Exile (Book #2 Royale Series)

Chapter 4: We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off

Taylor

Three Months Later

I examine the pensive faces of the Council members, advisors, and noblemen. Though I hated to admit it even to myself, and would never do so to him, Aspen had proven himself to be an effective leader of our merged countries. Perhaps too effective. He immersed himself in his kingly duties. He lived and breathed war strategies, budgets, and foreign policies, leaving room for little else. He was obsessed. Which made him infinitely more insufferable to be around than he previously was. In his defense, however, the issues at hand were of the utmost importance. The war loomed dangerously close to our country's borders, a country still fresh from our merging—which had proved to be anything but smooth. Not only for the less than willing participants that Aspen and I made, but also for the missing Albionian Council members, who still dealt with the wreckage in Albion's capital. Nathan Rousseau still served as interim head Council member, but the longer it took for Lance Donahue to make it here to the Isolian Court, the more comfortable Nathan would become in his position. And suffice it to say, he would not be the one that I would be rooting for in the upcoming election.

"It's been three months. Three interminable months since we bombed the Isolian rebel base and there has been no retaliation. No movement from the other side whatsoever. They're biding their time, they're planning something. Something sinister. We need to act immediately. The longer we wait to draw them out, the more well-equipped to defeat us they become." Aspen says, shoving documents and reports around the table as he barks at the men.

"With all due respect, your Majesty, maybe we shouldn't be so quick to squander our resources. Maybe the bombing of their base did exactly what it was supposed to. It drove the rebels out. We should focus our efforts towards other pursuits and consider the war with the rebels victorious," an advisor, whose name I never bothered to learn, says.

"No, the Isolians are smart. They want us to think we won. They want us to become complacent. His Majesty is correct. They're just biding their time." Austin Maddox counters the advisor.

"What makes you think you're such an expert on pertinent matters of war strategy? Three months ago, you yourself were nothing but rebel scum. A fancy uniform and some made up title doesn't change that." The advisor spits.

"My being rebel scum is exactly why I am more equipped to speak on this matter than you are. I ran an entire rebellion for almost a decade. Not only that, but I've watched the Isolian rebels make this exact play before. They stick to the shadows to give their opponents a false sense of security and we'd be fools to fall for it. Aspen's right. We can spare some resources to draw them out. We'll be better off for it in the long run."

"Then it's settled—" Aspen begins, but he is quickly cut off by Nathan.

"Perhaps we should take it to a vote, yes?" Nathan suggests.

Aspen narrows his eyes at him but seems to consider it. "No vote. This is my ruling," he finally says. He gestures to the map sprawled across the marble table. "General Keynes, I want troops stationed in every city. I've already spoken with the prime minister. He has officials on constant rotation. They're to report directly to the troops at any sign of suspicious activity, whom will then report to you. I want a new report on my desk from you every morning, understood?" Aspen orders the general.

General Keynes wastes no time answering. "Of course, your Majesty."

"Captain Harper," Aspen turns to Lucian. "I want increased security detail surrounding the palace. No one gets in or out until I myself have approved it directly. That goes for everyone." I don't miss the way Aspen's eyes revert to me. The look practically screams a warning at me. A warning, of course, that will be promptly ignored.