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Gary had been given strict orders to stay exactly where he was, outside the throne room to stop any intruders or eavesdroppers while the queen and prince had a discussion, but it got a lot more difficult to obey those orders when he heard shouting.
He shared a concerned look with Ritchie, who stood guard beside him. Neither dared say a word, but it was clear Ritchie was thinking the same thing Gary was—that sounded bad. Gary spent little time interacting with the queen directly, any time they were in the same room usually being a time he was expected to stand quietly by his prince’s side (and often staved off boredom by whispering jokes and sarcastic comments in Tracey’s ear when nobody was looking and watching him struggle to stifle his laughter), but he knew his prince well enough to know that conversations with Tracey rarely involved shouting like that.
And though he couldn’t make out the words, Tracey sounded seriously upset. He remembered the last time Tracey had been that upset, and his blood turned to ice.
He knew what this conversation was about.
Ritchie didn’t, but he must’ve seen something on Gary’s face, because he tentatively spoke up. “Should one of us check if everything is okay in there?”
“I will,” Gary said. If he could get in there, he could offer Tracey some form of comfort, and try to defend him from what his mother wanted for a little longer.
But before he could open the door, it was shoved open from the inside and Tracey came storming out, not even sparing a glance at Gary in his haste as he took off down the hall.
“Be reasonable!” His mother called after him. “Think of the kingdom!”
That was low. If anyone asked Gary, Tracey spent too much time thinking about the kingdom. The kingdom came before Tracey’s own happiness—otherwise, they probably would’ve run away together after one of their nights of clandestine kissing at the training grounds. Gary knew exactly how torn Tracey was between his responsibility to the kingdom and his own heart.
Though the queen had followed Tracey out, she stood in the doorway and watched him disappear around a corner instead of pursuing him further. She looked at the two knights—her brown eyes so much like Tracey’s, but devoid of his warmth and eager curiosity—and sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with this child. If you want to be called a prince, it shouldn’t be so much to ask to act like one.”
Gary forced down his anger—how dare anyone talk about his prince like that, but he couldn’t be getting himself punished for insubordination right when Tracey needed him. Even Ritchie looked shocked, though he probably barely understood what was going on.
“You two are dismissed,” she said. “Sir Garrett, do try and talk some sense into my child.”
Tracey definitely wasn’t the one that needed sense talked into them, but Gary nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
He took off to find Tracey.
Tracey was in the garden, sitting beneath some wisteria blossoms with his knees drawn up to his chest, when a familiar voice called his name.
“Tracey!” Gary was at his side a moment later. “I had a feeling I’d find you here. Are you okay?”
Tracey started to nod, then shook his head instead. The scent of the flowers above his head was doing little to calm him down, and even the combee buzzing around couldn’t brighten his mood—not with a future he’d hoped against all logic he could somehow avoid looming over him, overshadowing it all. “No, I’m… she said there would be no more putting it off. I’m be—”
His voice broke, and he couldn’t bring himself to continue. Gary clearly understood regardless. He took Tracey’s hand, stroking a ring finger that wouldn’t be unadorned much longer.
Betrothed.
The young queen of the Cerulean Kingdom was unmarried, but had seemed less interested in marrying anyone herself than in finding marriages for her three younger sisters. She hadn’t yet found a suitor for Lily, the second youngest, but when Tracey’s mother had told her Tracey had been unengaged for too long for a crown prince with nobody else in line, she’d apparently agreed (tentatively, so don’t make this difficult, Tracey’s mother had said) to an eventual marriage between Tracey and her youngest sister, Misty.
He’d known Misty for years and they had a lot in common, but she was a friend, not someone he wanted to “produce an heir” with. (If he was completely honest, the thought of having to somehow produce an heir at all made his chest feel tight and heavy with dread, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around his midsection as if that would protect him.)
“Your highness?” Gary’s voice was soft, an edge of concern in it. “Is something wrong with your stomach?”
Not yet. “No, it’s fine.”
Gary frowned, but accepted that answer with a nod. “Her Majesty wanted me to ‘talk some sense into you.’” The biting sarcasm and disdain in his tone was a startling change from his gentleness a moment ago. The gentleness returned when he continued, “But instead I’m gonna remind you that wherever we are, I’ll always be your knight and I’ll always protect you.”
Tracey knew what he was implying, what neither of them would dare to say within the confines of the palace. Run away with me.
“I can’t,” Tracey said, as much as every fiber of his being ached to say yes. “I can’t abandon my people. There’s no telling what would happen to them, what she would do if we disappeared…”
There was no disappointment in Gary’s expression, just a fond and rueful smile. He’d clearly expected that answer. “Loyal to the kingdom even if it breaks your heart. Her Majesty doesn’t know you at all, does she?”
“I guess not.” Tracey looked down at his hand in Gary’s. His knight’s hands were tough, battle-worn, but held his so gently. “Thank you.”
“I’m here for you no matter what, your highness. Tracey,” Gary said. He looked around, then brought Tracey’s hand up to his lips to kiss it. “And as long as I live, I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”
Tracey wasn’t sure if it was the hopelessness of his future or the relief of Gary’s promise that overwhelmed him, but his eyes flooded and he buried his face in Gary’s shoulder.
Gary tensed for a brief moment before softening, wrapping his arms around Tracey. As Tracey struggled to breathe between sobs, throat aching with every choked breath, it felt like Gary’s lean-muscled arms holding tightly onto him were the only thing holding all the pieces of him together. He could feel Gary trembling too, but his brave knight’s voice was steady as he soothed, “I know, I know. I’m here. I’m sorry. We’ll get through this… somehow.”
As Tracey’s sobs finally tapered off, leaving him quietly trembling in Gary’s arms, Gary wondered how in the world they were going to get out of this one.
He’d never seen Tracey cry like that before. Tracey might get a little teary-eyed sometimes if he was outstandingly happy or sad or angry, or if Gary accidentally hit him too hard with a training sword during their secret spars, but he’d quickly blink them away. To be reduced to full-on sobbing… he had to be taking this really hard, and Gary didn’t blame him.
Gary couldn’t say he was okay about his prince being promised to someone else either. More than anything, it was Tracey’s situation that hurt. But that just because Gary had the blood of scholars and the training of warriors instead of rulers, he and Tracey could never fully belong to each other like they both wanted, had an ugly mixture of anger and jealousy and frustration simmering in his gut, and it made him want to go to the training grounds and shred some straw practice dummies while treasonously imagining they were the queen.
He kept these thoughts to himself. What would sweet, loyal, selfless Tracey think if he knew his once-honorable knight had turned into a selfish traitor? One who not only wanted to desert the kingdom with his prince, but to do something far worse if they couldn’t leave? His joke all that time ago about how anyone who tried to force Tracey into a marriage would die by his sword was beginning to feel less like a joke.
But he knew he wouldn’t go through with it, because he remembered what Tracey had said to him after he’d made that joke. But then you’d be executed, and I’d die of sadness for sure.
He couldn’t leave Tracey like that.
Of course, as king, Tracey could pardon him for his crime—no. He dismissed that treasonous thought. Tracey would be a great king when the time came, and Gary wasn’t going to stain the public view of his reign by making his first act as king pardoning a queenslaying knight. If that happened, everyone would know there was a reason—some might assume they were accomplices in crime, Gary just doing the dirty work so an ambitious prince could claim power; some might realize the truth. Gary wasn’t sure which would be worse.
Tracey suddenly stirred, raising his head to look at Gary. He still looked drained, lingering tear tracks on his face, but there was concern in his gaze. “You’re really tense.”
“I’m fine,” Gary lied.