Free Destiny by Fiona McIntosh

joined once more. I have loved you deeply—I hope you know this.’
    The Queen bent and kissed the cold, already hardened lips of her King.
    ‘May the Light speed and guide you safely,’ she said, shrouding his lovely face with purple, the colour of death.
    Gyl could remember a similar awful silence around the palace at the time of Queen Nyria’s passing. He had been able to escape it all those years ago, following Herek and some of the Shield into the foothills, but not on this occasion. He had responsibilities this time and he would not let his mother down. She was depending on him tobear the burden of almost all the official duties surrounding the King’s funeral; thank the Light he had Rolynd to assist him. The man’s calm, measured style was a boon when most of the other minds in the palace seemed messy and confused, including his own.
    He had loved the King deeply. Somehow Gyl had always wanted to find a way to tell him, explain to him that it was not just the blind love of loyalty. No, he truly loved Lorys for the man he was. Often he had caught the King watching him; sometimes the Sovereign would attend training sessions in the courtyard and applaud him loudly as he regularly beat all the other soldiers. It was—he knew from what his mother had told him —the King’s idea to create the new position of Under Prime. Alyssa had explained it was the King’s intention for Herek to groom Gyl for the top job.
    At this Gyl’s chest and sense of pride had swollen immeasurably —he would not let his King down. And following his mother’s marriage to the Sovereign he had felt incredibly close to Lorys, loving every opportunity to accompany him on the morning ride across the moors which had been his preference. There had been many occasions when they rode alone; Gyl acting as sole protector. These were his favourite times because he had had the King to himself and they would talk—almost as father and son. Lorys would encourage him to speak of his early childhood and his true mother, Marrien, promising whatever they discussed would be kept between themselves. At other times they had talked about kingship: how to run a realm effectively and to earn the respect and loyalty of a nation’s people. Gyl enjoyed the tales of old King Mort and the King’s father,Orkyd, and how they had finally won Tallinor through bloody battle.
    These rides together had become habit, with Alyssa encouraging Gyl to spend as much time with the King as possible. It had not been hard to do; he had genuinely loved the King’s company and their many private moments of shared laughter. He would miss that companionship greatly. All the other subjects had lost a King but Gyl felt the keen loss of a friend —someone he looked up to as one would a father…the father he had never had. He had often thought about what it would be like to have a real father and secretly he had decided it would feel very similar to the relationship he enjoyed with Lorys. He would never air such a thought openly, of course…not even to the Queen.
    Who would he ride with now? Gyl knew he was popular with the soldiers under his command and that he had their loyalty; he also knew he was just as popular with the ladies of the court and he had already manoeuvred his way around a couched marriage proposal from one of the wealthy nobles who could appreciate the benefit of marrying off his daughter to the Under Prime. But Gyl also knew he had no real friend other than the King. He was close to Saxon, but the Kloek had curious ways and there was a remoteness about him which it seemed only his mother could touch. He loved Saxon but in all truth, he had been far closer to Lorys. There was no young woman to call friend either; no one he had ever felt excited enough about, or even close enough to, to consider calling it a loving relationship. If he looked at his life objectively, Gyl had to admit he was something of a loner. Which is why hefelt so removed from everyone now; he had