Jamie
Two weeks had passed since the invitations for the upcoming ball were delivered. All of them had been accepted. Every member of the five royal families was coming, at least the ones who were remotely alive. Ayvon Feltain was the only royal who couldn't make it. As far as Jamie knew, the poor man could barely move out of bed. His two sons, Keiran and Killian Feltain, would represent Merrisan instead.
The ball was taking place in seven days. Preparations were already being made all around the palace and the gardens. Young women and men swarmed through the halls—not servants; they were all a part of the court and apparently held high ranks within the kingdom, though that didn't make such a difference in Maldevìe. Everyone helped with decorations, stocking the kitchen, or cleaning the quarters for the guests.
The families were meant to arrive in five days. That gave them enough time to ensure their success. Everyone knew their role and assignment. The only thing that greatly unnerved Jamie was the fact that Tyros couldn't possibly be stupid enough to arrive without suspecting something. He had to have a plan as well, or, at least, an insurance that would keep Grace by his side. Whatever it was, Jamie hoped they were prepared enough.
While their plan was still in the making, he wondered about Ciden, despite trying to avoid those thoughts. Could he still be alive? If so, would Dyon bring him to the ball, or would he not dare take his likely mutilated brother to a ball of peace? Should he actually come, no part of the plan involved a rescue mission for the young Ammadon prince...
He hoped he wouldn't be there. Jamie had gotten too attached too quickly, which probably wasn't as unexpected given his overall lack of friends. He wasn't sure if he could leave him in the claws of his brother when he would have been able to help him.
Aderah had done her best to keep him hopeful about Grace. She had barely left his side, not even during the sleepless nights he had spent sitting at a desk, staring at papers containing every detail. He wasn't like Grace—nearly every plan, or idea he'd ever had had failed. She was the one who was exceptional at scheming and fulfilling her visions. It could all come crashing down so quickly was he to be left in charge of a situation...
Sighing, he rested his heavy head in his hands. The light of a dying candle flickered to his right, seconds away from burning up. Just like many other nights in the last few weeks, papers lay scattered before him. A map of the palace, secret passages, drawings of what the ballroom was going to look like, sketches of every person who would be attending, detailed descriptions of every niche of the plan. The only things he had looked at since they had discussed their situation. He knew every single thing that was said during the meetings, every word of the notes at his hands, every person who would be there. He couldn't be better prepared.
By the time Grace got there, it would have been six weeks in the claws of her father. He didn't even want to imagine what he had done to her during this time. No matter how strong she always appeared, there was one person who could shatter her entire being, and he was afraid six weeks might have been enough time to achieve that. He feared she had lost her fight, the armor she had developed after she'd escaped the first time.
The image of her sitting in a barn alone, a blade pressed against the pale skin of her forearm, pushed its way into his mind. Had he not come hours before they were supposed to meet, he would have been reunited with her dead body. She had been so close to giving up. It had taken him ten sleepless days to help her recover from the torture until he'd been sure she wouldn't harm herself. Ten days of holding her while she'd sobbed, woken up, shaking, in the middle of the night, or barely been responsive. Seeing her like that again was his biggest fear.
The sound of a tear hitting the parchment brought him out of that memory. If he believed in the Gods that so many people prayed to, he would too, but since it hadn't saved his parents, it wouldn't help her either. Her fate rested in their hands.
A soft touch on his shoulder nearly caused his heart to give out. He turned his head to find Aderah standing behind him.
"How are you?" she asked, clearly concerned about him.
He tried to force a smile on his face, but doubted it convinced her. "As good as I can be, I guess."
"You should sleep. There's nothing you can do for her right now. You won't be able to help her if you don't rest until then."
She was right; he knew that, but sleeping just felt wrong, knowing that Grace was probably not granted a moment of peace.
"I can't," he breathed out, and rested his head back on his hands.
She sighed heavily before turning his chair away from the desk, which obviously took her a lot of effort. He didn't even care what she was trying to do as he tried his best to stay awake. Aderah seemed to realize that as well and abruptly pulled him forward. Jamie almost fell on his face and was just barely able to catch himself in time. Not seeming to mind that, the healer promptly dragged him over to his bed and pushed him on the mattress. Before he could protest, his warm and welcome blanket was thrown over him.
"You will sleep now," she ordered, and pulled the curtains closed. "You know you won't be doing her a favor if you're this exhausted at the ball."
He knew how true her words were when he didn't even argue back. She was nice enough not to comment on it, though.
"Good night," she only said, leaving him alone.
Without any distractions or papers to study, his heavy eyelids fell shut, and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He strongly believed he had never slept this terribly in his entire life of being homeless. Not sleeping at all would have done more for his state. When the overly concerned healer softly opened the door and saw him awake, though, he tried his best to seem rested. If she saw through him, she didn't mention it.
"Four more days," she reminded him. "Then it will be over."
Or at least that was what they all hoped for. But who could assure them that nothing would go wrong? No one even dared to speak of the 'what ifs'. Everyone just doubted it all silently.
During the next two days of preparations, Aderah and even Tanner have attempted to calm him down. Apparently, he was working himself to death. Well, maybe they weren't entirely wrong, but he couldn't rest until every member of the court had their assignment drilled into their brain. Every person on the guest list had been studied intensely enough that Jamie had the knowledge to destroy several relationships on that ball. If he didn't have other priorities, he might have considered doing so, but none of that mattered to him.
Since he had paid special attention to the royals who would attend, he also knew everything there was to know about the man their entire plan relied on: Keiran Feltain. Should he not participate, it would all come crumbling down around them. Without him, they would never even get close enough to Grace, not even the Darsays, at least not for long.
It was to be expected that the Emerans would be escorted by at least a dozen guards. Tyros handpicked every single one of them—mostly Seynins. Despite it being an event to honor peace between the kingdoms, it wouldn't be unusual for some to arrive guarded. Many massacres have taken place at events such as the ball.
Keiran had been sent an invitation for two days earlier. He hadn't answered, so they assumed he was arriving that night. Grace's confidence in Keiran was the only reason Jamie had pushed through with everything. From what he'd read about the prince, he couldn't understand where her confidence came from. He seemed like trouble.
Nightfall had come, and there was still no word from Keiran. At the first signs of dusk, Jamie, Aderah, Kaden, and Tanner had joined Marcella in the conference room, waiting for his arrival. An hour had passed since then.
"What will we do if he doesn't come at all?" Aderah questioned.
Marcella, who had been the very image of calmness the entire week, answered softly, "He will. It is not only an event he is expected to attend, but he also owes it to his father. As the heir to the throne, he has the responsibility to make an appearance."
Aderah still didn't seem convinced but clearly hesitated to second-guess the queen.
To Jamie, her patience was almost annoying. They didn't have much time, and pretending they did wasn't helping.
After another ten minutes, he got tired of waiting for that man and got up. Aderah and Tanner looked at him like they expected him to give them new instructions. The position of a leader was still new to him, and he strongly disliked it. Why did everyone expect him to know what to do when he himself had no clue?
"I'll try to sleep. Even that would be more useful than sitting around and waiting for that arrogant moron to show up. What makes him think we have nothing better to do with our very limited time? Grace had told me he owed her, which was the only reason she was so sure to rely on him. If he were honorable and trustworthy, he would be here by now," he ranted.
Normally, he wouldn't get so worked up over this, but the stress, lack of sleep, and their entire situation have put him on the verge of insanity.
"You don't have anything better to do with your time, because you need me," a low voice suddenly grumbled behind him. "Before my arrival, all you could do was pray for me to assure you of my willingness to offer my help. Therefore, sit back down, boy, and tell me what you need from me. I might not be honorable, but trust that I don't want to owe anyone any favors for longer than necessary."
Jamie turned around and took in the large man, who must have entered during his comment about him. He may not have been impressed by his words, but definitely by his height. Keiran was well over six feet tall, every inch of him clad in expensive-looking leathers and whatever other fancy fabrics they made in Merrisan. He had dark hair that hung in his eyes and scraped his neck. Unfortunately, Jamie must admit that he understood why Aderah's chin had dropped the second her gaze had shifted to him. He was definitely worth looking at. Until he talked, that was.
Jamie was not in the mood for an argument, though, and did as ordered. He returned to his previous seat next to the healer and waited for the prince to join the table.
Keiran nodded towards Aderah, Tanner, and Kaden before taking a seat next to Marcella, whom he actually offered a smile. She welcomed him and motioned for Jamie to start.
"When was the last time you saw Grace?" he asked the prince.
"If you invited me here to execute me for murder, I'll have to disappoint you," he answered.
Did he seriously not notice that Jamie was very clearly not in the mood for such jokes?
"Just tell me what your last conversation was about."
Keiran leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "She asked me if I had any interest in her father's death. Tyros might be a decent king for his subjects, but as a ruler I would have to deal with multiple times a year, he is most definitely not of interest to me," he explained. "I told her I would not get involved in the assassination, but I wouldn't stop it either. I knew of her plan to poison him, but she wanted security. The girl talked my ears off about how much I would profit from his death, so I might as well agree to help her out in case she failed. That was two years ago. And since you had me arrive her two days early, I'm assuming she did...?"
Jamie nodded. He had almost expected the prince to take delight in that fact, but he only lifted his eyebrows, signaling Jamie to fill him in.
"Grace was convinced you would help her if necessary because you apparently owe it to her. What has she done for you that she'd be so sure?" He had to know how far he could trust the stranger, who had not made the best impression on him so far.
"That is between me and her. Don't let it concern you."
Keiran's tone left little room for another question regarding his debt to her, so Jamie chose to move on. "Fine. Then I'll just ask: Can we actually trust you with her life?"
Deep down, he already knew they could. If Grace trusted him to this extent, and she trusted only a handful of people, who were all seated at that table, she must have good reasons to do so.
"Yes," the man confirmed. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here, letting you question me."
Somewhat satisfied with his answer, Jamie decided to come straight to the point. "Tyros wants you as an ally for some reason. Did he ever attempt to make peace between your families?"
"No. Even if he had, my family would decline any offer coming from him. We don't trust the Emerans."
"Did you ever speak to him before?"
"No." Keiran was clearly getting tired of his questions, but his answers were vital information.
"So he would have no reason to doubt a sudden interest in an alliance?"
After a dark, unhappy look, the prince shook his head.
"Good. Then listen."
Jamie continued to explain everything Grace had shared with Marcella and him, telling him his role, what he should say, where he would stand, and what he needed to be prepared for. The prince didn't exactly look too happy to be included in this, but never disrupted him. Once Jamie was done, he only said, "Fine." He seemed to have understood what he would have to do.
"If this is all, please excuse me," he said then, and promptly left.
Jamie blew out a long breath. "Isn't he a ray of sunshine..."
Marcella looked at him apologetically. "He may not come across as a warm person, but I assure you, he is a good man. His life has put a lot on him, especially in his young years, so please understand."
As if everyone else's childhood had been a sunny dream. Jamie's past had changed his life drastically as well, still he didn't run around making other people miserable.
"We won't have to get along; he only has to stick to his promise."
"He will," she assured him.