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Runaway
Hearts
(Sons of Lyra 2)
By
Felicity Heaton
2
First printed June 2008
First Edition
Layout and design by Felicity Heaton
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any
resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
3
Heir Prince Lyra I only had one thing to recommend him to
women, and it was one thing he wished he didn't have—Royal
blood. Never in his life had a woman seen him for who he was. The
second they realised he was a son of Lyra and heir to the throne, they
changed. Their petty flattery had the opposite effect to what they
wanted. It made him leave.
He wished he were like his younger brothers, free of the title of
Heir Prince of Lyra. What he wouldn't give to be them, to be
enjoying their lives and carving out a reputation for themselves that
didn't tie them to the throne. His next two brothers were both
captains of the Lyran Imperial Army. His youngest was in training to
follow them. He'd wanted to be a captain once, had desired to see the
stars and experience the universe's many galaxies.
Leaning against the balcony of his room in the palace, he stared
up at the pitch black sky and the millions of glittering stars, longing
to be out there with his brothers.
The piece of paper in his hand rustled in the light breeze,
reminding him of its presence. Simply put, it was an order. It came
from the highest power in the land. It came from his parents.
They had decided it was time for him to marry.
With Balt, the second eldest of he and his brothers, married and
settled on Lyra Five with his wife, Kayla, his parents were anxious
for another marriage. More particularly, his mother was. He'd got the
impression countless times over that his father didn't really care if he
or his brothers ever married.
He had to admit that seeing his brother get married had made
him consider marriage himself, but he didn't want it to be this way.
He stared at the piece of paper. There was no name on it. She
had been written about as though she was a piece of property
without any thoughts or feelings of her own. His brother Balt would
be furious if he saw this letter. He hated anything that made people
out to be a slave or would offend his once-slave wife.
4
His eyes scanned the page to the proposed date of the wedding.
It was only a week away. It turned his stomach so much that he
screwed the note up and threw it over his shoulder into his room.
He couldn't marry without knowing the woman first or even
knowing her name. It was impossible. He couldn't marry without
having seen the universe first. He'd never even been into deep space.
A thought crossed his mind, brilliant and glittering like a jewel
at first, but quickly becoming tarnished when his better sense said
that his parents would never allow him to go into deep space, not
even with his brothers.
He sighed and stared longingly at the stars.
Perhaps there was another way.
The bell rang for dinner and he trudged wearily across his room
and out of the door, his thoughts still with the beautiful night sky and
his heart still fixed on seeing deep space before he was married.
Perhaps the other way was the only way.
He sat down at one end of the long dark wood dining table
while his parents sat at the other. Even during his meals he was
lonely, left sitting what felt like miles from his parents because that
was what propriety dictated. He leaned his right elbow against the
table top, propped his chin up on his palm and played distractedly
with his food.
"Sebastian!” His mother's voice rang across the room.
His gaze slid to her. She was frowning so hard he couldn't see
her eyes. She motioned towards his elbow. He rolled his eyes and sat
straight, removing his arm from the table.
At thirty four, he had thought he would have more freedom. His
life seemed to be getting more and more controlled the older he got.
He was tired of being treated like a child and not like the man he
was. His parents never saw the real him. They didn't know him.
They only knew the boy they believed him to be—the one they
wanted him to be. He sighed again and decided that he would go
through with his plan.
5
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Runaway
Hearts
(Sons of Lyra 2)
By
Felicity Heaton
2
First printed June 2008
First Edition
Layout and design by Felicity Heaton
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any
resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
3
Heir Prince Lyra I only had one thing to recommend him to
women, and it was one thing he wished he didn't have—Royal
blood. Never in his life had a woman seen him for who he was. The
second they realised he was a son of Lyra and heir to the throne, they
changed. Their petty flattery had the opposite effect to what they
wanted. It made him leave.
He wished he were like his younger brothers, free of the title of
Heir Prince of Lyra. What he wouldn't give to be them, to be
enjoying their lives and carving out a reputation for themselves that
didn't tie them to the throne. His next two brothers were both
captains of the Lyran Imperial Army. His youngest was in training to
follow them. He'd wanted to be a captain once, had desired to see the
stars and experience the universe's many galaxies.
Leaning against the balcony of his room in the palace, he stared
up at the pitch black sky and the millions of glittering stars, longing
to be out there with his brothers.
The piece of paper in his hand rustled in the light breeze,
reminding him of its presence. Simply put, it was an order. It came
from the highest power in the land. It came from his parents.
They had decided it was time for him to marry.
With Balt, the second eldest of he and his brothers, married and
settled on Lyra Five with his wife, Kayla, his parents were anxious
for another marriage. More particularly, his mother was. He'd got the
impression countless times over that his father didn't really care if he
or his brothers ever married.
He had to admit that seeing his brother get married had made
him consider marriage himself, but he didn't want it to be this way.
He stared at the piece of paper. There was no name on it. She
had been written about as though she was a piece of property
without any thoughts or feelings of her own. His brother Balt would
be furious if he saw this letter. He hated anything that made people
out to be a slave or would offend his once-slave wife.
4
His eyes scanned the page to the proposed date of the wedding.
It was only a week away. It turned his stomach so much that he
screwed the note up and threw it over his shoulder into his room.
He couldn't marry without knowing the woman first or even
knowing her name. It was impossible. He couldn't marry without
having seen the universe first. He'd never even been into deep space.
A thought crossed his mind, brilliant and glittering like a jewel
at first, but quickly becoming tarnished when his better sense said
that his parents would never allow him to go into deep space, not
even with his brothers.
He sighed and stared longingly at the stars.
Perhaps there was another way.
The bell rang for dinner and he trudged wearily across his room
and out of the door, his thoughts still with the beautiful night sky and
his heart still fixed on seeing deep space before he was married.
Perhaps the other way was the only way.
He sat down at one end of the long dark wood dining table
while his parents sat at the other. Even during his meals he was
lonely, left sitting what felt like miles from his parents because that
was what propriety dictated. He leaned his right elbow against the
table top, propped his chin up on his palm and played distractedly
with his food.
"Sebastian!” His mother's voice rang across the room.
His gaze slid to her. She was frowning so hard he couldn't see
her eyes. She motioned towards his elbow. He rolled his eyes and sat
straight, removing his arm from the table.
At thirty four, he had thought he would have more freedom. His
life seemed to be getting more and more controlled the older he got.
He was tired of being treated like a child and not like the man he
was. His parents never saw the real him. They didn't know him.
They only knew the boy they believed him to be—the one they
wanted him to be. He sighed again and decided that he would go
through with his plan.
5
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