TRUST IN LOVE (Lovemark #2)

2. Farrow

2

Farrow

“Who is it?” I heard my father demanding from across the room. “A thief? An assassin? What type of weapon is he brandishing?”

Around me, the guards eased closer, ignoring the fact that I had my bare hands lifted in surrender to show them I came in peace and was unarmed.

When one moron actually nicked my collarbone, I flinched and scowled at him.

“Ouch, you fool.” I wiped at the cut, and my fingers came away smeared with red. “Watch where you aim that thing. That hurt.”

“Never fear, Your Majesty,” Greggor announced, yawning, as he had a better view of me from where he sat than my father did from the throne. “There’s no danger here. It’s just Farrow, the bastard.”

“Who?” King Torrance made a face, not comprehending. “Will you idiots just step aside and let me see the cutthroat before I have him run through?”

Immediately, I was given room to breathe again as the guards scurried backward until I was exposed enough to face my father fully.

Keeping my hands up and exposed, I gifted the king with a small, private smirk before bowing regally. “Your Majesty,” I greeted. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Oh,” he muttered in extreme disappointment before he fell back into his chair. “It’s just you.” Then he sniffed. “What? Come to have a look at the new whelp, did you?”

I nodded once, since there was no reason to lie. “I heard it was a girl. My felicitations on gaining yet another princess. You must be ecstatic.”

He narrowed his eyes over my backhanded compliment before curling his lip into a sneer and offering his own. “Aye. I’ll pass your regards on to Kalendria, since she’s so fond of you.”

“Sounds superb.” Ignoring the barb, I bowed my head again and started to turn away, hoping to leave without incident. “If you’ll excuse me, then…”

My father could be charitable, depending on his mood. At times, he would have me sit with him in front of the fire over a draught of ale and a full meal, talking late into the night as if we were the closest of companions. He’d had men killed for simply bullying me. He’d set me up with a tutor to teach me my letters and numbers. He’d plied me with prostitutes to make me a man when I’d come of age.

And yet, at other times, he had me dragged in and whipped before him just because he was bored and sought entertainment. He’d branded me with a hot iron once to claim me as his personal servant for life. And he’d ignored my biggest plea to him: to bring my mother to the castle to live. Instead, he’d taken me from the brothel so I could work in his stables, while he’d left her behind. I had received word within a moon cycle that she had suffered from consumption and died.

I was like his favorite play toy that he both cherished and abused.

It was always easy to gauge which disposition he would be in that day. And tonight, his rage was as evident as ever. It was best to leave with the utmost haste before he vented by hurting me.

Except he lifted his hand, halting me before I could escape.

Dammit.

I just hoped my thrashing wouldn’t be too severe.

Squinting, he asked, “Do you sneak in here and spy on me often, whipping boy?”

Nearly every day.

I shook my head, however, and looked him straight in the eye. “Tonight just seemed like a special occasion, Your Majesty. I was merely curious.”

“Curious?” The king pinched his expression into a scowl. “Curious? Why, you damned nuisance!”

Picking up his bowl still filled with bread rolls—since he’d already thrown his goblet—he heaved it at my head, missing me with the bowl when I ducked to the side out of the way, while still managing to pelt me in the arm with a hardtack of rye.

“How dare you think you have the right to my private business, you worthless w***e’s son. God, how I wish it’d been Murdock and not you who’d come home from that bloody battle. Why couldn’t you have been the one to die?”

I didn’t answer, wisely remaining mute as I watched his cheeks fill with angry color.

“Why did you have to be the only pathetic bastard to ever come back from either of those blasted wars we declared on them? No one returned but you. That’s not how it was supposed to happen.”

“By God, you’re right,” Greggor said suddenly, sitting up in his chair as if a brilliant idea had just occurred to him. “He is the only one of us who’s been to Donnelly and back.” Spinning toward the king, he added, “Tor, I believe we just found the very person we need to send on your crusade to kidnap that princess.”

“What?” I cried with horrified doom. “The f**k if you have!”

Over my dead body was I going to kidnap Princess Nicolette so they could r**e and m**m her.

The king seemed similarly appalled. “You can’t possibly be suggesting I send Farrow to Donnelly?”

“Why not?” Greggor shrugged. “What’s so wrong with the idea?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Torrance blustered. “Well, he—it—this is an honorable king’s mission, worthy of great praise and the highest esteem. And he’s a f*****g bastard.”

Only thanks to you, I wanted to mutter.

“Then it’s no loss if Donnelly catches him and slices his throat before he completes the task,” Greggor said in such a logical tone that I lifted my eyebrows his way, but he paid me no heed. “Think about it, Tor. He’s the only person from Far Shore who’s been to the Kingdom Within the Sand and lived long enough to return and tell us about it. Hell, he claims he’s even been inside their Iron Castle.”

I had, but my father huffed in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not as if he hasn’t been trained by our knights’ royal guard either,” Greggor went on, motioning toward me. “You certainly had no qualms about sending him off to battle five years ago with the rest of your elite crew.”

“That’s only because he was on the front line,” the king grumbled reluctantly. “I expected him to die within the first five minutes in the hopes it’d give my experienced warriors ample time to breach the castle.”

Wow. I was really feeling the love here.

“Well, he didn’t die, and he was able to breach the castle walls himself. So what’s to say he can’t now as well? He’s our best chance. We can send him in, clandestine this time, with two knights for assistance, and he can snatch the Donnelly b***h for us, right out from under her fat brother’s nose.”

The king scowled, wringing his hands. “I don’t know. I want someone experienced, someone I can trust to get the job done.”

I arched an eyebrow, offended to the root of my being.

The idiotic asshole had no idea he’d never find anyone as loyal to him as I was. I could’ve taken off to anywhere after Nicolette helped me escape the Iron Castle. I could’ve done anything. But I had come home. To him. While a part of me hated him and resented everything he’d ever done to me and my mother, another part was more strongly tied to him than anyone else in the Outer Realms.

The man was my father. Aside from his daughters, he was the only family I had left. Evil or not, he was who I served.

But I said none of that to him. Despite the fact he could trust me more than any of his dignitaries or special knights, this was not a quest I wanted to take.

I mean, k********g the princess of Donnelly? Nicolette? No. I wouldn’t. She had saved me. I was alive because of her. I had no desire to kidnap anyone, but I especially couldn’t pay her back by dragging her to what would become her own death. And a brutal, drawn-out, traumatic, painful death, at that.

So I stayed as quiet as possible, hoping the king would follow his gut instincts and not listen to his top advisor for once in his life.

But Greggor—damn him—was too slick for his own good. “I don’t know, Your Majesty,” he murmured, eyeing me as if he could see inside my head. “Given the proper incentive, Farrow here might be more reliable to fulfill this quest than anyone in all of Far Shore.”

I narrowed my eyes. The douche might’ve just complimented me, but I’d never trusted him. Whatever Greggor was thinking, I already knew I wouldn’t like it.

“What do you mean?” the king asked curiously, and I shook my head, wishing he’d just disregard the damn advisor’s suggestion already. Find someone else for his stupid mission. Or better yet, just forget about the idiotic idea altogether.

But he didn’t.

“The boy’s quite fond of that middle girl of yours, isn’t he?” Greggor’s top lip curled into a wicked snarl as he watched my face drain of color. Then he rasped one word.

“Sable.”

And just like that, my entire world shifted on its axis.

Cold, slippery dread slithered through my system.

I immediately waved both my hands, disagreeing. Whatever he wanted to do that involved Sable, I was out. She was an innocent twelve-year-old child. Why should she be brought into any plans that involved k********g another kingdom’s princess? This already sounded disastrous.

“No,” I said.

But the panic on my face only caused the king to blink in surprise before he motioned to his advisor. “Keep talking.”

“No,” I growled more vehemently as Greggor said, “We could hold the child in the dungeon until Farrow returns with the Donnelly b***h. And if he fails his mission…” He glanced at me and smiled. “Sable dies.”

“What?!” I shouted. “The hell you say.” Turning to my father, I was even more horrified because I could tell the ignorant ass was actually considering this madness. “Have you lost your damn mind?” I boomed. “How could you even ponder such a ridiculous notion? Sable is your daughter.”

King Torrance shrugged. “And you’re my—” He cut himself off before finishing the sentiment.

I held my breath, wondering if this was going to be the moment of truth, when he finally called me son. My heart beat hard in my chest, yearning for that one word, while my stomach churned, also dreading it. Being his would mean I actually belonged somewhere; I was someone. But did I really want to be the heir of this brute?

He snickered and waved a hand. “Well, whatever you are. You’re both equally useless to me, so…” He motioned toward a pair of guards by the entrance of the room. “Fetch the girl.”

“No. Stop! Wait.” I rushed toward the guards to waylay them, but the king waved his hand again, and four more knights stepped into my path, blocking my way.

I snarled at them before whirling back to the king. s**t had just gotten real. With Sable involved, my will collapsed like a poorly dug well.

“You don’t have to involve her,” I told him. “I’ll do it!”

The king lifted an eyebrow.

Swallowing, I reiterated, “I’ll kidnap the princess, Nicolette, and take the mission. I don’t need incentive. You’re my king. Far Shore is my home. It would be an honor to serve you in any capacity. Just don’t bring Sable into this.”

But even as I said the words, acid swirled in my stomach. I’d be betraying the girl who’d saved me. I would doom Nicolette. There would be no honor in my actions.

To spare Sable, however, I had no choice. My sister’s safety came first. Always.

“Sable is useful,” I insisted. “Someday, you can marry her off to another kingdom and form an alliance with them, just like—”

“An alliance?” my father spat incredulously. Then he sniffed and sat back, throwing up a hand to hush me. “Except I don’t want another goddamn alliance. Not any longer. They denied me once, so they no longer deserve me. Now, I just want to crush them all. Alliances be damned. I’d rather rule everyone as I see fit.”

“Okay,” I said, my mind scrambling for ideas before I snapped my fingers, coming up with one. I pointed at him. “Then you’ll need smart and loyal emissaries to send out and make sure your law is being enforced out there. And Sable is the brightest. She could do any number of things to serve Far Shore.”

The king ignored my pleas and turned his attention to Greggor. “We should have a new torture device crafted and finished by the time the Donnelly b***h arrives. Something we could set up in the village square so all can watch her downfall. Something that keeps her legs spread and titties jiggling while I f**k her into submission. Don’t you think?”

Greggor gave a thoughtful nod before smirking. “Only if I get a turn at it too.”

“My dear friend,” the king answered benevolently, pressing a hand to his heart. “But of course. There’s very little I’ve never shared with you, is there not?”

While the two traded conspiring chuckles, I gagged on my own bile and then swallowed raggedly. But dear God. I’d always known they were soulless. Both of them. This, however, was revolting.

“You can’t do this,” I blurted.

Wrong thing to say.

Sometimes, I could get away with talking to the king as Greggor did. But apparently, I’d reached my limit tonight.

My father arched a severe eyebrow. “But can’t I? Which one of us is the king here?”

The guards sent to detain Sable returned then, dragging the quivering, confused, and clearly frightened child into the throne room. She was still wearing her nightgown, for God’s sake, and her feet were bare.

The sight was more than I could take.

“Wait!” Leaping between her and the king, I lifted my hands, determined to talk my way out of this. I had failed my mother, but I would not fail my sister. “I’ll do anything. You absolutely cannot send her to the dungeon.”

“The what?” Sable cried, her eyes growing wide and her trembling increasing. “But what did I do wrong? I only left my room for those few minutes.” Reaching out to catch the sleeve of my tunic, she sobbed, “Farrow, what’s happening?”

I glanced at her and gripped her hand, my gaze apologetic and worried. Then I turned back to the king. “Please. She’s lived an indulged life; she’s not equipped to survive in such conditions. She’ll expire within a fortnight.”

My father waved an unconcerned hand. “Then I suggest you start your journey with the utmost haste, so she won’t suffer long.”

I shook my head. “It’ll take a moon cycle just to reach Donnelly and back, not to mention the amount of time I’ll need to complete my mission. Make her stay up in her rooms if you must, but not the dungeon. I beg you.”

“My word is final,” was all the king would allow. He flicked out a single finger. “Take her down now.”

“No!” I clutched Sable’s hand desperately, but a line of knights plowed into me, separating us roughly as they pulled Sable away.

“Sable?” I called, my fingers still straining her way.

But so many guards came between us that I could no longer even see her. All I could hear was her panicked voice as she screamed, “Farrow!” just before it was cut short and muffled.

“Son of a b***h! Stop.” I tried to move to the side, just to see her. “That is your princess, you fools. Go gently now.” But the guards moved with me, blocking my view. “Sable?”

And just as quickly as that, the guards stepped back.

I fell to my knees when I found that Sable was gone, already dragged away with her fate sealed. I sobbed out a sound and bowed my face, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to think. But I couldn’t come up with a sound plan.

Doom settled hard in my gut. I looked up at the king one last time, hoping to change his mind with the agony in my stare alone. But he wasn’t even paying any attention to me. He was too busy, scanning his remaining knights before he picked out two.

“You and you. Accompany the bastard to Donnelly. None of you return until you have their b***h princess in your possession. Otherwise, you’ll occupy a space in the dungeon next to your princess. Is that understood?”

The two nodded intently. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

And thus, it was decided.

There was nothing else I could do. His mind was set, and Sable’s life depended on me and my success in securing Princess Nicolette.

King Torrance lifted his eyebrows at me before repeating, “I said, is that understood?”

My teeth ground together hard as something inside me broke. Maybe it was my heart. Maybe it was my allegiance and loyalty. But it caused the fragmented shards to scatter until they reassembled into something that resembled defiance.

For, suddenly, I wanted to spit in his eye, pound my fists into his face, haul him down to the dungeon by his damned fur collar, and have him personally unlock Sable from her cell. But any of those options would be my own death, which would probably warrant Sable’s demise as well.

So I pushed stonily to my feet and glared, deciding once and for all that I no longer wished to be his son. I just wanted his pain.

“Understood,” I seethed.

He sniffed arrogantly, gleaning pleasure from my subordination. “Good.”

Unable to stomach the sight of him a moment longer, I turned away and hitched my chin toward the two guards who’d been assigned to me. They marched forward to flank me on either side.

“Gather what we’ll need for the journey ahead,” I told them, my voice hollow and chest still compacted tight with an ugly mix of anger, fear, panic, and dazed shock.

This was really happening. Sable would die if I didn’t kidnap Princess Nicolette. “We’ll meet in the courtyard in half an hour to depart.”

The sooner we got there and back, the sooner I could free Sable.

If she didn’t expire before I returned.

Dammit all to hell, my affection for her was what had caused this. This was the second time my caring for another person had endangered her life. But never again. This time, I would save the one I loved.

As I raced to my stall in the stables so I could gather everything I’d need for the trip, I made another promise to myself.

I swore I’d never care for anyone that strongly again. It only doomed them.

No one else I treasured would suffer because of me, so I’d just never treasure anyone.

It was safer that way.