The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,86

regiment heading our way. Double the numbers in our caravan. To stop us, or escort us in? It was not customary for outpost caravans to be greeted this way—but then challenged kings were not usually part of a returning caravan.

“Arms ready,” I called. The order rolled back along the caravan like a war chant. “Move forward.”

As we got closer, Captain Azia shouted more orders and the caravan spread out, creating a wide, formidable line. Shields were raised. We were facing our own—not exactly how I had envisioned beginning my reign. The kingdom was more divided than I’d thought. Sven rode on one side of me, and Azia on the other. Faces came into view, General Draeger foremost among them.

“I’m not liking this,” Sven grumbled.

“Let’s give him a chance to do what’s right,” I said. I turned and yelled, “Hold!” to those behind me, then moved forward with my officers to meet him and his officers.

Several yards from one another, we all stopped.

“General Draeger,” I said firmly, and dipped my head in acknowledgment, trying to avoid a bloody outcome.

“Prince Jaxon,” he returned.

Prince. The heat rose on my neck. My eyes locked onto his.

“You’ve been out too long in the field, General,” I said. “You must not be aware, my title has changed—and yours has not.”

He smiled. “I think you’re the one who’s been gone too long.”

“Agreed. But I’m here now to take my rightful place on the throne.”

He returned my stare, neither correcting himself nor backing down. He was a young man for a general, no more than forty, and had been in the highest military position for three years, but perhaps he felt he had already outgrown it. He glanced at Sven and Azia, then briefly to the long line of soldiers behind us, assessing their numbers, and possibly their resolve.

“And now you think you’re here to stay put and rule?” he asked.

I answered him with an icy stare. He was pushing his limits and mine. “I am.”

He made a move, reaching for the pommel of his saddle, and Azia’s hand went to his sword.

“Steady,” I said.

The general swung down from his horse, and the troops behind him did the same. He looked into my eyes, sure and unafraid, and nodded. “Welcome home then, King Jaxon.” He dropped to one knee. “Long live the king,” he called. The soldiers both before and behind me, echoed his shout.

I looked at him and wondered, was he a truer subject to Dalbreck than any of us, willing to challenge me and risk his life to ensure stability for his kingdom, or had he judged the loyalty of those behind me against those behind him and decided to take the more prudent action? I would believe the former for now.

He rose and embraced me, and after some quickly offered condolences, the caravan continued, General Draeger riding between me and the captain. Tension still ran high. I saw Sven eyeing the general and exchanging glances with the officer on his right. Keep an eye on him. Stay close. Be aware. All the hidden messages I had learned to read in Sven’s eyes from years under his tutelage.

As we neared the gates, the general rode ahead to direct his troops, and I turned to Sven.

“Here,” I said, reaching behind me into my pack, rustling blindly through the contents until I found what I needed. “Take this to Merrick at the chanterie first thing. Judging by Draeger’s greeting, I’m not going to get a chance to slip away for several days. It’s a little something I lifted. Don’t show it to anyone else, and don’t tell anyone else. Merrick will know what to do.”

Sven looked at me incredulously. “You stole this?”

“You of everyone, Sven, should know that kings don’t steal things. We simply make acquisitions. Isn’t that in your bag of royal maxims?”

Sven sighed and mumbled almost to himself. “Why do I feel that this acquisition is only going to bring trouble?”

It already has, I thought, and now I was hoping it might bring the opposite, some sort of peace. I wondered if, in the list of royal truths, a king was allowed hope.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Lessons were learned, miles covered, messages sent, days of rain endured, arguments settled, weapons mastered. Natiya was exhausted, as she should have been. I had promised her that this would be no holiday, and I made sure it wasn’t. At times she stared at me with loathing, and other times I held her while she choked back sobs. I taught her everything I

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