“He’s an idiot,” Ralf growled. “He doesn’t even want to send anyone along to protect you.”
A smile twitched the corner of Diane’s mouth. At least they could agree on the soundness of some of Edmund’s ideas.
“Dorian and August look like they can handle themselves.”
Ralf scoffed, taking a step closer. “Oh, and I’m just supposed to trust two faeries to look after you.”
“I’m not necessarily happy about it either.” Not about the faeries. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to trek across several countries without the comforting presence of Ralf at her side.
“It’s my job to look after you.” He pounded a fist against his chest. “I just don’t know what I’d do if anything—if…” He cut himself off, running a hand across his face.
A warmth sparked in Diane’s chest. The memory of him leaning against her to protect her from the initial ice blast flashed. She hadn’t been really focused on it at the time, but it suddenly seemed worth revisiting.
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He froze, before gently resting his arms around her, pressing a tentative hand against the back of her head. She closed her eyes. She’d never hugged him before. Never even really thought about it. But standing in the comfort of his arms, head resting against his chest, she wondered why she’d taken so long to do it.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her words muffled a little by his tunic.
His scoff rumbled against her ear. She smiled. “I’ll miss you.”
His arms tightened briefly around her. “I’ll miss you too.” She tried to tell herself she imagined the hint of longing in his voice that lingered in her own heart.
She pulled back first, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, a tingle running down her arms to her fingertips from where his hands now rested on her shoulders. The lines around his eyes had softened.
“I’m going to worry about you every day.”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
A chuckle broke from him, a rare sound that she’d always treasured.
“And I’ll be fine, really. After I go smack sense into Edmund for volunteering me.”
“Need some help?” He grinned.
“I believe it’s your solemn duty to assist me.”
His hands brushed down her arms to rest around hers for a moment. “After you, then.”
The tingle stayed in her fingers long after he released her and she led the way back to the manor house.
She stormed into the sitting room where Edmund waited, looking infuriatingly calm. He flicked a dismissive hand at Ralf which only served to irritate her more. Ralf left with a bow.
Diane watched him go, then turned to Edmund, hands on hips.
“You think you can just tell everyone I’m going without asking me first?”
He crossed his arms, jaw set stubbornly. “Yes. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Heartwarming,” she snapped.
“Diane, you know what we need. I trust you to see to Myrnius’s good. And” —he shifted reluctantly— “everyone else’s.”
“What if I don’t want to go?” She stood her ground.
Edmund narrowed his eyes.
Sudden boldness filled her. “What if I don’t want to go alone with faeries?”
A frown sharpened his features. “No.”
Diane crossed her arms, mimicking his stance. “No, what?”
“I’ve seen the way you two have been looking at each other. It’s not good for either of you.”
“And you get to decide everything for me, is that it?” Her voice began to rise.
“Diane,” he said sharply. “Yes, I want you safe. Yes, I want you cared for. But this has to be done. And you will need to learn to do everything without him.” He softened a fraction with each word.
Her heart squeezed. She’d just started to realize that she didn’t want to. Wanted to keep Ralf’s comforting presence by her side always.
She scuffed her shoe against the tile. Does he know best? Her heart said no. But her mind tried to reluctantly agree.
“I still don’t want to go.” She dragged her gaze back up to meet his.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I don’t want you to go, either.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll run the country into the ground without you.”
New irritation flared. “You don’t really need me.”
Edmund tilted his head. “I’ve always needed you. Even when we were little.”
She rubbed her suddenly smarting nose.
“Please. Do this for me?”
She sighed, defeated. It wasn’t ever fair when he asked like that. His smile crept through a little sad, like he knew he’d won.
“Fine. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”
He shook his head again. “I would never.”
Diane rolled her eyes and moved closer, reluctantly accepting his brief hug. She tried not to think about the guard waiting outside. What she wanted had never really mattered. The country and Edmund came first. Even if that meant leaving Ralf, and everything familiar, behind.
Chapter Eleven
“Is that all you brought?”
Diane critically eyed Tonya’s belongings strewn across her bed. Grey trousers and a thigh-length tunic made from a woven fabric. They didn’t look very thick. Tonya wasn’t even wearing her coat. How can she not be cold?
The faery tucked her arms across her stomach. “Is that bad? I didn’t know what I’d need on land.”
Diane smothered a yawn and turned back to her wardrobe. Midnight wasn’t far away, but she’d taken it upon herself to make sure Tonya was ready for the journey.
Not that she had any real idea what would be needed on a cross-country trek to the furthest reaches of the north.
“You will get cold.”
Tonya paused, flicking a glance at her coat. “I won’t, really. The cold doesn’t seem to bother me like the others.”
“That seems like useful magic.” Diane flashed a smile.
Tonya lifted a dark eyebrow in mild surprise.
“But you might need some better shoes.” Diane reached into the wardrobe and pulled out her spare pair of walking boots. “I’m a little taller than you, so they might be big.”
The faery slid them on and stood, a frown touching her lips. “I don’t really like these.”
“Those boots, or just shoes in general?”
“Shoes in general, I suppose. We don’t need them in the ocean.” She sat back down, removing the boots and setting them aside.
“They’re fairly useful on land.”
Tonya allowed a faint smile. Diane took it as a victory. She pulled out her more practical winter dresses and laid them on the bed.
“Women typically wear dresses here, so a dress for you in case of any situation that doesn’t involve endless walking.”
Tonya rubbed her fingers across the cloth of the blue dress, edged with tiny embroidered flowers of yellow and red.
“But these are yours. And you’re a princess. Surely I shouldn’t take these? Is that right?”
She seemed to be asking after land etiquette.
Diane removed one of her finer winter dresses and added it to the bed.
“Normally, no. But I’m going to be gone for a few weeks, and I’d rather you use mine instead of them lying useless in the wardrobe. We need all our winter clothes here. No one else can spare them.”
Tonya tilted her head and studied Diane with grey-green eyes. “You’re very kind.”
Diane shrugged, as if that would deflect the compliment. “People say so, but they don’t see that I’m trying to be practical.”
Tonya shook her head. “No, you’re just a good person. In the ocean, no one would do this for me. Besides Sophie.”
“Friend?” Diane dug out her traveling clothes.
“Cousin.” Tonya tucked her knees up to her chest.
“I wish I had a cousin. I only have Edmund.” Diane laid out her lined tr
ousers and a short green woolen dress. Her thickest knee-length coat would go over the top.
Tonya smiled. “He seems nice. I sometimes wish I had a sibling.”
“He drives me crazy most days.” Diane grinned.
Tonya giggled, a sound that conjured an image of dancing waves along a shoreline. Diane passed Tonya her second pair of traveling clothes.
“You might not get cold, but these will hold up better than your tunic.”
A knock announced Matilde and she pushed in, carrying two leather packs.
“I found a spare one for you, dear,” she told Tonya. “I’m just not sure about that bag you brought.”
Diane winked at Tonya. “Matilde doesn’t trust anything that wasn’t made here in the village.”
Matilde hushed her and flicked her fingers at Diane’s nose. Diane evaded with ease, and Tonya watched, amusement creasing around her eyes.
Matilde propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the clothes laid out. “For both of you?”
Diane nodded, smothering her offense at Matilde’s sigh.
“In your parents and grandparents’ time, you would have traveled in a carriage, with at least three trunks packed to the brim. Not on foot, with what you can fit into a pack.”
“I agree, not walking would be better,” Diane said.
Inexperienced riders would make their journey more difficult if trouble should arise, and they could not afford the extra burden of taking feed for the horses since ice would keep them from grazing. The faeries had agreed that attempting to summon griffons or the pegasi from the mountains in Celedon Forest might be too dangerous. The magic creatures had been even more wary since the war and didn’t always listen to the faeries the way they once had.
Thus, the walking. It would take at least a week to reach the Strait.
“Boots?” Matilde crooked an eyebrow.
Diane held up her lined pair of walking boots and pointed to the pair she’d given Tonya. Matilde took over the packing, rolling clothes and other essentials into neat bundles and tucking them inside the bags.
Matilde picked up Tonya’s bone-handled knife, pursing her lips with a nod of approval. “Elegant, and useful. You’ll want to keep this on your belt, dear.”
Tonya took it back without a word.
Diane glanced at the corner where her own weapon lay—a short staff that would easily double as a walking stick. The small weight in the bottom of her stomach grew a little heavier, the staff a reminder of the danger they faced on the road.
Bandits took advantage of the fact that the remainder of the army was spread thin. Rogue magic from the war still swirled in parts of the kingdoms, taking the form of terrifying creatures that would attack at random. Not to mention the distrust between humans and faeries, and the tenuous nature of the peace that lingered between Myrnius and Durne the last few years.
Their journey sounded less appealing by the moment.
Matilde fussed with the ties of the packs, sniffing a little, doling out advice as if she regularly undertook journeys to the north.
Diane gently pulled the packs away from Matilde and opened her arms. Matilde crushed her in a hug.
“Not that I’m happy with this whole arrangement. I’d much rather that young Ralf was going with you. But you’ll do just fine. Take care of yourself.” Matilde rubbed Diane’s shoulder as her voice hitched.
Diane squeezed tighter, blinking back her own tears. “I’ll miss you.”
“You too, my lady.” Matilde cleared her throat, back to her normal self. She glanced at Tonya, who’d looked away, her cheeks flushed.
“Take care of yourself too, lass. They said all this ice came from you, but I don’t think you meant it. Not like some other faeries I’ve seen. And I don’t know about those two faery lads, but I think you and Diane can solve the problem all by yourselves.”
Tonya’s face grew a little redder, a bit of a smile turning up her lips. “You think so?”
Matilde reached out to pat her arm. “It’s an uncertain world we live in now. And like I tell my Diane, you have to take what you know and stare the problem in the face. Because who is going to make it better, if not you?”
“But what if we fail? What if I can’t undo the magic?” Tonya whispered, her fear leaking out onto her face.
“Then you try again. That’s all failing is. Something not done right the first time.”
Tonya sniffed, flicking a hand across her nose. “Sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Matilde’s deep, rich laugh burst forth, then Diane joined her, and Tonya smiled.
“To bed, both of you!” Matilde waved her hand. “It’s an early start planned.”
A cot had been dragged in for Tonya, who’d initially shyly protested sharing a room with Diane. She ran her fingers over the blankets.
“You don’t have to use them if you don’t want,” Diane said, sliding underneath her extra layers of blankets.
Tonya nodded and lay down on the cot, curling on her side to face the fire still blazing on the hearth. Diane snuffed the candles and lay down, crossing her arms over her stomach. Her thoughts ran rampant, filled with worries for the journey, and random details from the reports as she mentally traced their journey to the north again.
Tonya didn’t seem in any hurry to fall asleep either. Diane eventually turned on her side away from Tonya, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to fall asleep.
I hope Matilde is right.
Chapter Twelve
Dawn came much too early. Diane dragged herself out from under the blankets, shivering in the cool air that rushed in to greet her. Tonya still slept atop her blankets, not even having the decency to look cold.
Diane frowned, hopping her way across the frigid floor tiles to the embers of the fire. She brought it back to a semblance of life before dashing behind the changing screen and exchanging her nightgown for the lined trousers and knee length dress she’d left out. She pulled on thick stockings, saving her toes from certain frostbite.
Tonya stirred with Matilde’s knock. She sat up, rubbing her eyes in bleary confusion, as Matilde bustled into the room.
“Oh, good! You’re both awake. Hurry and change, Miss Tonya. Breakfast is out already, and you don’t want to miss out on the last hot meal you’ll likely have for a while.”
“Hot food?” Tonya tilted her head.
“Breakfast is meant to be served piping hot here on land.” Diane pulled her boots on, tying the laces in perfect knots.
A frown lingered in the corner of Tonya’s mouth, but she took the clothes that Diane had given her and went behind the changing screen. Matilde took a hairbrush and gestured for Diane to take a seat.
“Humor me, my lady.” She brandished the brush.
Diane sat meekly and let Matilde coax the tangles from her long hair, plaiting it from her left ear across the crown of her head, and wrapping all the way around. Matilde removed the hairpins from her mouth and neatly pinned it.
Diane ran a finger across the smooth strands, trying to ignore the sudden stinging in her eyes. I’ll miss her so much.
Matilde patted her shoulder. “That should keep you for a few days.” She sniffed and turned away, exclaiming as Tonya reappeared around the corner of the screen.
“Those fit better than I thought they might!” Matilde straightened the dress and eyed the hem, which fell a few inches below Tonya’s knees. The trousers piled around her ankles and she stood awkwardly clutching her old clothes.
The dark green color had coaxed a change in Tonya’s features. Before, her narrow cheeks and chin had looked just as delicate as the other ocean faeries, but now they stood a little sharper and more wild, the green taking over the grey in her eyes.
“Have a seat, dear. I’m not sending you off to the wilds without a decent braid either.” Matilde ushered her to the dressing table, and Diane hopped up to let Tonya take her seat.
Minutes later, a matching braid wrapped Tonya’s head. She gently touched it, staring at herself in th
e mirror.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Matilde.
The woman beamed. “You’re quite welcome. Now, boots on, and to breakfast!”
Diane and Tonya carried their packs to the main hall, setting them down by the door before heading into the dining room. Edmund sat at the table, plate half empty already. The kitchen servant brought out plates for Diane and Tonya.
Tonya stared down at the warm toast smothered in jam, and the eggs and steaming links of sausage.
“It’s delicious, trust me.” Diane nudged her shoulder. Tonya raised her eyebrow, but tentatively lifted the toast to take a small nibble. She took a larger bite, a bit of a grin on her lips as she sampled the rest of the food.
“I think I could get used to hot breakfast.”
“And you haven’t even tried kaffe yet.” Diane ladled sugar into her own steaming cup.
“Don’t corrupt her with your kaffe-drinking ways.” Edmund jabbed his fork at Diane.
She narrowed her eyes in a mock frown.
“How much do you drink?” Tonya asked.
Diane smiled around a bite of sausage. “I’d drink it all day if I could.”
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Edmund muttered with a smirk.
Tonya’s smile turned to a grimace as she tried the beverage in question. “I think I’ll leave it to you.” She pushed the mug away.
“Good to see there’s at least one sensible faery going along,” Edmund said, not quite disguising the edge around the word “faery.”
Diane frowned again. If he’s not happy with me going with faeries, then he shouldn’t have volunteered me.
All the same, she tried to draw out breakfast, eating slowly. Once she walked out the front door, she wouldn’t be coming back for a while.
“Ready?” Edmund finally asked as the clock chimed the hour.
Diane nodded, finishing her kaffe in a last gulp. I should have made sure to put some in my pack.
They pushed back from the table and walked outside where a crowd of faeries and humans had begun to gather.
Edmund helped Diane shrug into her pack, making sure the straps set evenly against her shoulders. He extended her staff and she took it, rubbing it between her hands, the cold wind stinging her eyes.
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