Chapter 19
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
Clover,
It’s been six months since I’ve seen you, and Paul still insists on traveling to Dragon Village for the monthly sacrifices.
I’ve told my father repeatedly that it was unnecessary, but he doesn’t see it that way.
He’s convinced Paul will be my right hand when I’m finally allowed to take over the throne.
So I’m writing again to tell you not to come to Dragon Village for the sacrifices anymore until I tell you it's safe. Paul is a smart man and never puts himself in a situation where I can get to him, but all it takes is one slip. I’ll wait as long as I have to.
I don’t know how long I can go without seeing you before I lose myself completely. Do you know what I do now? I sit at my father’s table and listen to men laugh about things I will kill them for. I nod, play the part, and let them believe we are the same while deciding which of them will die first.
The faster we dismantle the labyrinth of evil my father has built, the faster I can bring you home. Every laugh I fake, every lie I tell, every name I add to the list all leads back to you. I’ve sold my soul so no one ever gets to take you from me again.
The smallest things set me off now. I think about the cold where you are, and it makes me irrational.
I imagine your hands freezing, and I want to burn the Human Kingdom to ash just to keep you warm.
I imagine someone looking at you the wrong way, and I have to physically stop myself from leaving in the middle of the night and beating my fists against the barrier until they split open.
This is what losing you again has done to me. Loving you has made me soft in the one place I can’t afford to be, and ruthless everywhere else to compensate.
I don’t sleep, and when I do, it’s you I see. In my dreams, you look at me like I’m worth saving. It’s funny, because we both know I’m no longer something that can be saved.
But I am something that will destroy everything standing between us. I don’t care how much blood it costs or what I become in the process.
I would cease to exist without you, and I don’t care to try.
I love you.
Yours,
Amos
Amos,
Your letters are the highlight of my week. Even when they’re dark and brooding, you still manage to make me feel like the most important person in the world. You’re also prone to theatrics that we should probably address.
Please don’t burn down an entire kingdom because I’m cold. I am managing—barely—and I’ve taken to wearing three pairs of socks at once. I had to buy new boots to accommodate, but at least my feet are warm.
My days are painfully normal compared to yours. I wake up before the sun because my brother insists bread waits for no one. I help knead dough until my arms feel like they’re going to fall off, then I spend the rest of the morning pretending I don’t want to throw flour at rude customers.
Amelia comes by almost every day. I think something’s going on with her. She’s seemed sad lately. I asked her once, but she insisted she was fine, so I didn’t push. I hate that she’s down.
Your sister is everything that is good in our world, and I think she’ll make an excellent queen when she marries the Mountain Prince.
You’d be proud of her. Though she does have a unique style that might not go over well with the fae.
Her dresses are interesting and she recently got a new pair of boots that are the color of baby shit. I wish you could see them.
I miss you madly, and I will find a way to see you in the capital if that’s what it takes. You’re not the only one willing to lie, cheat, and steal for the person they love.
You won’t lose yourself, because I won’t let you. I forbid it, actually, and unfortunately for you, I can be very stubborn.
I can’t come back to you if you’re gone.
I love you, Your Highness.
Clover
Amos read Clover’s letter for the third time, committing every word to memory like the others. An imposing knock on the door of his sitting room interrupted the best part of his day, and he sighed, dropping the letter into his desk drawer.
He flipped the lock on his bedroom door and walked into his sitting room, unsurprised to see his father step inside. “Father.” Amos gestured for him to have a seat and lowered himself into the opposite chair. “Is something wrong?”
Phillip sat down and crossed one leg over the other. “It’s time you and Jennifer marry.”
Amos had been preparing for this conversation for the last few years, and yet it still caught him off guard. Callum might tease him about having a death glare, but the truth was Amos’ mask never slipped.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked, lounging lazily in his chair.
The king sighed with exasperation. “Every heir in Eden marries by the age of twenty-two. It is not an idea. It’s tradition.”
“The Garden Prince didn’t,” Amos pointed out. The Garden heir had turned twenty-two not long ago and remained unmarried.
“His mate died,” Phillip informed him. “She was a half-human girl who died in a tragic accident when they were teenagers.” The king snorted. “Good riddance. Now he can find a suitable bride.”
Amos chuckled, hating every minute. “Agreed, but what I meant was that the people will want me on the throne when I turn twenty-five if I’m married. Two royals are more powerful than one.”
The king froze. “Jennifer is a woman. A royal woman might as well be a common fae.”
“You and I both know that’s not true. A woman she may be, but a royal is a royal. As my wife, she could glamour this entire kingdom at once if she wanted.” Amos leaned back. “I don’t want the throne yet.” He waved a hand in the air. “Too much responsibility.”
His father considered him, then looked away, lost in thought. “You make a good point. We shouldn’t risk it,” he agreed. “Once I’m ready to step down, you two can marry.”
Playing on his father’s desire to stay on the throne had been a risk, but Amos knew too much power made people greedy, and greed was a weakness easily exploited.
Satisfied with their conversation, Phillip stood and looked down his nose at Amos. “There’s a council meeting in the morning. There have been reports of rebel attacks on the East Oasis.”
Amos knew this. The Hydra had people everywhere, and they reported back to Rainer regularly.
Every kingdom had rebels who thought the royals should be taken off the throne.
They believed blood didn’t make you a leader.
They were right, but the royals were more powerful and could protect their kingdom with glamour better than a non-royal—as long as they weren’t corrupt like his father.
The Hydra wanted to make the kingdom better; the other rebels wanted the throne for themselves for no other reason than to rule.
This attack was more organized than most, and the rebels had quality armor and weapons.
Usually, rebels were sloppy and ill-equipped.
Before the Hydra had Amos’ backing, Rainer would travel to the capital and use his glamour to break into the homes of shitty highborns and steal.
Now Amos funneled money to the Hydra regularly.
Someone was backing the other rebels, and they needed to figure out who.