“No.” Aerity’s voice was resolute. “I need to know what is going on. The kingdom’s burdens are mine as well as yours.”
The queen’s eyes watered. “This beast. It’s too strong, too vicious. The men say their war cries only taunt it. My girl . . . I’m frightened for what’s to come.”
Aerity shivered and pulled her mother against her. She needed her mother to stay strong, for all of them. She’d never seen her like this. “Everything will be all right, Mama. Father will figure something out.”
She hoped if she kept saying it, it would become truth.
Aerity held hands with her mother as news was issued in the king’s office.
“Three fishermen were reported missing. Traces of their remains were found at daybreak at the sea’s edge. They were . . .” The adviser swallowed hard. “Their bodies were spread over a vast area, as if the beast had dragged them about.”
Nausea filled Aerity.
Lady Ashley clung to her husband’s elbow and leaned her face against his arm. “It has to stop,” she whispered.
Aerity agreed. The tales were unbearable. Everything around her felt fragile.
The king leaned his knuckles against his desk, his eyes shut tightly.
“Your Majesty.” One of his commanders stepped forward. “The number of men willing to enter the forest to fight the beast has dwindled to nearly nothing. Wives of soldiers are lined at the castle walls during daylight hours, begging for mercy for their husbands, pleading for them not to be forced into the woods.” The man sounded desperate, almost frantic. “The kingdom is petrified with fear. Businesses are shutting down because some fear leaving their homes, even during the day. Some have taken the opportunity to loot. Many are fleeing to the coldlands of Ascomanni or the mountains of Toresta.”
“Enough,” the king said in a growl. “Everyone leave me. I need to think.” He pushed up and went to the window-lined wall, staring out as the others filed away in silence. Aerity’s mother squeezed her hand before taking her leave. When the room cleared, Princess Aerity walked to her father’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Father . . .”
He continued to stare out the window, his anxiety obvious. Without looking at her he reached up and gave her hand a single pat.
“While I’ve been busy, you’ve grown into a young woman. You call me father now, not papa.”
Aerity’s heart softened. How long had it been since they’d spoken one-on-one?
“I thought I was prepared for anything. I prided myself on defending this kingdom against rebels and uprisings and foreign invasion. To be bested by a single creature . . . to see my people in despair . . .”
Her grip tightened on his shoulder. “You’ve not been bested. There is hope. You’re doing all you can, Father.”
“Am I?” He looked at her now, his watery eyes scanning her face. He ran a hand through his hair, overgrown strands of light red. He was a man in his prime, and Aerity didn’t like seeing his strength frayed.
“I don’t like being pushed to desperate measures,” he whispered, almost to himself.
Aerity swallowed back her emotions enough to speak. “Any who know you do not doubt that you act out of love for the kingdom. Always. Do what you must.”
He stared back out the window until Aerity’s hand fell away from him.
“Seas forgive me,” he whispered. Princess Aerity left her father to think, having no idea how her own words would come to affect her.
Chapter
5
The castle windows remained tightly locked, denying the rooms and halls of their usual scented breeze, stifling the royal living spaces. That evening when Vixie and Donubhan feigned nightmares, Aerity let them cram into her bed. It left Aerity tired in the morning after being kicked and nudged and snored at all night, but she was glad to be able to comfort them. And their nearness was a comfort to her as well.
Something had to be done. The entire kingdom of Lochlanach was exhausted. Frazzled. On the verge of self-destruction. If the beast wasn’t caught and killed soon, fear would overtake the lands.
Fear was a dangerous, unpredictable weapon.
Princess Aerity wasn’t surprised when her father called a royal family meeting the following day. She wondered what extreme measures he had decided upon, and hoped the people of the kingdom would come to understand and support him. One thing Aerity had learned from being the daughter of a king is that sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.
They filed into High Hall—even cousin Wyneth, who left her bed for the first time since Breckon’s death. Aerity was proud of her for coming. She forced herself not to pounce on her cousin with affection, instead holding Wyneth’s hand tightly as the older women doted on her, smoothing her curls and flooding her with greetings.
