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Chapter Twelve
Rage and relief consumedhim simultaneously. Ruby stood before him clad in his brother’s decadent colors. The gentle curves of her face lay gaunt and shadowed, haunted by events he could not possibly attempt to understand. The desire to reach for her compelled him.
Holding her gaze, he stepped forward. The chains binding his hands rattled and pulled tight as he reached for her.
Francis pulled her closer. She flinched at his touch, turning her face away from him in disgust.
“I will not tell you again.” Crispin demanded, “Release her.”
The rising tide inside pushed him closer to action. He cursed his bonds and longed for the firm grip of his sword. His gaze lingered on Francis’s hand where it rested on Ruby’s arm. He wanted nothing more than to separate it permanently from his person. Just the knowledge of what terror his brother must have wrought upon her to wipe the brilliance from her smile and the light from her eyes left him engulfed in fury.
“Myqueen is precisely where she belongs.” Francis’s mangled smile and the flash of determination in his blue eyes infuriated Crispin further. Ruby trembled beside him.
Crispin waited until her gaze met his once more. She tipped her chin up, but he did not miss the silent tears staining her cheeks. His once valiant warrior queen stood battered and bruised before him, yet she refused to break. He took hope in this small gesture. The desire to take her into his arms nearly brought him to his knees. But he would not concede defeat to Francis, not while a breath remained in his body.
“What have you done to her?” He redirected his ire toward the man responsible for their suffering.
“I have restored balance. Purged the wicked seed growing inside her and prepared her to take her rightful place beside me.” Francis’s response echoed with confidence and pride.
The implication of his words nearly passed by unnoticed. Crispin bristled as the meaning took root in his mind.
Ruby’s hand moved to cover the lower part of her stomach, where their child grew inside her. Her gaze slipped away from his, and the tears fell freely, dripping onto the floor. She swiped them away. Francis held her tight beside him.
“You bastard!” Crispin loosed the fury inside him. He bolted forward uncaring of the chains or the guards surrounding him. He stopped short of his brother’s reach when the cold press of two blades touched his throat. A warm trickle of blood ran down his chest beneath his garments. He ignored the pain and temporary discomfort. There would be vengeance for Francis’s unspeakable betrayals.
“Give me an excuse to kill you. I beg you.” Francis grinned. “’Twould make my claim even stronger.” He studied Crispin with unbridled pleasure.
“Forgive me, my liege. I failed to protect them.” Henry’s broken voice echoed behind him.
Crispin could not bear to look at his companion or his bride. The anguish proved too much. Instead, he focused solely on the man responsible for the destruction of everything he held sacred. He imagined driving a blade straight through his brother’s heart, watching the life drain from his eyes and bathing in the satisfaction of ridding the world of his tainted soul.
“On my honor, I will rip your heart from your chest as atonement for what you have done,” Crispin growled, allowing the darkness to pulse through him. “You are no longer the honorable man I once knew if you ever truly were.” He watched the amusement fade from Francis’s scarred visage. “What evil must have tarnished your soul to the point you would kill an innocent, savage your own blood, and steal what you do not deserve?”
Francis pressed his lips together and cocked his head in contemplation. “What difference is my quest from your own? Have kings not utilized such methods for centuries, garnering empires beyond imagination? Who am I to deny my birthright and shun the same methods which have ensured the survival of my ancestors for generations?”
Crispin could not argue with his logic, no matter how flawed and brutal it seemed. Bloodshed and betrayal littered the battlefields and ruins of empires dating back to the beginning of time. He held his brother’s gaze.
“Why did you not come forward years ago? Father would have welcomed you with open arms.” Crispin scoffed. “His golden child returned from the dead.”
“My recovery prevented my return. Life proceeded as though I never existed, but this time spent in waiting brought me invaluable insights and led me down the path I was meant to follow.” A wicked smile claimed Francis’s lips. “Watching your decline into disgrace proved far too entertaining. You played your role to perfection. A fallen prince hellbent on hedonism and drowning in self-indulgence. I could not have planned it better myself.”
Crispin recoiled more at the statement than the twisted visage before him.
“I watched as you brought yourself ruin. You alone proved yourself unfit to be ruler of Meradin. Even Father recognized your inability to rise to his high standards and fill the role I left vacant.” Francis’s cold laugh made his blood chill. “Is that why you killed him?”
Ruby gasped. A muttered curse came from Henry. Crispin refused to react. Francis was baiting him, leading him to confess. He focused solely on the lying bastard and narrowed his gaze.
“I did not kill him.” Crispin embraced the silence following his declaration.
Francis tutted and released Ruby who stumbled away from both of them, bracing herself against the wall. “Come now. You may not have killed him with your own blade, but ’twas your impetuous order that sealed his fate.”
