Chapter 6

This time he had ruined everything, he really had. His whole future had been lined up and it hadn't looked bad at all. In fact, the idea of settling down and taking on more responsibility hadn't daunted him as much as it usually did. That huge mountain always blocking his path was no longer insurmountable. Mon was going to train as a ranger in Castle Araluen and he would have been right by her side. He would give her his mothers ring one day. They would have been so happy and then barely able to contain their excitement when little brown haired rascals invaded their lives. Yes, she had thrown him with her quest to find el jefe, but it shouldn't have. He should have supported her – either by saddling up Thunder or wishing her every luck he could offer. How stupid had he been? Throwing it all away because of an old insecurity. No wonder she had been so angry. He had cast aside her sincere word in favour of Emily and Laura, who seemed to constantly cause him nothing but trouble. Wolf should have mauled him till he bled. He deserved every single bite and chew.

Edmund fell to the ground and pulled his knees up like a little child. He rocked back and forth despite that voice that told him he was a grown man. He didn't feel like a man at all, just a lost little boy. So much had been taken from him in the past. He was familiar with that gaping hole in his heart. That was normal. He wouldn't be surprised if one day he had no heart left because of what the world threw at him, but he could handle that. He had always managed to. But this time it was different. He felt lonely and ashamed and guilty and angry and above all that the blame rested on his shoulders.

And his shoulders alone.

† † †

Edmund sat on a chair facing the door to his mother's room. He was scared. Her usually dancing green were so lifeless and she struggled to even grip his hand. The best healer in all of Araluen had been brought in by his uncle when the local apothecaries weren't able to cure the simple fever. It was now much worse and Edmund was praying to every god he could remember that Malcolm of Grimsdell Forest would be able to do something. He felt so useless. Whenever he was hurt or sick his mother would rock him in her arms and kiss him on the forehead. Despite being a princess with hundreds of servants at her beck and call she would always nurse him herself. He hadn't wanted to leave her side and had to be physically dragged, kicking and screaming by Peters and his uncle into the hallway. Now Peters was standing watch over him so that he didn't go back inside. He didn't understand. Why couldn't he be with her?

"Peters I wanna see her," he whined, wiping away his tears with the back of his frilly sleeve. Maybe if he played the adorable eight-year-old, he could weasel his way in.

"You have to let Malcolm do his job Ed," Peters explained kindly.

"But what if I never see her again and I don't get to say goodbye?" Edmund asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You'll see her again, I promise," Peters answered, trying to project certainty but feeling his own voice waver.

Edmund sighed and squirmed in his chair. It was stiff and the material was itchy. "What can I do to help?"

Peters smiled sadly. "Nothing buddy."

"Why did it happen to her?" He asked the question that had been niggling at the back of his mind for days.

Peters left his post and kneeled at the foot of the chair so that he could talk to the frightened child face to face.

"These things happen Ed, and we can't do anything about it. Your mother is the kindest and most loving person on this earth. She's an absolute angel and she loves you with all her heart. No matter what happens you have to remember that. She calls you her little miracle and little blessing. You are everything to her and she just wants to see you happy," Peters explained, gently. It took everything Peters had not to shed the tears that were threatening to break through his defences. The little prince needed him to be strong right now – a rock through the storm.

"Was it my fault?" Edmund asked quietly.

Peters shook his head vehemently. "No Ed. Of course it wasn't. Why would you think that?"

The prince hung his head in shame. "I was being cheeky last week."

"Bad things sometimes happen to good people. It was not because of you. Don't you ever forget it." Peters almost seemed to be scolding Edmund with the force of his last words but the boy nodded grimly, feeling a weight lift.

† † †

Edmund stumbled through the halls of Castle Araluen. The people he passed gave him funny looks and it was only when he stopped to gaze into a mirror that he realised why. He hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions and his usually clean shaven face was anything but. He clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled and it if wasn't for the quality of his clothes he could easily be mistaken for a drunkard or beggar.

He took a number of flights of stairs which he somehow navigated without falling over, too many times. In his current state he was surprised that he even made it. He was about to wrench open the heavy doors when he was stopped by two spears blocking his path.

"Stupid guards," Edmund muttered before turning to face them.

"I'm sorry sir but you cannot go in there," the first guard said politely. Edmund rubbed his temples in annoyance. He obviously hadn't recognised who he was stopping, but assumed it was some noble.

"I want a drink," Edmund said, carefully enunciating his words.

"Sir, there is plenty in the dining hall or you could ask a servant to fetch you a bottle from the kitchens. This is the Queen's private collection and can only be opened under Royal order," the second guard said.

Edmund looked both directly in the eye and saw the recognition dawn upon their faces.

"I want a drink," he repeated and almost punched the wall when the metal still barred his way.

"Do you think that's a good idea, your majesty?" the first guard asked, looking concerned. Edmund sighed. He was technically banned from entering after the stupid exploits of his youth, but he thought the rule might have changed by now. It wasn't a huge deal either way. He was second in line to the throne and what was the point of having so much responsibility if you couldn't use it to get your own way sometimes.

"I order you to step aside," Edmund said, his voice lacking the force that usually came with such a directive, but the guards listened nonetheless.

Once inside he perused the rows upon row of barrels, bottles and leather skins - the best batches from the best harvests dating back hundreds of years. It was all stored in a cool dark place and only cracked open for special occasions. Where had his uncle kept all the strong stuff? The stuff even he hadn't dared to drink until now. He walked right up to the back where the rarest of the rare was housed and chose a bottle of brandy wine and then a skin of red wine – both imported from Gallica. He was gravitating towards some ale but knew he would likely drop it all if he dared for more. Dragging himself out and past the worried stares of the guards, he finally made it back to his room without anyone else stopping him. He locked his door but remembered that Peters had the key and so decided to drag a heavy chair and side table to block the entrance.

Edmund sat on the floor, leaning against the settee and stared up at the painting of his mother and him when he was a child. Her eyes absolutely shone and the part that almost always sent him to tears was the fact that she was smiling down at him. Holding him in her arms and staring at him like he was so precious.

He unscrewed the lid on the bottle of brandy wine. He wasn't special at all. He was a blundering idiot.

"I was so stupid mama. I found her and then I lost her just like that and it was all my fault," he said softly. He knew she would be watching over him from heaven – after all she was nothing short of an angel.

"It hurts so much," he continued, feeling a tug at his soul. There was a void inside him that he didn't think he could ever fill again. Instead he would spend a lifetime acutely aware of its existence and with the knowledge that he had dug it out himself – with his own inability to trust and love.

"I just want it to go away." He still remembered what alcohol could do to you. Make you forget everything – even if it was only for a few hours. But after the short relief, the pain will always come back much worse, accompanied with vomiting and a headache. The hole would still be there, right where he left it. He knew it all but didn't care. All Edmund wanted to do was drown away his sorrows.

Bringing the bottle to his lips he took a deep swig, feeling the hot burn that trailed down his throat like a poison already destroying all it touched. "I'm sorry mama. I know I shouldn't but I don't know what else to do."

He gulped down some more, getting used to the strength. Oberjarl Erak had once joked that he could hold down ale like a true Skandian. He had been right at the time and Edmund wondered if it was still true.

"How did you do it mama? When my father left you all alone. You couldn't drink and you had no one to turn to but you stayed strong for me. I didn't deserve you," Edmund all but rasped out. He head was beginning to spin. He was glad. He just wanted it all to go away.

And soon it did.

Edmund didn't know what time it was when he finally woke up. He looked at the empty bottle of spirits beside him but was sure that he hadn't drunk the whole thing, before he realised that he had managed to spill a considerable amount of the expensive liquid on the fur rug. He shrugged, his pain was still numbed. It was time to move on to the wine. He uncorked the wine skin and let the cool liquid coat his tongue. It was tangy and rich – as good as he remembered. A voice in the back of him mind scolded him, sounding increasingly like his uncle but he pushed it aside. His mother, his uncle and Mon. He had lost them all.

There seemed to be a pounding in his head. An insistently loud noise like knuckles rapping on the side of his skull. Edmund winced and moaned, but refused to feel sorry for himself. Any pain he felt was his own fault and he deserved it all.

"Edmund!" a distant voice called. Edmund sat up groggily, realising that the knocking was coming from the other side of his door.

"Let me in," Cassandra continued, fiddling around with the key and then trying to push the door open, but to no avail. The wood scraped painfully against the carefully placed chair and side table. Cassandra was not getting in unless she had her carpenters cut the door down or Edmund himself let her in.

"You've been holed up in here for days. You missed supper yesterday and the day before and it's the next morning already," she informed him. Edmund looked down at the empty bottle. That stuff was stronger than he thought. His stomach grumbled now, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in days, but he didn't care and brought the wineskin back to his lips.

Cassandra banged louder. "Don't you dare leave a pregnant woman out here knocking on your door! I will have this door cut on its hinges if you don't let me in! I swear I will. You know what I'm like pregnant!" And Edmund did. When she was pregnant with Maddie, Cassandra had a penchant for demanding the strangest of foods and upon receiving them from the stressed and worried kitchen staff she would change her mind or find the food lacking and take over the kitchens to prepare her own meal. The then Master Palin had thrown a fit when the Princess considered the pie that he himself had baked from his secret recipe, so low a standard that she had to prepare her own. He practically had a mental breakdown and left the castle. Rumours circled that he had moved far away to Alpina and to this day fainted at the sound of her name.

He sighed and stood to his feet shakily, like a newborn foal standing for the first time. He slowly pulled the furniture away before resuming his seat, surrounded by his choice of drink.

"Can I come in now?" Cassandra demanded.

"If you want," Edmund answered, taking another swig.

Her gasp was audible from across the room but Edmund was past caring.

"Gorlog's beard. What on earth are you doing?" Cassandra whispered. "It smells like spirits in here. Did you open some brandy wine?" Edmund didn't bother to respond but just held up the bottle so that she could see it over the back of the settee.

"You've been drinking again? You promised my father you wouldn't! How could you Edmund!" she demanded, marching towards him.

"Just go," Edmund said. He just wanted to be alone. Alone and numb and painless, even if it was temporary.

"You look horrible," Cassandra stated, crinkling up her nose in disgust at the sight and smell of him. "When did you last bathe, or change your clothes. Ugh and you spilt everything on the rug like a drunkard. What's wrong with you!"

"She left," Edmund muttered. "And it's all my fault. I didn't trust her."

"So Peters was telling me. What I don't understand is why you're drunk," she scolded, picking up the empty bottle and prying the wineskin out of his hand. Edmund didn't have the strength to challenge her. He could see the beginnings of her baby bump in her figure hugging dress and didn't want to cause Cassandra undue trouble. He would never forgive himself if she lost the baby because of him. It would be yet another thing destroyed at his touch.

"It makes the pain go away," Edmund answered, looking up at Cassandra's worry creased face. She had aged so many years in the face of a few months. He wondered how many of those wrinkles on her forehead had been his fault.

"Explain this to me. You're sitting around moping because you humiliated Mon and broke her heart?"

Edmund didn't bother to answer.

"You're moping while she's out risking her life for the sake of this country? You're pathetic," she reprimanded.

"I know," Edmund whispered, bowing his head in shame.

"Edmund it hurts me to see you hurting," Cassandra said. Edmund was silent.

"I punished the twins," Cassandra continued. "I can't have two manipulating and deceitful girls roaming around the castle. They left this morning with their parents. Both are banned from ever setting foot in this castle again. I did it quietly of course, for the sake of their father and since their older brother will inherit anyway. The jewels were returned but no one really wanted to press charges. Laura will still be an apothecary but only for Whitby, not this castle like she wanted. I wanted to take that away from her completely, but she's so skilled and we would be at greater loss than her. Emily will miss out on parties which seems like the only punishment that can get through to her. Most of the nobles know about it, but the common people hopefully won't find out. They're both practically ruined. They tried to argue that Mon used to be a thief and that this wasn't fair. I told them what I thought of them, in the queenliest way I could manage. Mon had stolen to survive. They did it out of spite which is completely unacceptable and they ruined all this for you…"

"I appreciate that Cass, I really do, but it was my fault. Not theirs," Edmund interrupted.

"Are you coming down for breakfast?" Cassandra asked. "Or are you going to mope for longer?"

"Mope."

"I understand. I remember how I felt all those years ago when I offered Will the chance to stay at Castle Araluen and he rejected me. I know this is different for you, but it hurt all the same. Just remember that sometimes things have a way of figuring themselves out. If you two are meant to be then nothing can come between you," she continued, bending down to meet his red rimmed eyes with her own steady ones. "And I have a feeling fate has intertwined your lives together, even though officially I shouldn't believe such nonsense."

"You should stop being so nice to me. I don't deserve it," Edmund said.

"Codswallop! You're family Ed and we stick by each other through thick and thin." She tenderly ruffled his hair like she had when Edmund had been a chubby little toddler, and she his cousin who was fifteen years older.

After Cassandra left he had a few moments to think it over, and smiled for the first time in days. She had really listened to their argument about putting family first and he appreciated it. He hadn't lost everyone.

His next visitor didn't even bother to knock. In fact, if it wasn't for the creaky hinges on the door he would never even have heard Halt enter.

"It's stinks in here," Halt's gruff voice said from across the room. Edmund sensed that Halt was ghosting around the room but didn't hear a single footfall. He heard the rustling of fabric as Halt pulled the curtains aside, exposing him to the full force and brightness of the morning sun.

Edmund quickly shielded his eyes, too accustomed to the darkness. "Close it!" He knew his protests were futile and then gasped as Halt threw a jug of cold water over his head.

Edmund pushed his sodden hair off his forehead and then glared at the grizzled ranger who matched him with a look of disdain.

"You look like a bloody drunkard, boy," Halt stated.

"If you're just hear to insult me, you should leave before I have you thrown out," Edmund snapped, annoyed.

Halt smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked more like a vicious dog, baring his teeth to his prey. "I'm quaking in my boots."

"Okay I know I messed up. Here I am moping because I wasn't there for Mon and I should have believed her and stuck up for her. But I didn't and now she's gone forever. I think I have sufficient license to brood, so if you would please leave me alone it would be much appreciated. Also maybe have someone send up some ale or something," Edmund burst out.

Halt just raised his eyebrow, making Edmund want to swear. Thankfully, he had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

"Let me get this straight. Mon has left and your solution is to stay locked up in your room, drowning all your pain away?" Halt stated, finally. Edmund nodded slowly, unsure if this was a trap or not.

"And here I thought that your brains would put all the other knights to shame but it turns out you're the biggest ninny of them all!" Halt practically roared. "How do you think she feels? You say you love her but at the first sign of trouble you go running in the other direction. She's out there showing everyone what she can do and you're hiding in your room like a coward."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Edmund asked.

"Do you want her back?" Halt asked.

"Of course," Edmund answered.

"Then why are you sitting around here sulking? Get off the floor, you don't deserve her like this. Go get her, and pray to the gods that she'll have you back," Halt said, wondering why he was giving the young man advice on love. It was not like he had much experience in being spontaneous. He had taken years to propose to Pauline.

Edmund stood up and began to walk around his room, carefully avoiding the spilt spirits. Halt was right. He would find Mon and apologise. He should maybe take her a present. Or maybe get on his knees and do some grovelling – even though he was a prince and did not beg to anyone, he could make an exception. Especially for her. He would join her on her mission and when they had successfully killed el jefe maybe then she would forgive him. Thinking back to the confrontation he knew the present had to be big. Jewellery was always good with women but maybe not in this case. Maybe more weapons? But that didn't seem personal enough. Maybe a horse? He smiled. A well bred horse. She would appreciate that instead of borrowing that stupid ranger horse. There was a snow white mare in the royal stables. She was bred from the fastest Arridi horses and was a gift from Wakir Selethen of Al Shabah for Cassandra's coronation. Actually he had bought three horses and he was sure Cassandra could spare one. He just had to think of the perfect name.

Halt coughed and Edmund turned his head in the direction of the older man. "What now?"

"You might want to take a look in the mirror before you head out. She won't have you back looking like misplaced nobleman who can't even bathe, or shave. I can lend you my saxe if you want." The last part was said with the utmost sincerity that Edmund wasn't sure whether to solemnly accept the offer or laugh. In the end he did neither and just stood in front of a mirror. He did look horrid, with alcohol stained clothes and bloodshot eyes. He took a whiff of his shirt and almost passed out. He smelt worse than the stables before they had been mucked out.

"Yeah I need to bathe," he admitted finally.

Halt gave him a small smile. "Go and win her back." Edmund raised an eyebrow in surprise. He didn't know the grizzled ranger was so partial to a little romance.

Or, that he had a second life as a matchmaker.