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He nods his head. Sam and Bastion shake his hand. They laugh with my dad about the hunting trip they will be planning as we stroll down the hallway.
Dad pats me on the back, and is about to say something, when one of the scullery maids comes out. She gives us a nervous look, “Sir, the kitchen is having an issue. Thomas sent me for you.”
My father sighs, “I miss your mother more and more every day. Running this house just isn’t the same without her.” He slaps Bastion on the back, “Goodnight, take care of my girl.” His eyes threaten me, but I walk out the front door and climb into the carriage with the help of the footman. Having a member of the royal family with me is my only saving grace.
When they close the door to the carriage, we wait a second for the front door to close. I jump out the far side of the carriage, away from the eyes of the front door. The footman gives us a look. Bastion nods, “Bring the carriage to the castle. Stop for no one. Not my father and not my brother, and definitely not her father.”
He nods. We run to the stable as the carriage takes off. We mount quickly, like smugglers in the dark, and ride off into the woods. The path from the estate to the castle is short. The ride is straight across the field and then up the hill to the back of the grounds.
Sam grips to me fiercely, and I continue to motivate the horse. Bastion rides hard, slapping his horse on the behind and shouting at it. When we are halfway across the dark field, I feel something. I look to the right and there in the misty darkness is a cloaked woman. She has a pale cloak on with the hood up. It hides her face. She watches me ride by—I know it’s her. I know it’s the woman who is sneaking to my father’s bed.
I look ahead, hating him. How can he do it? How did he send her away pregnant, and then leave us there to suffer? My mother hanged herself. She died, tying a knot and wrapping it around her throat. She died alone in that shack of a destroyed mansion, gasping for air and struggling against the coarse rope around her throat. She died, leaving behind a baby and a small child. She died knowing Rosie and me would be with Mary, a woman who hated us.
To me, my father killed her, and all I seem to want for is the chance to pay him back.
Chapter Thirteen
The light of the castle against the mountains is amazing, but the light of it when you get to the courtyard is ridiculous. Turrets and columns and balconies and smooth stone walls. It is beautiful. The white stone is beautiful and when it’s lit, it looks like it glows, like the moon.
Sam’s jaw hasn’t closed since we dismounted. He stares. I close it for him, “You have seen dozens of castles, My Lord Duke. I hear yours is stunning.”
He looks down on me, “Right, but damn. This is crazy.”
I laugh and pull him to Bastion. He grabs my hand and pulls us through the back doors. He knows the way.
We run through long hallways and pass by a room with people gathered in it. Bastion takes my hand in his, pulling me. Sam pulls too, but I let Bastion win. He needs me.
He pulls me into a grand room that I don’t recognize. I barely recall the castle. I didn’t come here often.
The moment we round the corner, I am in awe. His parents are talking to a small cluster of people. I see his mother, the queen, first. Her eyes are like his, grey and beautiful. They find us in the crowd, making her jaw drop and her goblet of red wine tumble to the floor. The look of pain and anguish on her face is startling. I always imagined her more detached and refined than that. But I see her mouth form his name. His father’s eyes dart from the goblet to the man dragging me into the center of the room. His hands grip to me desperately. I know he’s scared he’ll change in front of them, and I am the cure to that.
The king cries out, “My son! My beautiful son!” he rushes to us. They hug him, and kiss him, and smother him in love, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. The grip stings but I let it. If anyone knows what it’s like to grip to something for your survival, it’s me.
From the corridor at the back, I see a head of shiny red hair. She hurries to where we all are. Watching her, I can see she is out of breath and stunned. She is so beautiful, she stands out in the crowd that is gathering around us and swallowing us up. When she looks me in the eyes, I see the frightened blue-green eyes of my sister. When she sees me, her face pinches. She swallows like there is a lump there. She doesn’t look for her husband to be. She looks around like maybe she is looking for an exit. I see her thinking it. I can almost hear the thought of running.
Braden is there instantly, hugging his brother. He weeps and I believe him innocent in the plot against us.
It was my family all along. My kin is guilty of high treason. I look down at the hand holding mine and back up to the eyes of my sister.
I almost pull free of Bastion, but Sam is there suddenly. Baylor’s jaw drops when she sees his clothes. We still haven’t changed him.
Bastion introduces Sam and I as cousins who saved him from his scars and an attack near Norland. Baylor looks stunned. She gives me a look.
In the back of my mind, I’m plotting alongside her. We have to get away. The entire family will fry when he tells them what has happened.
As if he can feel my fear, Bastion squeezes my hand, pulling me to his mother. She shrieks, “You look so much like my dear daughter-in-law to be, Baylor.” She turns, pointing at my sister. “Baylor, my love. Look how much you and she look alike.”
Baylor smiles at me, “The resemblance is uncanny.”
I nod, “I have heard I bear a striking resemblance to your younger sister, Erralynn.”
She nods, “Uncanny.”
I smile, “But my name is Lynette.”
She curtsies, “Lynette, what a beautiful name.”
Bastion looks down on me with a loving smile, “For a beautiful girl.”
I blush. Most if it is fear.
The queen cups my chin, “How can I ever thank you? You saved my boy.”
I look back at Sam, “It was mostly my cousin’s doing. I was just there.”
Bastion chuckles, hugging his still-weeping brother, “She is my everything, Mother.”
His mother and father both look at me. I shake my head, “It was nothing. I swear.”
His father grins, “Humble, that is a trait everyone loves in a queen.”
My jaw drops, “Oh, well. I can’t possibly . . . uhm. Thank you. You have a lovely home.”
The queen laughs and looks at Bastion, “She is perfect.”
I look back at Sam. His eyes narrow. The queen gives him a look, “Surely your kinsmen seek to wed into our family? Combine our kingdoms? I know the king has mentioned it to us many a time. Unfortunately, our hopes have been tied up for some time with another union. But now I dare say we are likely to be free of it and the awkwardness of the disappearance of the poor young girl.”
My stomach is aching when I realize she is talking about my death. The queen must not have known Bastion was in love with me. She seems eager to be rid of me or at least grateful.
Bastion nods, “My thoughts exactly, Mother. Very excellent timing. Samuel here is all about it. He is devoted to his people, like we are. His sister here is a favorite of our cousin.”
The queen frowns, “And King Erik is fine with her coming here?” Her eyes dart to me. I wonder if she is freaking out as badly as I am that me and Baylor are nearly identical?
Sam smiles, but it is Bastion who speaks. “King Erik wouldn’t deprive me anything I want.”
My sister’s eyes avoid Bastion’s and mine. Braden drags her over, “Brother, I dare say we have similar tastes.”
Bastion smiles but there is something beneath it that is not meant to be kind. “I don’t see the resemblance at all.”
His mother laughs, “Then you are blind, my beautiful boy. I cannot believe how mended your face is.” Her eyes are filled with tears and she cannot stop hugging Sam. They don’t even notice his clothing, all but Baylor. She cannot stop staring at Sam and then me.
The king walks to me and looks down on me like he is se
arching my eyes for something. He slaps Bastion on his back, “She and her cousin must stay with us.”
The twinkle in the king’s eye is obvious. I feel my eyes lower against my instinct. I am Lynnie Lake still; I cannot fight her inability to meet other’s eyes and stand up tall. It’s no doubt how my father realized I wasn’t Baylor. We are identical—it’s actually creeping me out. Of course, I am clearly the kinder of the two. Bitch.
Bastion grabs me, kissing the side of my head and then laughing, “She isn’t leaving. She is my betrothed. We fell in love while I was in their care.” He grips me, while looking down on me with pride. I smile back, fighting the urge to throw up and feeling Sam’s eyes burning down on me too. Baylor coughs but Braden launches himself at us, wrapping himself around us both and cheering congratulations.
I can feel my dinner rising in my throat, as I wonder why would he say that?
Why would he lie?
His father and mother make excited noises as they maul us both. I force my eyes to remain open, to stop the tears threatening me. My breath starts to increase as my heart makes attempts at being thrown up with my dinner. I swear, I can feel it beating in my esophagus.
I step back, smiling like I was taught to as a girl. Bastion looks over at me, his grey eyes searching my face. “Are you all right, my love?”
I shake my head, “I feel lightheaded. I have to go freshen myself.”
The queen grabs my hands, “Of course, you must be exhausted from the ride. I get exhausted looking at horses, let alone riding them.” She looks at Baylor, “As you two will be sisters soon, why don’t you acquaint yourselves with one another and show her the way to the powder room or even her quarters?”
Baylor hops at the chance but I step back again. Bastion grabs my hand, “I will show her the way, Mother.” He kisses my hand and turns, pulling me down the corridor. I can hear Sam following us. His footsteps are loud and annoyed—almost a stomp.
On the grand staircase, Bastion nods at the guards who line them, as they all bow and mutter, “Your Grace.”
I recall that he is ’Your Grace’ and not ’My Lord.’ He will be king and that is the difference between grace and lord.
My ten years of royalty brainwashing doesn’t feel like enough. I look back at Sam, wincing at the lack of sparkle in his eyes. He looks pissed.
Not that I blame him, I am too.
When we get into the corridor that leads to the bedrooms, Sam grabs Bastion’s hand, “Hey, dude. What was that?”
“Yeah?” I fold my arms across my chest.
Bastion looks down on Sam’s hand and then speaks through clenched teeth, “That was me saving her. They will not question who she is if I say she is my bride-to-be. If they find out she is Lynnie, commoners will demand we burn her for witchcraft. My family has always loved your family’s magical ways. But it has benefitted them. Scarring the hell out of me and kidnapping me is not going to endear them to my family anymore. Witches will be outlawed. I know how this is going to end. All of them will be burned. It will be the dark ages all over again.”
Sam looks at me and unhands Bastion. He shakes his head, “Let’s go back, Lynnie. We shouldn’t stay here, you’re in danger. At home I can take care of you, and you can be as witchy you want. No one will believe it anyway.”
I nod and look at Bastion, “He’s right. I have to go back. I can’t do this. I don’t know why I thought I could.”
Bastion’s grip tightens, “Just the night—stay the night.”
I open my mouth but Sam answers, “Okay. I’m beat anyway. We can leave in the morning.” Bastion pulls me to a door and opens it, “Sam, you can sleep in here.”
Sam leans against the doorframe, “Where’s her room?”
Bastion points, “That one.” It is the door at the end of the hall.
Sam shakes his head, almost chuckling. “Which room is yours?”
Bastion laughs and points to the same door, “That one.”
I rip my hand from his, “We can’t share a room.”
“Baylor is sleeping in this castle too. I will sleep on the floor like a gentleman.”
I back up towards Sam, “We are cousins; it makes more sense for us to share a room.”
He leans forward, grabbing my hand just as Sam does. “Cousins marry here, Lynnie. It would look like I were being cuckolded before we were even married.” Bastion pulls, jerking me towards him. I let go of Sam. Bastion sighs, “He doesn’t know the secret passages. I can keep you safe if anything happens. Goodnight, Sam.” He pulls me down the hallway to the door. He opens the door with force and drags me inside.
When the door is closed, I press my back against it, “Why did you do it? Why would you tell them I would marry you?”
He frowns, “I saved you. And you will marry me—you always were meant to.”
I had thought that for a second, but now I see he has not. He has instead put me in an awkward position. He doesn’t love me, he told me he cannot. I shake my head, “You never . . . you never saved me. I need to go back to Lakeland. I can go to Boston with Sam and stay safe. I can’t marry you. You already told me you couldn’t when I told you I loved you. I can’t be queen. I’m a witch and not a very good one. I seem to only be able to do very minor things, beyond fixing you.”
He steps to me, putting both his hands on the door next to my face, trapping me against it. He looks down on me, smiling like he did when he was Bastion in Lakeland—a cute and mysterious college boy. He dips his face to mine, pressing his lips on my cheek. “I love you, Lynnie. I always have. I just didn’t want you in danger. Marrying me will save you—trust me.”
I want to believe his words. I want him to love me. I love him. I have since the moment I met him. Whatever that awkward insta-love was, it was real.
He kisses the other side but lingers, breathing softly on my cheek. “I will love you all of my life, I promise.”
I am frozen; part of me knows I have to let him do whatever he wants. He can have me hanged. The other part of me is still that girl who believes kisses kill. Unfortunately, she isn’t the stronger personality anymore.
I love him and I want him to be speaking the truth, regardless of the fact I fear he just needs me now. He needs my kiss to heal his skin. He spoke the truth when he left me in the dirt, alone and cold.
I know what I have to do, so I close my eyes and let his warm lips land on mine. His tongue slips into my mouth and his hands slide down the door to my back. He presses me into him. I kiss back—I don’t even know if I can help myself. My hands are in his hair, pulling his face down on mine, before I realize it.
He lifts me up into his arms, but the huge skirts prevent me from wrapping my legs around him. He turns and carries me to the bed, still caressing my tongue with his.
When we land on the bed, reality crashes back in. “Stop!” I push him over and roll off the bed. I am breathless, straightening my dress and trying to get control of my brain. I don’t even seem to care that he likely doesn’t love me. I am the right choice for his people. I need to remember that. “Just stop.”
“That is exactly what our first kiss should have been.” The smile he gives me sets me further on fire. I have a hard time swallowing. Dear God, he is beautiful, especially when he is trying to get me to marry him.
I look at him, “Why don’t I ever know what I think and feel with you? It always feels like I am outside of myself.”
He steps around the bed, coming to me. “Because there are forces greater than our hearts involved in our love. We are soul mates. We were written in the stars—meant to be. We have been betrothed since I was a boy.”
I scowl, “No. That isn’t possible. When I was four, I was made the betrothed of the Duke of Red Falls. He was a boy. I was to meet him when I was old enough to be courted.”
He nods, “I was. I was a boy of twelve.”
I take a step back, “You? The duke? But you’re to be king? Did you always know it was me? All along?” Oh my God. Oh my God. I think I’m going
to throw up. He has been my betrothed all along?
He nods again, taking another step. I match him, step for step, but I am backing away until I am across the room and against another wall. “You are the duke and the king?”
He laughs, “Do you want it written in blood? Yes. The eldest son in my mother’s family always has the title. My mother married the king—not much her family could do about it. Tradition is tradition. I get both titles.”
I can’t feel my legs. I swear I’m losing my mind. I give him my best pleading look, “Please, just tell me the truth. Just stop screwing with me. I don’t want any more lies. I just want to know what’s going on. You and I were betrothed all along? That’s the truth? Not some stupid lie you’re making up to make me feel better about this whole situation?”
“It is the truth. I swear on the God of all that is just.”
I look down, “Why wasn’t I ever told it was you? Why did they keep it secret?”
He takes the last step, “My mother wanted it kept quiet. It would make you a target for abduction, and we would be forced to pay the ransom.”
I scoff bitterly, “Yeah, that worked out well. My own family ended up abducting us both—so awesome work.”
He gives me a look, “It was done in your best interest, smart ass.”
I scowl at him, “Do you think your parents know I am me? That I’m Lynnie?”
He shakes his head, “No. I think they think it’s remarkable and strange you look like Baylor. But no, you should be an eleven-year-old girl. They won’t think it’s you.”
“So they’re okay that you’re making them go back on their word to my mother? You’re supposed to be betrothed to me—Lynnie. Won’t they be angry at you breaking the engagement off?” I think I’m getting confused and I know my heart is.
He points at the door, “That awkward alliance my mother was discussing in the grand hall—that was me and you. My parents have wanted the alliance broken since I turned sixteen. They found a more suitable bride for me, closer in age. They wanted me married and crowned by the time I was eighteen, but we had to wait for you to turn sixteen before I could marry you.”