“As Henry, as Samson, as Captain Graves. Whatever it is you want to go by right now, do not mistake his foolish affections for love. I saw how you looked at him just now. You will not do a thing to impede this marriage.”

Samson knew that. He had known from the moment he first saw the stiffness fade from Elias that it was not love or even like that had caused it. If anything were to blame, it was the distance from home and the opportunity to breathe. If Samson had considered for a second that Elias might have enjoyed his company, smiling or laughing in quiet moments, then he had done his best to quell the thought the second it started. Elias had been in a difficult situation and sought moments of respite from the stress of it. That had nothing to do with Samson.

“I would do nothing to harm him or his future.”

The woman across from him let out an exasperated sigh as she followed his hands with her eyes. She had smiled and agreed when Elias had proposed ensuring that sign could be taught to commoners as basic education, but that grin had been through clenched teeth. “Have you still not learned to talk?”

“Forgive me. It is still difficult for me.”

Perhaps he could have managed if he forced himself, but sitting across from Her Majesty was strenuous enough as it was. Especially in this office. The last thing he wanted was to be here. Sure, he was older now. Stronger and bigger, too. But her presence still dwarfed him and in an instant it was as though he were still a child being reprimanded for things that were out of his hands. That didn’t bode well for finding words.

And perhaps there was some small, unkind piece of him that, even if he had the confidence in his ability to talk coherently enough to be taken seriously, wouldn’t mind being an inconvenience to Her Majesty.

“Very well. Let us be done with this. You are in violation of our contract at the moment just by being here.” She stared at her nails as though looking at Samson was truly too boring a task to bother with.

“You are as well.”

“Alright.” It didn’t sound like an admission. It sounded like a woman accepting an accusation because it was too annoying to argue it. “You want money to pay your crew. You want amnesty for this transgression. Is there anything else you need?”

There were things Samson wanted, some desperately. But things he needed were in short supply. If his crew was comfortable and he was still able to protect Elias from afar, he would be alright. Still, he nodded. “Allow me to spend the rest of the day in Kremal.” He paused. “And if he permits it, I want to see Elias.”

She pursed her lips. “The first, I will grant. The second–”

Samson raised his hands. “He will not know who I am until after the wedding. And possibly not then.”

“Do not sound desperate,” she warned, clapping her hands together. “Can you truly not wait the two weeks before his union? You’ve had a single taste of his presence and you simply must have more?”

Samson didn’t know how to answer that. Her Majesty had always had a way of making it difficult to respond to her probing. She wasn’t wrong. After waiting ten years, such a short time until the contract allowed him to be near him wasn’t so long. He paused. “The wedding is in two weeks?” That the proper engagement announcement would be soon was understandable, but that he would be wed so soon after was a surprise.

“I don’t want Yadan to change their mind, so we’ve set the date quickly.”

Yadan. Samson nodded. He had been there only a small handful of times and wasn’t the most familiar with their royal family, but… “Princess Klaire?”

She nodded. “Yes. They need someone who can provide an heir and will not get in the way. It is an amenable match.”

At that, Samson did his best to keep from frowning. She had never trusted Elias as much as she should have. “He would be capable as a ruler in his own right.” He wasn’t sure why he said it. This was asking for an argument, and arguing while already asking for favors was a stupid thing to do. Still, his hands had moved before he could think to stop them.

Her Majesty laughed. It was a cold, sharp laugh. “You ought to know that isn’t true. One too many sweet words and he’s swayed into such stupid choices that he lost us a colony.” She paused, folding her hands together neatly. He knew exactly what was coming. “I suppose that should be considered your fault. But regardless of your influence, he allowed himself to be led too keenly. He will stay out of the Princess’s way when she takes the throne.”

Samson’s hands stiffened before him. There was no arguing with her regarding that. The last time he had tried, he’d been banished.

“Now. You’re a good boy, Samson. I know that. Your heart is in a good place.”

He hated this part. The sweet, calming words before the storm.

“You may stay today. Leave by sunset. As for Elias, you may speak to him before you go, so long as everything else in our contract is obeyed. He will not know who you were. If you want future contact with him, he must be the one to ask you. You will not coerce him. He is too quick to follow you.”

Samson nodded. He could agree to that. “And my payment?”

“It will be sent to your ship as well as a renewed contract. Now, then. Go.”

Samson wouldn’t argue with that. If there was one thing he did not want, it was to be in this room any longer. He rose, turned, and did not attempt to say a word as he exited. As the door closed heavily behind him, it was as though he were remembering how to breathe.

The hallway was empty, and his memory of how to navigate the palace was hazy from time, but he could remember the general direction of Elias’s rooms.That would be a good enough start. If it took him a while to find it, that would be fine. It was best if he took a moment to clear his head.

He is too quick to follow you.

Samson wouldn’t say that. It wasn’t the case now, and it certainly hadn’t been the case when they were fourteen. It had been Samson following at his heel like a lost, needy puppy. If he influenced Elias, it was not out of begging or even asking for things. That didn’t work with him. What Elias had done for him, the voice he’d given him, had been of his own free will, unprompted.

That, Samson knew, was not the main issue Her Majesty took with him. Even if she found it unnecessary and frustrating to enforce educational policies, it was excused as an opportunity for Elias to learn to rule. If he could put a policy in place and follow through with it, then he had potential as a leader.

Even if he could be a promising heir, he had still been a child. When she told him to lead a battalion of soldiers in a battle in Xiang to quell the colony’s uprising, he was only fourteen. He had never fought. When a tired, frightened child, his best friend, had confessed he was afraid, Samson had told him not to go. And Elias, never one to take Samson’s suggestions too seriously, had listened.

Two days later, Samson was gone and a colony had its independence.

That had been the start of that chant. A fourteen year old child didn’t show up to a battlefield and the war was lost. Xiang had, for so long, been a profitable port, vibrant and full of life. Merchants on every street corner, with canals that led directly to Kremal. It was a boon to the kingdom, and Kremal had squeezed every last penny from it and its people. To lose it had been devastating.

A piece of Samson was grateful he hadn’t been able to see the fallout. A much larger piece still clung to the guilt like a dog guarding a bone. If he hadn’t said anything, perhaps Elias would have gone. Perhaps they would have won. Perhaps with a little kid at the helm with no practical training of any kind and no way to truly lead, Kremal would have been victorious.

That had never felt very likely.

If Her Majesty was so lacking in generals that her best choice was a child, it was not a fight that would have been won. It was doomed from the start, but forcing Elias into the situation would have at least given the people someone to blame. If they lost and he was at the center of it, it could be his fault. If he had died, Her Majesty could be a sympathetic mother desperately mourning the loss of her son. And so soon after his father had passed fighting the same war– what a shame. What a poor, unfortunate woman. Who could ever blame her for the collapse of the kingdom?

That he never showed up to the fight at all only changed the narrative so much. It was still his fault. And, this way, the blame could be shared with Samson and he could finally be sent somewhere away from Elias. He should never have been so close to the prince, Her Majesty had said the morning she told him to leave.

She had not been completely cold toward him back then. He was, after all, the favored company of her son. If ever Elias found out that Her Majesty had simply had him killed or let him die, his loyalty to her may have been shaken. So he’d been given a ship, and he’d been sent to sea with Natalia at his side. After all, it wouldn’t do to have him alone with no skills in sailing– send him with the daughter of a merchant who’d been accused of causing one too many problems in town who could take care of him. That way, if Elias ever uncovered the truth, he wouldn’t hate his dear, caring mother.

It struck Samson as he wandered. There was so little he knew about Elias’s life since he’d left. He knew of his kingdom’s fall, but what about his prince’s? What had he been told? That Samson had just left, completely unrelated to the events that had occurred prior? That he’d chosen some other life? 

Samson didn’t pay much attention to where he was walking. In the dark gray palace halls, everything took on an air of sameness. It wasn’t until he came across a viscerally familiar doorway that he fully registered where he was. Right where he belonged.

Tentatively, with shaky hands and a shakier heart, he knocked at Elias’s door.