The Emerald Prince (2 page)

Marla was right. She’d definitely wear the purple dress. Her dear Blaine wouldn’t stand a chance.

Chapter Three

Blaine stared out the window as his carriage maneuvered through the streets of Tys. These were the final moments of his life. He’d step out of the carriage, and everything he admired about himself would die. All that would remain was a puppet pulled by his father’s strings. All his life he’d done nothing but try to please the man. Did he argue when his father gave him his own legion at fifteen and sent him to the front lines? Did he let his voice crack as he told men twice his age what to do in battle when he’d never even seen one before? No. He did what was expected of him. He faced every challenge put before him and succeeded. The youngest commander in Entian history. He was his father’s legendary son.

But that was different. He believed in bravery, duty, sacrifice. What he was doing now was against everything he believed it.
I will never love her.
In two days, he’d swear to the gods to love this poor woman for the rest of his life, and the words would turn to ash in his mouth because it was a lie.

Since he was young, he sensed there was something different about him. Everyone else was capable of expressing their desires so freely, man, woman, it didn’t matter. But to him, it did. From time to time, he’d develop feelings for men he fought with, and often those feelings were returned. Every day was spent fighting for his people and his honor. Every night was spent making love by the fire. War had become more desirable to him than peace, because things always ended the same.

On his return home, his lover would gleefully relay the news his family had found him a wife. Blaine would force himself to smile as his replacement’s virtues were listed to him. “Oh, I hear she’s a master at the harp.” “The finest cook in Esson my parents say.” But this time was different. Upon his return from fighting an Enem tribe that had decided to claim territory beyond the Yasi River, he was informed of his own upcoming nuptials.

When he told his lover at the time, a young noble from House Tiagar, Ren sincerely congratulated him. Even as they lay in bed together for the last time, he couldn’t stop talking about how much he envied Blaine. To be betrothed to a princess. And not just any princess, Victoria the Magnificent. Scholars and priests quoted from her essays on divinity and man’s relationship to the gods. Noble women copied her dress and demeanor. It was rumored there wasn’t an instrument in Entia that she couldn’t play fluently. A legendary princess for a legendary knight. What could be more appropriate?

Blaine fought back another wave of nausea. He had to tell his parents.
I know this marriage will secure the prosperity of our house for generations to come, but I can’t go through with it.
He could see the veins in his father’s neck bulging as he fought the urge to decapitate his only son. Maybe if he jumped out the carriage he could break and arm or something. That would postpone the wedding at least until the bone healed. Blaine eyed the pavement longingly.
No, that would never work. We’re moving too slow.

Blaine had wanted to see Tys since he was a child, but he never had the time. At first, training took up his every free moment, and later, he spent so much time defending the borders of the kingdom he didn’t have occasion to visit its capital. But he knew many soldiers from Tys, and each of them spoke of it fondly. The city was the heart of the kingdom, the center of art, music, and commerce in Entia. Its people were a mixture of cultures from all over the world. Fezami merchants, Entian nobility, even Ghani, whose ancestors were long ago taken slave during the First War, flourished in this city.

There were songs written of the opulent palace of the Kalsen Dynasty and its opal colored towers that rose so high they seemed to touch the heavens. Blaine should have been awed by the sights before him. This was the life he had fought to protect, the people he risked his life to defend. But his journey though the city felt like a deathmarch.

As the palace came into view, Blaine fell back against his seat, heaving a heavy sigh.
My guillotine awaits.

The number of people crowded in the inner courtyard astounded Blaine. It’s was customary for the household, including children and servants, to greet arriving guests. But surely all those people didn’t live in the palace. When the carriages stopped, Blaine found himself a bit intimidated. War was so much easier. At least if these people were raiders, Blaine would have a well-equipped army at his back. It wasn’t until he saw his parents had stepped from their carriage did he realize he should probably join them and stop peeking at the crowd like a frightened mouse from his hole.

In front of the crowd stood four people. King Reynard wore a massive, intricate crown. Strands of brownish-gray hair poked out from under it. To the king’s left stood Princess Victoria, his intended. She wore a fluttery purple gown that changed hues whenever she moved. A delicate tiara sat atop her head, circling a complicated bun that ended in large curls of dark hair that fell over her bare shoulders. She was the kind of beauty men would kill to possess. Most men, anyway.

Her smile hinted at modesty, her eyes shone with intelligence and eagerness. He could tell she was appraising him and that she liked what she saw. Blaine felt worse for her than he did for himself. She would spend the rest of her life wondering about her failings, wondering what she did to be undeserving of her husband’s affections. He’d do his best to make her happy, but he wasn’t naive enough to believe he’d succeed.

To the king’s right, a blond squire absently kicked at the cobblestone pathway. It wasn’t until the young man looked up and Blaine saw his brilliant green eyes did he realize he was looking at the Crown Prince. Nothing about his demeanor reminded Blaine of nobility. He worn well-made leathers, but a prince could afford far more expensive and exotic clothing. They weren’t even dyed. And most importantly, he hadn’t actually bothered to wear his crown. And one would think a prince, trained in diplomacy, could at least pretend to have some interest in the arrival of his future brother.

Lord Alaster Rynden, Blaine’s father, would have had him beaten for such blatant disregard for custom and etiquette. His father had insisted they both change into their armor before entering Tys. A symbol of their military might. Blaine had been grateful his father meant the chainmail and not the plate. What would someone like Prince Elliot have done under such expectations?

The last person waiting to greet them was a Fezami woman. From her dress she had to be noble-born, possibly a royal guest considering she stood with the royal family on such an important occasion.

Lord Alaster grasped the king’s hand and gave a hard shake. Both of them had insincere smiles on their faces. The truth was, the Ryndens hated the Kalsens for almost a century, ever since House Rynden lost the throne during an uprising, and House Kalsen used their wealth and influence to buy the support of the people. It had taken many years for the Ryndens to rebuild their strength after such a complete and total defeat. But once again they were a power to be feared. The king realized this, that it was better to ally with the Ryndens than to fight them. Thus Blaine’s fate was sealed. But even that didn’t quell his father’s lust for the throne. Son had vowed to father to reclaim the crown since they’d lost it. Rynden men were meant to be kings. It was their birthright.

Much like his lust for women, Blaine’s over-ambition seemed to be a family trait he was grossly lacking. He had no desire to be king. He just wanted from under his father’s thumb.

“Greetings Brother, it is an honor to welcome you to my home,” said the king through gritted teeth.

“No, the honor is mine. To be welcomed into your home and your family is more than I could have imagined.”

Blaine almost laughed. They weren’t even good playactors. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Prince Elliot rolled his eyes at the exchange.

“I’d like you to meet my son, Elliot. And my daughter Victoria,” the king said gesturing to each of his children. “And this is Princess Zariya from Se’red.”

Se’red was on the far east side of Fezam, past an uncrossable desert. The only way to reach Entia from there was to circle the continent by ship. The princess had come a very long way. Blaine turned to Zariya and greeted her in her native language. “Elos de fenar etu vilos.”

She smiled brightly as she responded. “Elos anar ech dravosi.”
Greetings, handsome warrior.

For the first time, the prince seemed to be interested in what was going on around him. “You speak Fezami?”

“I do. But that wasn’t it. Fezam has a common language, but I was speaking Seni, the princess’s first language. I had the opportunity to learn it when I visited our colonies on the western coast. My translator was from Ash Valley and taught me his native tongue.”

When the colonists decided to stop paying taxes, Blaine was sent there to eliminate the ruling families and install new governors. He had learned the Fezam common language out of necessity. He’d learned Seni for more intimate reasons.

The prince grinned. “More than just a sword arm, eh?”

“Commanding an army takes quite a bit of strategy. I only tend to use my sword arm if things are going very poorly.”

Laughter swept through the crowd, reminding Blaine he was on display at the moment.

King Reynard said, “You must be exhausted after your long journey. Come inside, rest. Evening meal is being prepared.”

After being shown to their rooms and getting their trunks unpacked, the Ryndens met the royal family in the dining hall for evening meal. The rosewood table had enough chairs to seat twenty, but only Blaine, his parents, the king, the prince, and both princesses were in attendance. Princess Victoria made a point of sitting on Blaine’s left, the position where a man’s wife would sit. Across from him sat Elliot, and to his left was Princess Zariya, who whispered things in his ear that brought a smile to his lips.

“So have you seen
Essence of Arye
yet?”

It took Blaine several seconds to realize Victoria was addressing him. He turned to her. “Pardon?”

Elliot explained. “It’s a play. Quite popular. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.”

Blaine stared down at his plate. “I’m not really fond of plays.” The truth was, the last time he’d seen a play was when a troupe of actors were traveling past Raven’s Flight and his mother hired them to perform for his twelfth birthday. He thought going to plays was something children did.

Blaine took a bite of his pheasant, hoping if his mouth was full, no one would try to engage him in conversation, considering the thing he most wanted to say was what a grievous mistake they were making. It didn’t work.

“So what do you do for fun?” Victoria asked.

Win wars. Kill my enemies. Make love to gorgeous men in exotic locations.
“Nothing much.”

His father spoke up. “Come now, don’t be modest. Blaine loves hunting, fishing, and wrestling.”

The knight sighed as his father listed his own hobbies. The last time Blaine wrestled was when his father got so drunk he refused to leave the tavern.

Elliot tilted his head to the side, sizing Blaine up. “You don’t look like a wrestler.”

“You don’t look like a prince.”

“Blaine!” snapped his mother. Her first words since they’d arrived in Tys, so he knew he’d greatly erred. His mother had realized early on, that much like her, his thoughts were too close to his mouth and taught him the art of saying as little as possible. But unfortunately, people insisted on talking to him, forcing him to answer questions he didn’t have the tact to manage.

To his mother’s visible relief, the prince responded to Blaine’s criticism with laughter. “You and my sister will get along well. She often complains about my style of dress.”

Princess Zariya’s eyes narrowed as she glared in Victoria’s direction. “She complains about everyone’s dress.”

Victoria’s grip tightened around her fork. Blaine looked back and forth between the two women, wondering about the cause of their discord.

Princess Victoria turned back to Blaine, her expression softening as she gazed at him. “So tell me more about yourself.”

I’m a treasonous coward that’s going to destroy your life.
“There isn’t much to tell.”

The prince interjected, “Don’t be bashful. We’re all family here. They say you’re the best swordsman in the kingdom.”

Blaine choked back a laugh. His men often teased him about how his skill with a sword was unmatched, but they weren’t taking about the weapon hanging from his belt. “Is that what they say?”

Blaine could see Prince Elliot fitting right in with one of his regiments. He came across as so normal, unfettered by the trappings of his position. Everything would be so much easier if the Kalsens were the arrogant, corrupt villains his father had described them to be. But so far, nothing seemed further from the truth.

“So how about after dinner we see if the rumors are true,” said the prince.

“Pardon, your Highness?”

“A friendly duel between you and me.”

“Uh…I’m not sure…maybe we should…”

“He accepts,” said Lord Rynden.

Blaine glared at his father as Elliot clapped his hands together. “Excellent!”

After dinner, they headed outside to the courtyard. Prince Elliot had a squire fetch them a couple of training swords. News traveled fast, and soon, every man, woman, and child staying in the palace had crowded into the courtyard in order to watch the duel. The prince tossed one of the practice swords to Blaine. “First person to get three blows?”

Blaine gave a curt nod.

The prince walked over to Princess Zariya and said, “Would you honor me by bestowing your favor?”

“But I’m fairly confident you’re going to lose.”

Several people in the crowd chuckled, whispering among themselves. Most people would have been humiliated and threatened a woman for speaking to them like that, but the prince simply waited, holding out his sword.