Forest of Firelight

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Forest of Firelight Page 8

by Shari L. Tapscott


  Slowly, I turn, a nervous smile flitting across my face. He stands, unmoving, making me feel awkward and impulsive. Slowly, I slide my arm out of his, not daring to look at his face.

  “How have you managed to live twenty-three years when disaster knocks upon your door weekly?” he finally asks, his voice low.

  I let out a nervous laugh, finally meeting his eyes. “May I be honest?”

  His only response is a raised brow.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, my eyes move to his shoulder. When I think I can manage it again, I look back at his face. “I wasn’t acquainted with mishap until I met you. My life was, truly, rather dull.”

  Something inscrutable flashes across his face, and he looks away, letting out a long sigh.

  “I’m sorry, by the way,” I finally work up the nerve to say.

  He turns back. “For what?”

  “For saying that we…” I clear my throat, wishing I could disappear. “Never mind. Thank you for your assistance; I hope you didn’t have to go too far out of your way.”

  With that, I turn to leave, properly mortified. I’ve only walked two steps when Rhys catches my wrist, just as he did that night in the orchard. With my back to him, I close my eyes, trying to get my wits about me.

  It’s wrong, I know, but I’m fascinated by this man. He steals my breath and makes my stomach flip, and since the night he saved me in Kippert, he’s consumed my thoughts. I shouldn’t be attracted to him, certainly shouldn’t flutter over him. I’m looking for a man to be king. Though Rhys remains less than an acquaintance, I sense—I somehow know—he’s not an option.

  When I feel confident enough to face him once more, I turn back.

  “Why were you looking for me?” he asks, his green eyes on mine. His expression is enigmatic, though it’s bordering on impatient.

  It’s that look that makes me tug my wrist from his grasp. If I’m such a nuisance, he can stop…rescuing me.

  Rhys’s eyebrows jump when I yank away, but he waits for my answer.

  “Who said I was looking for you?” I demand. “You’re the one who passed me on the boardwalk. Don’t tell me you didn’t mean to catch my eye.”

  Judging from the almost amused look that crosses his face, I realize that came out wrong. My cheeks flush, but I stand my ground, tilting my jaw slightly in the air.

  “We’re leaving Talton tomorrow,” I continue, fighting for dignity.

  “All right.”

  “I thought you might want to know.”

  Rhys doesn’t say anything, which is beyond unnerving.

  “Well.” I take a breath and give him a tight smile. “Goodbye then.”

  I turn, and again, he stops me, this time with both hands on my shoulders. He steps up behind me, standing so close, I can feel the heat of his chest close to my back.

  “How will you travel?” he asks near my ear.

  Warmth floods my body, his question making me feel slightly less ridiculous. “In the morning, we’re taking the ferry to Grib. From there, we’ll sail along the coast to Bayshore.”

  “Do you want me to follow you? Is that why you sought me out?” He asks so quietly, the words are almost a whisper. “Did you worry that if you didn’t tell me, I would miss the ferry?”

  I don’t trust my voice, but I manage to say, “Would you have missed it?”

  He’s quiet for several seconds. “No.”

  Steeling my nerves, I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Then my answer doesn’t matter.”

  A smile so brief I might have imagined it crosses Rhys’s lips. He drops his hands, setting me free. I begin down the stairs, holding the rail so I won’t trip in my flustered state.

  “Amalia,” Rhys calls before I’ve taken even two steps.

  I look back.

  He leans against the rail. “Unless you’re begging to be robbed, please hide the necklace.”

  I wake to the steady drizzle of rain pattering against my shuttered window. Yawning, I stretch and then roll over, pulling the blankets up to my neck. I haven’t slept well since leaving home, but right now, the bed is warm, the room is cool, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been this comfortable in my life.

  Ember must agree. She’s normally up at the crack of dawn, begging to go outside. This morning, the dog remains next to my bed, sound asleep.

  I’m just drifting when Gage knocks on the door. “Time to get up, lazy princess.”

  “Go away,” I mutter into my pillow, just loud enough he should hear me through the door.

  “The ferry leaves in less than an hour. Are we going or not?”

  Oh, bother.

  If I hadn’t told Rhys we’d be traveling to Grib today, I’d stay in bed. But I did tell him. What will he do if he boards the ferry, expecting me, and we never make it?

  Why is he following you?

  It’s an obnoxious voice, one that’s full of common sense and reason. I push it aside. I have a protector—a guardian—a man who materializes the moment I need him. I wasn’t lying when I told Rhys it felt like magic.

  However, I must admit he brought up a valid point yesterday. In the brief time I’ve known him, I’ve found more trouble than I’ve experienced in the whole of my life.

  I don’t know what to think about that.

  “Are we leaving or not?” Gage calls, sounding as if he wouldn’t mind going back to bed himself.

  “Yes.” I toss back the covers and then shiver. “I’ll be out shortly.”

  My horse doesn’t like the wide gangplank that leads onto the ferry, and Ember likes it too much.

  “Ember, hush,” I say, begging the dog to stop howling hello to all the people who are not nearly as impressed with her as she is with them. At the same time, I try to coax the currently unnamed mare onto a plank that she’s certain is going to shatter under her hooves.

  Gage’s horse isn’t doing any better, so he’s no help. My cousin is ahead of me, talking with the captain, trying to keep his mare under control. She shifts from side to side, disliking the feel of the boat swaying in the water and the chaos surrounding us.

  “May I be of assistance?” a man says from behind me, causing dread to pool in my belly.

  I turn and find the pawnbroker.

  “Oh…hello, Rupert,” I say, uneasy.

  “I owe you an apology. I was too eager yesterday evening.” He gives me a friendly smile that I don’t trust. “I’m afraid I was taken with your necklace, and I came on too strong.”

  Ember, bless her furry heart, lunges on her lead, attempting to say hello to a nearby woman who looks as though she believes the overly friendly dog wants to eat her.

  “No,” I tell Ember sternly, wishing she’d just listen. She was so good at home, but she’s been having a difficult time adjusting to this transient lifestyle. There are simply too many new sights and smells.

  Without waiting for permission, Rupert takes my horse’s lead. He speaks soft words to the mare, coaxing her up the ramp. She tosses her head, her eyes wild, but she eventually gives in.

  “I don’t suppose you’re in the market for a horse, are you?” I ask, exasperated.

  Rupert laughs. “Not today.”

  I kneel in the middle of the ramp, causing people to grumble around me, and capture Ember’s attention.

  “No,” I tell her again, making her listen this time.

  The dog gets the most pitiful look on her face, and then she lets out a sad howl that might tug at my heart if I weren’t struck temporarily deaf.

  Thankfully, Ember seems to have gotten the point. She stares at the people around us with a longing that some dogs reserve for scraps of meat, but she stays by my side and doesn’t open her mouth again.

  When I reach Rupert, he’s managed to calm my horse. At least now the mare doesn’t look like she’s going to bolt.

  “She’s a beautiful dog,” Rupert says, nodding to Ember. “I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is she a wolf mix of some
sort?”

  “No, she’s a Draeganish Wolfdog.”

  “Ah,” he says, but from the look on his face, it’s clear he’s never heard of the breed.

  Gage joins me, nodding at Rupert but looking at my horse’s lead with a questioning tilt of his brows. Perhaps he picks up on my mood, or he’s merely cautious of strangers, but he’s not as friendly as usual. “They’ll take her now,” he says to me, motioning to the attendant walking behind him.

  Rupert hands the horse over to the man, and I breathe a sigh of relief, happy they’ll tend her for the day. I’m sure they’re used to the skittish behavior.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Gage says to Rupert, likely expecting him to go on his way.

  Undaunted by the polite dismissal, Rupert glances around the deck and smiles to himself. Then he says to me, “It looks as though they’re preparing to leave. Where is your betrothed?”

  Gage opens his mouth, understandably startled, but I shoot him a subtle look that informs him if he doesn’t keep quiet, he’ll regret it later. Looking slightly baffled, my cousin frowns.

  “Oh, he’s…” I glance around, pretending to look for Rhys. “Well, I think he must be—”

  “I’m here.” Rhys comes up behind me and loops an arm around my shoulder, tucking me close to his side. He then turns to me, his solemn eyes meeting mine. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  14

  I stand near the edge of the ferry with Tryndon, drumming my fingers on my crossed arms.

  “Aren’t you going to help her?” my brother asks as Amalia fights with both her horse and dog. The horse wants nothing to do with the gangplank, and the dog wants nothing more than to greet everyone—loudly. The two pull the princess in opposite directions. In a moment, either the dog or the horse is going to get its way.

  Likely the dog.

  I glance at Tryndon. “No.”

  My brother frowns, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he marched over there and offered to assist her himself.

  “I have a plan,” I tell him for what feels like the hundredth time. “If I were to go over there now, it would throw everything off course. Amalia will be fine. Her cousin will help her in a moment.”

  Tryndon scoffs, turning his face heavenward, but he doesn’t argue.

  But it’s not her cousin who comes to Amalia’s aid. I stand straighter, narrowing my eyes at the man who cornered Amalia yesterday outside the courier’s office.

  He’s likely in his mid to late twenties, older than I am by several years. His face is lean, too angular to be handsome, but he’s not necessarily homely either.

  He also has a snake-like quality about him, something I can’t pinpoint but I recognize as plain as day. I listen to him apologize for yesterday evening. Though he sounds contrite, it’s obvious he’s lying through his teeth.

  Gage hands off his horse and turns back to his cousin, frowning when he spots the pawnbroker standing with her.

  “It looks like they’re preparing to leave,” the man says after he’s free of Amalia’s horse. “Where is your betrothed?”

  I narrow my eyes. He’s trying to catch her in a lie—hoping to prove she’s alone.

  Amalia falters and glances around. “Oh, he’s…”

  My feet are moving before I even make the decision.

  “Well, I think he must be—"

  “I’m here,” I say, coming up behind the princess. As if she were mine, I loop my arm around her back and pull her close to my side.

  Amalia turns to me, blinking her soft brown eyes, stunned.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I add.

  Her lips part, and she searches my face, looking for clues on how to proceed. I haven’t thought that far ahead. In fact, I didn’t think at all. Suddenly, I was simply abandoning Tryndon and heading toward the disaster of a princess.

  Gage looks gobsmacked, which is a problem. There’s no telling what he’s going to say. He glances back at Amalia, mouth hanging open. Quickly, she hides her surprise.

  “There you are,” she says to me. A smile brightens her face. I recognize it—it’s simply a brighter version of the one she wears like a cloak. It’s almost real. “I was worried you were going to miss the ferry.”

  I raise my brows. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

  She flushes, her fake smile flickering, and her cheeks turn pink. “You did.” She turns back to Gage and Rupert as if she needs to confirm it. “He did.”

  Rupert watches us, not pleased that I’ve ruined his plans. I subtly tilt my head to the side, daring him to challenge me. He responds with a tight nod.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Rhys,” Amalia explains to Rupert. To Gage, she adds, “I’ll return soon.”

  Her cousin’s expression morphs into a sharp smile. “Hurry back. The three of us have much to discuss.”

  “It was good to see you,” Rupert says to Amalia, all but ignoring me. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

  The princess presses her lips together, forcing a smile, and pushes the dog’s leash into her cousin’s hand. She then wraps her fingers around my arm and pulls me down the ferry’s deck. We pass Tryndon, and he flashes me a wicked smile that I ignore.

  Amalia leads me past a stack of chicken crates, complete with squawking birds, and a cluster of young children staring over the side of the ferry. Their hands are clasped tightly on the rail as they look into the bay.

  The princess doesn’t stop until we pass the chaos and find an empty stretch of railing. Satisfied we’re alone, she turns to me. “Thank you for covering for me. I have no idea what I would have told him.”

  I look down at my arm. Amalia’s eyes follow mine, and she stares at her hand as if stunned to find it there. After several seconds, she releases me.

  “It’s all right,” I say, drawing her attention back up. “We’ll be in Grib by evening.”

  “What if he sails to Bayshore as well? He said he’s from Saulette. What will I do if he’s traveling home?”

  She wrings her hands at her waist. When she catches me watching her, she clasps them, doing her best not to fidget.

  “He’s likely following you,” I tell her. “Probably hoping to steal your necklace.”

  She blanches. “We can’t assume. I mean, that’s not necessarily—” She cuts herself off. “Isn’t it too soon to accuse him of such a thing?”

  “It could be.”

  “You don’t believe that though.” Her eyes lock on mine. “Tell me, Rhys. How many times can two people meet before you must rule out coincidence?”

  I know what she’s asking.

  “Three,” I answer, my gaze never leaving hers.

  Her lips part with her quiet surprise. We’re well past that.

  She has questions, but we both know I won’t answer.

  An exasperated smile twitches her lips, and then she lets out a frustrated laugh, turning toward the railing as she runs a hand through her long, loose hair. “I won’t bother to ask why you’re here. Keep your secrets, if you must, but tell me one thing.”

  She mistakes my silence as permission to go on.

  Staring at the sea, she asks, “What’s your motivation? Every man has a goal—riches, prestige, love, lust, greed, power. What is yours?”

  I turn to face her, waiting until she meets my gaze. Once I have her full attention, I say, “Let’s go with honor.”

  “That’s a good answer,” she says softly.

  We study each other, acknowledging that we’re both harboring secrets.

  “All right, Rhys,” Amalia finally says. “I have a request to make of you.”

  Steeling myself, I look at her once more, waiting.

  “Stay by my side until Rupert takes his leave. Pose as my intended.”

  “And your brother?”

  She sighs, looking vexed. “I’ll speak with Gage and try to make him understand.” She pauses, and a frown passes over her face. How can she explain something she doesn’t understand herself? After a moment, she looks back at me
. “Well? Is it an honorable enough task for you? Will you help me?”

  I wait long enough that she begins to fidget. Finally, I put her out of her misery and give her a solemn nod. The princess rewards me with a relieved smile and then steps past, leaving me to my thoughts. At the last moment, she pauses and sets her hand over mine on the railing.

  Softly, she says, “I don’t know who you are, or where you came from, but I am thankful for you.”

  Reluctantly, I pull my gaze to Amalia’s.

  Her light brown eyes are earnest. “I want you to know that.”

  Then she’s gone, walking down the deck.

  I stare after her, rubbing the ache in the center of my chest with the heel of my palm.

  15

  “Who is he?” Gage demands when I return. Thankfully, Rupert is gone, off tormenting someone else for the time being.

  I give my cousin a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean who is he? Where did you meet him?”

  Gage is understandably agitated, but that’s not what has my attention. I tilt my head to the side like an owl, studying him.

  “Is he from Talton?” my cousin asks. “I assume you met sometime while you were exploring.”

  He doesn’t recognize Rhys from the night I got lost in the orchard. But now that I think of it, why would he? The meeting between them was brief, and it was dark.

  “He’s simply…a kind bystander,” I say, feeling the lie but not sure what the truth is. “Rupert cornered me yesterday evening, and Rhys intervened. Spur of the moment, I claimed he was my intended, and he was kind enough to go along with it.”

  Gage lets out a low groan, sounding both relieved and frustrated. “How did you find trouble in Talton? I’ve never seen so many bored guards in one village.”

  I give him a shrug.

  “Now what will you do?”

  I glance at Rhys, who has come to stand with a man—obviously someone he knows. He appears to be younger than Rhys by a few years, and he wears a smile. Though the man is blond, and Rhys’s hair is rich brown, they are similar enough in build and resemblance that I believe it’s safe to assume they’re related.

 

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