Loving the Forbidden Prince

ETAN

It was then that Etan realized she had no idea about him. Did not know—or had not accurately measured—the kind of man he was. She thought she frightened him. She believed him intimidated by her sick power. 

She thought she called to his weakness, not his strength, when she challenged his faith.

He to had to stifle a smile. He could not let her see the relief in him. 

"Certainly," he said smoothly. "I do believe the Father protects me from the likes of your… power," he said carefully. 

She tilted her head. "And yet, you say it has been used against you once already?"

"Father says no weapon formed against him will stand—not that they will never exist."

She smiled. "Brave words."

"I am a brave man."

Her eyebrows arched. She liked that answer and he felt an odd kind of pleasure mingled with disgust. She was Ayleth's mother. He had to attempt to build some kind of useful connection with this woman. And yet everything within him recoiled. There was something dark within her. The question was, did that darkness outweigh the light of her love for her daughter? Or did love win in her heart?

Etan gathered he was about to find out.  "You say this spell requires submission?"

"Willingness, yes. You must be willing to answer with truth for it to be truly effective."

"Then how would you know? I could simply say I am willing, then lie."

She shook her head. "The weaves will… punish you for deception."

Etan's eyes narrowed. "Punish me how?"

"They cause pain to a level that correlates with the level of deception."

"And how are they removed?"

"I must sustain them. I can only be in your presence to do so. Once the weaves break or fade, they will no longer work."

Help me, Father, Etan prayed silently. Help me see the angles and answer with wisdom.

She waited patiently as he thought, her eyes never leaving his.

Etan swallowed. "In that case… You may ask me your questions and use your weaves, but your questions will center only on my feelings for Ayleth, and my intentions towards her. You will ask nothing about my kingdom, my rule, my parent's plans… nothing outside the realm of my relationship with Ayleth. You may place no other spells or influence on me, and if you should do so, may the Father of Lights curse you where you stand."

She blinked, but her expression did not change. Etan stifled another smile. 

"Very well, I accept your terms," she said. "There seems no reason to delay. May I begin?"

Etan took a deep breath, sent up another prayer for protection and wisdom, then nodded. 

She began to breath words he did not understand, her lips moving rapidly, but everything else about her, still. Her eyes lit with those strange, white-blue flames that circled the iris of her eyes, and sent his skin crawling. The light from them increased the longer she spoke.

He could not see what she did, but as she whispered and muttered, he felt the weaves slide along his skin, like fast-growing vines, circling his limbs to hold him, wrapping his chest, and his head, gripping him in some way that put him in mind of an insect's cling.

It was the most disturbing sensation he had ever experienced, but he did not allow himself to show it. 

He felt nothing within himself, and for that he was grateful. It was only as if he were held in place by… something invisible. And as if that thing waited for something.

Then she stopped whispering and smiled. "Do you love my daughter?" she said, her eyes glowing.

"Yes," he answered simply. "With my whole heart." He waited, but there was no answering pain, no tension in the weaves on him. He knew the answer was true, but he hadn't been sure she truly wanted to  know it.

"Did you give her the blood vow on the first night you met?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we were enemies, but my soul called to her. As soon as I was certain who she was, and who we were to each other, I knew we needed something tangible between us to hold us close when others tried to tear us apart. I knew she was mine—meant for me. I wanted her to be certain I would not waver, and I wanted to show her that my words were not a plot."

The Queen's lips pursed and he felt the weaves tighten, but there was no pain. He held her gaze and waited. 

"Was there anything within you that sought political gain—alongside your…feelings—when you offered the blood vow?"

Etan spluttered a laugh. "You jest, surely?" he leaned slightly closer towards her. "Before I even knew for sure, when I only suspected who she was, I tried to tell myself I could not pursue it, despite the… pull I felt towards her. Her parents are our blood sworn enemies. My Court would reject her, my people might revolt. Loving her was a potential death-sentence that I may still face. But I could not deny it—and I pray, desperately, every day, to find a way through this that doesn't bring about the end of my rule, or a revolution in my people. I pray I can survive this to continue to love her."

The Queen sat back on the couch, examining him. "Your devotion is… admirable."

"It is true, and real, and she knows it, even if you do not."

"Be honest with me now, Etan, the weaves will know," she warned. "Tell me… Is ther any danger, any true threat that would keep you from her?"

"Nothing," he said, emphatic.

"Is there any person on the earth that would tempt you from her?"

"No one." He seethed at the thought of what the Queen meant. 

But the woman didn't flinch or soften. "My daughter is beautiful and strong, but she is very naïve. I take it you are a man of the world?"

"Not anymore, but I was once, yes."

"You have reformed your life?"

"The Father reformed me, yes. I ceased chasing skirts years ago, and haven't been truly drunk for almost as many. I am not perfect, Your Highness, but I am true."

"Yet, it would be difficult for such an inexperienced woman to please you, I imagine."

Etan was so angry, he took a deep breath before answering, and the Queen noticed, her eyes lighting with curiosity. "I will not speak of my wife in… graphic terms, even to her mother. I yearn to protect not only her modesty, but the sacred nature of what passes between us. But I will tell you this: There is no form of union between man and woman that I have experienced that does not pale when compared to what I found in Ayleth. Experience is not needed to for love, and she gives her heart fully. She trusts me, and I her. That is where true…satisfaction lies, and we have it in spades. You offend me to imply otherwise."

Just then, a surge of emotion from Ayleth—frustration, anger, fear, coursed through the bond to him and Etan's breath caught. He closed his eyes instinctively, as if the Queen might somehow see Ayleth in his eyes.

She could find him, he remembered. Ayleth could find him here with her mother. He could feel her in the castle, somewhere off to his right, but far away. 

What was she thinking just then to feel those things so strongly? Had she learned that her mother could not be located? Or had something else happened?

"Pain?" the Queen asked, as if she were startled.

Etan shook his head. "Not from your weaves," he spat. "Finish your questions. I must find my wife and be a comfort to her."

The Queen smirked. "Soon," she said. "I have two more questions."

"Then ask them," he snarled. "Why do you play coy? Clearly you can see that I am true. I do not hide from you—and my feelings for Ayleth are real. This time would be better spent bringing our nations together, figuring out how to convince the King to allow the union so that both Ayleth and I are safe."

"A bold assumption, that would want to bring our nations together."

Etan frowned. "You said your concern for Ayleth was for my feelings for her. That that would sway you about which way to influence the King."

"I did, and I spoke true," she said quietly. 

"Then ask your questions and let us to get to the place where we might form alliance and be certain of a unified goal!"

The Queen's face remained expressionless and her voice light and casual as she tipped her head and said, "Come now, Etan. I told you that the King would recognize the union if it was legal and consummated. But recognition is not approval. The King will not share your goal." She leaned forward, elbows in her lap and hands clasped before her. She spoke as a mother would to a child.  "You and I both know there is nothing in law, or royal decree, that forbids a widow to remarry."

An ice cube slid down Etan's spine.

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