt soft and I wondered if mine was too rough to be comfortable for her. I hoped that I had not become too rough for her.



Finally, I grinned and said, “I won’t eat meat if it’s been overcooked.” She glanced up at me, confused, and I added, “I thought you should know that, since we’re going to be friends now.”



Amarinda’s smile widened. “I think it’s unfair that women aren’t allowed to wear trousers. They seem far more comfortable than dresses.”



I chuckled. “They’re not. Every year I think fashion invents one more piece I have to add to my wardrobe.”



“And one more layer to my skirts.” She thought for a moment, then said, “I think it’s funny when you’re rude to the cook. I shouldn’t admit that, but his face turns all sorts of colors when you are and there’s nothing he can do about it.”



“He can overcook my meat.”



This time she laughed and even gave my hand a squeeze. We fell silent. After a while I said, “I won’t rule as my father did, and you can never expect me to be my brother. But I’ll rule the best way I can and hope it will be enough to make you a proud queen one day.”



“What about this day?” When she smiled at me, it was obvious that something had changed between us. She added, “Jaron, I’m proud of what you did for Carthya, proud that you trusted me to rule while you were gone. And I’m proud to be sitting beside you now. There are great things ahead for us.”



And for the first time since becoming king, I believed her.



It was late evening when we rode into Drylliad. Even then, the streets seemed quieter than usual and many of the homes were dark. Perhaps the time was much later than I had thought. Still tired, I laid my head against the seat as we entered through the castle gates. Fink parted the curtained windows of the carriage and tried to talk to me, but Harlowe firmly shushed him and told him to give me some silence.



So much had changed since I had left nearly two weeks ago. Some things were for the better. Carthya was safe from Gregor and a pirate attack, both Roden and Amarinda were with me, and the threat of a steward had passed. But not everything was how I wanted it. I vaguely wondered if my father would approve of what I’d done. Probably not, but I could accept that.



“Are you ready for this?” I asked Harlowe as our carriage stopped. “With all apologies, you’ll soon see what it means to be associated with me.” Whatever the people thought of me, I hoped they’d give Harlowe the respect he deserved.