Blood Ties

Chapter 10: Declan

Declan ran a comb through his hair, changing out of his dishevelled travelling clothes into a neater suit of garments that he typically wore when dining with his father. Swapping his stained tunic for a starched one, he heard a knock on the door. As he tugged the shirt over his head, Declan slipped his dagger into one of the loops of his belt and turned to open it.

"Cousin," said Nolan, his eyes cast downward. "I-uh... I had some things I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yes?" He continued his grooming and ablutions as he waited for his cousin to speak.

Nolan sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped red hair. He took a seat without asking for permission, which was unlike him. "Remember Olivia?"

Declan paused. How could he forget Olivia? He could still see her red hair blowing in the wind, still hear her delicate laugh, still remember the way she had looked at him, tears in her brown eyes when she had rejected his marriage proposal. I can't be a princess, she had said. I wasn't made for this life, Declan. I want a simpler one.

"I've just received word from her brother," Nolan said, waving a letter in one hand, its flap sealed with blue wax, the colour of the Delroses. "Olivia is dead."
He sat down on the bed, dropping the comb and the pomade, watching the small glass jar shatter against the floor without a drop of regret. Declan could barely register anything, could not even look his cousin in the eye. Words swam in his head, but none of them were right. None of them would fix this. None of them were what he wanted to say. All of them were from the past, swarming up and clouding his eyes like tears.

I love you, Declan. I'll always love you. But we cannot marry. Don't you see? I've seen what happens to princesses. I love you, but I love my freedom more. And if you truly cared for me as you claim you do, you would not force this proposal on me.

Please, Olivia, do not say these things. You don't mean them. I'll give you whatever you want... I'll do whatever you ask...

No, you can't. You cannot give me what I truly need, Declan. You will always be the prince of Astroia, and for that reason, I cannot be your wife. Do you truly not understand? A gilded cage is still made of bars and it still locks like any other cell. The crown you want to place on my head is nothing more than yet another shackle. I want to be free.

We can run away! We can travel the world together... You know I would do anything for you, Olivia. Stop crying. Please, say you'll come with me.

What's the point, Declan? You can only run so far. The world is only so large. It will never contain room enough for your father not to drag you back home. And he wouldn't even be dragging you, not really. You love the crown. You love power. You were born to it, you were made for it, and you wouldn't last a day without it. You may say you love me, but I know I am nothing more than one more pretty face in a long line of them.

The thought of how he had pleaded for her to stay was like a blow to his gut. How he had demeaned himself, debased himself, even, for a woman who had wanted him, but not enough. Would he truly never speak to her again? Declan would have given anything, in that moment, to be with her again, even if it were in the arms of another man. He would have begged for another chance to ask for her hand, even if it only led to rejection. He had stayed away so long not only for this quest, this fool's errand, but also because he had not wanted to be invited to her wedding. He had not wanted to see this--and now he would never again see her.

"Declan?" His cousin shook his shoulder, leading Declan to recoil from his touch. "Declan, are you alright?"

He opened his eyes. The world was spinning. The ship was moving. Waves were steadily pushing them back toward Astroia. Finally, he croaked, "How did she die?"