Promising Hope (21 page)

He walked to the cauldron in the middle of the room,
and the men backed away. “What are you brewing here?” he asked.

“It’s nothing, your Highness,” the man said.

“What’s your name?”

“Me? I’m Cobb.”

“Cobb,” William repeated. He pointed at the cauldron
and its bubbling black liquid. “What is this?”

“It’s a simple truth potion,” Cobb said, folding his
hands in front of him. He glanced towards the door. “How did you
know we’d be in here, your Highness?”

“I didn’t. I merely walked in.” He know Tisha had
been using these rooms, and he wanted to see what was going on.

“I see. Well, your Highness, we must finish the truth
potion.”

William sat down in a chair by the door and smirked.
“Go ahead. I want to test it out when you’re finished.”

“You… oh, of course.” Cobb cleared his throat and
turned to the other men. They stared at him, their eyes even
wider.

William fingered the hilt of his sword, watching
them. They moved about in silence, occasionally bumping into one
another and mumbling apologies. They were on edge because of his
presence. He was used to it, but he had a feeling they were hiding
something. Not just nervous because of his position.

They threw a handful of leaves into the cauldron;
they stirred it a dozen times counter-clockwise, then two dozen
clockwise. The smell intensified as they added more ingredients,
and William took his handkerchief out to hold it over his nose.

Nearly an hour had passed when the liquid changed
color. It was a lavender now with hints of silver, and it didn’t
smell like a burning corpse anymore. It was actually quite pleasant
and made William slightly sleepy.

He stood and walked to the cauldron. The men gave him
a wide berth, and he touched the edge. “Give me some. I need to
question someone.”

Cobb sputtered for a moment. “Who, your
Highness?”

His sleepy mood vanished as he turned an incredulous
gaze towards Cobb. “You have no right to ask that.”

“Well, n-no, of course not, your Highness. It’s just
that… it might be more effective on… females.” His Adam’s apple
bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

William glared at him, taking steps closer to Cobb.
He backed the Mahri up against the wall, and he drew his sword. The
man stared in horror as William put the tip to his neck.

“This isn’t truth potion, is it?” William asked.

“I—of course it is, of course it is,” Cobb said.

“Get me some!” William barked at one of the men.

“Your Highness—” Cobb began as the tall Mahri
scrambled for a flask.

William saw the other Mahri move out of the corner of
his eye, and swung his sword in time to catch the club in the man’s
hand. He knocked the club out, and the man flew after it.

“Kel, no!” Cobb yelled.

William kicked the man’s legs, and he went sprawling
to the ground. He pointed his sword at the man’s throat, stepping
on his shoulder. He glared at the other men, realizing how
outnumbered he was. But if he killed this one, there would only be
two.

“No, please, don’t,” the one on the ground yelled,
his hands up.

The third man, the tall one, had a flask of the
purple liquid in his hand.

“Drink it,” William demanded, “or I’ll kill him.”

The tall one stared at him, his mouth opening and
closing like a fish out of water. William drew blood from Kel’s
throat, and a strangled cry came from his mouth. “It’s not a truth
potion!” Kel yelled.

William glared at him. “I picked that much up. What
is it?”

Kel said nothing, his eyes darting to the other men,
and William pushed his sword in further.

“It’s a love potion,” Kel said with a gasp.

William froze. A love potion. Grace. He slowly backed
away, his mouth falling open. It all made sense now—her erratic
behavior. The way she fawned after him.

But why? How? Dar had been injured—he’d seen General
Daniel stab him, and the only way he could have survived that was
if Kris healed him. They told him they healed him so they could
make an example of him, but William knew better. Kilar and Tisha
would have killed Grace, but she must have convinced them somehow.
Yet Tisha was the one still brewing the potion.

“Your Highness,” Cobb said.

William knew he should stay here, should punish the
men, but he spun around and burst out of the room. He sheathed his
sword and ran up the steps. The Mahris yelled after him, but he
ignored them. He ran to Grace’s room.

* * *

The door flung open, making Grace jump. It swung back
and hit the wall, and William stormed in. She stood up from her
desk, her heart slamming against her chest at the sight of him.

“Your Highness?” Marisa said, walking into the
bedroom from the bathroom.

William glared at her, his hands clenching into
fists. Grace’s heart sunk. Something was wrong.

“Did you know?” William asked, his voice low.

Grace looked at Marisa for her response. The maid
gaped at him with a confused expression. “Know what?”

William stalked towards her, his face contorted in
anger. He grabbed Marisa’s shoulders, and his knuckles went white.
“Tisha recommended you. He brought you here because he knew you’d
stay quiet, didn’t he?”

“Your Highness—”

“Didn’t he?” William yelled.

“William, what is going on?” Grace asked, raising her
voice.

He bared his teeth at her. He grabbed Marisa by the
hair and started pulling her to the door. “Leave us alone.”

“William!” Grace called after him.

Marisa struck him in the stomach. He let go of her
for a moment, and she kneed him in between the legs.

“Stop!” Grace yelled.

He rolled away from Marisa’s next hit and jumped
behind her. He grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms down. She
screamed and struggled against him, but he dragged her to the door
and pushed her into the hallway.

He threw the door closed and locked it. He turned on
Grace, and she backed up against her desk. Wasn’t Marisa supposed
to protect her? No, she didn’t need protecting. This was William.
William, who she loved. William, who loved her, no matter what he
said.

He advanced on her, and she stumbled away from the
desk. She tried to get around him to the door. He grabbed her by
the shoulders and slammed her up against the wall. She gasped at
the pain that shot through her joints, and he grabbed her chin.

“Was it worth it?” he said, his voice gruff, harsh.
“Was it worth all the lies to save your precious Dar?”

“William, stop it!” She tried to push him off, but
his grip only tightened. Tears blurred her vision.

“Tell me if it was worth it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She fought
back sobs. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am
I
doing this?” He put his hand around
her throat, and she clawed at his hand.

“Stop it! Stop, let me go!” she yelled. She kicked
out at him, and he stepped closer. His body pushed up against hers,
his weight nearly crushing her.

“Did you think I wouldn’t catch on? Did you think I’d
just accept you with open arms, even though you’ve been in love
with that
scum
for months?”

A sob escaped her lips, and she hated herself for it.
“What are you talking about?” she screamed.

Someone was pounding on the door; yells reached them
from the corridor.

His fingers tightened around her throat, and she
scratched at his arm. “Tell me you don’t know about the love
potion.”

“I—what?
What
?” Her eyes widened, and she
tried to comprehend what he was saying. “L-love potion?”

“Love potion, Grace!”

Grace stared at William. A sharp pain shot through
her head. Love potion… Dar… but no. No, she loved William all on
her own. This had nothing to do with magic. “No! No, this is real.
I lo—”

“Don’t. Say. It.” William’s grip tightened on her
throat, and she gasped for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and
she tried to yell at him to stop. She was suffocating… the man she
loved was going to kill her…

Dar’s voice suddenly burst through the haze.
“Grace!”

William pushed Grace away from him. She hit the
ground, coughing and gasping for breath. She looked up to see
William diving at Dar with his sword. Dar ran around the room,
trying to avoid him. He picked up the desk chair and flung it at
William.

“Stop it!” Grace yelled, though she wasn’t sure who
she was yelling at. Who did she want to save?

Marisa ran into the room and grabbed Grace. “You need
to get out of here.”

“No!” Grace pushed her off of her and ran for
William. She grabbed William’s arm just as he went for Dar again.
“William, stop!”

William flung her off of him and turned on her.
“You’re trying to save his life again!” he shouted.

“No, I want to talk to you! This isn’t a love potion!
I love you!” she yelled. She tried to run to him again, but Marisa
grabbed her arm again.

“Are you crazy? He’s going to kill you!” Marisa
pulled her to the door, and Grace fought against her.

Kilar ran into the room, panting. “What is going on
in here?”

William pointed his sword at Kilar. “I never should
have trusted you and Tisha.”

Kilar held his hands up. His gaze quickly took in the
scene. “Your Highness, she was going to kill herself.”

“You should have let her!” William yelled.

Grace held back a sob, covering her mouth. She hated
him. She gave up her fight against Marisa. Her legs gave out, and
she slumped to the ground. Dar was suddenly near her, and she
pushed him off of her. “Get away from me,” she moaned. He started
to lean away, and she grabbed his arm. “Don’t.” She closed her
eyes, holding her aching head.

“I wasn’t going to do that,” Kilar said calmly. “I
wanted to save her life for both you and her father. I thought we
could sort it all out back at the castle.”

“You let me believe she—and you’re brewing more
downstairs! How long would you have let it go on?” William
asked.

When she opened her eyes, he was backing Kilar up
against the wall.

“Your Highness, Tisha and I felt it was the only way
to control her,” Kilar said. “She’s been unpredictable. When she
was in love with you, she didn’t want to help the Avialies.”

“I see how it is,” William said with a hollow laugh.
“You’d make a fool of me to keep her from the Avialies! You’d lie
and deceive me to keep them from gaining an ally!”

“She is not simply an ally, your Highness. She broke
the curse.”

William pressed his sword closer to Kilar’s throat,
and Grace tightened her grip on Dar’s arm.

A thunderous voice came from the door. “William!” It
was King Thomas. He stared at his son and Kilar in horror. “What do
you think you’re doing?”

“Kilar lied to me,” William said. “Lady Grace has
been under a love potion this entire time.”

King Thomas glanced at Grace. He strode over to his
son and put his hand on William’s outstretched arm. He slowly
pushed his arm down. “William, stop it. This is not how a future
king deals with things.”

William backed away from him. “I suppose I should
deal with it as you would, letting Kilar and Tisha do everything!
Giving them free reign of the castle!”

The king rubbed his forehead. “We can discuss this
civilly.”

“Father, the only thing we need to discuss is when to
get rid of these two.” William motioned to Kilar.

“We’re not getting rid of anyone. Kilar, come, we
must talk in my private study.” He grabbed William’s arm. William
wrenched his arm from him and sheathed his sword. He strode to the
door without glancing back.

Grace disentangled herself from Marisa and Dar and
ran after him. “William!” she called.

He stopped in the corridor and glanced over his
shoulder, his face tense.

“I do love you. It’s not the love potion,” she said,
shaking her head.

A few men stood in the hallway. Grace hadn’t seen
noticed them before.

“Brew me an antidote,” William told them. He nodded
to his father, and they and Kilar moved down the corridor.

“But William—” Grace stepped forward, and someone
took her arm. She looked at Marisa as she pulled her into the
bedroom. “Don’t! I want to speak to him.”

Dar shut the door, keeping the three of them in her
room.

“He has to know.” Grace tried to reached the
doorknob, and Dar took her wrist.

“He’s angry right now,” he said. “You must give him
time to think.”

Grace looked down at his hand on her skin. He let go
of her, and she moved her gaze to his face, taking in his worried
look, the redness of his eyes, the way he leaned towards her.

The pain behind her eyes intensified. She closed her
eyes, and her body swayed. Strong arms wrapped around her and
carried her to her bed. She breathed in Dar’s scent and recognized
the feel of his hard chest against her body. He wrapped her in warm
blankets, and she held onto his hand. Even that felt familiar, the
size of his hands and the soft hair on his knuckles.

She dozed off, giving her a short reprieve from the
pain and confusion in her head.

* * *

Dar was still in Grace’s room when the door opened
again three hours later. He stood and crossed his arms. On the
other side of Grace’s bed stood Marisa.

William walked in. King Thomas and a mustached man
carrying a goblet trailed behind him.

“You’re lucky to still be alive,” William told
Dar.

“So is she.” Dar motioned to Grace, who was sleeping
peacefully. “You would have killed her.” He clenched his fingers
around his bicep, dwelling on the pain instead of the anger
coursing through him.

William said nothing, his gaze turning to Grace.

“I’m sure William would have controlled his anger,”
King Thomas said. He hadn’t heard Grace’s screams as Dar struggled
to open the door. Hadn’t seen the growing bruises on her neck. He
turned to the man with a mustache. He smelled like a Mahri.
“Cobb?”