“Yes,” he said, and his mouth turned up into a wide grin. I had not noticed the resemblance between the king and my husband before, but their smiles were definitely the same. “And about what you have done to him.”
My breath hitched in my throat, and I felt panic tighten my limbs. What had I done to Branford that would cause the king of all of Silverhelm to come to our rooms? Was it about Janet and bringing her back here? Was it about Branford touching me during the time of isolation?
“My king?” I whispered, for they were the only words I could form.
“It is not a bad thing, Alexandra,” King Camden said softly. “Quite the contrary, in fact.”
“What have I done to Branford?” I asked, truly confused now.
“I have never seen him so taken with another human being,” Camden said softly. “His horse, yes, and even his dogs, but never a person—never a woman. He has not allowed himself to feel for anyone in so long…”
The king’s voice trailed off, and I was not sure if I should respond to him or if I should keep quiet.
“And you care for him too, do you not?”
His bright blue eyes were so intense as he looked at me, for a moment, I could not respond.
“Yes, my king.” I took a deep breath and corrected myself. “Camden.”
He laughed through his nose, another trait I likened to Branford, and just as quickly as his nephew often did, his mood changed and his eyes darkened.
“He is haunted by his past,” Camden said. “Do you realize this?”
“Yes, my king.”
“He takes his anger out on my people.”
I looked up to Camden’s eyes again and saw the sadness inside.
“He is my only heir,” Camden said. “Sunniva and I were not able to have our own children, and there was a time I thought I would have to take more…‘drastic measures’ to obtain a suitable heir. It would have hurt Sunniva so much if I had. When Branford and Ida came to us, Sunniva took them both in as her own. Since he was already of my blood, I had my son and heir. I could not love him more if he were my true son and not my nephew, but that has not always been in the best interest of my people. I have allowed many of his transgressions, even when they were to the detriment of others, in hopes that he would somehow come to terms with his mistrust and anger before it could do true harm.”
Camden walked slowly toward the window and looked out onto the castle grounds.
“I feared his anger would put my people at undue risk, and it still may,” he said, continuing, “but for the first time, I feel there is hope for Silverhelm and its future king.”
He took a step toward me and placed his finger under my chin.
“You have given me that hope, Alexandra.”
“I have?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“In only a handful of days, you have already tempered him,” Camden said. “When he speaks of you, there is a light in his eyes I have not seen since he was a small boy—since before my brother and his wife were killed.”
My mind recounted Branford’s tale of being trapped inside the bench seat of a carriage while his parents were murdered, his mother brutalized. How could such a thing not affect a small child, even as he grew into adulthood? He could not trust others, for those closest to him had betrayed him so viciously, leaving him scarred inside his heart. But who had truly been behind it?
“Was it King Edgar?” I asked with trepidation. I knew so little of my king’s personality, and I feared my question was too forward. He did not seem affronted as he answered.
“There is no evidence,” he said and then sighed. “The four men responsible had been in my brother’s employ for many years when they turned traitorous. We do not know if they were enemies of the Sterlings from the very beginning or if they were influenced later. Branford has his suspicions, yes, but he has no direct evidence. I am more inclined to believe Edgar jumped on an opportunistic time to seize nearby lands rather than caused my brother’s death.”
Camden sighed deeply and cast his gaze out the window again.
“I have to believe that way,” he said quietly. “If I were to accuse another royal family as Branford has done, it would be seen as an act of war. I do not want to bring my people to war when I cannot be sure of the reason. Branford is a fighter—a soldier—but he has not seen true war in his young life. I have. I understand the consequences, and he does not. He has only had revenge on his mind until he brought you here as his wife.”
The king stepped close to me and reached out to take my hand in his.
“I came here to thank you for that, Alexandra,” King Camden said, “and to beg you to…to continue whatever it is you are doing that makes my son so happy.”
“Of course, my king.” I knew I was blushing, for I had a fair guess as to the reason Branford was happy in my company. I remembered Camden’s eyes when he spotted our behavior at the dinner table, and felt even more heat on my face.