“I am tired, Logan. More tired than I can remember. These past few days have been grueling beyond measure.”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “It’s over now.”
She shook her head. “That’s just it,” she said. “It’s not over, is it? It will never be over.”
“You’re allowed to be weary,” he told her. “But you know how you get, sister. When you are at a low ebb, you are inclined to forget how far you have come, how far we have come. You risk losing perspective on everything that lies before us.”
She nodded, her eyes showing fresh strain. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just so tired of us playing these parts—the puppets of Henning and Ven.”
“I know,” he said. “As am I. But it’s only for a little longer now. Soon, very soon, we shall show everyone just who are the puppets and who are their masters.”
“You always know just what to say,” she told him.
He drew her back into his arms. “And you—you always know just what to do. That’s why, Lydia darling, we are the perfect team.”
She settled her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and felt her body relax for the first time in months. “Two jagged pieces of the same mirror,” she repeated, her voice softer now.
“Exactly,” he said, planting a tender kiss on the crown of her head.
FORTY-THREE
The Council Chamber, the Palace, Archenfield
“LET ME TELL YOU HOW I SEE THINGS,” AXEL BEGAN, when they were all seated in the Council Chamber.
Henning smiled. “Be our guest.”
Guest, Axel thought. A pointed choice of words. “You need me. Now more than ever.”
Ven raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting idea. From where I’m sitting, there would seem to be an abundance of Princes.” He turned to his brother. “What is the collective noun for princes?” Faced with Henning’s confused expression, Ven continued. “You know how for nature, there exist these curious group nouns for certain animals… ‘a murder of crows,’ ‘a parliament of owls’ and so forth. What, I wonder, is the collective noun for princes?”
“A crown of princes?” Henning suggested with a shrug.
“An ambition of princes?” Elliot offered. “No, wait—a conspiracy of princes!”
“Very good, Elliot,” Henning observed, with a nod and a wry smile.
Ven shook his head. “No, they’re not right.” His eyes turned to Axel. “Do you know the correct terminology?”
Axel returned his gaze blankly.
“Well.” Ven looked perplexed. “I’m sure I don’t know the answer. But my point remains… we really don’t need another prince in the mix.”
“You do need me,” Axel asserted, pushing on before they were waylaid by another of Ven’s meandering thoughts. “I know how this Princedom works. I have the support of the Council of Twelve—”
“Not all of them,” Henning interjected. “As I understand it, almost half of them voted to retain Prince Jared as ruler of Archenfield.”
Axel frowned. Had Elliot filled him in on these matters on their journey to this room? It was hard to think how else they could have been briefed so swiftly.
“Well, what we can be sure of is that if you ask any of the Twelve to choose between me and you, they will all choose me—” He broke off, realizing his mistake.
Both of the Paddenburg Princes were glancing toward Elliot.
“We have the newest member of the Twelve here,” Henning observed. “Let’s ask him. Elliot, would you rather see Axel remain as Prince of Archenfield or would you be in favor of a suitable alternative from our ranks?”
Axel shook his head. “I was overlooking the fact that Elliot has been on your payroll for some time. He doesn’t count.”
“Charming!” Elliot sighed.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Henning said. “Elliot’s opinion certainly counts to me. Tell us what you think, Elliot.”
Elliot nodded. “Speaking for myself, I’d be very happy to see an alternative candidate put forward for Prince,” he said.
“There’s a surprise—” Axel began.
“Please, Axel, let him finish,” Henning said. “Elliot?”
“I can only speak for myself,” Elliot said. “My loyalties are with Paddenburg.” Axel marveled at how easily those words slipped from the traitor’s tongue. “But I don’t think that is true for the other members of the Twelve. I have every reason to think that Axel is right when he says that they would choose him over any candidates you might put forward.”
“Thank you, Elliot.” Henning looked across at Axel. “You see, it was worth your while to let him finish. He seems to have endorsed your first point. I believe you have more to say?”
Axel nodded, somewhat surprised that Elliot had supported his argument. “So, first, I have the Council of Twelve’s support. Second, I have control of the army—”
“Ah!” This time it was Elliot who interrupted Axel. The way he shrugged his shoulders and smiled made Axel want nothing more than to strangle him quite slowly. “The thing is, as we all know, I am now Captain of the Guard and, for some while now, I have served as Axel’s deputy. So it would not be a major issue for the army to transfer its allegiance from Axel to me.”
“It would be more of a major issue,” Axel retorted, “as soon as they discover that you have been working for Paddenburg and against Archenfield all this time.”
“Touché.” Elliot shrugged and folded his arms.
“I take your point, Axel,” Henning said. “So what else do you have to offer us?”
Axel took a breath. “You are clearly ambitious men, both of you.” He saw no reason to include Elliot in this and noted that the Paddenburg Princes did not, on this occasion, leap to his defense. “You set out to take control of Archenfield with ruthless, single-minded ambition. You mobilized Logan Wilde to bring down the court from within and you achieved some success—”
Ven grinned. “Flattery won’t get you everything you want,” he said.
“My point,” Axel continued, “is that it’s clear to me that acquiring Archenfield cannot be the endgame for you, but merely the staging post in your ambitions. My intelligence leads me to believe that you have others of the Thousand Territories in your sights. With those kinds of grand plans, do you really want to be bogged down with the day-to-day running of one of the smaller Princedoms?”
“My, my, Axel.” Henning shook his head. “I never thought to hear you speak of Archenfield, precious Archenfield, in such derogatory terms.”
Axel shook his head but when he spoke next, his tone was even. “I am not talking Archenfield down. I would never do that. This Princedom may be small but it is a wondrous place and it has been home to my family for many centuries.”
“Fetch me a handkerchief.” Ven nudged Henning.
“All I’m saying,” Axel continued, “is that what you need now is for Archenfield to settle into the rule of Paddenburg with the minimum of fuss. So that you two may proceed with the next stage in your plans to… expand.”
Axel had managed to get the words out, even if he felt positively nauseated at having done so.
He sat back in his seat, waiting for their response. The two Princes were silent for a moment, then Henning spoke.
“This is actually quite interesting. If I understand you correctly, what you are proposing is that you continue to rule Archenfield on a day-to-day basis, so that we don’t have to. Is that right?”
Axel nodded. “Absolutely. We can draw up a power-sharing agreement. Your troops will withdraw from the borders and you will return to the Black Palace of Paddenburg, or go on to the next of your targets.”
Ven leaned forward. “And the people of Archenfield will think that, once again, the plucky little Princedom has seen off a big bad enemy. Like the war with Eronesia all over again.”
“And who delivered such a victory?” Henning stepped in. “But Prince Axel! Masterful Prince Axel. What a convincing way to announce your reign. Yes, I
see.” He nodded, then fell silent.
“So,” Axel said, “do we have a deal? Perhaps you’d like me and Elliot to leave the room so you can discuss this on your own?”
Henning shook his head. “That will not be necessary,” he said, glancing at his brother. “I’m sure I can speak for both of us. This deal is not possible.”
“Correct.” Ven nodded his agreement.
Axel’s heart missed a beat.
“I’m very interested in your handling administrative matters within Archenfield,” Henning told Axel. “Particularly with regard to the hefty tax we’ll be placing on you—war costs, you know. Yes, this all has undeniable appeal and, as you say, frees us to focus on the bigger picture—”
“What exactly is the bigger picture?” Axel inquired.
Prince Ven set down his teacup. “Now is not the time to go into detail, but what you said before was quite right.” He smiled. “This was just the beginning.”
His brother nodded, his eyes remaining on Axel. “I’m not opposed to cutting you a deal, with respect to our growing empire. You talk as if you’d be happy to live out the rest of your days in charge of Archenfield… but I think not. I recognize us as beings of the same tribe. The walls of this Princedom are too close to contain your own ambitions—just as they are ours.”
Still, Axel could not allow himself to breathe. What he could be offered was so much more than he had thought he could achieve. It seemed they weren’t just going to allow him to keep hold of the reins of Archenfield, but be a partner in the expansion of their empire. This was as tantalizing as it was unexpected.
“I sense I am talking your language,” Henning said. “And yes, we can, as you said before, talk terms and draw up a decree. But before we do so, there is one thing you need to understand. No one within Archenfield will be under any misapprehension that this Princedom is anything but a spoil of Paddenburg. There will, I’m afraid, be no glorious tales of Prince Axel’s first victory written in the history books.”
Ven nodded, glancing around the room. “There will be some significant changes to the palace. This mural, for instance, has to go. It won’t do any good reminding people of the way things were. It’s time to look forward, not backward.” He tapped the Prince’s Table. “I don’t think we have any need of this either,” he said. “On the whole, I’m not convinced by the idea of the Council of Twelve. It’s a little too democratic for my tastes.” He ran his fingers along the surface of the centuries-old table. “But this is good oak. It won’t go to waste. Winter is upon us and we shall have need of firewood.” He smiled at Axel’s shocked expression.
“The flag of Paddenburg will fly from the palace flagpole before darkness falls tonight,” Henning told Axel. “And these are just the first of the changes we must make, with your help. But here’s where your proposal is so persuasive to me… many of these changes may jar with the feelings and loyalties of the common man and woman. But you are right. They know you, they know your family. If you tell them that this is the way of things, they will heed your word. So yes, Axel, you may rule Archenfield for us.”
“You may even continue to call yourself Prince,” Ven assured him, “if it pleases you to do so.”
“Why wouldn’t I call myself Prince?” Axel asked. “I would be ruling the Princedom, even if I was sharing in the greater empire of Paddenburg.”
“Yes,” Ven acknowledged. “That is true. It’s just that, assuming we do proceed with this intriguing proposition, there is one further matter we need you to be made aware of.”
Henning nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
Axel didn’t like the sound of this. At all.
“You see, when we embarked on this ambitious mission of ours, a promise was made. And it is very important to my brother and me to uphold our promises.”
Axel nodded. “What kind of promise? To whom was it made?”
“Oh, it’s very simple, really,” Ven explained. “In exchange for successfully executing his mission, we told Logan Wilde that Archenfield would be his to do with as he wished.” He smiled. “And I think we can all agree that Logan was extremely successful in executing that mission.”
Axel could not believe what he was hearing. “So you told Logan that he would be Prince of Archenfield?”
“I don’t think he’s likely to be as hung up on terminology as you seem to be,” Henning observed. “But he will be running the Princedom. By all means, talk to Logan—work out an arrangement. We don’t need to get involved in that level of detail. If you want to be called Prince of All Archenfield, I doubt he’ll object. Just so long as we’re all clear that he’ll have the final say on, well, everything.”
Axel was, at last, speechless. He couldn’t even look upon the faces of the Princes of Paddenburg any longer. All his dreams lay in tatters, ground to dust. He turned instead to Elliot, who merely smiled and shrugged. Damn him and his traitor’s heart! Damn them all! Elliot and Logan and his sister, and the two demon Princes of Paddenburg. They would pay—they would all pay. The Wheel of Fortune might have turned against his favor for the moment, but that wheel had a habit of spinning fast, and he would find a way to give it a hefty nudge in the right direction.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll talk to Logan.”
Ven smiled brightly. “Speaking of Logan, I’m very keen to see him. I think our business here is concluded. I should now like to take possession of our rooms and catch up with Logan and Lydia.”
“Your rooms?” Axel inquired, caught off guard. “Would you like me to have one of the guest suites prepared for you?”
Henning smiled gratefully. “You’re very kind, Axel, but no, that wouldn’t be fitting under the circumstances. We’ll be taking up residence, for the time being, in the Prince’s Quarters.”
So, he was even to be denied the Prince’s Chamber. Only for now, he told himself. Whatever indignity they impose upon you, it’s only for now. Even so, the very thought of it made him retch. The minute he found a way to send them on their way, he’d have the entire palace fumigated.
“Let’s all reconvene for dinner—around nine?” Ven suggested. “I’ll leave you to talk to the Cook. I know that it’s customary to eat supper in Archenfield as soon as the sun sets, but our tastes are a little more sophisticated. I’m sure you will soon adapt.”
“I’m sure they will,” Henning said. The Princes of Paddenburg rose to their feet. Elliot rose too and lifted his hand in the Paddenburgian salute. The Princes returned it, then continued on their way.
Axel and Elliot were left alone in the Council Chamber. Axel waited until he heard the door slam shut behind them, then turned to his deputy.
But Elliot got in first: “You see?” he said with a smile. “They’re not so bad once you get to know them. Oh, I’ll grant you they have a few strange ways, Prince Ven in particular, but—”
“Shut up, Elliot!” Axel snapped, walking the length of the Prince’s Table.
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” Elliot said. “Don’t dare to address me in those tones. You are clinging to power here by a thread, and you really shouldn’t be under any illusions.”
Axel nodded. “I suppose, Elliot, that neither of us should be under any illusions.”
As Elliot nodded in return, Axel stepped closer and buried the small dagger he had been secreting in his hand deep into Elliot’s heart.
Elliot’s eyes widened with both shock and pain. “How are you going to explain that… to… to the two Princes?”
Axel smiled, pushing the knife deeper into Elliot’s flesh. “If you wish to worry about such matters in the few final minutes remaining to you on this earth, be my guest. Rest assured, you traitorous little bastard, I won’t be giving you another thought. Good night, sweet Elliot. May you rot in all eternity.”
Satisfied to see the weakness already overtaking Nash’s traitorous body, Axel pushed his bleeding deputy to the floor. “We don’t want your traitor’s blood staining the Prince’s Table, now, do we?” he asked.
&
nbsp; Looking down, he saw Elliot’s lips part slowly. Axel brought down his boot and pressed it against the hilt of the dagger. “No need to answer. It was a rhetorical question.”
FORTY-FOUR
The Queen’s Quarters, the Palace, Archenfield
“WE MAKE OUR OWN DESTINY, JARED,” ELIN SAID, looking out through her casement at movements in the grounds. “However dire events may seem, it is how we respond to them that matters.”
“Fighting talk, Mother!” Edvin said from his position on the edge of her bed.
Jared was considering how best to respond but was distracted by a knock on the door to the chamber. He looked to his mother. This was her room.
“Enter,” she called wearily.
A guard stepped across the threshold of the chamber. “Prince Jared,” he began, then broke off, as if embarrassed.
Elin stepped closer to the center of the room. “You are right to call him Prince Jared. Whether he is currently ruler of Archenfield or not, Jared is still a Prince and always will be.”
The guard nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.” His eyes returned to Jared’s as he resumed, with more confidence. “Prince Jared, Prince Axel wishes to meet with you in the Council Chamber at your earliest convenience.”
Jared nodded. “I’ll be there presently.”
“We’ll come with you,” Elin declared.
“Actually,” the guard said, directing his words to Jared, “Prince Axel asked to see only you, Your Highness.”
Elin now claimed the space between her son and the envoy. “You have delivered your message,” she said. “You may go now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The guard gratefully disappeared into the corridor.
“Perhaps it would be better if I met Axel on my own,” Jared said tentatively.
“Nonsense,” Elin said, shaking her head firmly. “In a time of crisis, the Wynyard family moves as one. Edvin and I will accompany you.”
“Yes, of course,” Edvin said, rising to his feet.
“What does Axel want from me now?” Jared wondered aloud. “What more is there left to take?” As he walked along the corridor, his mother and brother at his side, he saw that the palace was swarming with guards in the uniforms of Paddenburg. Two of them pushed briskly past the trio of Wynyards.