For two days, Chase languished in bed, his body slowly healing. Ever a gracious host, Margarette ensured his total comfort by providing nourishing broth and solid food as he regained his strength. She tended to his ailments daily, her gentle hands expertly cleaning his stitched wounds and reapplying the bandages. He assumed it had been her who had sewn him up, though he refrained from asking.


    Over that time, he used his idle hours to piece together the events that had brought him there. He recalled the fight within the palace, Amira''s desperate plea for him to escape. He saw again his stumbling passage through the hallways and into the yard, the satisfying crunch of his fist connecting with the guard''s jaw.


    Past that, there was nothing but pain and darkness, the memories a hazy blur. Clearly, he''d sought refuge. With limited options and waning strength guiding his steps, he must have been drawn to Margarette''s home, which led him to her doorstep.


    Despite her kindness and aid, a nagging suspicion lingered. Some sense there was more to her help than shared history and friendship. The signs were subtle, yet there.


    The lingering gazes as she administered to him, the familiar touches of her hands upon his bare skin, the seeming accidental brushes of her body against his. Her rapt attention to his words during their frequent conversations was another clue, with her hanging on his every word. He dismissed these thoughts as a product of nerves and uncertainty.


    Margarette arrived that morning at her usual time with a tray of breakfast in hand. "I think we can try getting you out of bed today if you feel up to it." A sly smile played across her face as she spoke. Her preference that he remain helpless in bed was evident, but he ignored it.


    "I''m ready," he replied, avoiding her gaze as he reached for a boiled egg.


    Yesterday, after she had left him, he''d taken his first tentative steps around the room. His weakness was still a factor, but his spirit remained undeterred. Today, he felt stronger, ready to face the challenge. Despite his suspicions as to her intentions, he owed his recovery to her tender care.


    "Good, finish your breakfast, and I''ll change your bandages," she stated with anticipation. I''ve had some news from the palace," she added. His hand froze en route to his mouth, his heart pounding. "You neglected to tell me you were in such trouble," she chided him with a playful smile on her lips.


    "What twisted story would Kasiam have everyone believe?" He whispered with a hint of worry. He could imagine the lies he was about to hear.


    "First, you are declared outlaw," she told him, seeming unconcerned with the news. "A bounty has been placed upon your head. Hunters from across the realm will be on your trail."


    "On what charge?" Chase pressed, his curiosity tempered with a growing sense of dread.


    "Two charges, actually," she advised him. "Treason against the King and realm, and the murder of royal officials."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "I only killed one," his voice rose in protest. "The other I knocked senseless."


    "Indeed," she agreed. "You were never one for subtlety." Her smile cut through his ire. "Prince Androw has been declared illegitimate. Apparently, there''s a claim that you are his true father rather than our dear departed King." She paused then, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "Tell me, dear Chase, were you bedding our Queen?"


    "We are lovers," he told her. He had some feeling that she already knew the fact. "Though I swear on my life that Prince Androw is legitimate, he is the true Heir," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "Our affair began after his birth."


    Disappointment flickered across her face with a hint of jealousy and regret. "Regardless, it has landed you in trouble," she replied. "And without proof…"


    "I need not prove it," he replied with vehemence. "I simply need to free her and the prince from the palace." He had a singular focus and one goal: to get them to safety. After that, they could sort things out.


    "You''ll find that rather difficult, I believe," she replied, a mischievous shine in her eye. She took the dish from him and placed it on the table. "Come on, it''s time to get you up."


    As he swung his legs out of the bed, Margarette offered him her arm. Her touch was comforting. "Oof, you''re a solid lout," she teased him, her free hand resting on his lower back as he braced himself against the bedpost. He steadied himself for a moment as she continued.


    "The Queen and Heir are detained," she revealed. "Held in the tower. They are being treated with respect but are prisoners for certain." He heard shock and anger in her words.


    Chase masked his anger at the situation, his heart beating hard. He couldn''t imagine that Kasiam possessed the audacity or support to seize power. Clearly, he''d been plotting this for some time, and it seemed that the Regent had allies among the nobility. To hide his growing dismay, Chase attempted to walk away from the bed''s support, brushing aside Margarette''s offer of assistance.


    "There''s more," she continued. "A rumour has started in the city. News of a coronation and a royal wedding. The public seems to believe that your beloved Amira is to be wed to our new High King."


    A wave of fresh nausea washed through him, and his heart pounded harder. Margarette wore a slightly smug expression when revealing the rumour. He stumbled on the news with a staggering blow, a shock coupled with his weakness. "I believe she would rather die," he stated in disbelief. The thought of Amira marrying another was unbearable.


    "That may be," Lady Whitmore mused, a hint of sympathy filled her voice. "I believe she would do almost anything to protect Androw though, regardless of her personal feelings."


    His unsteady legs caused him to sway. Margarette moved closer, tucking herself under his arm, her free hand resting on his chest. Her eyes were filled with a warmth that surprised him and held a further depth of emotion that he could not decipher.


    "Poor Chase," she said with sympathy. "Don''t fret, it''s rumours. You know how the common folk are." She paused then, eyes lingering on his face. "Although, if it''s not…" She leaned towards him, her lips brushing his. He did not respond to the kiss, and when she pulled away, he noted the disappointment in her eyes. She stepped back suddenly distant. "Perhaps later," she mused. "If these rumours are proven true." She stated, as a matter of fact.


    "Margarette," he began, mollifying and filled with guilt. "It''s not that I don''t appreciate all you''ve done, the risks you''ve taken. I just… I don''t see you that way, you know. You''re a married woman." His heart ached for Amira; his disbelief that she would accept marriage to Kasiam remained unwavering.


    "Enough, Chase," she said, angry and hurt. "I''ll leave you for now; just know I see you that way. I always have, as much as our Amira does. We used to talk about you all the time." She turned and left the room, her back stiff.