Chapter 32 — Alexander Goes to War
Amara had seen Alexander angry.
She had seen him irritated, jealous, exhausted, stubborn, and furious enough to frighten other men.
She had never seen him like this.
The morning after the second kidnapping, Alexander entered the command room aboard King Adisa’s flagship and closed the door behind him.
No jokes.
No arguments.
No smile.
A large map covered the table. King Adisa, Kellan, Minister Okoro, and several officers were already waiting.
Alexander placed three interrogation reports beside the map.
“We know where Rourke is.”
Everyone became silent.
Kellan stepped closer.
“Where?”
Alexander pointed to a position north of the harbor.
“An abandoned coastal fort. One of the prisoners confirmed it. Another gave us the same location without knowing the first man had talked.”
“How many men?”
“Between thirty and forty. Possibly more.”
Adisa looked at him.
“And Rourke?”
“Inside.”
The King’s expression hardened.
“Then we take him.”
Alexander nodded.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
There was something in his voice that made even Kellan look at him differently.
This was no longer the man who traded insults with Amara over dinner.
This was an officer preparing for battle.
Amara entered before the meeting ended.
Alexander looked up.
“No.”
She stopped.
“I haven't said anything.”
“You're not coming.”
Her eyebrows rose.
Kellan quietly moved away from the table.
He had learned.
“Alexander.”
“No.”
“You do remember what happens when you give me orders?”
“Usually something expensive involving a horse.”
Nobody laughed.
Alexander walked toward her.
“This is different.”
“Why?”
“Because Rourke knows he's trapped. A trapped man is dangerous.”
“And he kidnapped me.”
“Exactly.”
“Which is why I have a right to be there.”
“You have a right to see him tried. You do not need to stand in the middle of gunfire to achieve that.”
Amara stared at him.
Normally Alexander would soften the statement with humor.
He did not.
She finally understood.
He was afraid.
Not for himself.
For her.
“I stay aboard the flagship,” she said.
Alexander nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Amara almost objected simply because he sounded too pleased.
Instead, she touched his arm.
“Bring him back alive.”
“That is the plan.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
She looked into his eyes.
“Come back alive too.”
For the first time that morning, something in Alexander’s expression softened.
“That is also the plan.”
They moved before dawn the following day.
Three groups approached the fort from separate directions.
Kellan commanded the royal soldiers advancing from the north. Another unit blocked the road toward the coast.
Alexander led the smaller force approaching from the south.
No banners.
No ceremony.
No unnecessary noise.
The fort stood on high ground above the water, partly ruined but still defensible. Rourke had chosen it well.
Alexander studied it through a field glass.
Two guards above the eastern wall.
Another near the entrance.
Movement behind the broken tower.
He lowered the glass.
“They're expecting us.”
An officer beside him asked, “Change the plan?”
“No.”
Alexander pointed toward the eastern wall.
“We make them believe the main attack is there. Kellan moves only when they shift men away from the north.”
The officer nodded.
Alexander checked his weapon.
“Remember: Rourke alive.”
“And if he resists?”
Alexander's face remained expressionless.
“Stop him. Don't execute him.”
The distinction mattered.
Amara wanted justice.
Alexander intended to give her exactly that.
The first shots came minutes later.
Rourke's men fired from the fort.
Alexander's soldiers answered.
Then they moved.
Fast.
Disciplined.
Alexander gave short commands and expected them to be obeyed instantly.
There was no charming Captain Whitmore now.
No man exchanging jokes with a princess.
He moved through gunfire with the calm precision of someone trained to function while everyone else was frightened.
The eastern attack drew Rourke's men exactly where Alexander expected.
A signal sounded.
Kellan's soldiers advanced from the north.
Within minutes, the defenders realized they were being attacked from two sides.
Several surrendered immediately.
Others ran.
Alexander entered the outer courtyard with his men.
A shot struck the stone near his shoulder.
He barely reacted.
“Left building!”
Two soldiers moved.
Another gunshot.
Then silence.
“Clear!”
Alexander continued.
Inside the fort, Rourke understood that he was losing.
“What happened to the southern road?”
“Blocked.”
“The boats?”
“Royal soldiers took the beach.”
Rourke swore.
Months earlier, Amara had warned him that her father would come.
He had laughed.
Now royal soldiers surrounded him.
He should have disappeared the moment he learned who she really was.
Instead, greed had convinced him that one final kidnapping could make him rich.
Now there was nowhere left to run.
“Get the horses.”
“They're gone.”
Rourke stared at the man.
Then gunfire sounded from the courtyard.
Closer.
He grabbed his pistol.
Alexander reached the central building with Kellan.
For once, neither needed to argue.
Kellan pointed toward the stairs.
Alexander nodded.
They moved together.
A man appeared above them.
“Drop it!”
The man hesitated, then surrendered.
Another tried to run through a side door and found royal soldiers waiting outside.
Alexander climbed the stairs.
At the top was a long corridor.
A door stood open at the far end.
He knew.
“Rourke!”
No answer.
Alexander moved forward.
Rourke stepped from behind the door with a pistol.
“Captain.”
Alexander stopped.
Kellan raised his weapon.
Rourke pointed his pistol directly at Alexander.
“So this is what she chose?”
Alexander remained calm.
“Put it down.”
“You think you're taking me back?”
“Yes.”
Rourke laughed.
“You have no idea how many people are involved.”
“Then you'll have plenty to discuss at your trial.”
Rourke's eyes moved toward the window.
Alexander saw it.
“No.”
Rourke ran.
Alexander went after him.
Rourke reached the outer balcony.
Below it, rocks dropped sharply toward the sea.
There was nowhere else to go.
Alexander approached slowly.
“It's over.”
Rourke aimed the pistol again.
“You should have stayed out of this.”
“You kidnapped the wrong woman.”
“She was worth a fortune.”
That sentence changed Alexander’s expression.
Not because Amara was a princess.
Because Rourke still did not understand.
“She was never something to sell.”
Rourke fired.
Alexander moved.
The shot missed.
Kellan and two soldiers rushed onto the balcony.
Rourke tried to fire again.
The weapon failed.
Alexander crossed the distance and knocked it from his hand.
Rourke fought desperately.
Alexander was stronger.
Within seconds, Rourke was on the ground.
Alexander could have killed him.
For one brief moment, Rourke saw that possibility in his eyes.
Then Alexander stepped back.
“Bind him.”
Kellan looked at him.
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
Rourke laughed bitterly.
“You don't want revenge?”
Alexander looked down at him.
“No.”
That answer frightened Rourke more than anger would have.
“You're going to stand in a courtroom,” Alexander said, “and hear the names of the people you stole. Then you're going to answer for every one of them.”
Royal soldiers pulled Rourke to his feet.
The war was over.
The royal fleet received the signal before noon.
Rourke captured alive.
Amara read the message twice.
Then she asked the only question that mattered.
“Alexander?”
The messenger smiled.
“Alive, Your Royal Highness.”
Amara closed her eyes.
Only then did she breathe normally.
Alexander returned near sunset.
Amara was waiting on the dock.
He looked exhausted. His uniform was dirty, and a shallow cut crossed one side of his face.
She walked toward him.
Then faster.
Alexander barely had time to smile before she threw her arms around him.
“You're bleeding.”
“Barely.”
“You were supposed to come back unharmed.”
“I promised alive.”
“That was not sufficiently specific.”
There she was.
Alexander laughed for the first time all day.
Amara touched his face carefully.
“Rourke?”
“Alive.”
“You could have killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
Alexander looked at her.
“Because you asked for justice.”
Amara kissed him.
Around them, soldiers politely became interested in everything except the princess and the captain.
When she finally pulled away, Alexander smiled.
“Was that royal approval?”
“No.”
“Gratitude?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Amara took his hand.
“That was because I love you, idiot.”
Alexander laughed.
The soldier disappeared.
The impossible captain returned.
And Amara was very glad to have him back.