Loving the Forbidden Prince

ETAN

Quwan spoke with quiet conviction. "I do not accuse, my Lady. Only query. The gift can be possessed without conscious use. Surely your mother spoke to you about the power you have? How it binds you and can be used to bind you?"

Ayleths swallowed. "Yes, but... I never used it. Never trained. I thought if I only ignored it—"

Quwan hissed. "The worst kind of deception, but not unlikely coming from the Goddess. You cannot know what you are not told. But here is the truth: Your goddess will empower your mother to kill even those who serve her... perhaps you may have reason to... reconsider your perspective and peel back the veil?"

"What do you know of the veil?" Ayleth asked suspiciously.

They'd walked the halls briskly and were finally reaching the royal quarters. They all stood back as the footmen opened the large, grand doors into the Royal wing. Taking Ayleth's hand, Etan led her towards his suite. This was a moment he'd hoped to walk her towards with love and joy—a moment they would share without so many witnesses, he'd hoped. He'd imagined bringing her here, helping her wash, letting her explore the huge island of a bed in his bedchamber—the bed they would share. But instead...

He could feel Borsche's eyes on his back and realized that technically he should be going to the King's suite, now. But even the thought turned his stomach. He wasn't ready. And besides, none of his things were there.

He could hear Borsche's voice in his head, prattling about duties and expectations, and the only way to keep the people feeling safe when life was in such upheaval.

But he shook his head. The staff would have to be patient.

When they swung into the large sitting room where there was a thick couch, plush chairs, the richest of rugs on the floor, and tall windows, framed by curtains an inch think, most of the servants didn't follow. Etan indicated the doors that led to his dressing room and his bedchamber, leading Ayleth to the latter.

When they walked inside and Etan began to strip off his clothes, only Quwan, Borsche, and Falek stayed with them. Quwan spoke as if their conversation had never been interrupted.

"I know a great deal of the veil, my Queen. I was a White Wizard, the most powerful of the Goddess's servants." His eyes, fixed on Ayleth, burned with the intensity of his earnestness. "The spell that your mother described is advanced magic, and deeply dark. Yet the whites claim it."

"Only as punishment! Or—"

"Or when a daughter has chosen allegiance to a rival Kingdom?"

Ayleth's lips went tight. "My parents believe I am a traitor—of course they will deal with me harshly. They think my heart is to work against their Kingdom."

"And you believe that is a legitimate reason for death?" Quwan asked carefully.

"Yes, of course! If a Kingdom allowed traitors, it would fall."

Quwan stares at her. Etan frowned. What was his Advisor getting at?

Then Quwan opened a hand towards Ayleth. "You see the danger of a Kingdom divided against itself, yet you condemn my God for drawing the same line? For condemning those that do not keep themselves allied with Him?"

Ayleth's jaw went tight. "I hadn't thought about it that way, but... there is a difference. A god has such power. People are limited to their span of knowledge and experience... so you're saying this god of yours, who is so good, should just kill everyone he doesn't like?"

"No," Quwan said briskly. "My God will not go where He is not invited. But any who come against Him... those he will flatten like bugs."

Ayleth folded her arms. "So, he's weak. He doesn't choose the battlefield? He doesn't have an offense? But simply allows his enemies to choose where and when to fight?

Etan braced, but Quwan only chuckled.

"No... the Father of Lights knows with utter conviction that he is strong enough to beat any foe, no matter the battlefield. He cares more for a person's state of heart and mind than the states of their coffers or prestige. Humility, Ayleth. That is the key, your Goddess provides power exchange—she will benefit you as long as you benefit her. But the Father has the strength and power to level his enemies, yet chooses not to. He does not force Himself on anyone—but He will gladly end the fight that is brought to him. He does not deceive you or present Himself falsely. Where your Goddess will present herself as anything that will draw you into her web.

"I cannot respect her when she makes way for this kind of darkness. And I will not apologize for the God who would protect those who serve Him from them."

Ayleth was startled and uneasy, but her jaw was tight—she was not convinced.

"This... this isn't the time," she said finally, her cheeks pinking. "I cannot be sure what you're saying is true, and we have to focus on Etan."

"No," Etan said, emphatic. "Quwan, I need to know how to break this curse that has its claws in her. I cannot rest until she's safe."

But Quwan turned to him sadly. "This is the answer to that spell, Etan, and I believe you know that. If she is not yet ready to devote herself to the Father of Lights, she remains vulnerable."

"I am not!" Ayleth insisted, but Etan's face must have told her of his fear because she turned on her heel and started for the door. "I will go ask for aid in dressing and cleaning for... whatever we must face today, Etan. Please... let us put this conversation aside for now."

Etan started after her, but she turned back, shaking her head. "No, you have so many things to face today. I am here, and I do not regret it Etan, except for how it has pained you. The rest..." she looked over his shoulder at Quwan, "The rest we will have to figure out later. You can call for me if you need me, otherwise I will rest and wait until I can be of help to you."

Then she strode from the room, taking his heart and peace with her.