Page 81 of Crown of Iron
“I didn't know you and Borin were considering children of your own. I thought that is why you chose me.”
He squeezes my hand. “We had chosen a surrogate just before you were born. Borin saw the way I was completely enamored with you, and he knew. Besides, he fell in love with you just as quickly. We agreed it was best to not bring our own children into the situation. The resentment and possibility of them questioning the validity of your crown wasn't a dilemma we wanted you to face. You and Lucent are worth the sacrifice.”
All the air leaves my lungs. Micah and Borin have always loved and nurtured me as their own, but to hear they gave up having children for me. I'm torn between gratitude and sadness and a desire to be everything they believe.
I fling my arms around his neck and inhale his grounding scent of turned earth and cedar.
“Make no mistake, Raelle, I'm here to guide you and I look forward to marveling at the kingdom you will build.”
Tears well in my eyes and my voice is hoarse as I say, “Thank you, Micah.”
“It is my pleasure to serve you, My Queen.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and stands. “I'm done boring you for the day. You should leave the palace and go home. Spend time with your siblings and mother, and you and I will get back to all the mind-numbing minutiae in a few days. I think my darling husband could use a small getaway.”
I curtsy, saying, “I'm sure he could, Your Majesty.”
Micah's story replays in my head as I stroll to my quarters. The sacrifices he and Borin made are unfathomable and well beyond the duties of a king to his kingdom. I don't know how I will ever measure up to him, but I want to try. He believes I'm worthy, and I want to believe it, too.
“Your Grace.” A teenage boy with rumpled blond hair and a dirty tunic hurries to catch up with me. He holds out a letter and pants. “This just came for you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
I walk toward my room and study the unfamiliar script on the front. Breaking the seal, I read the note inside.
The wall awaits for you to conquer or fall.
End of day.
Market square.
My heart pounds against my ribs and my breath quickens as I read the words over and over again. The wall I need to conquer? My mind flashes with memories of wooden planks built toward the sky and ropes dangling down the side. The wall awaits atBasecamp. The plan is set and now, I must choose. Do I stay safe in the capital, or do I prepare for battle?
Never did I think I would find myself conflicted when the call came to rescue my father. I always pictured myself racing out the door and riding nonstop to join the others. But after my morning with Micah, I'm not so sure it's the best idea. I don't know if the prophecy is about me, but he believes it, and the future of this kingdom rests on my shoulders. I hate to think I'm letting him down.
I spend the afternoon pacing my room, staring at the empty satchel resting in the chair before the fire. A few times, I wander into my wardrobe and gather clothes suitable for riding. But I walk out every time with my hands empty.
“Get yourself together, Raelle,” I say, falling onto the couch and placing my face in my palms. My mind races with conflicting thoughts, trying to muddle through my divided emotions.
If something happens to me, Micah won't have an heir. I also fought for my place on the mission to save my father. But his soldiers are capable without me. Yet this mission is taking place at just the right time. It’s almost like divine intervention that Micah has sent me home for a few days. If I go though, I'm not sure I can handle breaking my mother's heart again. And how would that look to my people? Every eye is looking to me as their next leader and I can’t even be honest with my loved ones. However, the plan to get into Stigian relies on me and my gift. The soldiers need me to pull this off.
I stand, grab the satchel, and bound for my wardrobe. Minutes later, I exit my room, heading for the foyer. The footman greets me, and I informhim I’ll need a carriage to take me home. While he prepares the horses, I bounce on the balls of my feet and watch the sun move across the western sky. If I don't make it to the meeting place on time, my escort will have no choice but to leave without me. After the run-in I had with outlanders on my way to Basecamp, it's not a good idea for me to ride alone at night. I have to make it to the market on time.
The carriage pulls to the front of the palace, and I hike up the hem of my dress and step inside. It sets into motion, and I watch the pristine grounds pass by, waiting for the right moment to pose the question that will change our course.
As soon as we pass the palace's front gates, I stick my head out the window and call up to the driver. “Excuse me.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man holding the reins says over the clapping horses' hooves.
“Do you mind dropping me off at the market? I just remembered that my sister said my family would be there this evening. I can get a ride home with them.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
I lean back in the seat and run my palms over the skirt of my dress. My lie should buy me the time I need. Mother doesn't know Micah sent me home, and the palace staff believes that’s where I'm headed. By the time anyone realizes I'm gone, I’ll hopefully be at the Stigian gates.
The driver stops and opens the door for me. I wish him a good evening before merging with the bustling crowd. I rush toward the square where the finest tailors and galleries surround an enormous fountain. Walking around the focal point, I watch for a familiar face. When no one I recognize shows up, I move to the corner along the main road and lean against a lamppost. “Shit,” I hiss, fearing I'm too late.
“Looking for someone, my lady?” asks a gruff voice with a thick country accent.
“No, sir,” I lie, wrinkling my nose as the breeze carries a horrific smell.
