The Royals | A LVNDR Short Story
When dragons return to a kingdom hiding secrets, an unlikely alliance begins. Part 2/4 on LVNDR.
The King asked his brother to stay in the castle while they hosted their neighbors. The Knight declined the request. He knew Silas would keep everyone safe. Besides, Edwin hadn’t called the castle home in years and appreciated the distance. Needed the distance.
His mind wandered as he said goodnight to Lady, made a quick stew, and cracked the book he’d started open by his bedroom fireplace. While The Knight’s body shifted from task to task, his mind was haunted by thoughts of The Princess. The racing thoughts only slowed down once he’d read so late into the night that exhaustion overtook every other sense.
Placing his mother’s ribbon in the book to mark his spot, Edwin was putting out the fireplace when a shout rang from outside. Racing to the front door, he was surprised to find The Princess on the other side of it.
Rosalie only offered him a quick glance from within the hole he’d dug and hidden under a pile of leaves; too invested in scanning for every potential foothold along the roots and soil to escape her temporary prison. The Knight simply watched as The Princess considered her options before finally raising her chin to direct a pointed stare at Edwin before throwing her arm up in a silent demand.
Without a word, The Knight reached down, took The Princess’s hand, and lifted her onto shared ground. Their hands stayed clasped as she regained her footing and shook the dirt from her cloak.
“Are you serious?” Rosalie chastised, despite still catching her breath.
Edwin scrunched his brows together, focusing on each freckle of her face as if he could locate where the audacity was held. “You’re the one sneaking onto my property in the middle of the night.”
“You left this,” Rosalie stated in a pragmatic response as she handed over a small dagger, surprisingly poised despite having only been pulled from the literal mud.
“You stole this,” Edwin refuted, the hint of a loose smirk in direct contrast to Rosalie’s clenched jaw. He’d recognized the weapon, typically locked to his waist, was missing almost immediately, but wasn’t concerned. It was only as capable as the one who yielded it.
To his amazement, she didn’t double down on her lie.
“I did.” The Princess ran her hands across her cloak again, grimacing as they swept across her right upper thigh, where blood was breaking through a small slice in her leg. Rosalie hid the injury with her cloak and looked back up toward Edwin as if nothing had happened. “I needed a reason for the guards to give me your location.”
“You could have just asked.” Edwin opened the door wider. “Let me clean that up.”
A visible blush spread beneath Rosalie’s cheeks. “It’s just a scratch.”
“A scratch that could get worse.” Edwin sighed, placing a finger to his temple. “Would you prefer to walk or be carried?”
Rosalie looked around as if she could find a secret third option in the trees. Edwin took a single step forward in a lighthearted threat. The Princess quickly chose to step across the threshold on her own two feet, shooting the Knight a glare as she grazed past him.
“Are you sure you’re royalty?” Rosalie huffed, handing her cloak to Edwin, who hung it near the door.
“By blood only.”
Turning back towards her, Edwin was taken aback to see that Rosalie had replaced the velvet gown she had been wearing earlier with a tunic and pants. Stolen from one of her guards, most likely. The top was just sheer enough to make out the outline of her skin beneath. A realization they both seemed as if they were trying — and failing — to ignore.
“Take a seat,” The Knight offered, absently pointing a finger towards the living room. He wasn’t a stranger to his mind betraying him, but this was new territory. Somehow, being around Rosalie made his post-nightmare episodes seem like a walk in the park. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
The Princess hesitated just a moment before nodding and turning into the main room, where she perched on the leather chair in front of the fire while The Knight retreated to the kitchen. She had already used her tunic to clean the blood off the wound when he returned a few minutes later with a mug in each hand.
“Thank you.” Rosalie offered begrudgingly as she took the warm drink. Edwin could hear her breath catch as he knelt beside where she sat, trying to shift attention away from the scratch. “It’s looking much bet—”
The Princess’s sentence was cut off as the Knight laid his calloused palm gently on her upper leg.
“I know how to clean wounds.” Edwin offered in way of a request. When it was met with a short nod, he gently pushed back the cloth with his thumb to examine the injury.
“I’ve already cleaned it up.” Rosalie’s breathing had somehow become shallower.
Edwin picked a cloth and a bottle off the silver tray he’d brought their drinks on. “I can’t risk you getting an infection and having to explain this at the infirmary.”
“I can take care of it myself,” The Princess insisted through gritted teeth, making a halfhearted attempt to pull her leg back as the Knight uncorked a bottle. “Are you even listening to me?”
Edwin offered an equally halfhearted nod before dripping the liquid onto the wound. He held Rosalie’s leg still as her limb instinctively moved to kick him while a quick, sharp sting ran through it. A short burst of discomfort in exchange for its healing properties.
“You could have warned me.” Rosalie seized Edwin’s shoulder in her grip as the searing sensation cooled the torn skin. He wondered if her goal was to alleviate her own pain or simply to inflict an equal amount onto him.
“You were already complaining.”
“That’s not very chivalrous of you,” Rosalie snapped, propping herself up as Edwin tied the bandages off.
“Running through the forest in the middle of the night isn’t very regal of you.” Edwin’s hand squeezed her knee once before standing up and walking back towards the kitchen. “Besides, the rumor is that we’re going to war. I’d prefer you have two legs when we do.”
“I don’t have any plans of going to war with you.” The Princess looked genuinely shocked by his comment, but the Knight wouldn’t let her fool him.
“You know your brother is lying.”
The silence that fell between them was a beat too long.
“I’ll get your bed ready,” Edwin kept his voice carefully monotone, ignoring her comment entirely as he retreated towards his bedroom.
“I’m going back to the castle tonight.” Rosalie snarled, following him.
The Knight chuckled as he pulled fresh linens from the closet, not daring to look where The Princess fumed behind him. “You’re not going back to the castle in this state.”
“I’m not in a state.” Rosalie used the poised, indignant tone only learned in the walls of castles.
“You’re exhausted, and it’s impacting your judgement,” Edwin emphasized each syllable to stress the importance she follow along with the story he was creating. “It’d be irresponsible to allow you to leave here spouting delusions of overthrowing a king to anyone who will listen.”
“I’m not delusional,” Rosalie disputed, a dark calm overtaking her tone.
“Besides, it’s past curfew,” The Knight yawned, flipping through subjects until he found one that worked, refusing to engage in further debate. “You’ll need to stay here.”
The Princess snorted, genuine laughter escaping her lips. “Now, who’s the delusional one?”
“I’m as annoyed about it as you,” Edwin reasoned. “But you leaving my home in the middle of the night would be scandalous at best and treasonous at worst.”
“I’ll take the backroads,” Rosalie protested, striding towards the front door.
“I’ll call the guards myself.”
For the first time that night, she didn’t have a rebuttal.
“I’ll make your bed.”
Just past midnight, Edwin awoke to a scream. Springing from where he had been crumpled into the leather chair of his sitting room, he grabbed his dagger from the side table before slinking through the home, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards.
Slowly opening the bedroom door, he was relieved to find that — for the second time that night — the assumed intruder was just Rosalie.
Whatever comfort he found in finding The Princess quickly evaporated as he took in her state. Edwin rested a knee on the linen duvet as he leaned over to check for a fever. He relaxed upon confirming the wound hadn’t caused a fever, but didn’t find much relief knowing that whatever Rosalie was dealing with was all in her head.
Edwin knew what it felt like to experience nightmares, but for the first time, he learned what it looked like. Rosalie’s eyes still held the unfocused gaze of sleep, but her breathing was that of someone who’d just run a race.
The Knight moved his hand from The Princess’s forehead to the side of her head, pressing the tips of his fingertips against her hair. A gesture his mother used to offer him when he’d wake in a fit.
Astonishingly, she leaned into it, closing her eyes as she breathed in. The full body inhale signaling that it was time to return to the land of the living. Lucid, Rosalie pulled away from Edwin’s embrace, mumbling a stream of apologies before she was even fully conscious.
“No need,” The Knight insisted, shaking his head. Not wanting Rosalie to feel apologetic for her nightmares. Not wanting to explain how he knew the feeling better than most. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Rosalie pulled her shoulders up to her ears as if she could make herself so small that she was no longer perceivable.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Reading the room, Edwin stood up from the bed and turned to leave the room.
“Wait,” Rosalie rasped, reaching out to grab his hand. She pulled her arm back as if stunned at her own reaction before ultimately deciding she’d already shown all of her cards. “Would you mind staying? Just for a moment.”
Edwin sat back down on the linen quilt, but didn’t crawl underneath the sheets as he leaned against the wooden headboard. Rosalie mirrored him, relaxing into the support behind where she’d been sitting. Both stared at the carved wooden creatures in the crown molding.
“What was your nightmare about?” Edwin hesitantly broke the silence after a few breathless moments.
“Fire.” Rosalie didn’t need to say more for Edwin to know why she had those dreams. He was also a child when his grandfather’s obsession with conquering the other kingdoms culminated in a six-month war. No single kingdom was safe from destruction over those weeks. The only reason the death and destruction ended was that his father made the difficult, honorable decision to overthrow him.
It was the second scariest experience of The Knight’s life. The first was when his grandfather’s supporters came back a decade later to take his parents’ lives. Edwin and Rowan were only spared because Silas and his team took down the assailants before they could reach the brothers.
“I have them, too.” Edwin shared, knowing she was informed enough on his family’s history that he didn’t need to explain the origins. So engrossed in the vulnerability that came with discussing his nightmares for the first time as an adult, he barely noticed as The Princess reached down to take his hands in hers.
“Is that why you were at the apothecary?”
Edwin nodded, looking down at where their hands lay entwined across the sheets. It was The Princess’s turn to feel embarrassed. The action had been so subconscious that she barely recalled making it at all. Rosalie gave one hard squeeze before standing up from the bed.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
The Princess swung her legs off the bed to pull on her boots, mumbling about which path she’d take back to the castle when a twig cracked from outside. Edwin wrapped a hand around her mouth, holding her against his chest from where he now kneeled on the bed behind where she sat. He prayed his racing heart told her what she needed to know.
A hush had fallen over the grounds. Not that of night, but of hiding. Of every living thing staying silent to avoid an altercation with whatever lingered just beyond them.
There was someone outside.
The King had always had a temper. His chosen manner of relief was displacing the rage onto others. His reputation around the castled preceeded itself. The Knight tried to ignore how they bowed to him with the dipped head of an abused pet.
Which is why when The Knight opened the door to his brother, the bright smile contrasting the dark shadows of Rowan’s face sent a chill down Edwin’s spine.
“Where is she, brother?” The King pushed through into their parents’ cabin. The space was technically just as much his as Edwin’s, but it still made The Knight clench his teeth when his brother kicked at the table leg. “I still don’t know why our parents even kept this shack.”
Edwin watched carefully from the doorway as Rowan walked casually into the kitchen, making himself a glass of water as if he’d simply come over for dinner. Before The King could ask his question again, which the Knight was sure he would, a loud knocking rang from within his bedroom.
The King raised his eyebrows at Edwin in checkmate before striding off. The banging continued as Rowan followed it from the main room, into the bedroom, and to the source: a closet.
The King looked back at his brother, a disappointed confusion across his face just before turning back to the door, opening it. So excited to catch his prey that he hadn’t even noticed the door wasn’t locked.
To both brothers’ surprise, Rosalie looked relieved upon being found. Her wide eyes and frizzy hair the sight of someone who had been locked in the closet for hours.
“Thank the gods,” The Princess breathed, a facade of exasperation. “Can you help me get back to the castle?”