Epilogue #3
“How…how did you…” I stammer, trying to find the right words and still processing what he’s telling me while mentally noting that he did not answer one of my questions.
He never said when he received it from Edmond, and that makes me more wary of lies.
“There’s nowhere in our laws that states the position can be passed down.
It has only ever been chosen by the king or queen. ”
He shrugs his shoulders. “My grandfather disagrees.”
My mouth falls open, and I snap it closed again. “Your grandfather?”
He nods toward the parchment in my hand. “You read his words yourself.”
“Edmond is your grandfather?” I say, unable to hide the shock in my voice. “I didn’t even know he had a son.”
“He did.” My mother’s voice is soft from behind me, and when I turn to look, her focus is still locked on the man. “You look so much like him, I can hardly believe it.”
He turns to her then, his face softening as he hinges into a deep bow. “Queen Mother, he had nothing but great things to say and fond memories to share about you.”
A quiet cough comes from the far wall, where Signee is leaning against it, trying to conceal a smile with her hand. The man glances at her before turning back to me.
“This letter does nothing,” I say, folding it back up and shoving it in my pocket. “And I don’t have time to pull the law books from the library right now, so if you’ll excuse me, mister…”
“Rowe. Weston Rowe, my queen.”
My traitorous stomach flips again at the sound of his name, and I blame it on the nerves.
“Mister Rowe,” I say curtly. “Like I said before, I am unable to discuss this at this time, so if you will please excuse me—”
“I have more proof of my position than the letter.” The shock at his arrogance and nerve in interrupting the queen flares in me, but it’s gone the moment he raises his hand and a flash of gold flickers in the torchlight.
My hand flies to my chest as my eyes zero in on the ring circling his finger, the thick band stamped with a design I could recognize anywhere.
“The seal of Blackwood, and the ring of the First Guard, my queen.”
I storm toward him, my steps angry and aggressive, before pulling myself to a halt. I don’t know this man, and I can’t get too close to him. I can’t trust anyone who just walks into the castle making unsupported claims, no matter who he knows or who he looks like.
“Where did you get that?” I cry. My palm flattens against my skin where the missing necklace used to lie until this morning. “That’s mine.”
“No,” he says firmly, his eyes sparkling with challenge. “It’s mine.”
My mouth gapes as I try to make sense of how he could have the ring I’ve worn around my neck every moment until now. How could any of this have happened? How could he have spoken to Edmond? How did he come to have the armor of the First Guard?
I shake my head in disbelief, and look to my mother, silently pleading for her thoughts on the matter. She must see the desperation in my eyes, because she doesn’t hesitate.
“The Rowe men are trusted and cherished by the royal family. If you are who you say you are, the son of my late husband’s most loyal friend and protector, and by the looks of you, I would assume so, then I believe you have the best interests of the kingdom at heart.
” She slowly turns to me, giving me a slight nod.
I clench my jaw tightly and turn back to Weston, sending him a glare that I hope conveys how annoying his appearance is today of all days, but my stare is only met with a smirk and sparkling teal eyes.
It is infuriating.
“I will look into the laws the moment the coronation ball is over, understood?” I snap. I barely get the last word out before something slams into my legs, almost knocking me off my already aching feet, and I look down to find…a child?
I stare down at the top of his head, mouth agape, as this child squeezes me as tightly as he can through my billowing skirt.
It’s only then that I finally look around and notice Weston is not the only one waiting in the entrance hall.
A small family stands off behind him. The man, who looks to be the father, holds a small infant.
The mother’s arms are laden with what looks like a set of staff uniforms, and a beaming smile lights up her face.
“Hello,” I say hesitantly, and the boy tilts his head back, looking up at me with a wide, toothy grin. I can’t help but smile at him, warmth blooming in my chest at the pure joy in his childish expression. Unwrapping his hands from my dress, I crouch down, and his eyes widen.
“So you were the princess,” he says, his boyish voice filled with wonder.
I chuckle softly. “I was. But now I’m the queen. What’s your name?”
“Fin,” Weston grumbles, and both the boy and my head snap toward the sound. Weston shakes his head slightly before jerking it backward, toward the family near the doorway.
“Oops! Sorry!” the boy, Fin, says before shrugging his shoulders to his ears and smiling sheepishly up at me.
“I forgot.” He steps backward before waving shyly at me, then turns and runs straight for the man at the back of the room.
I watch in disbelief as he waves wildly across the hall, and turn to see who he is looking at, only to find Signee, shaking her head with her arms crossed over her chest, a smile playing at her lips.
I press my fingertips to my forehead, rubbing at the ache I can feel coming on. “I don’t know what is going on here, but it all needs to end. Now. I have a coronation to attend.”
“I’ll lead the way, my queen,” Weston says, taking a step toward me, but I react, holding my hands out to halt him.
“No. No. You can stay here and wait. I will have someone collect you after.”
He shakes his head. “As you are aware, the First Guard has a role in the ceremony, and since that is my position, I will be going in with you.”
I gawk at him in disbelief, and the hold I had on my heavily practiced queenly decorum snaps. “Who do you think you are, showing up here and demanding to take part? You don’t even know what to do!”
“I’ll explain,” Signee calls out from the side of the room, and my eyes shoot daggers at her for her quick betrayal.
“It’s for your protection, my queen.” The depth of his voice sends shivers down my spine, and I hope no one can see how affected I am by it. “I will not let you walk into a room filled with representatives from other kingdoms completely unguarded.”
“Fine,” I grind out, my teeth clenched tightly as I try to figure out how much time we have spent in here, leaving everyone in the throne room waiting.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Weston grunts, and I roll my eyes, no longer caring if my response to his challenging nature looks bad to anyone around.
“What could I possibly be forgetting after you show up unannounced and force your way into my court?” I snap.
Burning sparks in my chest when his smirk expands into a dazzling smile.
“My oath? You can’t have a First Guard complete his duty without swearing it.”
I clench my teeth because I know he’s right, and the fact that he looks so content to have bested me makes my blood boil.
Giving him a curt nod, I track his movements as his hand hovers over the hilt of his sword, his head tilting in the first acknowledgement of needing my permission before he draws his weapon.
“Yes, fine, just make it quick,” I say, and his sword sings as he pulls it from the sheath.
Weston steps forward, eliminating almost all the space between us as he digs the point of the blade into the stone floor and sinks to one knee. My breath catches in my throat when he looks up at me, his expression filled with something I can’t quite place, and I feel my irritation lessen slightly.
“I, Weston Rowe,” he starts, and any noise in the entrance hall dims as my body squares with his, as if on its own.
“Pledge my service to the kingdom of Blackwood. I give my sword, my body, my life…” He pauses, swallowing hard, but still holding my gaze.
“Everything…to my queen. I swear my loyalty to her, Lennox Holt, and vow to stay by her side, no matter what she commands, however or whenever she will have me, despite her duty or her choice, until the breath stills in my lungs.”
The breath stills in my lungs, and I barely notice the hand I have pressed against my chest, over my heart.
“Long live the queen.”
My chest heaves, and my body feels paralyzed as I’m pinned to this spot by his smoldering gaze and scorching voice. Lips parting slightly, I know if I try to speak, my voice might not cooperate. But I have to say something.
“Those aren’t the words.”
“Those are the words, my queen.”
I don’t know how long we stay like this, locked in a heated trance that makes the rest of my worries and responsibilities fall away. It breaks the moment he rises from his bent knee, his tall, broad frame towering over me so I have to crane my neck to look at him.
“One more thing.” Weston reaches into the belt at his back, and the slice of metal rings through the air. I gasp as he closes the remaining distance between us, stepping forward, his armor-clad body no doubt poised to attack.
I knew I couldn’t trust him. I should have listened to my years of training. He’s going to kill me before my coronation. The story, the letter, the oath—it was all a ruse to get close to the queen.
He extends a blade in front of him, and before I can even think, I move. Wrapping my hand around his wrist, I wrench it down and slide the hilt of the weapon into my fingers, flipping the blade in my hand so it’s ready to strike.
But I don’t strike.
I stare.
I’ve never moved like that before. I never truly learned how to use a dagger before Brynne disappeared. But it isn’t just the movements that have caught me completely off guard.
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I take in the hilt that rests on my palm and the glitter of the sharp blade that points at Weston’s abdomen.
My dagger.
He had my dagger.
My head snaps up, and the dazzling grin that spreads across his face makes my chest squeeze and my heart race. I look up at his sparkling and heated gaze, but notice he doesn’t at all look surprised.
His voice drops, low enough so only I can hear it, and my knees threaten to collapse as he leans forward ever so slightly.
“There she is.”