The King's War

31. Prisoner

NATHANIEL

Days passed since Balthazar staged his coup, if I could even call it that. No force was needed. The other dukes had signed the kingdom away willingly, and I'd unwittingly given Balthazar exactly what he needed to end my reign.

Abel must be thrilled. He was probably up there in his marble tower, dancing in delight. If only the fool knew whom he'd handed my kingdom to. The thought of his smug smile fading when he discovered Balthazar's secret rebel ties was a small comfort, though one that faded quickly with the knowledge that my kingdom would soon be under rebel control.

No one had come for me since I was escorted into the holding cells, which meant Balthazar had either spun a convincing lie to deflect my accusations, or removed all opposition entirely. The man I knew would never stoop to such depths, but as it turned out, I didn't know Balthazar at all.

The more I thought about it, the more his role as the mastermind behind the rebel plot made sense. How else would they have been able to elude me for so long without assistance from someone in his position? They could do as they pleased because they had the Duke of New York and my maker on their side, eager to draw way my suspicion or silence it entirely.

I thought back to that fateful night when the first Duke of Virginia, Daniel Morgan, had been killed. He'd been trying all night to warn me of something, but that warning had died with him. I'd wondered for years what he meant to tell me, and now I knew with certainty.

Daniel had to have known something about Balthazar, and he'd been silenced for it.

Or had that bullet been meant for me after all? Was that what Balthazar planned for me all along? The rebels had certainly tried enough times, but was that done with Balthazar's approval? He'd had more opportunities to kill me than anyone else, but he'd always stayed his hand. I feared what he planned for me was far worse than death.

I'd heard the telltale thud of the heavy door unlocking and looked up to see who'd entered. Sure enough, it was Balthazar, flanked by a series of armed guards. So, the day had finally come.

Balthazar walked toward my cell and stopped. "Good evening, Nathaniel."

His flippant tone caused a spark of rage to flare up within me. I didn't look up to acknowledge him and sat silently on the hard metal bench inside my cell.

The iron bars suddenly slid open as someone triggered the remote locking mechanism. Guards spilled into the room and before I could protest, I was being dragged to my feet. A chain was clamped around my wrists and ankles and I gritted my teeth at the indignity of the display.

"Why have you come?" I finally allowed myself to ask. "Have you erected a guillotine on the palace grounds? Is it finally time for my execution?"

"You owe me far more credit than that," Balthazar replied coolly.

He said nothing more as I was led out of the holding cells. There was no guillotine, not that I really expected one. Instead, and armored truck greeted me, surrounded by armed guards and a series of security vehicles. I cursed as I was shoved into the back of the truck and extra chains were wrapped around me, trying me to the cold metal seat. Balthazar sat across from me, two armed guards at his side.

"So my execution is to be more public then?" I spat once they were done restraining me. "Is Abel waiting in the crowd, ready to see me made an example of?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Balthazar admonished. "I'm only taking you to New Orleans."

My eyes widened in surprise and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped from my lips. "Your witch friend could've saved you a trip if you'd only told her what you planned for me."