True Mates Page 4

  As if sensing Philip’s gaze, Jaeger glanced toward him, looking away quickly before returning to stare. A myriad of emotions flickered across Philip’s face and Jaeger’s stomach twisted in a painful knot. He’d known it would be hard to stand before everyone, watching as Philip met his soon to be bride. What he hadn’t known, was just how hard it would be, to see Philip looking more handsome than ever, a man to be admired and desired. Anyone watching Philip would either want him, or want to be him, and Jaeger would be forced to let his friend go.

  Philip’s expression faltered, and the light in his eyes dimmed. Jaeger allowed himself a brief smile, knowing it was probably as heartbroken as he felt. Understanding of the worst kind came into Philip’s face and he looked down at the floor. If anyone witnessed it, they kept their peace. Orrin and the King were distracted by the sound of trumpets, announcing the arrival of the northern retinue, and the eyes of the personal guard were all fixed across from them, being there but seeing nothing. The moment was for both him and Philip, and Jaeger would swear he heard their hearts break.

  “Presenting Princess Minerva of Caer Carinal, future Queen of the Northern provinces, heir to the throne,” the herald cried as the trumpets stopped.

  With great effort, Jaeger forced himself to look down the aisle to where the Princess and her retinue were slowly making their way towards the throne. She was undeniably beautiful, and he didn’t miss the intense stare of more than a few men in the crowd. Princess Minerva smiled, waving regally to the crowd as she walked. Jaeger didn’t trust that smile, finding it beautiful but icy, something about her felt sharp and dangerous. Still, the nobility were already fawning, waving back to the Princess with greater vigor than she gave them.

  Fearing what he would see, Jaeger looked up toward Philip. Shock jolted him as he saw the dumbfounded expression on Philip’s face. Jaeger’s heart thundered in his chest, and for a moment, he feared he was witnessing Philip love-struck. As Jaeger watched, his breathing ragged, he realized it had nothing to do with any sort of affection or awe. The Prince looked as if someone had clubbed him unexpectedly in the back of the head and was trying to gather his wits once more.

  There was a murmuring, and to Jaeger’s surprise, he realized it was coming from the personal guards beside him. Personal guards were meant to be seen, but that was it. A symbol of eternal, vigilant protection which must always encircle the royal family at all times. For any of them to break protocol was shocking, and Jaeger turned to see what they were staring at.

  Their gaze led him once more to the Princess, who was now nearly at the bottom of the stairs. She wasn’t so beautiful as to render the Prince awestruck and bring the personal guards to break protocol, not in Jaeger’s assessment. Unnerved, Jaeger looked at the Princess, his breathing stopping when she looked directly at him.

  For a moment, the illusion of staring into a mirror washed through him. The color and even the very shape of the Princesses’ eyes were identical to Jaeger’s. Though her features were unmistakably elegant and feminine, Jaeger could see echoes of himself. The northern blood was strong in her, and her dark eyes searched his face without a flicker of interest or surprise. Jaeger was glad he had simply locked his expression into one of stoic disinterest as he watched the Princess with morbid fascination.

  The Princess could have been his twin.

  Chapter Three

  Philip

  The noise of the crowd talking in the dining hall echoed loudly. The cavernous hall bounced even the slightest sound around, and with every noble present in the hall, it was positively overwhelming.

  The sound, and Philip’s irritation, wasn’t helped by the constant chatter of the Princess’ circle of regents. Every single regent was dressed to look their best, but Philip didn’t think it did a thing to enhance their personalities. Each of them had managed to find a way during the opening feast to irritate him. As time had passed, none of their flaws had dissipated, only growing until he wanted to find a way to gag them.

  Grecon was a stout woman in her thirties, who had all the decorum of a half-tamed beast, and from the way she kept eyeing the silver goblets, Philip suspected she was a greedy sort as well. Dribladd was curious to the point of being nosy, having any number of intrusive questions at the ready, and an ever-present flick of spittle on her lips. Vriegel was a little older than Philip, but so lewd and boisterous Philip wondered if she’d been raised by sailors. Kannity was quiet, a woman in her late twenties, but there was a gleam in her eyes that Philip disliked. His suspicions about the woman’s nature worsened when he watched her eyes light up at a particularly gruesome war story one of the local lords had told. Worst of them all was Mavist, the only male in the group, and a sorcerer. The man was just as hawk like and unlikable as the Court Conjurer, and Philip didn’t like the way he never kept his gaze too far from either himself or the King.

  In truth, the regents seemed more interested in him than the Princess herself was. Minerva kept her eyes on anything but Philip as they walked around before the feast began. Her voice was high and full of a girlish titter as she laughed at a joke. Philip had to admire the grace with which she carried herself, and she seemed to play the game of diplomacy with the nobles better than many he’d seen before.

  Her poise and dignity didn’t extend to her regents it seemed. Very quickly, he noticed how little attention she paid them. Certainly, she would cast them a look or comment if they spoke to her directly. If she wasn’t acknowledging Philip’s presence, the regents had to outright force her to mind them.

  With his arm locked around hers, he spoke to her softly. “If you continue to pretend I’m little more than a piece of decoration for your arm, the people will begin to wonder if we love each other at all.”

  “The people will say what they want, and last I checked, you’re supposed to look as dashing as possible. You may want to try a little harder,” she told him under her breath as she smiled at a hailing noble.

  Philip blinked, insulted and impressed with the derision she’d managed to cram into such a soft sentence. “I see the journey has been long and hard on you.”

  From somewhere behind them, one of the regents laughed, a high, shrill sound which felt like an ice pick drilling into the center of Philip’s head. If the tightening around Minerva’s eyes was any indication, she wasn’t pleased either. Her expression never faltered however, and she continued her rounds as they moved to the head table at the back of the long dining hall.

  “You don’t have to worry about my wellbeing. A long journey might seem arduous to you, but we’re made of stern material in the north,” she assured him.

  The verbal jab landed as intended, and Philip’s attempts to be polite stopped with a clench of his jaw. If the retinue of regents around her were any indication, the Princess was not the sort of person he wanted to attempt idle conversation with. She seemed more at home playing a role for the people who fawned over her for her favor, rather than attempting to reach out to the man she would soon be married to.

  Despite his decision, he pulled out the chair meant for her, offering it to her. Minerva’s gaze was cool as she placed herself in the seat with delicate movements. Every eye in the room seemed to be on the two of them, and she graced him a smile as she lay her hands on the table. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and Philip returned it, hoping it was far more believable than hers had been.

  They were on display for the entire court to see, so Philip kept the smile on his face and lay his hand near hers. Neither of them closed the distance between their fingers, but they both beamed down at the crowd. Excited chatter bounced off the walls as the nobles gossiped and fawned over the two of them. Through the din, he could hear compliments of how beautiful and noble a couple they looked.

  Philip snorted softly. “How nice to know we look good together.”

  “Appearances are everything,” Minerva replied stiffly.

  Philip glanced at her, detecting the thread of tension in her voice. She never looked at him, but he watched
her eyes flit to the nearby table where her regents were sitting. To Philip, if werespiders ever existed, he’d bet the regents had the highest chance of being some. They had yet to overtly do anything to alert him, but there was something about them which stunk of manipulation. It was either his instincts picking up on intrigue, or his dislike of the entire ordeal painting the picture for him, he couldn’t decide.

  To make matters worse, Jaeger had been positioned behind the Princess. Philip’s view of his best friend, impossibly handsome in his ceremonial gear, was complete every time he glanced at Minerva. It was impossible to look at his bride to be without seeing Jaeger in the background, close enough to hear anything and everything they shared with each other.

  The expression on Jaeger’s face as the two of them had caught their gazes before Minerva appeared, had been one of utter heartbreak. Philip had anticipated pain, but he hadn’t known how much it would hurt. The herald’s cry, signaling Minerva’s appearance, might as well have been a call to death for Philip as he gazed down at Jaeger. The two of them had held each other’s gaze for as long as they could, trying to communicate everything in that one stare.

  The similarities between the Princess and Jaeger had jarred him from his morose thoughts. With Jaeger standing only a couple of feet behind the Princess, the similarities and differences between them couldn’t have been more apparent to Philip. They had the same eyes, though Philip had never seen Jaeger’s gaze as cold and uncaring as the Princess’. Though Jaeger’s nose was broader than Minerva’s slimmer one, the shape was almost identical. Their jawlines were set at the same angle, in fact everything between them seemed to be similar, with Minerva’s elegant and feminine, while Jaeger’s was strong and masculine.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Philip asked her, if only to distract himself from his thoughts.

  “No, I’m on a fast, I’m allowed only air for my meals,” came Minerva’s terse reply.

  Philip eyed her, raising a brow, before motioning to the nearby servant. “Wine for us if you would, the gold.”

  Minerva eyed the glass of wine passed to her, taking in its distinctive yellow hue. “One of your infamous southern wines?”

  “A great deal less bitter than the products of your cold land,” Philip told her coolly.

  She grasped the glass lightly, sipping it. “It will serve, so long as it isn’t as weak as it tastes.”

  In another time and place, Philip might have appreciated the woman’s refusal to play nice. Her wit however, was beginning to grate on his nerves. They were meant to appear to be a warm and happy couple, and she was intent on making the task as difficult as possible for Philip. To disguise his irritation, he raised his glass as if in toast, and downed the entire contents. Still smiling, he held the empty glass out to be filled again, wondering how many false toasts he could make before the alcohol began to work as intended.

  Philip could hear murmuring from his father’s direction, and he leaned forward to see Orrin speaking with the King. The King was nodding, finishing the last of his drink before standing. The show of the King on his feet was all it took for the general chatter in the room to die down. Philip had always been amazed when his father’s presence was sufficient to beget respect from any who saw him. As a boy, he dreamed he might one day be the kind of king who could silence a room with a glance, while still loved by his subjects.

  King Vernal cleared his throat, grinning wide. “A warm welcome to my subjects, and an equally warm welcome to our guests. Princess Minerva, I have been long awaiting the chance to bring our two kingdoms together in the hope of creating a lasting peace between us. Now, as we bring you together with my son, I am warmed by the sight of you, filled with hope for the future.”

  The Princess inclined her head, smiling graciously. “And you, your Grace, honor me with such a bright and cheerful welcome. I speak for those who traveled the many miles here with me in saying, that we appreciate the hospitality you have shown us.”

  “And what finer a time to begin the celebration of what I hope is an eternal peace and cooperation between our two great nations, than on the eve of Christmas. It is a time when the earth fades into a deep sleep, ready to awaken again in the spring. And here, on the eve of that great sleep, we find a new dream, one of peace, and of love,” Vernal continued, motioning to Minerva and Philip.

  It was a nice speech, and Philip was listening intently. He was distracted only by the sight of Orrin speaking quietly to the regents sitting beside him. The sorcerer apparently had wasted no time in getting to know the visitors from the north, and from the looks of it, was already getting along quite well with them. Philip wasn’t surprised that his least favorite person in his kingdom had found a way to make friends with his least favorite guests. Minerva had glanced at them as well, and her only show of emotion was the thinning of her lips.

  The King however, hadn’t noticed, and continued. “However long the earth may sleep, we are here. We bring warmth, fires burn in all the hearths, and songs echo up and down the halls. As the life fades to a quiet whisper outside, so do we make it all the brighter and louder in our home. We…you…bring life to this place, and with our guests…we have new excitement…”

  Philip’s eyes had drifted over the crowd of nobles as his father had given the customary speech. The stuttering of the King’s voice brought his attention back to Vernal in alarm. His breath stopped short as he caught the lines in his father’s forehead, the light in his gaze becoming foggy and unclear.

  Philip glanced behind them catching Jaeger’s wide stare. The horror shining from Jaeger’s eyes told Philip his suspicions were true, and he wasn’t simply being paranoid. His father’s voice had slipped from its confident mien to a stuttering, unsure pattern.

  Looking back, his heart sank as his father stared down the long stretch of the dining hall with wide, uncertain eyes. Despite having been fine for the entire day, his father was slipping into one of his lost and confused moments.

  The King shook his head, as if trying to rattle his thoughts into place. “We…what do we do? We’re all here, and we’re supposed to be but…we’re not all here, are we? Where is Tara?”

  Philip’s eyes closed at the sound of his mother’s name, now knowing where his father’s thoughts were wandering. Christmas had always been the hardest on his father since his mother’s passing. It had been his mother’s favorite time of year, the joy and warmth which filled the castle. King Vernal tried to keep the same light and happiness after she’d passed, but Philip had always sensed the pain in his father during the celebration.

  Sorcerer Orrin cleared his throat. “Yes, here is to those we have lost who are no longer with us. May our continued lives warm their memory and keep them dear.”

  King Vernal glanced at Orrin, his eyes shining. “But where is my Tara? My golden-haired beauty…”

  “Father,” Philip whispered, hoping the King could hear him.

  Vernal looked down at him, even more confused. “You…are you my son? You can’t be, you’re supposed…Philip is only a boy. I have to find him, he doesn’t understand what’s happening.”

  Philip’s mouth opened and closed, whatever he’d had in mind to say to comfort his father, lost. The King continued to look around, appearing as if he might run from the table in search of the Philip who had grown up long ago. King Vernal’s bottom lip quivered, and fear was written all over his face, fear and pain.

  Orrin raised his glass. “To the Prince, and his future bride, Princess Minerva. And of course, to our wise and benevolent lord, King Vernal Chrysomon!”

  Though it had the intended effect of pulling the attention of every noble in the hall, Philip’s hatred of the sorcerer grew even stronger. His father shrunk back into his seat, tears streaming down his face as he murmured into his lap. The whole of King Vernal’s body shook with barely restrained sobs, as he clenched his hands together in a valiant attempt to regain control of himself.

  His father was no more the strong and proud leader Philip had
grown up watching lead the kingdom. The quick wit and ever-present wisdom was gone, replaced by quivering fear and eternal confusion. Philip was watching his father die the worst death—death of the self—and it was happening slowly, on display, for everyone to witness. There would come a time when his father would slip into one of his lost moods, and he would never come out again.

  Four of their personal guards moved forward, speaking softly to the King to coax him from his seat. King Vernal gave Philip a wary look as he stood, following after the guards with slumped shoulders and fearful glances over his shoulder. To Philip, the once noble leader looked like a little boy being dragged off to his punishment.

  A warm hand lay over his, and Philip’s head jerked away from the doorway his father had been led through. Princess Minerva’s small hand rested gently over his, her fingers curling around his palm and squeezing gently. Philip looked up, startled to find warmth in her face, and a cringe of sympathy passing over her features. Caught in the moment of his father’s degradation, Philip had allowed his pain to flash across his features and the Princess had seen it. The cold aura around her had disappeared in that moment, and her dark eyes looked kind, almost as warm as Jaeger’s when he looked at Philip.

  Jaeger was still behind her, and he was watching the two of them with wide eyes. When his friend looked up, Philip took a deep breath and nodded. The sudden presence of humanity in the Princess and the affection in Jaeger’s gaze was enough to enable him to rally himself. With his father gone, it would be on Philip to carry the rest of the night, no matter how hollow his chest felt as he cleared his throat.

  A titter came from the table of regents, and it was Kannity he heard speak. “Oh, our little princess of ice has found it in her heart to warm to the little prince.”

  Dribladd joined in the laughter. “Does she mean it, or is she just putting on a little show for the people looking on?”