Broken Prince, Mismatched Eyes: Chapter One

 

“Have you told him yet?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why the hell not!”

 

Jackson DeMott turned toward the cold, haughty voice of his wife, Mildred, and resisted the urge to shudder at the sight of her pale, pinched face. Dark, heavy eye makeup only served to make her appear sick and bruised, despite her insistence that it was the height of fashion. Her thin, mousy brown hair was pinned elaborately on the top of her head, hiding the places where her scalp had begun to show. Her arms were crossed over her almost non-existent bosom, and judging from the way she frowned, she was only moments away from throwing another of her infamous fits.

 

“Jackson, I asked you a question. Why haven’t you told him, and why aren’t you dressed properly? Those clothes are more suited for a funeral than a wedding?!”

 

“On the contrary, how could I possibly wear anything else on the day that I’m being forced to give my first born son away?”

 

“You’ve known this day was coming since the day he was born. Why you’ve insisted on keeping it from him and coddling the boy I will never understand, but it stops here and now. Caden is one and twenty, no longer a child, and Prince Rhys will be here any time now. I will not have that beastly little devil spawn of yours shaming this family.”

 

Jackson ran a tired hand over his face, feeling far older than his forty-seven years. “I’d hoped that one day you could see it in your heart to love him as if he were your own son, but I’ve come to realize over the years that you are nothing more than a vain, cruel, heartless woman. That boy has done nothing to you save from having the misfortune of not being of your blood. I loathe the day I ever allowed you to talk me into making this agreement, but more than that, I loathe you with every fiber of my being.”

 

Mildred sneered, appearing unmoved by his outburst. “Would you have preferred to lose this manor as well as your estates? Your father’s gambling, coupled with your ineptitude, left us on the cusp of ruin, and it was my swift thinking and my father’s brilliance that saved us. It is only right that Caden, as the eldest, be the first to marry.”

 

“Would you have been so quick to offer up Tristan or Glenn had one of them been the only option?”

 

“I would have offered them you had the circumstances dictated that as the only solution,” Mildred spat.

 

“Why you selfish, grasping....”

 

Mildred stomped her foot loudly on the marble floor, the echo of her shoe like a rifle shot. “Enough! Hate me if you will, but that changes nothing. Now go and get that little bastard of yours ready for his wedding day, and so help me, Jackson, if either of you messes this up, you’ll suffer in ways you cannot possibly imagine.”

 

“Someday I can only hope to see you suffer in ways that have not even been dreamed up yet,” Jackson growled with hatred in his eyes as he pushed past his wife. His steps were heavy with anger as he ascended the stairs to the second floor, fists clenched so tightly that half crescent indents were forming on his palms. Outside his eldest son’s chamber, he paused and took several deep breaths, desperately seeking some small measure of calm before delivering the life-altering news. If only there were a way to be certain Rhys would be kind and understanding of Caden’s odd, distracting behaviors, but sadly, few had ever truly given the young man a fair chance. If he could, Jackson would have spared his son the kind of bitter, miserable marriage he himself endured, but he held little hope that Rhys would be any different from those who had ridiculed Caden in the past.

 

Knocking on the door, Jackson mentally prepared his speech while waiting for Caden to answer. When he did not, Jackson pushed open the door and let his eyes drift around the dimly lit chamber until they came to rest on the figure curled upon the bearskin rug by the hearth, two large hounds on either side of him. Jackson couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the trio before a sudden thought abruptly wiped the smile from his face.

 

Would Rhys allow Caden to keep the animals, or would his son be forced to leave his two closest companions behind? Jackson crossed the chamber quietly, stopping near the hearth. When one of the hounds growled low and raised his head, the white splotch of fur around his left eye identified him as Titus. When Titus saw that it was Jackson he laid his head back on his paws and closed his eyes again while the other hound, Brutes, snored on.

 

With a sigh, Jackson knelt and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. Caden blinked sleepy, mismatched eyes up at his father, and as his son sat up, Jackson wondered what Rhys’ reaction to seeing Caden’s eyes would be and whether the prince was yet another superstitious fool who believed Caden’s one green eye and one white were a sign that he was devil-touched.

 

Fools, Jackson through to himself as Caden reached out and placed his hand on Brutes’ head, rubbing the dog’s ears. Caden’s head was cocked to one side, and he made a soft, clicking sound with his tongue that let Jackson know he was listening. While his son could speak, Caden used words sparingly and only after careful thought. It was one of the many things that made the boy so endearing in his father’s eyes. In another’s eyes, however, Jackson knew it was just another sign that Caden was different from others his age.

 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you. Were you up late wandering the moors again?”

 

Caden grinned and nodded, mismatched eyes lighting up and darting to the heavy curtains that were blocking out much of the sun and the moors that lay just beyond the window.

 

Jackson sighed heavily and rubbed his chin, still struggling to find just the right words. “Caden, there’s something very important that I need to say to you, and I am going to need you to listen to me very carefully and do exactly as I ask. All right?”

 

Jackson watched his son frown before giving a single, stiff nod.

 

“Your grandfather was a good man, a kind man, with a great deal of political influence, but for all his good points he loved gaming and at times put little thought into the wagers he made. Over time, all of his gambling caught up with him, and he was deeply in debt.

 

“As you know, my marriage to Mildred was arranged by her father as a token of goodwill in order to attain your grandfather’s votes, granting his family exclusive trading rights with the small country of Mauritania. Relations between our country and Mauritania had been strained for years, and without being able to import goods, the people of Mauritania were floundering. The deal made Mildred’s father quite wealthy, and with it came a great deal of power.

 

“Mildred’s dowry paid off a large chunk of the debt your grandfather had accumulated, but there was still a great deal owed. It was Mildred who first suggested that we advance our family’s ties with Mauritania by proposing a marriage between our firstborn child and the firstborn child of the king of Mauritania. After all, it was Mildred who stood to inherit her father’s trading routes and ships when he passed on, and a marriage between the families would further solidify the contract.

 

“What I didn’t know at the time was that Mildred had discovered I’d been dallying with your mother, who was governess to your Uncle Jamie. She’d figured out that the child Vanessa was carrying was mine and confronted me with it. I never once denied that it was true, Caden. I never denied you, but I wish that I had because Mildred told your grandfather about you, and he was so overjoyed to be a grandfather that he insisted you be given our family name and raised by Mildred and me.

 

“Mildred arranged for your mother to be richly compensated and set up with a home far from here, and then Mildred claimed you as her own, at least when the outside world could see her doing it.

 

“Caden, son, I am sorrier than words can ever express. I know that living with Mildred has never been a pleasant experience for you, and I suspect that it is why you have come to love the night time when you can wander about freely without the fear of running into her and her waspish tongue. I wish I had seen through her plan from the beginning, but I did not, and signed the contract with the Mauritanian king when it was placed in front of me.

 

“What I am trying to say is that you are promised to Prince Rhys of Mauritania, and he is on his way here to claim you. You are to be married in the chapel here, today. Preparations are already underway. After the ceremony you will set sail to Mauritania, where you will live from now on.”

 

For the first time since he began, Jackson hesitated.

 

“I... I’m sorry, Caden. Please understand that there is no way to break the contract. If you refuse, you will be taken to Mauritania by force, and this home and all that I own will be forfeited. Your brothers would be forced to apprentice rather than finish their educations, and all of those who depend upon this estate and manor for shelter and work would be forced to fend for themselves. I cannot allow that to happen. Caden you must marry the prince.”

 

Jackson had watched a medley of emotions play across Caden’s face as the story unfolded, but now the young man sat with his hand still upon the head of his hound, a blank, almost expressionless look in his eyes. Jackson lingered with bated breath, waiting on Caden’s response.

 

Caden blinked several times and resumed scratching Brutes’ ears. “Will I ever see you again?”

 

Jackson tried to give his son a smile but was certain it came out a grimace. “I will do my best to come to Mauritania and visit with you each year around the time of your birth.”

 

Caden dropped his gaze, but not before Jackson saw the shimmer of tears forming there. He should have known Caden would not be fooled by such a flimsy lie.

 

“And what about them?” Caden asked, stroking Titus’ head now as well. Jackson heard the hitch in his son’s voice and the shaky exhale of breath that revealed just how flimsy a hold he had on his emotions.

 

“I honestly can’t answer that,” Jackson told him. “You will have to ask Prince Rhys if he will allow you to keep them. I promise you that they will have a home here for the rest of their days if he will not.”

 

Caden ducked his head, hiding the tears that now flowed freely. With some difficulty, Jackson swallowed down the lump in his throat and reached out to pull his son into an embrace. For several long minutes, no other words were spoken.

 

“I have never disobeyed you father,” Caden’s soft voice whispered in his ear. “I will marry the prince and do my best not to shame you.”

 

“I am proud of you, my son,” Jackson whispered back, hugging him tighter, “and I have faith in you. I know you will do your best.”

 

“Is he kind? Is he going to be afraid of me? Perhaps he won’t want me because of my eyes.”

 

“He faces the same repercussions as you do if he refuses to honor the contract. As for whether he is a kind man or not, I cannot say, for I have never met him. All I know of Prince Rhys is that he is two years older than you.”

 

Caden pulled out of his father’s embrace and laid his head on Titus’ back as a loud horn sounded in the distance. There was no more time for words; the prince had arrived.

 

“Hurry, Caden, clean yourself up and put on your finest clothes. It will be to your advantage to present yourself in the best light that you possibly can.”

Caden nodded and gave both hounds one final ear rub before he stood. Jackson called out for a bath, and a servant to help Caden with his clothes before hurrying back downstairs to await the Prince’s arrival.

 

It wasn’t long before the doors to the great hall flew open wide and more horns preceded the Prince’s entrance. The first thing Jackson noticed was the deep, pronounced scowl on Rhys’ face. The Prince moved stiffly, eyes forward, shoulders squared and rigid. He was a handsome young man, despite the scowl, with high cheekbones and a chiseled, rugged jaw. His golden hair hung loose around his face, shimmering in the light of the oil lamps, and his bright gray eyes were striking.

 

Jackson was so focused on the man’s good looks that he didn’t notice his limp, but Mildred did, and loudly whispered about how fitting it was that they’d sent a broken Prince to wed a devil’s spawn. Jackson tensed at her words, as did the servants nearest them, all watching as the Prince’s steps faltered, a sure sign that he’d heard.