King Lucien only got up and patted his shoulder in reassurance. "It is okay, Deck. I will not force you to. I will not impose it on you, either. I respect your decision."
His uneasiness dissolved. "Thank you, brother." His usual smile crossed his face. "One great thing is that you're not in love with my woman. And you do not want to marry her."
“The Princess Kamara.” The king nodded. "I still can't believe that you're the peasant. That woman loves you immensely."
"Yes. I—I feel that way for her, too." A blush colored his cheeks. "Her father almost killed me for it. You saved my life."
"Valendy will be shocked when the words of who you really are eventually get to him. I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if I'd realized who you were only to hear that he'd killed you for being a 'peasant' that compromised his daughter." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That would have meant unstoppable war."
"I'm glad everything worked out in the—"
The door suddenly burst open. Princess Kamara hurried into the king's chambers, and her eyes went wide when she saw the king conversing comfortably with her Callan.
"Oh heavens, it's true!" She gasped. The rumors were unbelievable when she heard them—that the prince of Salem, who was thought dead, arrived as Navia's prisoner today.
The people were talking about it. Words were travelling fast. She'd found it hard to believe. It was just too unbelievable. But as she saw her Callan and the king…
"The rumors are true!" she cried as she rushed further into the king's chambers.
Declan was already halfway across the room to get to her first. They met in the middle of the bedroom, and Declan took her up into his arms. Princess Kamara hugged him tight. The princess began rambling on how it was all impossible to believe; Declan went ahead to assure her that it was really true.
He was no peasant at all. Instead, he was King Lucien's cousin's brother. Royalty.
"Heavens, I should have known. Your eyes..." Her eyes turned towards the king and back at her Callan. The deep blue eyes were almost identical.
Then they were hugging again. The princess was so emotional. The heavens were with her! No more marrying the king of Salem! The love of her life was not a peasant! He was not only privileged, but someone more! He was royalty. Full-fledged. He was the cousin's brother of the king of Salem himself!
She was crying, the words rambling from her mouth as she hugged him as tight as she could. Oh, how she couldn't wait for her father to hear this! For his useless mistress, Donna, to hear!
Oh, how she couldn't wait to see her father anytime soon so she could rub it in his face!
Indeed, Heaven was with her. She could have happiness and perform her duties as a princess.
Coza was sheathing in rage. His anger and furious state knew no comparison.
Everything was going down the drain! Everything!
Not only did Talia not succeed in killing anybody, but she also got exposed and was killed by the king.
Vetta did not kill the queen of Mombana. No, his former master's daughter was still alive doing heavens-knows-what!
And the worst?
Prince Declan. Prince Declan was alive!
Picking up his favorite wooden chair, he threw it across the cave wall and watched it break to pieces. "Aaaargh!" he shouted in rage! "Everything is falling apart! Everything!!!" he raged, kicking the table repeatedly.
It did nothing to alleviate his anger! Nothing! Another royalty was back, so Salem was not safe to attack for now.
No, he knew what would alleviate his anger. Time was running out. His patience had run too thin.
No, it was time he went all out!
With that thought in mind, he drafted out a message in a scroll, walked outside his cage, and sent it out using the messenger bird. The message was for his troops—the army he had kept hidden for the past six years. His captain would know that message for what it was. It was a signal.
Tomorrow morning, they would attack Mombana.
No more hiding.
No more waiting.
It is war.
His greatest advantage was that Mombana would never see it coming. Like Salem never did fifteen years ago.
It was almost midnight, and King Lucien just got out of the shower. His heart was lighter for the first time in years. The joy in his heart immeasurable. He had stayed with Declan since he came back. Even after his reunion with his princess, he'd remained with him in his chambers.
Now, he'd finally left to go, either to catch some sleep or spend more time with his princess.
King Lucien finished toweling his body when a hesitant knock came to his door.
"Who is there?" Taking out his nightclothes, he surveyed the garment carefully.
"Remeta, Your Highness," came the familiar voice. But it wasn't small and tiny like Remeta's normal voice. It was bold. Too bold.
The voice of the seer.
King Lucien abandoned his nightclothes, and with his towel firmly around his waist, he walked to the door and pulled it open.
Remeta stood there, staring right at him, but he could tell that her eyes weren't seeing him. They were dazed.
"The prince awaits his father, but he is ready to come forth. He cannot wait any longer." Her eyes finally pinned him. "Go. Now. Your queen and your son are in danger already. Not one danger, but two. They need you."
King Lucien tried to grab her words. "I do not—"
"Who the queen does not expect will give her life for hers. Heaven will cry, for she has suffered. Who your queen does not expect will give her life for hers. The heavens will cry, for she has suffered," she repeated. Then she added, "Go. Now. The prince awaits his father, but he is ready to come forth."
.
.
.