Page 1 of Dawn of Hope

PROLOGUE

Silence enveloped the throne room, the chaos of the night left behind. Shadows fell across the floor, casting the once lively room in a blanket of despair. It was as if the room knew what had happened just a short time ago and was already in mourning for the kingdom’s loss.

The king entered the room, his feet shuffling and scraping along the stone floor. He walked past the first chair and averted his eyes to the floor. It was too soon. It was too painful. He couldn’t deal with the pain yet.

He had other things to focus on.

The king dropped his body onto his throne, sinking into the familiar cushions and soft fabric. He’d been intimate with it for far too long, longer than most kings, especially at his age.

His shoulders slumped as he looked down at the small body he cradled in his arms. The soiled blankets had been replaced with clean and soft ones, enough to keep the baby warm in the absence of her mother.

He gazed into her face. He had been consumed with joy the day he found out he would have this face to look upon, but now it brought a mixture of emotions.

Mostly pain.

Loss.

But also gain.

This moment was supposed to be the happiest of his life, gazing into the face of his beautiful baby girl, the princess that he would raise to take his place. He hoped he would have more time with her than he had with his own father, enough to prepare her for what was to come in her life and give her far more preparation than he had.

That moment was stolen from him.

A single tear slid down his cheek, but he refused to wipe it away.

Quiet footsteps approached from the doorway and stopped in front of him.

“The baby?” The words were soft and full of concern. The king did not startle at the voice. He was too familiar with it. He’d known it since he was a boy.

“Lives,” he answered solemnly, without pulling his eyes away from her. Her face scrunched in a quick look of discontent before softening and slumbering again.

The man took a few steps closer. “A girl or a boy?”

“A girl.” The king knew he did not have to be long winded with the man. He knew him well enough to hear the meaning behind words. “Lennox.”

“Like her mother wanted,” the man whispered.

The king nodded, another silent tear falling down his cheek. He was not afraid of the man seeing the tear or seeing him weak. The king hid nothing from him.

“And the queen?”

The king did not answer. He sat staring at his daughter, trying to find the words.

“The healers say she is alive. Her body lives, but her mind…” He trailed off, feeling the same stabbing pain in his chest from before, when he heard he had lost her. He continued. “They do not know what will come of her mind, or if she will ever wake. Yet her body lives. For how long is unknown.”

The man closed the distance between the king and the throne and placed his hand on the king’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

The king turned toward the touch, acknowledging the sincerity in it.

“Has he been found?” The king asked.

“Not yet, but he will be,” the man said as he removed his hand from the king. “The castle is being searched, and patrols are headed out into the city as we speak.”

“Good.”

The man stepped forward in front of the king and looked down into the face of the baby. “She will need to be protected.”