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To protect the Godstone and all peoples who chose to live near it, the Godstone bequeathed immense powers to one member of the Talos family. Queen Amara was the chief protector of the Godstone and wielder of its power, though the Queen had given him a small sliver of her gifts. When she died, he would take her place and pledge his allegiance and life to the Godstone.
He wasn’t in any rush to receive those powers either. The Godstone represented yet another noose around his neck.
There was still too much he didn’t understand about the Godstone, and his mother refused to talk about it. Always with the same excuse. “When you’re older, I’ll tell you everything.” He just prayed she remembered when she was on her deathbed and he was in his fifties.
Not surprisingly, the wielder of the Godstone’s powers was also the one who wore the Erya crown. With that much power, who better to protect the kingdom?
Caelan passed down the hall with the meticulously created parquet floor, his steps muffled by the thick carpet. He peeked into room after room, but he finally saw signs of life exactly where he’d expected to find her. Her library.
But instead of sitting behind the large oak desk that had supposedly belonged to his grandfather, King Evrain Talos, Queen Amara was standing in front of the windows, staring out at the city that was spread in front of her in a blanket of twinkling multi-colored lights. Caelan stared at her, taking in her stiff and severe clothing. Her long, straight black skirt brushed her ankles while her blouse was also black with hints of a deep emerald green. The same shade as the Godstone. It was also the royal color of Erya.
A few feet away, Hagen stood, his expression ever serious, but there was also a hint of worry in his eyes. The man had been the other constant in Caelan’s life. He’d served as Amara’s bodyguard well ahead of Caelan’s birth. Flecks of gray wove through his dark-brown hair at the temples and there were a few more lines around his mouth, but Caelan wasn’t sure if he was forty or sixty. Maybe older.
Either way, he always looked good in his austere black-and-green uniform. Head held high and broad shoulders straight, as though he were prepared to carry the weight of the world alone if it made Amara’s life easier.
Hagen turned toward Caelan and bowed. “Your Highness,” he greeted.
“Hagen,” he said with a nod.
Despite being the prince, he’d heard the rumors. Hagen Sigurd was the only person who was “close” to his mother. And he meant mostly in physical proximity rather than emotional closeness. Caelan wasn’t entirely sure that anyone was emotionally close to his mother. People also believed he was Caelan’s father.
He wasn’t sure he saw it. Maybe their jaws were similar. A certain sharpness to both their noses.
And even if Hagen was his father, did it matter?
Hagen was, first and foremost, the protector of the queen of Erya. The rest just wasn’t important enough. Hagen had his job. Caelan had his.
“I’m sorry to disturb your evening out,” Amara began, surprising him that she’d even apologized for it.
Caelan covered his shock by bowing to his mother, his right hand covering his heart. “I am always happy to serve Erya in any capacity I can.” When he straightened, he thought he saw a hint of a smirk twisting up her lips in her reflection in the windows, but the expression was gone too quickly. She turned and crossed toward her desk, but stopped beside it, frowning at the papers scattered across the top.
“I need to send you to Caspagir,” she announced.
Caelan’s mouth fell open, and his heart sped up. That was…unexpected. During his lifetime, he’d been sent several times to their ally Ilon to help with a variety of causes—whether they were fighting animals invading for the Ordas, or more recently, coordinating efforts to deflect Empire soldiers.
Caspagir was technically an ally, but they didn’t like to talk much, and they certainly didn’t spend a lot of time exchanging diplomats. He didn’t think he’d ever heard of his mother traveling to Caspagir.
“Your Majesty, would you like me to step outside?” Hagen offered when she seemed to hesitate.
Amara’s head snapped up and she frowned, giving a shake of her head. If anything, his mother seemed distracted. Caelan had never seen her quite like this, and it was unsettling. He’d never realized how much he’d come to rely on her cool, collected reserve. Amara was always amazingly focused and confident in everything she did. Something was going on.
“No, stay. You may be able to help shed some light on the situation for Caelan.” The decision seemed to help her gather her thoughts together; she sank into the chair behind the desk and Hagen took a step closer, coming to stand behind her left shoulder.
