"Where have you been all day?" a voice said out of the darkness as I stepped into my bedroom.

"Edmund!" I exclaimed as I squinted at the figure perched on the edge of my bed. "You scared me."

I heard him strike a match and a second later I could see him clearly. "Where have you been all day?" he repeated.

I studied his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair stuck up at odd angles. He didn't look like a king. He just looked tired and lost.

"I was with Henry," I said slowly. "It's Friday. I always work on Fridays."

He extended the candle he was holding towards the clock that hung in the corner. "Do you normally work until almost midnight?" he asked quietly.

"Something came up," I whispered.

He turned back to me. "This morning I announced the hardest decision that I've ever had to make in my life," he said. "And I know that we've been distant lately, Ella. But I would have liked, even if it was just for today, to have talked to my wife about what I had to do." He sighed. "But you were off with that shopkeeper of yours until the middle of the night, so I'm sure I was the last thing on your mind."

"That's not true," I protested. "Edmund, listen to me for a moment. I have something very important to tell you. How aware are you of the revolution that's been brewing?"

He shrugged. "I've heard some things. But it's just a few men trying to stir up trouble. Nothing serious."

"You're wrong, Edmund," I replied, shaking my head. "It's very serious."

He tilted his head, confusion spreading across his face. "What do you mean?"

I crossed the room and sank down beside him onto the bed. "Let me start from the beginning."


I told Edmund everything that Henry had told me. Afterwards, he was silent for a long time. We were both lying on our backs, side by side on my bed, staring up at the canopy. I waited patiently for him to speak, knowing that it was a lot to take in.

"You know," he finally said, "when I was a child, I never wanted to be king. Everyone always thought that was so strange, but I absolutely loathed the idea."

"Why?" I asked. "Because you knew that becoming king would mean that your father had died?"

"That was definitely part of it," he replied. "But it went beyond that. I would watch my father, surrounded by advisors, discussing all kinds of things that went over my head about laws and tariffs and wars. I would watch as he made difficult decisions that would not only affect the entire kingdom but sometimes the whole world. He shouldered so much responsibility and I didn't understand how I would ever have enough intelligence or wisdom to do what he did. But I knew my fate was sealed so I told myself that everything would be fine. I figured that by the time I was old enough to be king, I'd have all the answers like he always seemed to. But now that I'm here, I realize that no one ever has the answers. It doesn't matter how old you are. You're never old enough to know what you're doing."

"Edmund, I've told you before that you're a great king," I murmured. "You need to have more faith in yourself."

"If I'm such a great king, then why is the entire kingdom ready to depose me?" he asked bitterly. "Everyone loved my father. Everyone wants me dead."

"If your father had lived a bit longer, he would have made the same decision you did and the kingdom would have resented him for it just as they resent you," I said. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't the right decision. This war has been going on for a long time. Our soldiers and weapons will end it sooner. Some of our men will lose their lives, it's true. But more will be saved in the long run."

"But how do you know it was the right decision?" he asked.

"I don't!" I said. "But I don't know that it wasn't either! Sometimes the line between right and wrong is blurry, Edmund. Morality isn't always clear-cut."

He reached out, his hand finding mine. "Thank you, Ella," he whispered.

I lay awake for a long time, but eventually I fell asleep to the sound of Edmund's steady breathing.


The next morning, as I was getting into the carriage to go and fetch Henry, Edmund grabbed my hand. "Wait," he said. "Bring Lydia too, will you?"

I stopped where I was, one foot up in the carriage and the other still planted firmly on the ground. I turned to face him. "What?" I asked.

"Lydia," he repeated slowly. "Find out if she can accompany you and Mr. Toulson back here to the castle, please."

"How—how do you even know her name?" I sputtered.

He looked at me strangely. "I met her that day I accompanied you to the bookshop," he said. "Don't you recall?"

I did, of course, remember. He spent the entire afternoon deep in conversation with her and she was, like any sixteen year old would be, completely enamored by him. And even though Edmund and I had just lost our baby and had finally reconnected with each other emotionally after months of ignoring each other, I got angry and pushed him away again after accusing him of trying to seduce a girl who was practically still a child.

"I know," I said. "I just didn't expect you to remember her all that well. I hadn't realized she'd made that much of an impression on you."

"Well, she did," he said. "She's a charming girl and I told her that I would show her our library one day because she loves book."

I stared at him. "Her brother owns a bookshop. She is literally surrounded by books every time she goes to work. Why would she need to see our library?"

"We have many rare books that Mr. Toulon's shop certainly doesn't," he replied, annoyance creeping into his voice. "Honestly, Ella, do you think every collection of books is the same?"

"She's sixteen," I said quietly. "A child."

"I do believe we already had this conversation," he said, just as quietly. "I'm aware of her age. I do not wish to pursue a romantic relationship with her. I wish to show her a library."

"Fine," I responded, stepping up into the carriage and sitting down. "I'll bring Lydia."

Edmund closed the door and smiled in at me through the window. "I'm delighted to hear it."


The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the small house Henry and Lydia shared. I stepped out of the carriage and walked toward the door. As I was raising my hand to knock, the door opened and Henry stepped out.

"Good morning, Ella," he said, his eye not meeting mine.

"Good morning," I replied, studying him. His expression was blank, but I could tell by the way he clenched his hands together tightly at his sides that he was not looking forward to what he was about to do.

He started to walk toward the carriage, but I grabbed his hand. He came to a stop and turned to look at me, removing his hand from mine. "What is it, Ella?" he asked tiredly.

"Is Lydia home?" I asked.

He nodded, eyeing me suspiciously. "She's eating breakfast. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought that she could come too," I said, not adding that it was Edmund's idea. I had a feeling Henry wouldn't let Lydia come if he knew Edmund had his eye on her. "She would love to see the castle, I'm sure."

"Yes," he said. "I'm sure she would. But I don't think—"

"So, it's settled then!" I said brightly, cutting him off. "I'll go get her. You can wait in the carriage."

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he headed towards the waiting carriage.

I had expected things to be a little awkward between us, considering he had confessed his love for me and I had darted away and gone back to Edmund, but it was still strange seeing him acting like his usual moody self as if nothing had changed between us.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. I had no idea where the kitchen was because I'd never been to Henry's house before, so I stood in the entryway and called out Lydia's name. A moment later, her face peeked out from around the corner. "Ella?" she said, her eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering," I began, "if you would like to accompany Henry and I back to the castle? Edmund wants you to see the library. He said that he promised you he'd show it to you."

Her eyes grew even wider. "I can't believe he remembered!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"I can't either," I grumbled to myself.

"Wait a minute," she said. "Why is Henry going to the castle with you?"

Henry obviously hadn't told her about his involvement with the revolutionaries. "Er," I said, "it's just something boring and political. Henry has some ideas he wants Edmund to hear or something. I don't entirely know myself." I smiled at her, hoping she believed my vague lie.

She shrugged, her mind probably still focused on the library. "All right," she said, hurrying past me and pulling open the door. "Let's go then!"

I followed her outside and into the carriage, sitting down beside Henry as Lydia took a seat across from us. She grinned happily as she ran her hands over the red velvet of the carriage's interior. "Wow," she murmured, as her gaze swept over the gleaming gold door handles.

"Lydia!" Henry barked, as the carriage began to move.

She scowled at him. "What?"

"Do try and not be so shallow all the time, will you?"

"I'm not shallow!" she protested. "I can just appreciate beautiful things. And this is a beautiful carriage."

Henry rolled his eyes, but his fondness for his little sister overpowered his annoyance and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"It is quite nice," I agreed. "Though it's no pumpkin…"

They both looked at me strangely, but I didn't bother to explain.

As the carriage moved through the streets of the town, I moved closer to Henry, so that our legs were pressed together. He'd barely looked at me since I'd arrived at his house and I didn't like it. He glanced down at me, frowning, but didn't move his leg away. He leaned his head against the side of the carriage and closed his eyes. I reached out for his hand, wondering if he would pull it away as he did earlier. He didn't, but I felt him stiffen slightly as I laced my fingers through his.

"Oh my God!" Lydia exclaimed ten minutes later as we pulled up to the front of the castle. She opened the door and scrambled out without waiting for the footman's help. "It's even bigger than it looks from a distance!" she said, standing with her head tilted completely upwards.

Henry followed me out of the carriage. "Lydia," I said. "You go and look around while Henry and I talk to the king, all right? We have some very beautiful gardens to explore."

The awestruck girl's gaze was already fixed on a large marble fountain some meters away and she nodded eagerly as she took off towards it.

"Come on," I said to Henry. "Edmund is waiting for us in the parlor."

He nodded, looking quite a bit paler than before.

"It's going to be all right," I said.

"They're my friends," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"Well," I said. "No one's forcing you to do anything. You can go home right now if you want."

He scowled at me. "I'd be thrown in prison for treason if I went home right now, Ella. The king knows I have information involving a revolution. I have to tell him now."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "Well, I'm sorry you're being forced to do something you don't to do, Henry. But this was your idea in the first place, so it's not my fault you've changed your mind."

"I have not changed my mind!" he hissed, a wild fury flashing in his eyes. "I think I've made it perfectly clear that there is absolutely nothing more important to me than keeping you safe and alive."

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it!" I snapped.

His gaze softened and he reached out, brushing a stray hair from my face. "This is just a really difficult thing for me to do, Ella. I'm glad to do it, if it means keeping you alive. But before you came back into my life, this revolution was my whole life. I wanted nothing more than to depose the king and set up a democracy. I thought I could never want anything more." His eyes bore into mine. "I was wrong about that, but this still feels like a strange thing to be doing. Like I'm betraying my old self and everything I once stood for."

I reached for his hand and this time he didn't tense up when I took it. "It'll be all right," I assured him again.

"I know," he murmured, as I led him inside.

We walked into the parlor, where Edmund was sitting facing away from us, staring into the flames dancing in the fireplace. He didn't seem to hear us come in. I cleared my throat loudly, and he turned, his eyes immediately landing on our hands, which were still entwined. I quickly dropped Henry's hand and went to sit down beside Edmund on the divan. Henry took a seat across from us in an armchair.

I looked back and forth between the two of them. It was only the second time I'd seen them together in one place, the first being when Edmund and I went to the theater and ran into Henry and his ex-fiancée, Mary. There was something about seeing Henry with Edmund that reminded me how young he was. Sometimes I forgot that he was only my age, that he wouldn't even turn twenty-one until next month. He always came across as so much older. But seeing him here next to someone who was seven years older put things into perspective. He suddenly looked so young in the face, with his smooth skin and light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. He was practically still a kid, I realized. We both were.

"I hear you have some names to give me, Mr. Toulson," Edmund said, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Henry said, nodding. "I do, Your Majesty."

I could hear the mocking in his tone when he said "Your Majesty" and by the way Edmund's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, I knew he'd heard it too.

"Well, go on then," Edmund said, his pen poised above a sheet of paper.

Henry took a deep breath. "Abraham Caldwell," he began. "Zachary Morrison—"


Afterwards, I followed Henry out of the castle. His face was unreadable, hard as stone. He sat down on the steps and stared up at the sky. I sat down beside him.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"At least we know you won't have to go to war," I offered.

Edmund had decided that as a kind of reward for the vital information Henry had provided, he would be exempt from the draft.

He shrugged again. "Where's Lydia?" he asked. "I just want to go home."

"Er, she's probably in the library with Edmund," I said.

He immediately turned to look at me. "What?" he hissed.

"He promised her he'd show her the library," I replied. "He knows she loves books and he wanted her to see it."

"How the hell does he know anything about her?" he asked.

"Because they met that one time when he accompanied me to the shop," I said. "You weren't there, but I assumed she told you."

"She told me they met, but she sure as hell didn't tell me anything about him making her silly little promises," he replied as he stood up, dusting the dirt from his trousers.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To the library," he replied. "I'm not about to let some smarmy king seduce my baby sister."

"He said that he has no intention of seducing her," I said, following up the steps and back into the castle. "I wouldn't let him near her if I thought he did."

"Where's the library?" Henry asked as if I hadn't even spoken, looking around wildly.

I sighed. "This way," I said, pointing down a corridor. "Follow me."

When we reached the library, the door was standing slightly agar. We both peered inside curiously. Lydia was staring up at the shelves of books with delight. Edmund was standing across the room, smiling at her. "It's beautiful, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed.

"He better stay over there where he is," Henry murmured in my ear.

"Call me Edmund," my husband told Lydia.

Lydia's eyes grew wide as her brother's narrowed. "Oh, no!" she said. "I could never do that, sir."

"I insist," he replied, crossing the room and picking a very old book off a shelf. "I think you'll like this," he said. "It's a first edition."

She took the book from him, her eyes flitting over the title that I could not make out. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "This is amazing!"

"You can keep it if you want," he said. "I've got two copies."

I thought that her eyes might literally pop right out of her head. Setting the book carefully down on the table, she threw herself into his arms. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

He stumbled back a few steps, clearly caught off guard. But then his arms snaked around her waist and he hugged her back.

Beside me, Henry looked ready to strangle someone. He threw open the door before I could stop him. "Lydia!" he snarled. "We need to go home. Now."

She quickly let go of Edmund. "Oh my God," she squeaked, backing away from him. "I can't believe I just did that. I can't just hug the king." She looked at Edmund as she picked up the old book from the table. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. That was completely inappropriate." She ducked her head, staring helplessly down at the book. "Do I still get to keep this?" she asked quietly.

Edmund chuckled. "Of course, Lydia. It's quite all right."

Henry grabbed his sister's hand and practically dragged her out of the room, shooting one last hate-filled glare in Edmund's direction.


So Henry wasn't exactly pleasant in this chapter, but he has A LOT on his mind right now and as we've seen, this is how he behaves when that's the case. Also, Edmund's telling the truth about not trying to seduce Lydia. He knows she's only sixteen and he's not that much of a creep (he honestly did think Jane was older than she was when he slept with her). However, he does like Lydia a lot for her personality and that's rarely something he notices or cares about.

This story is slowly coming to an end. I don't know how many chapters are left, but probably not too many. Don't forget to review!