He knew what needed to be done, regardless of the position it put him in. He would be labeled a deserter the moment he left and didn’t return to report to his Battalion Commander. None of that mattered right now though, but she did. Gods forgive him but shematteredto him. As they neared Lasair, Alex once again fell silent, unconsciousness claiming her, the pain too great to tolerate any longer.
Fear speared through Davin, dread weighing heavily in his gut as he glanced back over his shoulder at Alex. She looked so unbelievably frail, no color gracing her cheeks, her dark eyelashes stark against her pale skin. Cracking the reins, Davin pushed the horse to move faster. He had to make it. She would not die today.
They arrived at the port just before the Morrows Med Ship, more commonly known as the M.M.S. Maura, pulled away from the gangway. A second med ship was docked justbeyond it, but would be of no use to him. Davin looked around frantically. Where was the man? He’d never let anyone else captain his ship.
A short, burly man with a full-length beard popped his head from around the stern of the ship. “McConnell.” Davin called to him. The man sauntered down the gangway and Davin beckoned him over, attempting in vain to avoid notice from the shiphands readying to push off.
“Monroe! Long time son. How are…” His voice trailed off as he drew closer, peering into the cart. “Who?” he managed to ask, concern in his voice.
“Never mind who. I’m calling in my favor.” McConnell’s eyes narrowed in response, but he didn't question again.
“Davin, ye know ye have it. My child wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t fer ya.”
“There is no time to explain, McConnell. I…we… need on that ship. Now. And I need a healer, the best you’ve got.” McConnell simply nodded once and signaled him to follow. No one would question the Captain of the ship adding passengers, nor would they ask for payment for boarding. McConnell had the final word, and anyone who dared to argue with the man would end up standing on the shore without even an oar to paddle with.
Davin hefted a motionless Alex from the cart, a sheen of sweat soaking her entire body, strands of loose hair sticking to her face. McConnell hesitated before saying, “Davin. A name, son. I need a name fer the manifest.”
He took a long moment staring into Alex’s face.I don’t even know your last name.Without looking up at McConnell, he simply said, “Put it on the manifest as Davin and Alex Monroe.” McConnell paused, shock written on his face, before continuing up the gangway.
Davin continued moving past him without another word. If the man thought it was inappropriate, then he could piss off. She just needed to live, damn it, and he didn’t care how that was accomplished.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Fools And Assumptions
Vivian
The doors to the throne room flew open, banging into the walls on either side. The guards lining the room sprang into action, quick to defend their queen. Luther had moved faster than her guards, his sword at the ready, placing himself between the intruders and her, only to lower it a moment later, when he realized that it was just her sons, returned from their mission.
“Stand down!” He barked at the guards, who immediately obeyed, falling back into their original positions. The two men striding towards them were disheveled, dirty, and downright pungent. Luther stepped aside.
Queen Vivian sat on her throne a few feet behind him, where she had been entertaining the tedious complaints of her citizens. The man who had been kneeling before her, droning on and on about his lack of food or issue of some sort, had beenpulled away the moment the doors banged open. As if she would have helped him, or any of them, for that matter, anyway.
Yes, citizens had their place but their significance had no bearing if they didn’t serve her purpose. She wasn’t responsible for their inability to provide for themselves. The fools thought it was somehow her fault! Ridiculous, but appearances must be upheld. She only held audiences with her citizens because it was required of her in order to uphold the Peace Treaty. So she sat, each week, listening to them prattle on about their trivial issues, a fake smile plastered on her face, a task that was getting harder to accomplish with each passing day.
She was still fuming over having to relinquish her hold of Varon back to that simpering, bleeding heart Sophiana. The Tribunal had been a complete farce. Even though Vivian had seized control of Varon and was rightfully in charge of all council members, guards and soldiers, the damned fools had pushed back on every front. Vivian had brought with her enough of her own support that she believed it wouldn’t be an issue. She would not underestimate Varon’s loyalty to Sophiana and Rivka again.
Varon’s Ship Master, Bastian Ronan, had been the pivotal failing point for the Tribunal. He had sent out multiple ships to “investigate”, in search of evidence of defection. He had come up empty handed even though Vivian knew she’d planted evidence that should have been discovered. She had only ruled for a short time, but it had proven that this was her destiny, to be queen of the realm of Diathan, to rule with the ultimate power, and she would be damned if anyone got in her way again.
“Luther, I am tired and wish to be finished with the day. Please see that the citizens are all removed from the palace.” Her tone dripped in disdain as she stood, her skirts swishing.
Dismissing the remaining citizens with a flick of her wrist, she turned her full attention to the two men walking towards her. Shame flared in her cheeks. They knew how she felt about filth. They were disgusting, looking more like the beggards that had been at her feet, than the crowned princes that they were. They could have at least cleaned up before barging in here. Surely this meant that they were successful in their mission and Alexandria was dead.
As her boys drew closer, it became evident that the filth she had taken for dirt was in fact darkened dried blood. Their clothes were hanging in shreds where their obvious injuries were, bruises mottling their faces.
The last of the citizens made their exit as Vivian’s anger rose, overtaking the initial shame at their interruption. “There had better be a good reason why you thought it necessary to barge in here in front of my citizens, without a care to your disheveled and pathetic appearance. You’re dripping blood on my pristine floor for Kiel’s sake!” Vivian’s lowered voice was full of menacing venom.
Both men came to a stop at her feet before kneeling down, bowing their heads, showing her the proper respect, before murmuring “Good day, Mother” in perfect unison.
“Get up.”
Erik helped Jackson to his feet before they gazed up at their mother. Her disappointment in them evident on her face. By now, the entire room had emptied except for the four of them, Luther having returned to stand next to his queen’s side.
“We have returned from our mission triumphant,” Erik said, a tentative smile spread across his face, as if he were waiting for her to praise him for his good deed.
Luther chuckled, the sound low and throaty. The smile slowly drained from Erik’s face. Vivian’s anger crackled like a storm cloud as she looked down upon them, her lips pullingback in a snarl. “Here is not the place to be discussing such private matters. You will go clean yourselves up and see a healer. Report back to me over dinner in my private chambers. For now, not a word to anyone.”
Both men nodded their heads in acknowledgement.
