Chapter 4

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Chapter 4


Staring down at the parchment in his hand, Crown Prince Jai of Dalcaine read and reread the words that were scrawled across it. 


She sailed.  He has gone along as well.  Are you ready to face what you did to them? 


Most of the time, Jai wished he had never met the spy who had hidden themselves deep into Escarrali society.  Especially when he received messages like the one he had clenched in his hand then.

Mother above, he knew it was past time for it to happen, but he still wasn't prepared for the message to come. 

She...meaning the youngest Escarrali princess, Alyvia. 

And he...meaning one of his best and oldest friends, Gideon. 

No, Gideon had renounced that title after he came storming into the council chamber and immediately threw a punch to his face.  Jai took it, though.  He knew he more than deserved it. 

He hadn't seen either of them since the day Queen Guinevere laid siege on her own city and took over the throne of Escarral.  It looked like that was about to change.  Hell, maybe they would put on glamours that wouldn't give their true identities away, which he hoped was the case.

Crumpling the small piece of parchment in his fist, Jai leaned his forehead against it as he sat on the bottom step leading into the council chamber. 

It was the first time he'd been in the room since the fight with Gideon and his self-declared exile.  Ever since, Jai had hardly been in the city of Ayveri, the ruling kingdom of Dalcaine.  His brother, Destan, had taken over as the acting heir who sat in on meetings, sitting in Jai's chair next to his father's, the largest and most ornate of the fifteen that surrounded the circular table.

At first, it was of Jai's own choosing.  He needed to get rid of the reminders of what he'd done, to get away from the looks he received from not only the people who had heard of what happened in Escarral, but the disappointment of his parents'.  When he came back, however, that was when his father started sending him out on patrols with Camilla and Soren, his general and lieutenant general.  He was fine.  That's what he told himself at least.  He needed something to keep his mind off of failing them all. 

Now, the two weeks he'd been in Ayveri was the longest stretch at home in over a year.  He was tired of the travel, the sleeping on uncomfortable cots in canvas tents.  All he wanted to do was stay put for a little while, sleep in a real bed, spend time with the family who didn't look at him like he'd royally screwed up what could have been a peace treaty that could have changed the Fae and human lands. 

And now with the princess and her oath-sworn warrior heading to Dalcaine...

He needed a drink.  Desperately.

Standing, he shoved the message into the small, inside pocket of his vest and pushed up his sleeves to his forearms as the heat began to rise with the sun.  He walked through the hallways and open-air corridors of the palace, nodding to every one of the staff he passed.  The females gave him flirty smiles, hoping to be the one the crown prince brought to his rooms for the night.  None of them knew he hadn't given out that kind of invite since he'd been home.

The head of the palace grounds was working with her four assistants in the inner courtyard garden, pruning and shearing, working their magic and making sure every blossom, vine, shrub, and tree was perfect.  It was a regular thing to witness this time of year, especially during the summer festival.  The celebratory party for the summer solstice was days before, but the work never stopped in the gardens.

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