“Everything seemed fine for a while. She was a good, dutiful wife. King Dominic thought she was loyal, but he didn’t realize that she was communicating secretly with Prince Philip. That bastard was coaxing and coercing her into betraying him. It wasn’t long after the birth of their son, Xavier, that the old Branem king died. Prince Philip became King Philip. There was no one in Branem who could stop him from marrying whom he wanted now.”
“Damn,” Hugo whispered. He reached out and plucked a leaf off a branch. This was a mess. Worthy of some of those romance novels Dorian swore heneverread, but Hugo knew he’d sneak them late at night by candlelight.
“Before Xavier turned two, his mother abandoned him. She left him and never fucking looked back.Left. Him.She left her son and the husband she swore she would be loyal to for King Philip.”
Hugo cringed at the force of the hatred and rage that vibrated in Victor’s rough voice. He could feel the years of anger and pain that filled this man, not only for himself but for the father who’d lost his mother at such a young age.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“Stop!” Victor roared. “My family doesn’t need your pity or your begging for forgiveness on behalf of those scoundrels.”
Hugo dropped the leaf he’d been moving between his fingers and turned to face Victor. The king’s cheeks were flushed, andhis dark eyes were wide as his entire body seemed to tremble with suppressed emotions. “It’s not pity I feel, but heartbreak. I’m heartbroken for your father and for you, denied a mother and grandmother’s love. I’m also heartbroken for Philip and Victoria. How much must they have loved each other to take such a horrible risk? People suffered on all sides, and bad decisions were made.”
They stood frozen. A chilly wind rushed through the garden, rattling branches and stirring the leaves. Hugo could imagine he heard the moans of three anguished ghosts from the past crying for the choices they made.
“I don’t want your heartbreak. I want Branem to suffer. They need to feel the pain my father lived with for a lifetime.”
Hugo swallowed against the sudden dryness of his mouth. He didn’t know what to say. How to fix this. The one person who stood a shot at healing this old wound was the old Dowager Queen Victoria, but she’d passed away about a year ago.
Victor didn’t give him a chance to speak. He stepped away from Hugo and called for the guards. “Take him to his room. Lock him in.”
Guards descended on Hugo from the shadows, crowding close on all sides, not giving him a chance to follow Victor as he walked deeper into the garden.
“Wait! Send me to the dungeon! Put me in the dungeon again!” Panic rose with every word he spoke. If he didn’t go to the dungeon, how would Everand know that he was safe? How would Hugo know Victor hadn’t ordered the guards to torture the prince?
But no one listened to him. The king continued to walk away, disappearing into the garden while the guards dragged him into the castle.
Twenty-Six
Hugo remained locked in his beautiful room for two full days. Food was delivered, but all his requests to speak to King Victor or visit Prince Everand were ignored. Even Pepper, who delivered fresh clothes and food, was forbidden to talk to him.
It was only when Captain Ryze appeared at his door on the third day that Hugo felt even a glimmer of hope. Of course, that glimmer died as he took a good look at Captain Ryze’s weary expression, pale skin, and dark circles underlining his eyes. The man looked worn to the bone and ready to drop.
“How bad is it?” Hugo asked, his heart edging toward his throat.
“Bad enough that if you have any tricks up your sleeve to put him in a good mood, I’d pull them out, because it might just save your skin and Prince Everand’s. Now, come with me.”
Hugo didn’t hesitate but fell into step with the captain while several guards followed them down the hallway at a discreet distance. Hugo ran a hand through his hair and another along the front of his suit, making sure he was presentable. There were a couple of books in his room, and he’d tried reading them, buthe couldn’t keep his mind on the stories. It kept wandering to the tale he’d heard from Everand and Victor. How was he supposed to help either country? All the people who were involved in the mess were long dead. Should Everand have to beg forgiveness for things that had happened years prior to his birth? Was it fair for Hugo to demand that Victor move on and let the past go?
The icy beauty and elegance of the castle were a blur as they hurried through corridors. Hugo’s mind ran in circles as he struggled to come up with a solution, a fix that would heal Victor’s fractured heart and save the lives of Branem and Wulian soldiers. But nothing was coming to him.
They arrived at the now-familiar double doors that led into the king’s meeting room. Captain Ryze entered with Hugo while the guards following them remained in the hallway. The king stood behind his desk with his hands behind his back. He also looked pale and grim, as if he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Your Majesty,” Hugo greeted. He stopped in the center of the room and bowed deeply to the king, but Victor said nothing to him. Hugo straightened and licked his lips, not sure what to do or say next. Captain Ryze had said nothing about why he’d been summoned. Hugo had just been so relieved to be free of his room that he hadn’t pushed for answers.
Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. The double doors to the study opened, and Hugo glanced over his shoulder to see who was joining them. His heart stopped and started in the blink of an eye as Prince Everand walked in, his wrists bound with heavy iron shackles.
Hugo rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around Everand, pulling him into a tight embrace as tears stung his eyes. He’d lost track of how many days had passed since he’d last seen him, last held him tightly.
“Thank the gods, my treasure,” Everand groaned as he pressed his face into Hugo’s shoulder. His bound hands remained trapped between their bodies. “I was so worried.”
Hugo pulled away and crushed their lips together in a painful kiss, needing to reassure himself that his Everand was okay. The soft mouth he’d memorized from hundreds of sweet kisses was now dry and cracked.
Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and pulled away to scrutinize his prince. He was still dressed in the same black suit he’d been wearing the night of the ball, but it was now filthy and showed signs of wear. His skin didn’t look nearly as dirty as he might have expected, so the king must have provided him with some water to wash in. The clothes didn’t hang on him, and he didn’t feel as if he’d lost significant weight since they’d last seen each other.
“My treasure,” Everand cooed. The chains jangled as he lifted his hands to wipe away a tear that had escaped and was streaking down Hugo’s cheek. “I’m okay. No one has harmed me.”
“But the dungeon…” Hugo mumbled, his voice on the verge of cracking. All the strength Hugo had cobbled together on this adventure felt like it was crumbling now that he faced Everand.
