The Third Son (35 page)

“I am prepared to make my statement to the council,” said Doctor Keane as he entered Serge’s chambers. “You have no need to worry, Your Grace, the council will rule in your favor.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Damien inquired, his voice low and menacing. “You think I want to do this? You think I want to take from my brother what is rightfully his?”
Doctor Keane stammered and stuttered in the face of Damien’s anger. When he could come up with no suitable reply, Damien dismissed him with an imperious wave of his hand. “Leave us,” he said softly, turning back to Serge. “The council should be assembling now. Go there and tell them I’ll be along in a moment.”

Doctor Keane rushed from the room as fast as his feet would take him, passing Esmeralda and Akira in the corridor, who had co
me as they did almost every day
to look in on Serge.
H
e turned to face her. “It’s time,” he said. “The physicians all agree that if he doesn’t wake up soon he will either die, or remain as he is for many years.”

Esmeralda rushed forward to wrap her arms around him. “He would understand, Damien,” she said, knowing how tormented he had been over this decision. She held him tightly and forced a little smile for his benefit. “He would not hold this against you. It was not his way, and you know it.”

Damien nodded, wrapping one arm around her. “I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t make me feel any better about doing this.”

A light knock on the door followed Alexandra’s entrance into the room. She ignored Esmeralda and Akira completely and turned to her son. “It is time,” she said from the doorway. “The council awaits.”

Damien stepped from the circle of Esmeralda’s arms and placed a light kiss on her forehead. “Will you be here when I return?” She nodded. “Good,” he said before turning to leave. He stopped in the doorway one last time and gazed back at Serge over his shoulder. “Forgive me brother for what I am about to do.”

The fifty members of the High Council were gathered and ready, each seated in their designated place in the Hall of the High Council. Damien’s boots clicked against the marble floors as he walked to the center of the room, where he was to stand and plead his case to the
men gathered
. Alexandra and Doctor Keane took available seats against the side wall, waiting silently for their chance to speak. Damien stood beneath the domed, painted ceiling, gazing up at the members of the council, men who had all been chosen specifically by his father.

Francis Boswell, the most senior member and Speaker of the High Council, began the proceedings. “Prince Damien,” he said, his voice echoing off the walls and ceilings, “You have summoned us here today to discuss the condition of your brother and current heir to the throne, Prince Serge. If Prince Serge has been found incompetent by his attending physicians, then you have every right by the dictates of the law to succeed to the throne in his stead. You may now state your case.”

Damien clasped his hands tightly behind his back, hoping that no one would notice how badly they were shaking. He knew that this must be done, yet he could not seem to find any sort of peace about it.
Damien
forced himself to square his shoulders and speak. “Gentlemen,” he began, “I gather you here today with great sadness in my heart and a heavy burden upon my conscious. My father and eldest brother are dead and another brother lies upon his deathbed as well. As the third son of Adare, I never thought to be in a position to take the throne. It is with great remorse that I come here today to do just that. I have brought Doctor Keane here, the senior physician attending my brother, to speak on my brother’s condition. I will ask him to come forward now.”

Doctor Keane stepped up beside Damien and cleared his throat. “Gentlemen of the council, I have conferred with my fellow physicians, each of whom has examined Prince Serge personally. He has sustained a catastrophic amount of trauma and we are doubtful that he will ever recover. Even if he were to live, he will continue to lie in a coma, just as he is now. We can do nothing more than care for him until the day of his passing.”

“Doctor Keane, you swear before this court that Prince Serge will never awaken from his coma?”

Doctor Keane shrugged. “There is a slim possibility that he could awaken,” he replied. “But in my experience, people who wake up from comas are never the same as they were before. Some never speak or move on their own. They simply sit and stare blankly ahead. Considering the amount of trauma that the prince has been through, it seems highly unlikely that he will ever be able to function as a normal person.”

Francis Boswell nodded his head and dismissed Doctor Keane with a wave of his hand. “If you will but give us a moment, Your Majesty,” he said to Damien. “We will now adjourn to discuss our decision.”

Damien silently agreed and watched as the men of the council disappeared one by one through a door at the back of the Hall. He took a seat beside
Alexandra
and waited. Half an hour later, the doors opened and the
men who would decide his fate
filed silently back in. Damien stood to face them, dread unfurling rapidly in his belly.

“We have reached a decision,” said Francis, once every member was seated. “We have reviewed the signed testimonies of each physician that has examined your brother. We believe what they say to be true and have decided to name you King Damien, ruler of Cardenas and Barony, as is your right as next in the royal line. For what it’s worth to you, I believe your father would have been proud.”

Damien felt the cruel weight of finality crushing down on him. This was not what he had wanted. Never could he have imagined he would be here, accepting the responsibility that came with ruling two kingdoms. Damien inclined his head in acknowledgement of the council’s verdict. Francis stood, and the other members of the council followed. “All hail King Damien!” he bellowed.

“All hail King Damien!” The council members echoed, their voices ringing in Damien’s ears as he strode swiftly from the Hall.

****

Esmeralda linked her arm through Damien’s and allowed him to lead her down the winding path through the garden. Nearly all of the flowers had died now and the frost of winter snow had settled on the branches that were left. Snow crunched beneath the soles of her high boots and clung to the bottom of her fur-lined cloak. The cloak had been another of Damien’s numerous gifts, one she was grateful for now as they strolled through the beautiful garden clothed in a soft white winter blanket of snow and ice.

The tension that had been present before Damien’s meeting was now gone, though she knew his mind was burdened with the many duties that awaited him as king. Esmeralda was relieved, but in a way nervous as well. Damien still spoke of marrying her as if his becoming king had not just changed everything. As Damien’s wife, Esmeralda would become queen of two countries. Though Cardenas and Barony were small, the thought of ruling as queen of anything caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter their wings mercilessly.

“You must start planning the wedding at once,” Damien was saying, as they walked. “I will speak to Jarvis and let him know that he is to be available to you at all times. We will have to be wed as soon as possible, three weeks if we can manage it. Once we are married
,
I’m afraid we’ll have to forgo a wedding trip. The state of Barony can be ignored no longer.”

Esmeralda nodded slowly, but her mind was reeling. She hadn’t the faintest idea how to plan a lavish wedding fit for a king and queen. Normally she would turn to Isabelle for guidance but her friend had not quite been herself since Lionus’ death. She walked about as if in a dream-like state, shrouded in her black mourning clothes.
Isabelle
was always there to take up the vigil at Serge’s bed whenever Damien and Esmeralda were not present. Sometimes she would read or talk to him, convinced that he could still hear what was going on around him. Other times she merely sat in silence and stared out of the window.

“A decision must be made about Isabelle’s future as well,” Damien said, as if reading Esmeralda’s thoughts. “Though I daresay she is not ready to discuss the matter just yet.”

“She is hardly recovered,” Esmeralda replied glad for the change of subject. She would worry over the planning of the wedding later. “Give her a bit more time. Perhaps she could stay here with us.”

Damien shook his head. “I know that she would if I asked her to, but Barony is her home. She was meant to return there and continue the royal family line. It hardly seems right the way things have unfolded.”

Esmeralda patted his hand gently. “I’m sure you’ll think of something. You can’t blame yourself. You can only take things one step at a time. Eventually, I’m sure we’ll find the peace to live a normal life.”

Damien stopped and smiled down at her, lifting her chin with his fingertips to capture her mouth in a tender kiss. “I will be the most fortunate of men to have you for my wife,” he said, brushing his lips across her cheek and down to her neck. The hood of her cloak slipped back from her head and Damien caressed the loose tendrils of hair that had fought their way from the neat chignon at the nape of her neck.

“I’m not sure,” she said, fighting the waves of exhilaration that rippled through her at his touch. She could barely think with his hand cupping the back of her head, drawing her in for another kiss, his thumb tracing light circles on the sensitive spot behind her ear. “If you are king, then that makes me queen.”

“Mmmmm,” he rumbled against her throat, nibbling gently and sliding his hands inside her cape to span her waist with his hands. “And you shall be the most beautiful queen to ever sit upon the throne,” he murmured.

“What on earth does a queen do anyway?” she asked absently, closing her eyes and giving herself over to the pleasure of the moment.

“Whatever the hell she wants,” he replied, pulling back to look down into her worried eyes. “Devote herself to charity work, bear lots of children, spend obscene amounts of money, lounge around all day nibbling on chocolates, plan lavish parties
,
take your pick.”

Esmeralda laughed. “I think I’ll stick to charity work and bearing children. I don’t care much for spending money, and chocolates and lavish parties are sure to ruin my figure.”

Damien thought of the child from his visions and smiled. He couldn’t ask for a better gift. “More than anything else I simply wish you to be my wife. In the same way you would if I were still a prince, or a simple farmer, or a Gypsy.”

Esmeralda knew that he was right. She had a lifetime to learn how to be a queen
, s
he would spend that lifetime as his wife and the mother of his children. “Anything you say, Your Highness.”

Damien laughed, a sound that Esmeralda had come to miss over the past few weeks.
It
warmed her more than her fur-lined cloak had in the chill of the winter afternoon. “You know,” he said, “I have not been very fond of that title, but I rather like the sound of it coming from your sweet lips.”

Esmeralda smiled. “Then I’ll have to say it more often, Your Highness.”

Jarvis was waiting for them when they returned from their walk. He took Esmeralda’s cloak and Damien’s greatcoat and ordered hot tea for them both.

“Have mine delivered to my library, Jarvis,” Damien said. “I have pressing business to take care of
,
things that have been neglected long enough.”

Jarvis felt his heart swelling with pride as if Damien were his own son. He had known all along that intelligence and determination were a part of the young prince’s character, though many overlooked those qualities and chose only to see his rakish façade. On his first day as king, Damien was efficiently stepping up to the task at hand. Adare would have been so proud.

“Of course, Your Highness,” he said. “Might I suggest having your things moved to the king’s chambers? I thought you would like to start getting used to your new quarters.”

Damien nodded. “I’ll leave that task up to you, Jarvis. I would prefer to bring the furniture from my library, though, and my books as well. Have them switched out with those in the king’s study.”

“I shall see it done today.”

“Good. Make yourself available to Esmeralda as well,” Damien said. “I am trusting you to see that all goes smoothly in making the wedding arrangements.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Damien gave Esmeralda a quick kiss on the cheek and was gone up the winding staircase in the span of a few seconds. Esmeralda waited until he was completely out of sight before she turned to Jarvis. “Oh God, Jarvis what am I going to do? I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about planning this wedding! I would ask Isabelle for help but she is hardly in the right frame of mind and I know that Damien’s mother will only laugh in my face if I ask her for help!”

Jarvis smiled and grasped Esmeralda’s hand, leading her toward one of the many sitting rooms where her tea awaited. He lowered her to an
armchair
and handed her a steaming cup. “You must calm yourself, my dear,” he said. “I think you will find my assistance invaluable in this. If you would allow me, I can make suggestions as to where you are to start.”

Esmeralda nodded eagerly. “Yes, thank you.”

“I will contact the florist and order whatever floral arrangements you think will be suitable. Might I suggest a trip to the cathedral? You will be able to visualize what type of flowers would look best in that setting. I will also contact Madame Didier in regards to your wedding gown. I’m sure she will be honored to create the wedding dress of a future queen. I will inform her that she is to report to you at once. I will also take you to my wife, the head cook, to consult her about the wedding reception
,
which will of course be held here.”