Read The Emerald Prince Online
Authors: Kayci Morgan
Her brother must have thought so too because Elliot responded with laughter. “That’s hilarious, but cruel. My sister doesn’t find such things amusing. If you keep teasing her, you’re going to make her cry.”
As if Elliot hadn’t even spoken, the king said, “I have been thinking about this too. And I believe you’re right. I think the best thing for the kingdom is to have you marry Elliot instead of Victoria. What do you think, Alaster?”
Alaster? When had her father started to address Lord Rynden by his first name? Her betrothal to Blaine took months of secret negotiations, eight lawyers, and several times during the discussions her father and Lord Rynden almost came to blows. There was no way they’d change the wedding plans in such a drastic way over morning meal!
“I’ve been thinking about it too, and I’m convinced I made a mistake. The marriage should be between Blaine and Elliot instead.”
Victoria turned to her brother who stood up from the table and said, “I don’t know if this is some sort of joke—”
“I assure you, it isn’t,” the king said. Victoria believed him; her father wouldn’t participate in a joke so cruel. This wasn’t a joke at all. This was a nightmare.
“There is no way I’m marrying him!” Elliot pushed away from the table and left without another word.
Princess Zariya rose from the table. “I’ll go talk to him. Don’t worry. I’m sure I can convince him it’s the best thing for everyone.”
Victoria wanted to scream. Did they even notice she was still there? It was
not
the best thing for everyone. She had just been brushed aside as if she were less than nothing, and no one seemed to even notice let alone care.
“May I be excused?” she struggled to get the words out, tears burning behind her eyes.
“Of course, dear.”
With the king’s permission, she rose from the table, fighting the urge to dash from the room. She was of noble birth, and noblewomen did not run. With an unsteady gait, she managed to make it back to her quarters with Marla following behind her, asking what was wrong. Her protector had been standing outside the door and hadn’t heard the discussion inside.
Once Victoria reached the safety of her room, she collapsed on the floor, crying so hard she was certain to drown in her own tears. Marla knelt next to her, wiping her hair out her face, asking again and again what was wrong.
But Victoria had no words. There was no explanation for what had just happened. It defied all reason. When she did manage to gather enough breath to speak, she uttered one question, not meant for Marla, but perhaps to the gods that mocked her so by allowing such a thing to happen. “What is to become of me now?”
Elliot paced back and forth across the floor in his chambers. It was a joke. It was an elaborate, horrible joke that they were all playing together. Of course, that went against everything Elliot had ever known about every person in the room, especially his father and sister. But that had to be it. Because there was no way they could have seriously expected him to marry Blaine. He was the Crown Prince. He had to produce an heir. There had been plenty of times throughout history where two men married, but never in a situation where succession was in question.
And there was the small problem of him being madly in love with someone else. The idea of waking up and staring into anyone’s eyes but hers, embracing anyone’s body but hers, being touched by anyone but her, it was ludicrous. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it.
There was a soft tap at the door.
“What!” Elliot snapped.
The door slowly opened and Zariya peeked in. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to you.”
He rushed over and swept her up in his arms. Only she would understand his pain. She had to be hurting just as much as he was at the news. “Don’t worry. I won’t agree to it. No matter what my father does to me. Even if he tosses me in the dungeon, I won’t agree to marry anyone but you.”
“But Elliot, you must.”
He pulled her away from him, staring at her face, unable to believe what she just said. “But…but I love you.”
She cupped his face in her hands and a warm wave rushed over him. “I know you do. But this is for the best. The Rynden family is very powerful, and you need them as your allies.”
“And that’s why he was marrying my sister!”
“But he doesn’t want to your sister, he wants you.”
“Then that’s too bad.”
“You must accept, the entire kingdom is depending on this marriage.”
“No, the entire kingdom is depending on my sister marrying him. She's the one concerned about duty and honor, not me.”
“Just marry him. A year from now you can take me as your second wife.”
Elliot’s stomach clenched. “Never! You are second to no one, and I love you too much to pretend otherwise.”
“I have no wealth. I no longer have a kingdom. It’s appropriate.”
“Appropriate to publicly brand you my whore and any children we have bastards?”
“I’d rather be your whore than another man’s wife.”
Elliot sighed in defeat. “It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn't. But it's the choice you must make.”
The day of the wedding, servants took care of Elliot’s every need. They washed him and combed his hair. They dressed him in clothes more formal than he’d ever agree to wear under normal circumstances. A white suit, with purple accents and gold trim. A high collar and a bunch of pins commemorating achievements that weren’t his. They were simply decorative, only there because they looked…princely.
And then they put that damn crown on his head. Instinctively, his chin jutted out. He’d been trained so well to keep his head held high when he wore his crown that signified him as the heir apparent. He couldn’t run or play or roll in the grass. Not when he wore it. When he wore his crown, he was no more a real person than the porcelain dolls his sister used to play with. As a boy, he tossed it away and refused to wear it again. His father indulged his whims and let the subject rest.
It was fitting that the day all his dreams died would be the day he was crushed under the weight of it. He had heard the stories so often. It was the burden of nobility. Why did he think for one moment he’d get a happy ending?
The servants finished their work, and he was escorted from the palace and shoved into a carriage. At the heart of Tys stood the Eternal Grove, a patch of green untouched by the bustling city that surrounded it. The four corners of the grove were marked by four temples, one for each god.
Elliot’s carriage stopped in front of the temple of Niklas, the earth god and First Father. Blaine was already waiting for him on the temple steps. Together, they would take The Walk. It seemed so innocuous a term. Almost sweet, but the stroll Elliot was about to go on would change his life forever — if it didn’t kill him.
The floor of Niklas’s temple was covered in grass. Magic was not discussed outside the orders of priests and priestesses. If a child was born with preternatural gifts, they were called to serve the gods. To do otherwise was a sin and a crime. Since Elliot knew so little about the mysteries of magic, he didn’t know if the floor of the temple was created through magic or clever construction.
Blaine and Elliot stood before the black priest. If they survived the ceremony, there would be a feast for them back at the palace. The priest pulled out a silver dagger, its handle covered in intricate carvings. He took Blaine’s hand and ran the blade across his palm. He flinched but did not make a sound. Elliot was next. He’d underestimated the pain from watching Blaine’s reaction and cried out trying to pull back his hand as the priest cut him.
But it was too late, his blood was already mingling with Blaine’s in the grass. The earth beneath them began to pulse and glow. A sapling sprouted up from the ground. “This represents the foundation of your love. The creation of your family. As your love grows, this tree will grow.”
The priest grasped each of them on the shoulder. “Grow strong.”
The couple looked at each other and then back to the priest who added, “You have Niklas’s blessing. You may go to the next temple now.”
They left temple and headed to Isla’s, the goddess of love and passion. This was where Elliot planned to die. It was believed that if any of the gods objected to a union, those trying to get married would be struck down in the temple. That hadn’t happened in Elliot’s lifetime, or his father’s, but it had happened. And given the strength of his feelings for Zariya, he was certain Isla would destroy him for his betrayal.
An overly excited priestess met them at the front door. “Come in. Don’t be shy.” The room was oddly empty. Elliot was expecting more furniture, sacred relics, or at least some decor. But there was little in the red temple but a hyper priestess. “So, are you two ready to take your first step?”
Blaine nodded, and the room went up in flames. They both jumped back, but the priestess seemed unfazed. “Just hold hands and step through the fire.”
Even a few feet away, Elliot could feel the heat coming off the flames. “Are you kidding me?” When people talked about wedding ceremonies, they tended to keep things vague, but he didn’t understand how people managed to keep secret the walking through fire part.
Blaine reached out and took Elliot’s hand. The prince took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d set himself on this course, and he was either going to follow it or die horribly trying to.
Flames licked his skin, but Elliot felt no pain. He cracked open one eye to see Blaine surrounded in a red aura that was quickly dissipating, like the setting of the sun. “So beautiful,” Elliot muttered.
Blaine smiled. “You too.”
The flames subsided, and the red priestess shooed them from the room. “Off with you now.”
Elliot shook his head laughing as they headed for the next temple. He hoped whatever Ephron, the god of wisdom, had in store for them, it didn’t involve drowning. The temple reminded Elliot more of an overstuffed library than a place of worship. Books ran from the floor to the ceiling and scrolls lay piled up in any and every available corner. An old scribe hobbled towards them, seeming unsure what they were doing there.
“We’re on The Walk.” Blaine explained to the man who had so far only stood there staring at them.
He clapped his hands together. “Oh, you need paper!”
The old man went from desk to desk, tossing around things until he came back with two sheets of paper and a quill.
Elliot looked at the blank parchment. “What’s this for?”
“It’s the vows you make to each other.”
“But it’s blank.” Elliot argued.
The scribe shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment. “Of course it’s blank. You haven’t made any vows yet.”
Blaine signed his sheet and handed the quill to Elliot who also signed. “I vow to cherish you,” said Blaine, and suddenly the words appeared on the page in a golden light.
Elliot tested his with, “I vow to drive you crazy.” The words
I vow to drive you crazy in bed
appeared on the parchment.
The water god had a sense of humor.
The scribe took the parchment and filed it away with similar looking papers. Elliot wondered if Ephron kept record of the promises they made to each other for the rest of their lives.
Their last stop was Arye’s temple. Serene was the best way to describe the Holy Mother’s temple. A white priestess greeted them warmly when they first entered and led them to a private room. She instructed them to sit and wait.
Waiting in silence quickly grew boring. Elliot leaned against a wall and began to doze. When he closed his eyes, he saw a face, one he easily recognized. Not because he remembered her, but because he’d seen it so many times, in paintings and statues, even the water fountain in his garden had been made to resemble his mother.
He felt so safe and warm, the steady beat of her heart lulling him to sleep. She kissed his forehead, which made him realize her proportions were off. Her face was too big.
Then he understood. This was a memory. His own memory of the day he was born, when his mother held him and loved him for every moment she could until death took her.
Suddenly, he was snatched from that memory and was experiencing another one. This time he was falling, but he wasn’t afraid. He felt free. The wind rushing across his face. The smell of green grass. Never had he experienced such relief, such a sense of victory. The memory certainly wasn’t his own.
Elliot opened his eyes to find Blaine watching him. “The woman with the blonde hair?”
“My mother.”
“So it was real. I thought so.”
“And the falling?”
Blaine shrugged. “It’s never happened. But it was me. I could feel it was me. What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. We should ask the priestess.”
“It means what was once two, is now one. Congratulations.” Elliot looked up startled. He hadn’t realized she’d come back into the room.
The priestess wouldn’t give them any insight into the visions they had; she simply explained it wasn’t her place, so they left the grove and headed back to the palace.
Elliot had done it. He had managed to fulfill his duty, and it was easier than he imagined. Under different circumstances, he could see himself getting along well with Blaine. He just hoped that one day Zariya could forgive him.
After the wedding came the festivities. From one end of the city to the other, people celebrated the union between the Kalsens and the Ryndens.
Elliot returned to the palace with his new spouse to attend a banquet in their honor. He walked numbly through the crowd of excited noblemen, eager to offer their well-wishes to the new couple.
No one seemed curious about why it was Elliot and not Victoria who had gotten married. They probably assumed she had committed some shameful offense causing the Ryndens to refuse her as a daughter. His poor sister. She’d done nothing to deserve such disgrace.