Golden Crown Read online

  Alex knew Anders didn’t agree with the plan, but he obeyed his king. They must pretend as if Alex and Tyson were still in camp. Not to mention Ara and Hendry. Their brother Renner would keep their absence under wraps.

  The next obstacle was getting to the other side of the palace without being seen by Leroy’s forces. They were camped right in the valley between the village and the castle.

  They passed the village, quiet in the night. Some villagers hid behind the inner palace walls, protected by the dowager queen. Still, others chose the side of the traitors. They were angry to find friends and neighbors were Belaens, the very people they were supposed to fight against.

  Alex rode at the head of their procession. A few extra guards accompanied them as Tyson explain exactly how to get to the cove at the end of the tunnels.

  The Black Forrest.

  Memories assaulted Alex as the tree cover enveloped them. Everything was the same. A peaceful quiet that only seemed to exist among these trees settled over them. It smelled of damp earth and blooming flowers, of a time when his heart had beat inside his chest.

  He didn’t want to remember. It would be easier to wash it all away, to focus on saving his mother, on taking back his throne.

  Easy didn’t seem possible. Not when every second he’d spent with Etta in the woods was burned into his brain. Why couldn’t he just despise her? His enemy. The girl with the most beautiful smile in the world. As amazing as it was rare.

  The woods weren’t where he’d first kissed her, but they were the place he’d first seen something deeper than the fierce face she put on for the world. It was the place he’d had all of her. No confusion. No anger. No crowns to worry about.

  He shook his head and met his brother’s sympathetic gaze. He was thinking about her too. About how their father’s desire to erase magic had forced her to live in the woods for years. How she’d fought for everything she had.

  And how she’d looked at them when they left Bela. As if she’d never see them again, and yet, she’d been cold.

  Not the Etta either of them knew.

  She’d been Persinette Basile. Nothing more.

  “This place is freaking me out,” Ara grumbled. “Aren’t these woods haunted?”

  The corner of Alex’s lips curled up. Viktor Basile’s wards had hidden the magic folk among the trees for years, but they were occasionally heard. Alex scanned the woods for any sign of them, but he suspected they’d bolted for Bela at the first chance.

  “Yeah,” he said, his smiled falling. “It’s haunted.” Because, for him, it was.

  It took two days, but they followed the path all the way to the far end of the forest where it met the sea. Large trunks stuck up through the swirling waters.

  “We aren’t going in there,” Tyson assured them, turning his horse.

  A few hours later, he led them out into a cove. The palace walls rose before them, more imposing from the outside.

  Every time Alex saw the high structure, he doubted he’d be able to get inside.

  Tyson was different. His mind constantly ran over every possibility, finding optimism in each. Alex envied that.

  Tyson scrambled off his horse, his tired legs almost collapsing beneath him. He stumbled and righted himself before heading for the wall and spreading his arms against it. “Oh, sweet palace. It sure is good to see you.”

  Ara laughed as she slid down, landing in a puddle. Sand stretched out to each side of them, hard from the constant pounding of the waves. The tide was out, but the waterline almost reached the walls.

  The cove was a tiny inlet, too small to notice along the coastline. Dark water stretched along the horizon. Alex turned toward the castle and followed his brother down the sharp decline that led into the narrow tunnels underneath the walls.

  They came to a dead end at a wall of slate. Tyson ran his hands along every rock, losing showers of dirt.

  “A little help,” Tyson called.

  Hendry and the other guards stayed back, but Alex and Ara ran forward to follow Tyson’s motions.

  After a while, defeat slowed Alex’s movements, and he stepped back, his head hanging low. It wasn’t there. He released a long breath and almost didn’t hear Ara’s gasp.

  Tyson grabbed his arm and pulled him over as Ara wiggled a loose rock free. “It’s here,” she said.

  The messenger’s hole was small, not large enough to stick an entire hand in.

  Alex pulled out the letter he’d written and slipped it through. “Where will that end up?”

  “There’s an unused chapel on the other side.” Tyson shoved the rock back in the hole.

  “You mean to tell me that we just did all of this to get a letter into a room where no one will ever find it?” He huffed and hurried back through the tunnels.

  Once outside, he sucked in the fresh air and put his hands on his head.

  “Alex, listen to me.”

  Alex turned to his brother. “We’re on the edge of war and I am a king who just left his army to ride for days to deliver a message to no one. Forgive me if I lose my mind right now.”

  “It isn’t no one. It’s Amalie.”

  “What?”

  Tyson pushed out a long breath. “Amalie and I spent a lot of time in that chapel. It’s… ugh, it’s going to sound stupid and childish to you, but that was our place. I’m kind of hoping she’s still going there. No, not hoping, I know she is.”

  Alex’s anger deflated. “She told me you guys were close, but I…”

  “Hadn’t noticed?” Tyson shook his head. “Of course you wouldn’t. You were lost in your own world with your art and Edmund and then Etta. But I had Amalie. Even though I knew one day you’d take her from me. That she was always meant to marry you. For a little while, I had her. She’s my best friend.” He smirked. “She’s my Edmund.”

  Alex draped an arm around Tyson’s shoulders, knowing Amalie was much more than just a friend to Tyson. She’d told him so herself after Tyson escaped Gaule with Edmund.

  “I guess we should settle in for a wait.” Ara started giving orders to the guards as if it was what she was born to do. Alex saw a bit of what her father must have seen when he named her general. Hendry watched his sister with amusement on his face.

  Before long, they’d set up camp past the water line, hoping that by morning, they’d know if it was all for nothing.

  Alex leaned back against his bedroll next to Tyson. “Is it weird to be back?”

  Tyson refused to look at him. “When I left, my entire life was falling apart. So much has happened since then. I don’t feel like the same boy who ran in the middle of the night.”

  “Did you really think I’d let anything happen to you if your magic was found out?”

  A beat of silence passed between them and Tyson lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t know what to think. You’d imprisoned Edmund. And you did come after us when we escaped.”

  “I charged Etta with breaking Edmund free. I wanted him safe. When I learned Etta had been lying to me the entire time about her true identity, something inside me broke. I couldn’t think of anything but getting answers from her. Finding out if any of it was…”

  “Real? How’s that working for you?” When Alex didn’t respond, Tyson spoke again. “What about now? Do you think it was real?”

  “I don’t know, Ty. I really don’t. I hope so.” Alex slouched down and closed his eyes, ending the conversation before his brother could ask more questions he wasn’t ready to answer. More questions he didn’t have time for. He had to do what was best for Gaule.

  It no longer mattered if any of it was real.

  Shadows moved among the trees, dancing against the darkness, and Alex’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t move as footsteps surrounded them.

  It felt as if the leaves themselves were muffling all sounds. Magic. It had to be.

  Beside him, Tyson stirred. He gripped his brother’s arm to keep him still. Had Leroy’s men found them?

  Before he got any answer
s, a blaze of light spread through the woods, shooting up toward the sky, blinding any who looked too closely. Alex shielded his eyes, the movement catching the attention of the man holding the light in the palm of his hand. It dimmed, and he directed it right toward their prone forms.

  No one spoke as Alex’s face was bathed in light and he held his breath as his hand slid under his bedroll to grip the knife he kept there. His sword was out of reach.

  Silence stretched as they waited for someone to make the first move. Uncertainty hung in the air. Ara bristled, looking ready to pounce. Hendry had somehow retrieved his sword. Their guards were on full alert.

  Until a man pushed past the beam of light and Alex recognized him immediately.

  Simon dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Your Majesty,” he breathed. “Thank the heavens.”

  Alex relaxed and dropped the knife. “It’s good to see you, Si.”

  He hadn’t known Simon for long. The man had been in his guard but Alex never took notice of him until Si took it upon himself to try to fix Alex’s dreadful sword technique. After that, Simon had been his man, with him every step of the way. When Etta could no longer be protector, he’d stepped in.

  And Alex had never been more grateful for anything.

  Except for maybe the fact they found them instead of the traitor noble’s forces.

  Simon stood and extended a hand down to Alex. The king grasped it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Simon’s eyes found Tyson. “Your mother is going to be so happy at your presence, young prince, she may even forget about the enemy at our door.” One side of his mouth lifted. “For a minute at least.” He turned back to the man playing with the light in his hands. “Put that out, man. Do you want everyone to know we’re out of the palace?” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Please, sire, tell me you’re here because you have a way to beat those bastards back.”

  “Let’s get into the palace and we’ll discuss it.”

  Simon gave a silent command to the people who surrounded them still. They weren’t guards. Alex had been told his mother was protecting some of the villagers in the inner palace. Were they magic folk?

  They trudged from the woods and into the long tunnel. It was the middle of the night and exhaustion tugged at all of them, but Alex shook it from his mind and pushed on. The musty air rattled in his chest and he rubbed a hand across his eyes. The man with the ability to create light guided them. The tunnels seemed longer in the dark of night.

  “Did you get the letter we sent through the messenger’s hole?” Alex asked Simon.

  “Amalie found it.” The large man scratched his chin. “We send a man out on patrol every night to make sure this way out of the palace stays clear and when we found the note, we moved up the patrol schedule.”

  “If you knew it was clear, why haven’t you abandoned the palace?”

  Simon scratched his strong jaw. “We have a lot of people to protect. We wouldn’t have been able to get them to safety without notice.”

  They reached the end of the tunnel where a door stood slightly open. Alex hadn’t even noticed it before. When it was closed, it looked like the stone wall surrounding it. They pushed it wider and stepped through into a room that had seen better days.

  Alex ran his fingers along the wall. They may be in a run-down chapel, one he’d never given much thought, but he was home. He’d made it.

  The halls were packed with servants and soldiers but none of them recognized him. His clothes were travel-stained, his hair long and unruly, and days’ worth of growth coated his cheeks. People jumped out of Simon’s way and when they reached the royal family’s wing, all sound faded away. The hall was empty, lonely. He passed by the door to his room, running the tips of his fingers along the wood. Etta’s room was next, but he turned his head away, unable to look.

  Finally, they reached his mother’s door. The guard gazed at them skeptically. “The dowager is sleeping. It’s late.” His eyes rested on Alex’s face as if trying to place him. After a moment, they widened and he bowed clumsily. “Forgive me, your Majesty. I didn’t know it was you.”

  Alex patted him on the arm as he knocked on his mother’s door. Tyson bounced on his toes beside him, but the rest of the party was still.

  The door opened and his mother’s voice drifted out before she saw them. “Simon, is that you? It’s late, so the report is going to…”

  She stopped, her mouth dropping open, frozen in shock. Her eyes glassed over and Tyson was the first to move. He ran toward her and wrapped his arms around her. A sob escaped her lips as he buried his face in her shoulder.

  Tyson had never been ashamed of his emotions. He wore his heart like a badge of honor.

  “My boys,” she finally said, reaching out toward Alex.

  As he let her pull him into a crushing hug, the events of the past months crashed over him and he held on tighter, afraid his legs would give out if she let go. He’d been taken from his home. Beaten. Held in a tower. Seen so much death. Forced to bring himself low. Then had everything he thought he’d known ripped away with the curse.

  Having his mother with him again was the first thing that felt right in so long.

  “Mother,” Tyson whispered, fighting his own demons.

  “Shhhh.” She patted the back of his head. “I know.”

  When they pulled back, tears streaked down her face. She cupped each of her son’s cheeks. “I didn’t know if I’d see you boys again. There’s been no word while we’re locked up here.”

  Alex glanced from her to Simon. “We think we can do something about that.” He gestured for Ara to step forward. “Meet Ara Caron. She’s brought us troops.”

  Simon looked to the ceiling as if thanking something above. “We must wake your father. Seems we aren’t as hopeless here as we thought.”

  It didn’t take long for Duchess Moreau, Duke Caron, and Camille to appear. The Duke radiated pride when he saw his son and daughter.

  The door to Tyson’s old room that connected to his mother’s opened and a hesitant young lady appeared. “I heard a commotion.”

  At the sound of her voice, Tyson lifted his head slowly, taking a deep breath before turning around.

  Amalie’s face lit up. “Ty? Is that really you?”

  Tyson rushed toward her but stopped short of wrapping her in a hug. They faced each other for a long moment, neither speaking.

  Finally, Tyson smiled. “I used the messenger hole. I was sure you’d find the letter and open the doorway. But you didn’t.”

  She shook her head. “I only go there when I have to. It’s been too–”

  She didn’t need to finish.

  “Yeah.” He dropped his eyes to his hands. “It’s been…”

  She reached out tentatively to take his hand. “I just needed to make sure you were really here.”

  Alex turned away from their reunion feeling a burning in his chest.

  “Are you okay, brother?” Camille stepped up beside him.

  Alex narrowed his eyes. He’d never seen eye to eye with his sister. In his mind, he could still see her and Leroy trying to hang magic folk.

  The Durands might have been as screwed up as they came, but crisis brought them together. No matter what happened in the past, they’d fight together to preserve their legacy, their kingdom. He understood that about Camille. She might still have an issue with magic folk, but when her family was being threatened, that didn’t matter.

  She leaned heavily on her cane and waited for him to answer. He shook himself. “Of course I am. I’m finally home.”

  She looked as if she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press him further because their mother leaned forward, ready to begin.

  “Alexandre,” she started. “Take a seat and tell us everything.”

  For just a moment, he thought she was talking about his abduction, about Etta. But that would be for another time. Right now, there were more pressing matters.

  “Anders has our forces camped on
the other side of the village. He has the unit of royal guardsmen under his command, the Moreau soldiers, and now the Caron units as well.”

  “Is it enough?” his mother asked.

  “We are still outnumbered.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

  Duchess Moreau scratched her chin. “If you pulled my forces into the fight, who is guarding the border?”

  Tyson jumped in to answer. “We’ve seen La Dame.” A gasp ran around the room. “If she comes for Gaule, no amount of soldiers at the border will stop her.”

  “What about Bela? Magic folk are flocking there. Should we not worry they’ll come for some kind of retribution?” Camille asked.

  Tyson shook his head. “No. The queen made us a promise.”

  “Queen?” Their mother said at the same time as Camille said, “Bela has no queen.”

  Tyson rose to his full height as if that would keep anyone from disputing his next words. “My sister is the queen.”

  A tiny whimper sounded from Catrine’s throat as the realization struck her. Her pleading eyes met Alex’s with a question in them. Alex nodded. His brother knew his true parentage. He was more Basile than Durand.

  Duchess Moreau didn’t look surprised, but the rest of them waited for answers.

  Alex rubbed a hand across his face. Where did he start? “Persinette Basile has been crowned queen of Bela.”

  His mother rested a hand on his shoulder. “How?” Alex knew what she was really asking. Where was Etta, and how were they separated while the curse tied them together?

  Alex rose to his feet. “It’s gone.” He didn’t look at her as he strode to the door. “All of it.”

  Behind him, his mother dismissed everyone back to their beds, saying they’d pick up the strategy meeting the next morning when they were all more rested.

  They filtered out past Alex. Even Tyson disappeared with Amalie leaving Alex alone with his mother.

  Alex shook his head as her hand landed on his back. “What did they do to you, son?”

  He swallowed back the words he wanted to say. They destroyed him. Opened him up and scooped out everything that mattered. Emptied him. Broke him. He stilled his shaking jaw and gripped the handle of the door, pulling it open.