Chapter 21
Cael followed Bres through the palace corridors, the opulent decor a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him. Bres seemed to revel in his surroundings, greeting the passing guards and servants with a warm smile and boisterous cheer which Cael knew concealed his true nature.
As they approached a set of ornately carved doors, Bres turned to Cael, his face splitting into a wide grin. "I'm sure you'll find these chambers to your liking, nephew. Only the finest for a prince of Zyranth."
Cael said nothing, his jaw clenched as Bres ushered him through the doors into another lavishly appointed room while two of the guards followed close behind. The moment the doors closed behind them, Bres' demeanor shifted, the jovial facade melting away to reveal the cold, calculating uncle Cael remembered.
Bres made a slight motion with his finger, and the two guards moved. Before Cael could react, they seized his arms in a vice-like grip, wrenching them behind his back. He struggled against their hold, but they forced him to his knees with brutal efficiency.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Bres circled him, an amused smirk playing across his features. "Come now. Did you truly believe your little disappearing act would go unpunished? You've caused quite the stir with your petulant defiance."
Cael strained against the guards' grip, his muscles straining. "I am the true heir. You cannot treat me like a common criminal!"
A guard delivered a sharp blow to the back of Cael's head, making his vision swim. "Mind your tongue, boy."
"At first, I thought perhaps you died in deep space," Bres said, his voice low and menacing. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you had."
Cael met his uncle's icy glare, refusing to show any outward sign of the fear gripping his insides. He opened his mouth to respond, but Bres held up a hand, silencing him.
"Don't bother trying to explain yourself," he spat. "I know all about your little escapade with that human whore. Did you think you could evade me forever?"
Cael's hands curled into fists as Bres paced before him like a predator sizing up its prey.
"I should have known you'd never be fit to rule after your father's passing. You're nothing but a spoiled, reckless child."
With each biting insult, Cael felt his anger rising and threatening to boil over. He wanted nothing more than to make his uncle pay for his treachery. But he knew he had to remain calm and bide his time until the right moment presented itself. Cael clenched his jaw, his silver eyes boring into his uncle's. He would not cower before this man any longer.
"You speak of my recklessness?" Cael's deep voice rumbled with barely contained fury. "What of your own misdeeds, uncle? Your despicable partnership with Lord Krissayr and the profiteering from the slave trade?"
Bres' face contorted with rage, his fleshy cheeks flushing a deep purple.
"I know the truth. You've been providing security for Lord Krissayr's slave dealings, all for the sake of lining your pockets with ill-gotten wealth."
Bres opened his mouth, but Cael pressed on.
"What would your own brother think to see you smearing the honor of our family name? To see you dragging the crown through the filth of your greed and depravity?"
For a long moment, Bres said nothing, his chest heaving with indignant breaths. When he finally spoke, his voice was little more than a snarl. "The Council will never believe you. Your baseless accusations will only seal your fate."
Cael felt a surge of reckless defiance course through him. "We'll see about that. I'll expose your lies and corruption to the council—to all of Zyranth, if I must. I won't let you sully my family's legacy with your vile acts."
Bres' lips peeled back in an ugly sneer. "You forget your place, nephew. I am regent now. My word is law on Zyranth. And you …” He leaned in close, his fetid breath hot swept over Cael's face. "You will learn to hold your tongue. Or I'll have it cut out."
Rage boiled in Cael's veins at the injustice, at his uncle's blatant power grab. He thrashed against his captors with renewed vigor. "The Council won't stand for this."
"Silence!" Bres roared, his face twisting into an ugly sneer as he straightened. "The Council believes you've proven yourself unfit to rule, more concerned with your own hedonistic whims than your duty to your people. In fact, there are whispers amongst the Elders that you should be executed for your crimes. But it would be such a waste. Chief Elder Xandar is still hoping to see his daughter, Cara, on the throne someday, and I am looking forward to having Xandar's political sway supporting me as regent for many years to come."
He stepped back, smoothing his robes as he regained his composure. "No, I will not allow your incompetence to jeopardize my plans any further. You'll remain confined here until the binding ceremony takes place. Tomorrow. After you're legally linked to Cara, I'll find some useful employment to keep you out of trouble."
The words struck Cael like a blow to the gut. A binding ceremony? Tomorrow?
"I will never agree to this farce," Cael growled through gritted teeth. "I'll fight you at every step."
Bres laughed. "And what do you suppose will happen to your human pet if you do? Perhaps I'll delay her return to Lord Krissayr while my guards play with her. After watching a dozen of them handle your new toy, you may find yourself more acquiescent."
With a final disdainful look over his shoulder, Bres strode from the room. The guards threw Cael to the floor and followed, locking the doors behind them. With his uncle's threat hanging in the air, Cael remained motionless, his heart thundering in his ears as the weight of his situation hit him.
He was well and truly trapped.
Cael paced the confines of his lavish prison cell, his mind racing. He had to find a way out. He had to save Midori. His gaze swept over the ornate furnishings, searching for anything he could use to aid his escape.
The doors and windows were secured no doubt, the walls too thick and sturdy to break through. He considered the heavy wooden chairs, testing their weight in his hands. Strong enough to serve as a battering ram perhaps, but the noise would draw unwanted attention. No doubt his uncle had several guards stationed at his door.
His thoughts turned to Midori, and his heart clenched with worry. Cael knew his uncle would carry out his threats and harm her to make him comply. The thought made his blood burn. Cael's mind was a whirlwind of regret and uncertainty. How could he have been so foolish as to return to Zyranth before ensuring Midori's safety? He should have smuggled her off-world, far from the reaches of his corrupt uncle.
But in his haste to uncover the truth and regain his rightful place, he had endangered the one person he loved with all his heart. The memory of Midori's smile, the musical lilt of her laughter, made him ache with worry over what horrors she might be facing.
Bres' vicious threat still rang in his ears, igniting a simmering rage within Cael's core. If any harm befell Midori because of his mistakes . . . He clenched his fists, the tattoos rippling across his forearms as his muscles tightened. No, he refused to entertain such thoughts. He would escape this gilded cage and rescue her, no matter what it took.
His mind turned to Baelor, the revelation of his friend's apparent betrayal leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Did Baelor alert Bres of their return? The confusion on his face when the regent met them at the docking bay seemed too genuine to be an act. But then, Baelor convinced him he was a hardened commander only following orders just a few days ago.
Cael slammed a fist against the wall in frustration, the impact stinging his flesh. He had to know the truth, had to find out if Baelor had played him false all along. Because if not, it meant there was still an ally to be leveraged in his fight against Bres' tyranny. Maybe he could smuggle Midori off-world to some place safe.
So many uncertainties swirled through Cael's turbulent thoughts as he struggled to formulate a plan. Who could he trust within the palace walls? Beyond Baelor's possible allegiance, there were still far too many missing pieces to the puzzle of his uncle's corruption. Cael knew he would need solid proof to display before the Council of Elders—if they would even allow him to present it. He needed undeniable evidence to strip away Bres' fa?ade of legitimacy.
A sudden knock at the door snapped Cael from his dark thoughts. He tensed, moving to a defensive stance as the lock cycled open with a heavy thunk. The door swung inward, and Cael's eyes widened in surprise.
It was Cara.
The raven-haired woman swept into the chamber, her bearing as regal and elegant as ever. She moved with a purposeful grace, her jewel-toned robes swirling about her ankles.
"You," Cael growled, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"
Cara regarded him with one delicate eyebrow arching upward. "Is that any way to greet your betrothed, my prince?"
Cael bristled at her mocking tone. "I want no part of whatever game you and my uncle are playing, Cara. If you're here to taunt me?—"
"Peace, Cael," she replied, holding up a slender hand. "I am not your enemy here."
He searched her face, looking for any hint of deception. Finding none, he relaxed his stance, though his eyes remained narrowed with suspicion.
"Then why are you here? If Bres discovers you speaking with me . . .”
"He will think I'm discussing details with my betrothed, nothing more. Besides, we have much to speak about. Your uncle has just informed me our union is to take place tomorrow."
Cael eyed Cara, his jaw tightening. "If you think I'll go along with this farce of a binding ceremony, you're mistaken."
Cara held his gaze. "And what choice do you have, my prince? Your uncle holds all the power now. If you refuse, he will make good on his threats against the human woman."
A muscle jumped in Cael's cheek at the reminder of Bres' cruel words. He opened his mouth to protest, but Cara raised a hand.
"Peace, Cael. I did not come here to trade barbs. I may be the only ally you have left within these palace walls."
Cael scoffed at that. "An ally? Your father has been scheming with my uncle from the start to secure this arranged union. What reason could you possibly have to help me?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Cara's full lips. "You know so little of me, Cael. I want what is best for Zyranth, same as you. And I know your uncle's reign will only lead our world down a path of ruin." She paused for a moment and continued, "Perhaps you have not considered the fact that I have no desire to bind myself to you, either."
He regarded her, still uncertain if he could trust her words. "And what path do you propose instead?"
"One where the rightful heir takes his place on the throne," Cara replied without hesitation. "You."
Cael blinked at her blunt declaration. "You . . . you would go against your own father to support my claim?"
Cara's expression hardened. "My father is not as enamored with the regent as Bres might think. He's suspected Bres of using his position for his own gain but hasn't had the means to prove it. The regent no longer acts in the best interests of Zyranth. If deposing him is what it takes to restore order and dignity to our home, then so be it."
Cael searched her striking features, looking for any hint of deception. But he saw only a firm resolve burning in her silver eyes. "And how do you propose we go about this? Bres has me under heavy guard. And he's threatened to harm Midori if I don't comply."
"We cannot act rashly," Cara said, shaking her head. "Any overt attempts at defiance will only result in your uncle tightening his grip on power. And who knows what horrors he may inflict on your human friend."
Cael's heart twisted at the thought. He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out rising within him like a tidal wave of fury. But Cara placed a calming hand on his arm, her touch a surprising balm against his rage.
"The solution lies in securing allies among the Council of Elders first," she said, her voice level and assured. "My father still holds sway with many on the Council. If we can turn enough against your uncle and expose his misdeeds, we can strip him of his authority without the need for violence."
Cael considered her words, a glimmer of hope sparking to life in his chest. Could it be that simple? Undermine his uncle from within using the very power structure he'd tried to corrupt?
"You would stand with me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Cara held his gaze, her expression resolute. "I stand with Zyranth, Cael. And you are its true heir, its only hope of restoring honor to the crown." Her hand found his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But you must trust me. Can you do that?"
Cael stared at their joined hands, his mind whirling. He knew trusting Cara came at great risk, but her words rang with a sincerity he could not ignore, a conviction which stirred something deep within him.
He met her gaze once more and gave a solemn nod.