Page 72 of The Broken Prince
I rushed downstairs and opened the door. “I’m fine. See?”
There were three guards there, all armed to the teeth. “Princess Harlow, we’re here to escort you back to the castle.”
“Escort me?” I snapped. “I can walk my ass there all by myself—”
“Baby.” Aurelias’s calm voice appeared behind me. “Go with them.”
“This is ridiculous.” I walked out, and the guards followed behind me. We walked back to the castle and entered the grand room with the staircase. My mother was there, consternation in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re alright,” she said, her hands immediately squeezing my arms. “When you didn’t come down for breakfast, we were worried. I checked on you in your chambers, but you weren’t there… We assumed the worst.”
“Mother, I’m fine.” I tried to say it as calmly as possible, but the irritation was heavy in my voice. “That was completely unnecessary…and embarrassing.”
She pulled her hands away, her look guilty. “I told your father you were probably with Aurelias, but we live in uncertain times right now. It’s better to embarrass you than the alternative.”
I held my tongue and decided to let it go. Since I’d been taken before, I guessed it was reasonable to fear I’d been taken again. “In the future, if I’m not home in the morning, just assume I’m with Aurelias.”
My mother took a deep breath, like she was prepared to venture into uncomfortable territory. “Harlow, we’re at war right now. I don’t think it’s the best time for you to run off whenever you feel like it. If this were a couple months ago, we’d be having a very different conversation.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, shocked that my mother, of all people, would say what I thought she was about to say. “That I can’t stay over anymore?”
She avoided my gaze for a moment. “I think it’s best if we all stay together under one roof.”
“Mother—”
“Harlow.”
“I know you’re the one talking, but I can hear Father’s voice.”
Her hands came together at her waistline. “Would you rather speak to him about this? Because I can promise you it would be the most uncomfortable conversation for you both.”
I looked away, knowing how tense and awkward that would be.
“It’s a reasonable request considering the circumstances, considering that you were taken before. Your father wants to keep us safe. That’s all.”
“And don’t you think being with Aurelias is the safest place I can be?”
Her eyes flashed in offense. “Aurelias may have abilities your father lacks, but I have no doubt that your father’s intellect triumphs his—every time.”
“I didn’t mean to insult Father—”
“We’re your family. He’s not.” Now her stare was cold. “Your place is here, with us, always. This discussion is over.”
I wanted to push back, to seize my independence, but I knew my mother was not a woman to be trifled with when she was like this. She may be the voice of my father, but she clearly shared his opinion. “Alright, then.”
* * *
I didn’t see Aurelias that night. Even though I understood my parents’ perspective, I was still frustrated by the situation. I’d been an adult for years, had been selected to inherit the crown over my brother, but I didn’t have the full autonomy I craved. Aurelias was a temporary affair, but if that was true and we could all die tomorrow, I wanted to enjoy every moment of our nights together. It was the only time I had with him, when duty and family obligations required me to be in the castle throughout the day.
I sat on the nook at my window and looked out over the horizon, still seeing the scorch marks from the pyres that had burned our people as well as our enemies. The scene looked different now, the blades of grass black from the battle. Summer had been hot, so the heat had dried all the water from the surface.
A knock sounded on the door.
“It’s open.”
My father opened the door, a king in his armor and weapons, his presence distinctive and formidable. He and Aurelias both had that kind of energy, the kind that could change the tone of a room just by stepping into it. “Atticus is up and about.”
“He is?” I turned from the window to look at him. “That’s great news.” But that also meant we would be leaving soon—and maybe for the last time. I might never see this castle again. Even if we won the war, it might be destroyed by the time we returned. This very castle could be crumbled into a pile of stone.