Chapter 9 - "Find the Princess!"

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Wilder

Wilder rushed out of the cabin but paused when he didn't see Lydia racing up to the deck. Down the corridor, he caught a flash of dark hair and chased it.

Queen. The title rattled around Wilder's head. Lydia was queen. The regal image clashed violently with the image of Lydia in trousers and shirt, running through the palace with him. It contrasted the girl he knew who planned to travel the world, not be tethered to a throne.

Through an open doorway, he spotted her. The dim storeroom smelled of wood, salt, lamp oil, and coffee. A pleasant aroma. But as Wilder's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could tell the scent didn't have a calming effect on Lydia. She stood in a corner of the room, hands pressed against the wall like she was trying to keep them from shrinking in on her.

"I can't," she said, her voice strained. "I can't be queen. I'm not meant to be queen."

Wilder approached her slowly as if scared to frighten her.

"Ly," he said.

She spun on him, her eyes wide with panic. "No! I can't do it. We could find Uncle Kristoff, he could be king because I'm not supposed to be queen. Corwin is supposed to rule. He was born for it. No one is more perfect for the position. It can't be me. It needs to be him. He needs to be alive!"

Wilder reached out a hand to her, understanding her fear. "Ly, it's going to be okay."

"No! It's not how could it be okay! I'm alone! They left me! They are all-"

As Lydia shook her head, she pressed her palms into their eyes. She swore. "I never should have stolen the almond cakes. He looked so disappointed in me. He always told me to live up to my title." She sucked in a breath. "And I never did. I never listened and now..."

At the despair in her voice, Wilder felt his heart ache. Not only did death weigh on her but a kingdom now sat on her shoulders. Wilder took hold of Lydia's arms, squeezing them until she slowly lifted her head.

"Ly," he said, gently.

"Wilder, we never should have snuck into the kitchens, maybe if we hadn't then it would be different." Tears welled in her eyes. "I need it to be different. I can't do this..."

Wilder brushed his hand over her face and she sucked in a breath.

"Listen," he said. "You can not dwell on this right now, do you understand? The Commander always says you can not think of the outcome of the war when there is a battle before you." He cupped her face. "Right now, we need to get you out of the West Isles. Once that is complete then we will think of what comes next, okay?"

A tear spilled out and Wilder swiped it away. "I wasn't born to rule, he was."

"I know. But this battle, this moment."

The fight drained out of her and she sagged against him. Wilder held her, wishing he could make her pain go away. Wishing he could carry it for her. When she let out a slow breath, Wilder did as well unaware of how tense he felt. He pulled back from her.

"Come on, we need to see if the prince convinced Alwyn to transport us to Loria. If not..." Wilder swallowed, the burden of what to do next dropping onto him. "We'll find a way."

As he led Lydia back to the captain's cabin he worked through another plan. If they acquired a pair of horses they could possibly make it out of the city and through Whistler's Forest. There was a port towards the east. They could possibly barter for a passage on one of those ships. Depending on if the news hadn't already reached them. If it had their options were...

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