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The figure regarded him a moment without even the slightest inkling of remorse or mercy. “You always were so dramatic, Henry. Forever playing the martyr of selfless sacrifice.”
Henry hung his head and pinched his eyes closed. “You have won. What more do you want?”
“This is far from over.” His captor hung the lantern and stepped into the light.
Francis.
Indignation filled him. Henry struggled, wasting what little strength remained in fighting against unmovable iron chains. “You son of a bitch! Lying coward. Crispin was right to distrust you.”
Francis tutted, meeting his gaze steadily. “Is that any way to speak to the rightful King of Meradin?” The flicker of the lantern light lent his eyes a sinister glow.
“You are not my king,” Henry spat. “You will never be king.”
“I am, and I will.” He tapped his gloved fingers on the hilt of his dagger.
“You may as well kill me now.” The fury simmered beneath his skin. “I will do everything in my power to stop you.”
“Death would be far too simple for either of you. Oh no, this is only the first battle in a long siege. And you both have your roles to play.” Francis sneered, the scars on his face pulling tight.
“What have you done to Ruby?” Henry growled.
“I have rooted out the evil.” Those glowing eyes intensified. “Removed the abomination growing in her womb.”
“Oh, God,” Henry muttered as the horrific implication of his confession registered in his mind. The screams of agony. The sobbing. He whispered a prayer. Ruby suffered alone, and there was nothing he could do to offer comfort or hope.
“In time, I shall replace it with the true heir to the kingdom of Meradin.” Francis’s ominous words filled Henry with revulsion. His stomach clenched and roiled. Had there been anything within it, it would have spilled forth.
“She placed her faith in you, and you betrayed her. You betrayed us all.” Horror flooded him. “What kind of monster have you become? What has twisted your soul to engage in such evil?”
“I am as I have always been.” His mocking laugh echoed through the narrow cell. “You chose to see what you wished to see, not what was truly before you.”
Memories assailed Henry. Visions of them training. In celebration. In grief. In battle. Together, as a group, Henry, Crispin, Francis, Simon, Jacob, and Timothy. Inseparable, undefeated, feasting on their glorious accolades. But Francis was always the golden heir. The hope and pride of all Meradin. Had he fooled them all? Hiding the truth of his dark and twisted soul from those closest to him with such clever manipulation.
“You were never cruel, Francis.” Henry shook his head. “Whatever happened that night, it warped your soul.”
“That fire stole everything from me!” Francis hissed, his scarred face twisted in hatred. It softened a fraction as he attempted to control his emotions. Henry saw the battle raging within him, reflected in the depths of those familiar eyes. “But it was also a rebirth.”
Henry stared at him in disbelief. “We mourned you. All of us. Crispin bore the brunt of the guilt for your demise.”
“Crispin is no saint, no hero. He bears no grief or guilt for my fate,” Francis snapped.
With all his might, Henry lunged off the bed at his captor. The chains snapped tight, jerking him to the floor. He collided with the stones in a heap, pain shooting through his limbs.
Francis’s laughter filled the room. “Save your strength. You will need it for what is coming.”
The soft glow of the lantern led Francis from the cell. He closed the door behind him. Laughter echoed down the corridor beyond the door mocking him.
Henry lay on the cool floor, letting it warm his overheated face. How could he have been so blind? So foolish? Had he not been distracted with Ivy, he would have been able to see through Francis’s lies? But who would have believed him?
Crispin would have. He saw through the deception the very moment Henry brought Francis back to the castle.
He beat his head against the stone as a sob welled up in his chest. Henry could have stopped him. But his lust distracted him from his vow to protect the king and queen. Now they all suffered the consequences of his failings.
Hope had not vanished completely. It glowed like a beacon on the distant horizon. Ruby was alive. Francis had no intention to kill them outright. He required them to play a role in his plans.
A smile curled his cracked lips making him wince. Aye, there was still hope.
Francis’s words rang clear in his mind. Henry would save his strength. He would need it to cut the bastard’s traitorous throat.
