NICKOLAS
We leave the hotel, my steps heavy with a sense of urgency that has become my constant companion these past few days. The pre-dawn air is cool against my skin as we fan out, beginning our search of the areas the witch tracked her to before the trail went dead.
I pause, closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath through my nose, hoping against hope to catch even the faintest trace of Amelia’s sweet, intoxicating scent on the breeze. The scent that never fails to soothe the turmoil in my soul, a balm against the ever-present worries that plague me.
Unconsciously, my mind conjures her image so vividly that I can almost reach out and touch her. I see her standing before me in that pale yellow sundress that hugs her lithe form in all the right places, the soft fabric doing little to conceal the lush curves that have become my torment and my salvation. Her beautiful face is tilted up towards the sun, and those baby blue eyes I adore crinkle at the corners as she smiles wide and unguarded.
A ragged sigh escapes my lips as the vision fades, leaving me bereft and aching down to my very core. Amelia… my heart clenches painfully at the thought of only having her committed to memory, of never again seeing that smile in the flesh, those eyes sparkling with life and something else as they gaze into mine.
“You know, I really thought it would be impossible.”
Eric’s voice cuts through my melancholy, startling me from my reverie. I blink, refocusing on the present to find him watching me with an odd look on his face – part amusement, part something deeper that I can’t quite put my finger on.
“What would be impossible?” I ask gruffly, resisting the urge to snap at him for the intrusion.
A slow smile spreads across his lips. “The day you would think about Amelia without scowling like she ruined your favorite pair of boots.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, the truth in them undeniable. I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat, my carefully cultivated mask slipping as myriad emotions war within me.
“You know it’s not actually a bad thing, right?” Eric continues, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Amelia is a wonderful person, and nothing like Jane was.”
The name sends a spike of white-hot rage lancing through me, quickly smothered beneath a wave of bone-deep weariness. “I know that,” I murmur, my shoulders slumping beneath an invisible weight. “But she’s…”
“The enemy’s daughter,” Eric finishes for me with a nod of understanding. “A fact that can never be changed, no matter how much we might wish otherwise.”
I nod jerkily. “Then why are you even bothering to try and save her?” he presses. “Lord Easterlin has her now. He’s probably already used her to resurrect your brother. Even if we do find her, it may already be too late.”
The thought hits me like a sledgehammer to the gut, stealing my breath and leaving me reeling. Because as much as I want to deny it, to push away the very notion, Eric’s words ring with an undeniable truth. We may already be too late to stop Easterlin’s plans.
So why am I still searching? Why aren’t I already preparing if he has truly resurrected my brother? The answer comes to me then, unbidden but carrying the weight of revelation.
“Because a part of me is missing without her,” I rasp, the words tearing themselves from my throat as if of their own volition. I lift my gaze to Eric’s, holding it steadily as I repeat, “I need that part, Eric. I need it like I need air to breathe.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes. “I can see the same thing I saw back in your hotel room,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“What’s that?” I demand, suddenly desperate to know what he sees so clearly when my own vision is clouded by fear and doubt.
But Eric just smiles that infuriatingly enigmatic smile and shakes his head. “I’ll let you figure that out on your own, my friend.”
I part my lips, ready to protest and demand an explanation, but the shrill ringing of my phone interrupts me. Fumbling in my pocket, I wrestle the buzzing device free, my heart pounding as the caller ID blinks Uncle Leo’s name on the screen. A surge of nervous anticipation rushes through me as I jab the answer button, pressing the phone tight against my ear.
“Uncle Leo,” I whisper, the words catching in my dry throat. Please, let this be good news.
“Nick, you need to return to the castle immediately.” His voice is laced with an urgency.
“Why?” I demand, my heart thundering a frantic staccato against my ribcage. My ears strain eagerly, yearning to hear the words my soul has craved since the moment I lost her-the moment her warmth, her light, was torn from my world.
“There is a situation unfolding at the castle that requires your presence. The lords are revolting.” Uncle Leo replies, his grave words the last thing I expected to hear. They land like a blow, the wind knocked from my lungs as hope instantly withers within my chest.
“Revolting?” I echo, momentarily thrown by his phrasing.
“Yes, revolting,” he confirms grimly. “Against your authority as king.”
A tremor runs through me, icy tendrils of disbelief and rage intertwining. “On what grounds?” I grit out, my free hand clenching into a white-knuckled fist.
There’s a pregnant pause as if Uncle Leo is struggling to find the right words. When he finally speaks.
“They are saying you have become… compromised. That you have fallen for Amelia, and that is the only reason you are so determined to find her.”
“What?” The word bursts from me, sharp and disbelieving even as I turn to face Eric, hitting the speaker button so he can hear as well. His expression is a mirror of my own stunned incredulity, eyes wide and concerned.
“You heard me correctly,” Uncle Leo continues, each word feeling like a lead weight dropping into the pit of my churning stomach. “They are claiming you have… developed feelings for the enemy’s daughter. And they refuse to serve a king who loves the one person that poses the greatest threat to our kind.”
A harsh bark of mirthless laughter escapes my lips as I rake a hand through my disheveled hair, the bitter truth of his words settling over me like a suffocating shroud.
“Wow,” I mutter, shaking my head in a futile attempt to dispel the rising sense of despair. “Just what I fucking needed right now.”
As if the universe itself hasn’t thrown enough obstacles in my path, now I have to contend with this – a full-blown rebellion from the lords.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Uncle Leo says, his tone softening ever so slightly. “But you need to return and deal with this immediately before it spirals further out of control. Call off the search, at least for the time being-”
“Did you just fucking say that?” I explode, all semblance of composure shattering like a pane of glass as white-hot fury lances through me. “Amelia has been missing for two goddamn days, Uncle! Two fucking days, and you want me to just abandon her?”
I can feel Eric’s hand on my shoulder, a silent plea for calm, but I shrug it off violently as I continue to vent my rage and frustration.
“Because a bunch of senile old fools have decided to believe the ludicrous notion that I’ve somehow fallen in love with her?” I demand, my voice rising to a shout as I pace in an agitated circle. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Nick…” Eric tries again, but I round on him with a snarl, my control slipping through my fingers like water.
“Don’t you dare tell me he’s right,” I growl, jabbing a finger toward the phone still clutched in my white-knuckled grip. “Don’t you fucking dare?”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I can see the truth in Eric’s eyes, can read the silent apology in the set of his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth. Because as much as it kills me to admit it, as much as every fiber of my being rebels against the mere notion, they are right.
Allowing this dissent to fester, to take root and spread its poison through the ranks of the nobility, will only weaken me. And a weakened king, a ruler whose authority is openly questioned and mocked, will be powerless to affect any sort of meaningful rescue when – not if, when – we finally locate Amelia.
The realization is like a kick to the gut, stealing what little wind remains in my sails as my shoulders slump in defeat. I turn away from Eric, unable to meet his sympathetic gaze as I rake a shaky hand over my face.
“Your uncle is correct,” Eric says, his deep voice soft but insistent as he steps up beside me. “As much as it pains me to say it, we can’t afford to let the kingdom descend into chaos right now.”
My shoulders slump in defeat, the weight of their words settling over me like a suffocating shroud. As much as it galls me, and every instinct rebels against the mere notion of abandoning the search, I can’t deny the truth in what Eric and my uncle are saying. Putting Amelia’s rescue on hold, even temporarily, feels like a betrayal of the most visceral kind – a surrender to the very forces that took her from me in the first place. But what choice do I have? Allowing this dissent to fester unchecked would only weaken my position and cripple my ability to affect any sort of meaningful rescue when the time comes.
I’m vaguely aware of Eric watching me, his expression a careful mask of understanding and concern as I wrestle with the bitter reality before us. He knows, as well as I, that this is the pragmatic course, the logical decision a ruler must make when faced with such turmoil on the home front. But logic and pragmatism have never felt so much like ash on my tongue.
Just as I’m about to voice my grudging capitulation, Uncle Leo’s voice cuts through the tense silence, his next words like a lifeline tossed to a drowning man.
“Don’t worry, Nick,” he says, that familiar paternal tone doing its best to soothe the ragged edges of my fractured composure. “I’ll have some of my most trusted men continue the search for her while you deal with this situation.”
Relief washes over me in a dizzying wave, allowing me to draw in the first full breath I’ve managed since this latest crisis reared its head.
“Just return to the palace as soon as possible,” Uncle Leo presses, his voice taking on a harder edge now. “We need to get this contained before it spirals any further out of control.”
“I’ll be on my way shortly,” I reply, the words emerging in a low rasp as I struggle to keep my composure intact.
“Good. I’ll see you soon, then.” The call disconnects with a soft click.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn to face Eric fully, allowing the mask of grim determination to settle over my features once more.
“Let’s go,” I say, moving toward the exit of the forest. I can hear Eric falling into step beside me, that solid, reassuring presence at my side as we make our way back to the hotel to pick up my things.
The walk passes in tense silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we navigate the winding path through the pre-dawn gloom. I can feel the first insidious tendrils of doubt beginning to take root, those treacherous whispers in the back of my mind questioning whether this is all a sign – an omen that the universe itself has aligned against me, that no matter how hard I fight, how far I’m willing to go, Amelia is lost to me forever.
I grit my teeth against the despair that threatens to pull me under, forcing those toxic thoughts away with a vehemence born of sheer desperation. Because the alternative – accepting her loss as inevitable, as a fixed point in the cosmic order – is a desolation too bleak for me to even contemplate. A world without Amelia’s light, without the piece of me that she’s somehow claimed as her own, is an empty, colorless existence that holds no appeal.
So, I’ll play along for now. I’ll deal with this latest insurrection from the lords with the same ruthless efficiency I’ve handled every other threat to my reign over the centuries. And then, with the kingdom’s stability assured and my authority re-established, I will turn every last resource at my disposal towards finding Amelia and bringing her home safely.
Anything less than her return is simply unacceptable. And I will tear apart the fabric of reality itself before I let her slip away into the abyss, no matter what price I have to pay.
Amelia will be returned to me, or this world and everyone in it will burn. It’s as simple as that.