Larnasia's Heir

By GR Taylor

The Realm of Larnasia: Larnasia’s Heir follows the story of Princess Alivia Farnican, the true heir to the Larnasian throne. When her father, King Sardimon, plots to have her assassinated so her brother can rule in her stead, her mother’s long-term friend and former lover, Galen, steps in to protect the princess until such a time when she is able to take what’s rightfully hers.

Arriving in Perdita, Galen and Alivia take on the guise of servants to the Pax family and become accustomed to a different way of life. As Alivia grows up with the Pax children, trust is forged, and friendships are formed.

Larnasia’s Heir is a coming of age story for Alivia as she grows up away from the trappings of the royal life that awaits her. When her guardian and the only father figure she’s ever known falls ill, Alivia must return home to Larnasia and to the fate that awaits her there. Will the friendships she's made last and romance still blossom, or will the truth mean Alivia must continue her journey alone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alexa Preece
• Release date: May 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463431238

Book preview

Chapter One

Silver moonlight shone through the stained glass windows of the old stone castle, creating a pool of colour on the stone floor in front of the King on his throne. He faced his companions, who gathered around the heavy oak table before him. Count Galen Lucas shifted uneasily in his chair as the conversation continued around him in muted whispers.

Just over half of the Barons and Counts who made up King Sardimon's council of advisors were present, himself included. The rest of those gathered were sorcerers whom, although Galen did not agree with the sentiment, King Sardimon trusted above all others – enough to summon them all to the castle in the dead of night while the other residents of the city slept on, unaware.

That he alone amongst those who often spoke up against the King had been invited to the gathering only served to tighten the cold coils of dread in his stomach. Galen's loyalty was not to his King; it was to Sardimon's wife, the Queen-Consort, and he was aware every other member of the council present knew it. He had known Queen Lilianna since childhood, and it was only his affection for her that had led to him accepting the surprise invitation to serve in King Sardimon's court.

Galen was not a foolish man; he knew there was a hidden reason for Sardimon inviting him to join the royal advisory council of Larnasia, no doubt an underhand motive he had tried to guess but had ultimately found he couldn't fathom. The Lucas family had lived in and served Larnasia's fair kingdom for generations but only in the capacity of hired help – healers and craftspeople. He was the first of his family to hold such an exalted position, but he had no one with whom to share his thoughts or fears and suspicions. His parents had died leaving him an only child, and his wife, Jana, had died many moons ago in childbirth, taking the soul of their only child, a daughter, with her into the afterlife.

King Sardimon swept his icy gaze over the seven sorcerers huddled around the table, his cool grey eyes gleaming as he came to Galen who, in turn, tensed his shoulders against a shudder.

My son will not reach the age of royal succession before my daughter, King Sardimon said suddenly, conversations ending abruptly as his voice resonated off the walls. But I wish to appoint Tarik as my heir, to succeed me as the next King of Larnasia.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the occupants of the room. Galen risked a glance at his fellow advisors to see if their reactions were similar to his own. The Boerean brothers, Jaron and Malus, exchanged uncertain looks, but as he had expected, Baron Fariad Rotacis and his old friend Count Kasif Furis nodded in apparent approval. Rotacis and Furis were the two oldest members of the council and by far the cruellest. As for the Counts Dughlas Anguine and Amadian Crue, they did not appear surprised at all by King Sardimon's words and the knot in Galen's stomach tightened. He had long since feared that the King would stage an intervention and that, somehow, Princess Alivia, would be denied her birthright.

How, Your Majesty? Jaron, the youngest of all council members and least intelligent of all of the sorcerers, asked. Does the law of Larnasia not state that the first born child is the one true and rightful heir...?

A well-timed nudge from his brother coupled with a vicious glare was enough to silence the young red-haired Baron. Although Galen wanted to see Sardimon's reaction to the question, he dared not lift his gaze from the scarred tabletop.

I am well aware of that, Jaron, the King replied disapprovingly. It is why I summoned you here, my most loyal and trusted advisors.

Unable to help himself, Galen glanced up at the King's words and saw with a surge of foreboding that Sardimon's gaze was directed towards him.

I have discussed this at length with Amadian and Dughlas, and there is only one conclusion to be reached, only one cause of action that would appease my concerns. Sardimon looked to Amadian, and it was evident from the proud expression on the Count's face that the course of action in question had originally been his idea. My daughter is not fit to be Queen. She would not rule Larnasia in the way to which you and I have become accustomed. She would ruin all of our hard work and set us back hundreds of annuals.

Yes, Galen thought with narrowed eyes, glaring at the cracks in the wood grain as though they were to blame. It would be such a shame if Larnasia were once again the beautiful and fair city it once had been.

She is Queen by birth, he heard the King say. The first child born to my wife and I. The only way Tarik could take my place and rule over our great realm and its cities would be if Alivia were somehow no longer able to fill the role. Should an unfortunate accident befall her, Tarik would then be free to take his rightful place as my heir and eventual successor.

Again, Galen risked glancing around the table to observe the reactions of the others. Again, he appeared to be alone in being disgusted by what the King was suggesting. Alivia was his first-born, and yes, she was the rightful heir and successor to the throne. At seven annuals old, Alivia was already so much more than her father ever could be. The people of the city adored her, as did the residents of the other cities over which Larnasia's royal family reigned. She had a positive aura, a goodness about her that gave the witchfolk who silently opposed Sardimon - and the non-magical members of the population - hope that one day, peace and tranquillity would return across the land.

Have you… determined what kind of unfortunate accident might one day befall the young princess? Furis's old blue eyes gleamed, his smile sly. Queen Lilianna is most protective of the child. It is hard to imagine she would allow any harm to come to her.

Lilianna would certainly not allow anything to happen to Alivia was she to know her daughter might be in danger. However, Sardimon added, his gaze locking with Galen's, there are a select few she would allow close to Alivia, few who could assist in ensuring such an accident be allowed to take place…

Galen remained expressionless. He understood the implication. Out of all eight men in the room, he knew he was the only one Lilianna would trust enough to allow near her daughter – near enough to hurt the child the hopes and dreams of many Larnasians were pinned on. It would not happen. He wouldn't do anything to hurt or damage Larnasia's chance at once again being the great realm it had been hundreds of annuals ago.

He refused to be baited even as the others discussed the form the accident could take. He cast another spell, hoping to avoid detection, shielding himself from their thoughts, from their voices, while appearing to be attentive. After several long hours of resisting all of their attempts to draw him into the conversation, fighting back all of their attempts at breaking through the mental shield and planting a suggestion he wouldn't be able to resist in his mind, Galen was left feeling almost entirely drained both physically and mentally. He excused himself as soon as he was able and left, hoping that his unsteady legs would support him for the duration of the walk home.

The spell he had cast was the only thing keeping him from falling prey to the worst type of curse that could befall a sorcerer in his position. He could sense the two sorcerers following him, the Boerean brothers, who were no doubt following orders while the others retired to comfortable rooms within the castle walls, just as he could sense their futile attempts at breaking through his shield and getting him to submit to their – King Sardimon's – will.

It wouldn't happen. It would never happen. Alivia was safe as long as he had breath in his lungs; he would not do anything to hurt either mother or child.

By the time he got home and stepped over the threshold of the house that his family had owned for generations, Galen was in need of the boost being within his ancestral home gave him. He closed and secured the door behind him, relaxing when he felt the ward built into the foundations of the house annuals ago rise around the doors and windows. He closed his eyes and let the power flow from the walls into him, letting it cleanse his body and ease his soul.

*

As small globes of light circled above and around her, Alivia Farican smiled in delight and clapped her hands. Her blue eyes grew wider as more and more globes appeared: blue, red, green, yellow, orange, purple. Laughing, she reached out to touch the orange one and, when it disappeared beneath her fingertips, a frown furrowed her brow until another distracted her.

Seeing the joy written across her daughter's face, Lilianna Farican, Queen-Consort of Larnasia, let herself relax. She should have known Alivia wouldn't let her failure to grasp the beauty that floated before her eyes upset her. Her daughter was a naturally happy child, and Lilianna had learned that it took a lot to ruin Alivia's good mood.

Her son was another matter entirely. The child she held in her arms, born two annuals after his sister but almost her physical size already, pouted at her and wailed every time she tried to put him down beside his sister. He was his father's son, through and through, she thought with a weary sigh, loving attention and loathing sharing it with anyone. And for a reason Lilianna would never truly understand, neither Tarik nor his father could bear being near Alivia for any longer than a few moments at a time.

Mama, look! Alivia's squeal made Lilianna look up and smile. The lights were no longer balls; now they were stars and moons and swirls of colourful mists. Lilianna could find pleasure in her daughter's gift when she was alone with her children, but she worried about the demonstrations of power when others were around.

Alivia was a special child, and while that made her proud as a mother, it also made her blood run cold. Lilianna would never admit to using her gift on her husband, but she once had, when Alivia was a baby, and she'd wanted to try and understand why her husband seemed to be spurning their first born child. Lilianna was an empath, a witch skilled in the art of picking up on vibes others gave off and deciphered what they meant. She knew he felt threatened by their oldest child, not just because of the murmurs of their people that Alivia would be a better ruler than he but because the child already possessed stronger powers and more talent at manipulating them than her father had shown in his one hundred and six annuals. Sadly, in the annuals that had passed since Alivia's birth, his fears had turned to hate.

Lilianna closed her eyes and blocked out at the sound of Tarik fussing. Inhaling slowly and deeply, she conjured up an image of her husband in her mind, focusing on his whereabouts, on his feelings, knowing that if she concentrated enough, she would be able to pick up a stray thought or two without him being aware of the mild psychic probe.

Suddenly, she saw hazy images and heard faint voices speaking as though from a great distance. A locked room and faces of men she didn't like or trust filled her mind as she heard her daughter's name followed by laughter, cold laughter, that made her feel nauseous.

Eyes fluttering open, Lilianna gasped and lifted a hand to her chest. She set her son down and picked up her daughter before Tarik could wail his disapproval at being so close to his sister and alert Sardimon to his displeasure by triggering the protection spell her husband had cast on their only son.

Although the light display disappeared when Alivia's concentration broke, she neither cried nor complained, cuddling closer to her mother who, in turn, held her tighter than usual. Clutching a handful of her mother's golden hair, she wound it around her fingers.

Her mother closed her eyes and cast a protection spell over the child in her arms. It wasn't very strong, but it would have to do. Anything stronger would be detectable by her husband, and she didn't want to have to answer his questions on why she felt it was necessary to shield Alivia from harm.

Mama? Alivia's bottom lip trembled as she reached up to touch Lilianna's cheek. Why are you so sad?

I'm not sad, my darling. Lilianna sighed, a tear running down her cheek despite her claim. Mama is okay, and you will be, too.

Alivia smiled uncertainly and stretched her fingers up just a little bit more, catching her mother's tear with a fingertip. As Lilianna watched, she withdrew her hand, inspected it and clenched her small fist. Her brow furrowed and she screwed her eyes shut, the intense concentration visible on her face. For you, Mama, she said, opening her eyes and giving her mother a dazzling smile. So you are not sad.

Willing to humour the child, Lilianna opened her palm and waited to be given an imaginary gift. Her eyes widened when Alivia placed a cool stone on her hand instead.

On closer inspection, she realised that a small, tear-shaped diamond sat in the middle of her palm. Closing her fingers around it, Lilianna clutched her daughter even closer. She closed her eyes and took in a shuddering breath, another tear slipping down her cheek as her daughter cuddled into the crook of her neck. I will not let them hurt you, Alivia. I swear to you. No matter what it takes from me, I will keep you safe.

*

He lifted the spoon to his lips, preparing to force the barely edible stew down his through but was saved by a timid knock at the door. Galen frowned, lowering the spoon back to his bowl. He turned in his chair at the small wooden table in his kitchen and stared speculatively at the back door to his house.

No one used the backdoor. The only time someone in Larnasia used the back entrance of someone's house would be if they would not be welcome through the front or if the business they were there to discuss wasn't appropriate. Affairs and romantic trysts behind spouse's backs, illegal exchanges of dark magic and spells and other sordid manners were the types of business done in such covert meetings and, as he wasn't involved in anything like that, his suspicions were instantly on full alert.

He activated his protective shield and stood up, mentally reaching through the wards that surrounded him and his property in an attempt at scanning the visitor outside. The psychic scent wasn't familiar; that at least meant his visitor wasn't a member of the advisory council, but it didn't mean it couldn't be someone else Sardimon had sent. Galen frowned and strengthened his search. Not likely considering his visitor was a member of the non-magical community if he was correct in identifying the strange difference in the scent of the person standing outside.

His guard dropped slightly, and he moved to the door, reaching out to unlock it tentatively. Whoever it was couldn't hurt him, he reasoned, not while he remained inside and the stranger remained outside uninvited. With that thought in mind, Galen swung open the door and stared appraisingly at the nervous young man standing in front of him.

Yes?

Please forgive the intrusion, Count Lucas, the boy stammered, thrusting a trembling hand holding a white envelope out in front of him. Queen Lilianna asked that I deliver this tonight.

At this hour? Galen stared at the envelope and the boy carrying it with obvious suspicion. He made no move to take the offered envelope, instead choosing to focus on discreetly probing the young boy's mind for any sign of subterfuge.

Queen Lilianna insisted. She said it was a matter of great importance.

Galen took pity on his visitor and reached out for the envelope. There were other tests he could carry out to check it was from the supposed sender. You are dismissed, boy. Get home. It is unsafe for the likes of you to be running around the streets at night.

The messenger was obviously relieved, a smile breaking out across his sweaty face. As he turned to leave, Galen sensed a mild protection spell on the boy and, recognising it to be Lilianna's, he strengthened it with one of his own before closing the door. It wasn't safe for ordinary Larnasians – those who weren't witchfolk – to be wandering the city's streets at night. There were too many of his kind, too many sorcerers and witches, who would love to use a defenceless target to alleviate boredom and provide a twisted form of entertainment for them and their friends.

Securing the door behind him, he returned to the table, and pushing his bowl aside, set the envelope in its place. Then, remaining standing, head tilted back and his eyes closed, he subjected it to the full force of his magical senses, scanning it to see if it contained any poisons or curses.

Finding none, he took a hesitant step forward towards the table. He picked up the envelope, took note of his name hastily scrawled on the front in familiar looping penmanship. Still suspicious, Galen turned it over and arched an eyebrow at the use of the yellow wax seal of Queen-Consort Lilianna of Larnasia. If Sardimon was trying to lull him into a false sense of security, he was doing a good job, covering his tracks as well as Galen himself would have done.

With a decisive flick of his wrist, Galen broke the wax seal and opened the flap, sliding the folded sheet of single white paper out from the envelope. He unfolded it and scanned the writing – identical to the penmanship on the front of the note.

'My dearest Galen,

Please join me tomorrow morning for a late breakfast in my visitor's suite.

Yours hopefully,

Lili.'

The familiar use of the nickname only he had dared to call her by as children gave his heart a little jolt. Very few people knew of the nickname, and even fewer would dare to use it in a faked note from the Queen-Consort herself.

Galen reread it four times before setting it down and retaking his seat at the table. After a moment, he picked the note up again and read it another three times before reaching for his bowl and spoon. So intent on the words and the hidden meaning behind them, Galen didn't notice the taste of his cold stew or the usual bitter aftertaste it left in his mouth.

He didn't sleep much that night, giving up just as the sun rose to peak out above the hills surrounding the city, too anxious for the new day to dawn.

*

The pale lemon dress she wore fluttered in the breeze. Lilianna cast a warming spell over herself and her children, protecting them from the cold as they stood outside in the courtyard saying their goodbyes to Sardimon. Her blond hair hung in loose curls around her face and shoulders and she kept her blue eyes averted as she kissed Sardimon on his hair-roughened cheek.

Be safe in Breenal, my Liege, she murmured dutifully.

I will, my Queen. Sardimon lifted a hand to her face, holding her chin to keep her face tilted upwards as he pressed his lips against hers. I will return before nightfall tomorrow. The hours will last an age until I see your face again.

Lilianna managed a weak smile and stepped back from him. She allowed Sardimon to take Tarik from her, watching a little resentfully as her son beamed happily as he and his father said their goodbyes, the latter dropping a tender kiss on Tarik's inherited mass of black hair before passing him back to his mother. Her husband did not attempt talking to Alivia, and she was glad for it, not knowing how she would react if he tried to address the daughter he wanted dead away from her.

She held her children close, balancing Tarik on a hip while keeping a hand on Alivia's shoulder. She watched impassively as her husband boarded the horse-drawn carriage awaiting him. She gave him a small in acknowledgement at his wave as the carriage started to roll towards the open gates, unable to do any more than that with her children clutched to her. She sighed sadly, sensing Tarik's sullenness and Alivia's confusion at not being included in the farewell, and turned on her heel towards the entrance of the castle.

I am expecting Count Lucas, she addressed the aide awaiting her orders in the shadows of the entrance, unable to work up the energy to smile as warmly as she usually would. When he arrives, please send him to my suite and have the kitchen supply us with some refreshments.

Of course, my Queen.

Lilianna moved swiftly, leaving the cold areas of the castle in preference for her wing, an area in which Sardimon had allowed her to decorate during a moment of fond weakness during the early stages of her pregnancy with Alivia. Bright, calming colours appeared instead of grey walls as she turned a corner and almost immediately the atmosphere lightened, the knots in her stomach easing.

She cast a shield around in one corner of the room, one that would block out sound so that the child she placed inside it could be heard but could not hear. Tarik was that child, and she settled her son amongst the plush cushions and blankets, summoning his favourites in an attempt at keeping him occupied.

She carried Alivia with her to the seating area and transformed one of the cushioned chairs into a more comfortable rocking chair, identical to the one that sat in her children's nursery. She had spent hours with Alivia in that chair, soothing her daughter's anxieties and fears, nursing her, promising her the world and a lifetime worthy of a royal Princess.

A lifetime time that was not to be.

Knowing that it was possibly the last time she would get to do so, Lilianna sat down in the chair and held her daughter close, humming a lullaby as she rocked them slowly back and forth. Alivia said nothing and snuggled closer to her mother instead. Lilianna could almost fool herself into believing that she sensed her daughter's understanding, that Alivia knew what was to happen and sought her mother's warmth and closeness in the precious few moments they had left together.

By the time she heard footsteps along the hallway accompanied by the slight rattling of cups and plates on a tray carried along by magic, Alivia was sleeping soundly, and Lilianna had given in to silent tears. Galen paused in the doorway, the tray crashing into his back. He turned, cursing under his breath, and caught it before it could fall to the ground, the spell enabling it to travel on its own disrupted by the unexpected contact. He hurried into the room, setting the tray down on the small table between the chairs and moved to kneel beside Lilianna's feet, his eyes bright with concern.

What is it, Lili? He asked urgently. Has Sardimon hurt you…?

Lilianna shook her head, moving a hand from Alivia's back to wipe away the tears rolling down her pale cheeks. No, Galen. Not me, she managed hoarsely. Alivia, she gasped. He wants to hurt Alivia.

Surprise she'd been expecting; a fleeting look of guilt she hadn't.

I am aware, Lilianna. Galen lowered his gaze to the little girl in his arms. He… implied as much as the night before last. There was a council meeting of sorts, and he announced he intended to have Tarik succeed him to the throne.

You knew? Her eyes chilled, and the colour rose in her cheeks. She became very still, gazing at him coolly when his eyes rose to meet hers. You knew, and you did not attempt to warn me?

I did not know how…

You did not know how? Lilianna cut in, her eyes flashing, her tone scathing. You have forgotten how to put pen to paper? Or perhaps you have forgotten how to walk up to the castle gates and request a viewing with your Queen?

Galen stood and shook his head. He paced the floor in front of her, wringing his hands. Instinctively, he threw up a mild protective shield to block out the worst of her temper. Lilianna's gift could backfire, he knew, when she was angry or upset. He had learned that the hard way many moons ago when they were children, and he had made the mistake of attempting to play a prank on the young witch. It had taken a whole week to feel warm again, for the frosty blanket wrapped around him to completely thaw.

Sardimon inferred that I should be the one to hurt Alivia. He and Amadian Crue decided that I would be the only one of the seven council members summoned to the court that you would trust enough to let get close to Alivia.

You would not do that. Sardimon could not expect you to carry out his plan willingly… Lilianna's eyes widened, and her cold expression softened into fear. Oh, no, Galen. Please tell me he did not cast a possession curse. I know you are stronger than he is but Sardimon would not have acted alone.

The curse was not cast. I managed to protect myself. He gave Lilianna an uncertain smile. I could not risk returning to the castle until I knew I would not be under constant attack. That is why I waited until the King's coach had ridden through the city before answering your summons.

Lilianna nodded slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. Then please, my friend, make yourself comfortable. I have a request to make, and I know it is not one you will like.

He did as told and helped himself to a sticky sponge cake and a cup of the herbal drinking potion the castle's kitchen provided, waiting for her to gather her thoughts together and state her request. By the end of his second cup of the soothing potion, she still hadn't spoken, so he set the empty cup down and leaned forward in his seat. Why is it you wanted to see me, my Queen? What request do you wish to make? I will follow whatever orders you must give.

She rewarded him with a watery smile and shook her head sadly. It is not an order, Galen; it is a request from one old friend to another.

Then request away. You know I could never deny you anything.

I know, Galen. Her smile was small and secretive. There was a time when she had known and loved his willingness to do anything for her, a time when she had loved him for it. A time before Sardimon Farican, the then Prince of Larnasia, had set about in his task to sweep her off her feet. She shook off the melancholy, the thoughts of what could have been if life was different and forced her mind back to the matter at hand. I need you to take Alivia somewhere safe. Disappear with her, create a new life and a new identity. She lifted cloudy eyes to his and valiantly held back tears. I need you to save my daughter. Take her and love her and raise her as your own. I would ask if there was another way. Please, Galen.

He opened his mouth to answer, whether to agree or turn her down he didn't know. He closed his mouth and let his eyes drop to the child in Lilianna's arms only to find Alivia staring back at him with knowing blue eyes and a wide, warm smile. She held his gaze, creating a connection, and he heard himself speaking before he even realised that his lips were moving. I will take her. I vow to keep her safe.

Thank you, Galen. The smile on Lilianna's face was relieved. I truly appreciate it; you have no idea how much it means to me. You are the only one I trust to protect her.

Galen nodded wordlessly, his gaze flickering back to the child. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Alivia's innocent expression. It wasn't possible for a child of her age to cast a possession curse on a fully-grown sorcerer. His mind felt fuzzy like he was viewing everything from a distance. He saw himself embrace Lilianna and take Alivia from her arms. He saw the crying Queen pull out a small jewellery box from a drawer in the small table and felt her slip it into his pocket.

It is for Alivia, Lilianna said. On her sixteenth annual, when she comes of age, I want you to have this made into a pendant for her. Give it to her from her mother. I know she will not remember me, but I hope… I hope to meet my daughter someday, and when I do, I will recognise her because she will be wearing this.

He followed Lilianna's lead in a daze, accepting the items she'd prepared for his journey, vanishing them with a spell so they could travel undetected with him and Alivia without him having to worry about carrying them. He said goodbye again to Lilianna, waited patiently for Lilianna to say a tearful goodbye to her daughter and left the castle through the back entrance through the kitchen, mindful of the teary staff that helped him leave without raising the alarm.

They knew, he realised, that their Princess wouldn't be back. They knew as well as he did that the hopes and dreams of the city now depended on him and his ability to keep the child cuddled up against him safe.

Chapter Two

Sardimon had made it to the city of Breenal before news reached him that Galen Lucas had abducted his daughter. His first reaction was to laugh, but he pushed it back and managed to resist the urge to do a jig in the courtyard of Lord Aron Dante's palace. He adopted a suitably distressed demeanour and made sure to make a public appearance looking worried, speaking loud enough to be overheard by members of the palace staff as he apologised to the young Lord Dante for his inability to stay and discuss official business as planned.

I cannot apologise enough, Lord Dante, but I must return to Larnasia at once. My wife, as you can imagine, is most distraught because of this betrayal. Sardimon apologised profusely, taking the hand Lord Aron Dante held out with practised grace.

It is understandable, King Sardimon. Lord Dante's voice was grave, and his expression was carefully devoid of the scepticism he felt. He had known Galen Lucas since childhood, the Larnasian Count having been a friend of his late father's, and he doubted vehemently that the Count could be responsible for the things suggested in whispered rumours. Please pass my sympathies to Queen Lilianna, he continued, playing his part as well as the King himself. He knew the peace of his city and his ability to keep it from changing into another Larnasia or Perdita hung on his ability to keep on King Sardimon's good side and therefore in control of the city of Breenal. And know that the people of Breenal are praying to the Goddess for the safe return of Princess Alivia.

Sardimon nodded in acknowledgement although he had no idea what the Lord had said, his efforts focused on keeping the smile off his face and the true giddiness he felt from being sensed by anyone within range. Thank you, thank you. I must leave now. I will rearrange this visit as soon as Alivia is returned to us safely.

He hurried away, allowing his guards to