M E R E D I T H is a princess without a country. Her family, formerly the royal family of Borgavia, has been exiled from their home, forced to live under the rule of the Empire of Astoria.
A N T O N Y is a prince who doesn't want a crown. Soon to be...
Antony made his way slowly to the west wing, where his cousin and her companion's rooms were. He hesitated before the door to their shared parlor, before finally knocking shortly.
He heard footsteps on the other side of the door and it was soon opened by Isabella.
'Antony?" she questioned, her smile fading upon seeing him. "What's...what's wrong?"
"Is Meredith here?"
"Of course...Do you need to speak to her?"
He simply nodded. As she opened the door wider for him to enter, he turned to her. "Isabella," he said, softly. "You should go to Kade. I think you might...help him."
She gave him a worried look and immediately left the room, looking back at him only once. He stood by the door, now closed, for a while, grappling with what was compelling him to tell Meredith this news himself. He sighed.
I care for her...I don't trust anyone else to...give it to her gently.
He forced himself to stand a bit straighter as he made his way to the door that led to Meredith's private sitting room. He raised his fist to knock, but hesitated.
At that moment, the door opened. Meredith stood there, looking at him, puzzled, as she took in his hand, poised to knock.
"Antony?" she said, her expression confused. "What are you doing here? Are you looking for Isabella?"
There was no turning back now.
"Actually..." he said, slowly. "I was looking for you. Meredith...I...have something to tell you."
She took in his worried expression and stood, as if she were stoically waiting for whatever he was going to tell her. He wished that she never had to hear it, for he knew it would hurt her more than anything. He remembered the fondness with which she had spoken of Nash during their lunch of yesterday. He almost wanted to say 'never mind' and turn right around, leaving the room, but he forced himself to look her in the eyes.
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Meredith stood, her entire body tense, as she waited for whatever it was that Antony had come to tell her. Whatever it was, he was clearly upset by it. She took note of his messy hair and his clothes that looked too hastily thrown on. She met his blue eyes, eyes that were full of sadness, and she knew that whatever news he brought, it would not be good.
"Antony?" she said, fear beginning to invade her voice. "What's...wrong?"
"Meredith...Dunkirk was attacked late last night."
She sucked in a breath, feeling a bit dizzied by this news. "My family...?" Her voice trailed off, her eyes searching Antony's, questioning.
"I'm sorry, Meredith," he said, his voice quiet. "Your brother, Nash...he was one of two captives taken by the attackers. We don't know where he is, or what their purpose in taking him was, but..." His expression hardened. "I promise you, we...I...will do everything in my power to make sure that he is found. I'm...sorry."
Meredith felt as though she might start screaming, or crying...or both...but she held it all inside and turned, walking to the window, facing out over the grounds, trying to conceal her emotions and struggling to remain in control. She was so angry. At the attackers, for taking Nash. At herself, for not being there to do something, as much as she knew that she couldn't have done anything. She looked up into her own eyes in the reflection of herself in the window. She was pale, and she looked wide-eyed and scared.
She saw, in the reflection, Antony come hesitantly to stand next to her. She wanted only to run far away, away from all of this. She wanted her family to be safe. If Nash had been taken...who next? She turned away and made to go and pack a few things so she could go to her family...perhaps they could help each other through this time of grief. And Evan! Who would tell him?
"I need to go..." she said, her voice breaking. "I have to go to them...be with them."
She stopped when Antony took gentle hold of her wrist.
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Antony watched as Meredith turned back to look at him. He slid his hand from her wrist to her own hand, taking it in his. He felt her pain as he held her hand, small and cold, within his own grasp.
"Meredith," he said. "I want to, if you agree, bring your family here, to the palace, to stay with you. There is nowhere in Astoria where they will be safer. You will be free from any duties...I'm sure Isabella will agree...and you may spend as much time with them as you want to."
He watched as she bit her lip and nodded, attempting to keep her tears in check. She looked down at their joined hands, and he saw the first few tears fall. She closed her eyes and bridged the gap between them with a few steps.
She was in his arms; he was holding her, feeling her sob against his shirt and wishing that he could do something, anything to ease her pain...her sorrow....her worry. He held her close, bringing one hand up to her hair and resting the other on her back. She felt so small...so fragile.
