The Runaway King
“Nothing is wrong with his story. You’ve become so unstable, obviously the only thing wrong is with you!” Gregor paused and checked himself, then lowered his voice. “Forgive my outburst, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean that.”
But he had meant it. And from one glance at my regents, I could tell he wasn’t alone in thinking it. Only Kerwyn, standing silently in the corner, seemed to be on my side.
I swallowed my emotions, then calmly said, “You misunderstand the reasons why the pirates want my life. Whether I’m hiding or not, whether I’m king or not, they intend to finish the job Conner hired them to do four years ago. They don’t want a treaty or a trade agreement. Nothing will satisfy them but my death. This is a threat that cannot be negotiated away.”
“Negotiations always worked for your father,” Mistress Orlaine said.
“My father was wrong!” Which was something I’d never spoken aloud, never really even dared to think. I straightened up and said, “When the other side only wants our destruction, what is left to negotiate? I’m asking you to follow me. Because if we don’t defend ourselves now, then after the pirates come, Avenia’s armies won’t be far behind.”
“Which is why we believe the solution is to remove the pirates’ motivation for coming in the first place.” Now Gregor stood, facing me directly. “Jaron, the regents will not support any act of war as a solution to this problem.”
I stared at them, aghast. “As of tonight, the pirates are already at war with us. Ignoring that reality doesn’t mean we’re at peace.” A few heads nodded back at me, but not enough.
“We’ll find a way to avoid war . . . without you.” Gregor’s voice was icy now.
My mind went to what Conner had said in the dungeon. Without me alive, Carthya probably could avoid war, a convenient option for everyone. Except me, of course.
I set my jaw forward. “Has there been a vote?”
He shook his head, then said, “Maybe we can’t force you to hide, but we can install a steward until you’re of age and ready to become king again. Don’t make this a fight, Jaron. You’re alone here.”
Also as Conner had said. “And will you be the steward?” I asked.
Gregor cleared his throat again. “In times of war I’m the logical choice. Besides, Amarinda will be queen of this country one day. She fully supports my leadership and I’m certain would give that endorsement to the regents.”
“She’s not queen yet,” I said.
Kerwyn stepped between us and addressed Gregor. “There are two vacancies amongst the regents right now. One is from the regent who would have killed Jaron if he’d found him at Farthenwood. The second is from the regent who did kill Jaron’s family. The king is young. But I still trust him above anyone in this room.”
“Hopefully one day we’ll learn to trust him, too.” Gregor turned back to me. “It’s just until you come of age, Jaron. And for your own good.”
I started to retort but Kerwyn put a hand on my arm, urging me not to continue the argument. He was right to stop me. I couldn’t win this battle.
They had left me with only one choice now, and my palms were already sweating at the thought of it. I felt as if I were standing deep inside my own grave, with the climb out beyond anything I could reach. And yet I must climb. My first step would begin right here with my regents.
Already anticipating the answer, I forced my hands to unclench and looked at Gregor. “When am I leaving, then?”
“At dawn. We’ll complete an investigation of what happened tonight, and then move forward with diplomatic efforts to solve this problem.”
I shook my head. “You must delay any vote for a steward until that investigation is complete. The pirates gave me ten days. You give me nine.”
Gregor hesitated, but Kerwyn said, “That’s acceptable. No investigation could be adequate any sooner than that.”
“And what about the princess?” I asked. “Her safety?”
“You were targeted tonight, not her. I’m certain that she’s safe here.” Then Gregor added, “You are right to support this plan, Your Majesty.”
I took that in with a slow nod. “Do you think I want to run?”
He only said, “You’ll return soon. And you’ll see, in the end, everything will be for the best.”
I left the throne room alone, too wound up for sleep and too exhausted for everything this night still required of me.
The last thing I needed was to come face-to-face with Amarinda, who had clearly been waiting in the passageway for the meeting to end. I offered her a curt nod of respect, then said, “Which of the regents are you waiting for? Or is Gregor the one you want most?”
Amarinda’s almond-colored eyes narrowed as her gaze descended on me. She was uncommonly pretty and had a way of unnerving me whenever I looked directly at her. So I rarely did.
“I came to speak with you.” Her tone was livid. “I heard what you did to Imogen. How dare you? She did nothing to deserve that!”
I turned on her with my own anger. “And tell me, what did Conner do to deserve such a fine meal, hand-delivered by you?”
“You were supposed to have eaten it tonight, at supper with me!” I couldn’t argue with her there. For the past week, I’d found something better to do at nearly every mealtime. Then her temper cooled. “I had hoped you’d be there, so we could talk.”
Something in her voice made me regret having so casually dismissed the time with her. “All right. Perhaps we should talk now.”
I held out my arm for her and we began walking down the corridor. Several seconds passed when I couldn’t think of anything to say, and she seemed equally uncomfortable. Finally, she said, “You want what’s best for Carthya and so do I. Why are we so far apart?”
Because she had brought food and comfort to a man who had tried to kill me. And confided in another man who was at that moment working to take my throne.
I replaced her question with one of my own. “How was the funeral? I only heard a small part of it.”
She pressed her lips together, then said, “It was lovely. Though I must say that even if you’re angry about what your family did to you, it was terribly disrespectful not to attend.”
“I’m not angry with them, and I didn’t want to miss it.”
“Then what could possibly have taken priority? Unless you were lying somewhere half-dead, you should have been there!”
I stopped and stared at her. She tilted her head as she realized what that meant. “Oh no. Forgive me for not knowing. What are we going to do?”
She said we, and that stopped me for a moment. Despite her loyalties to Gregor, was it possible she wanted a stronger partnership for us?
“Before anything else, will you help Imogen?” I asked. “See that she has whatever she needs to live in comfort . . . elsewhere.”
“Please let her stay. Whatever she did to offend you, she’s still my friend, and she has nowhere else to go.”
“She cannot stay here,” I mumbled. “That decision is final.”
“But why —” Then she caught herself, as if understanding the things I could not explain. “All right. I’ll help her.”