memory. While he seemed to be shaking the conditioning that kept him docile and unaware, his memory wasn’t showing any signs of returning anytime soon, apart from sending him the nudges and urges he needed to become more aware of the situation.
Now more determined than ever to get away from here as soon as possible, he allowed his face to go blank and sat unmoving, his mind working overtime as he waited to see what would happen next.
What would have happened next was anyone’s guess if something wholly and dramatically unexpected hadn’t superseded it.
Before anyone could move, and while Melissa’s hand was still in Astrin’s, the door opened and a man walked in. He was wearing royal livery and was in fact a messenger. He looked tense, as if he were holding himself in, keeping a strong emotion inside.
“My Lord Ragnor, there is an urgent message.”
“I was about to escort Prince Astrin back to his room. Can this not wait a few minutes?”
“I’m afraid not, my lord, and what I have to say affects him too.”
Startled and frowning, Ragnor spoke softly to Rowan, “Keep an eye on him.” Then he disappeared through the door with the messenger.
Astrin truly was frozen now, his eyes wide, and his heart hammering in his chest. Prince? Him? What was going on? Who were these people? What was he doing here? He felt as if somehow he’d slipped into another reality and nothing was quite real anymore—nothing except the burning desire to get away from them.
Quickly he weighed the chances of making it out of the door. They were slim at best. He’d have a much better chance when he was outside, especially if they thought he was still docile and obedient. Therefore he simply sat and waited, acknowledging no one and nothing while calculations clicked through his mind like beads on an abacus.
R OWAN WAS extremely disturbed and had been throughout dinner. After waking from his nap, Astrin had been a different person. At dinner he’d sparkled, and Rowan knew that bothered Ragnor, especially when Astrin started asking questions, receiving the answers with a shrewd and calculating expression as if they told him far more than the mere words expressed.
And if Astrin bothered Ragnor, he bothered Rowan twice as much, although not for the same reason. Slowly, over the course of the day, he’d found himself starting to like Astrin. As his respect and liking for the soft-spoken but charming young man grew, his guilt for the way he’d treated him and what was being done to him grew too.
By the time Rowan rose to leave, he’d begun to wonder if what they were doing was the right thing at all. Would it be so bad to stop this right now? Was Astrin really so dangerous that such extreme measures had to be taken to subdue him? Surely if they just talked to him…? He met Melissa’s eyes over Astrin’s head, and she shook hers.
“Don’t even think about it, Rowan. You have no idea.”
“But why not? Surely if we talk to him….”
“Rowan—”
Before she had the chance to say another word, the door opened and Ragnor came back, his face like thunder.
“Rowan… please sit down.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Ragnor looked uncertain. “I don’t know quite how to tell you this, and I’ve never been one for tact and diplomacy. I apologize for seeming cold, if that is how it comes across.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “There has been an attack on the Heart of the West. It is believed to have been carried out by members of House Michael, possibly aided by House Uriel, although there is no evidence at this time they were involved.”
“Uncle Charles,” Rowan exclaimed, knocking over the chair as he snapped to his feet.
“Sit down, Rowan,” Ragnor said quietly. After staring at him for a few moments, struggling with his internal emotions, Rowan sat down. “Thank you.”
Ragnor looked from Rowan, who was clearly angry and upset, to Melissa, who had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes,
Now more determined than ever to get away from here as soon as possible, he allowed his face to go blank and sat unmoving, his mind working overtime as he waited to see what would happen next.
What would have happened next was anyone’s guess if something wholly and dramatically unexpected hadn’t superseded it.
Before anyone could move, and while Melissa’s hand was still in Astrin’s, the door opened and a man walked in. He was wearing royal livery and was in fact a messenger. He looked tense, as if he were holding himself in, keeping a strong emotion inside.
“My Lord Ragnor, there is an urgent message.”
“I was about to escort Prince Astrin back to his room. Can this not wait a few minutes?”
“I’m afraid not, my lord, and what I have to say affects him too.”
Startled and frowning, Ragnor spoke softly to Rowan, “Keep an eye on him.” Then he disappeared through the door with the messenger.
Astrin truly was frozen now, his eyes wide, and his heart hammering in his chest. Prince? Him? What was going on? Who were these people? What was he doing here? He felt as if somehow he’d slipped into another reality and nothing was quite real anymore—nothing except the burning desire to get away from them.
Quickly he weighed the chances of making it out of the door. They were slim at best. He’d have a much better chance when he was outside, especially if they thought he was still docile and obedient. Therefore he simply sat and waited, acknowledging no one and nothing while calculations clicked through his mind like beads on an abacus.
R OWAN WAS extremely disturbed and had been throughout dinner. After waking from his nap, Astrin had been a different person. At dinner he’d sparkled, and Rowan knew that bothered Ragnor, especially when Astrin started asking questions, receiving the answers with a shrewd and calculating expression as if they told him far more than the mere words expressed.
And if Astrin bothered Ragnor, he bothered Rowan twice as much, although not for the same reason. Slowly, over the course of the day, he’d found himself starting to like Astrin. As his respect and liking for the soft-spoken but charming young man grew, his guilt for the way he’d treated him and what was being done to him grew too.
By the time Rowan rose to leave, he’d begun to wonder if what they were doing was the right thing at all. Would it be so bad to stop this right now? Was Astrin really so dangerous that such extreme measures had to be taken to subdue him? Surely if they just talked to him…? He met Melissa’s eyes over Astrin’s head, and she shook hers.
“Don’t even think about it, Rowan. You have no idea.”
“But why not? Surely if we talk to him….”
“Rowan—”
Before she had the chance to say another word, the door opened and Ragnor came back, his face like thunder.
“Rowan… please sit down.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Ragnor looked uncertain. “I don’t know quite how to tell you this, and I’ve never been one for tact and diplomacy. I apologize for seeming cold, if that is how it comes across.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “There has been an attack on the Heart of the West. It is believed to have been carried out by members of House Michael, possibly aided by House Uriel, although there is no evidence at this time they were involved.”
“Uncle Charles,” Rowan exclaimed, knocking over the chair as he snapped to his feet.
“Sit down, Rowan,” Ragnor said quietly. After staring at him for a few moments, struggling with his internal emotions, Rowan sat down. “Thank you.”
Ragnor looked from Rowan, who was clearly angry and upset, to Melissa, who had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes,
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