Her plan sounds fair, even if I don’t like it. At least the Sanguine nightmare is almost at an end. Any of the relief to be had is eclipsed by my anxiousness to see Lirra.
My guards fall into place behind me as I exit the hall. They will follow me all the way to Lirra’s house if I don’t stop them.
“I’m going alone” I say, regardless of the risks of traveling without their protection.
Both men stare at me. Lirra trusted me with the location of her home. I won’t compromise her family’s secrecy. “You won’t follow me. That’s a command. Do you understand?”
One nods, and the other’s eyes widen. In spite of the danger of traveling unguarded, I’ve done it before and can do so again now so as not to lead anyone to Lirra’s private home.
They agree to stay with Leif, and then I walk out of the castle and saddle up Gale. It’s a relief to ride my horse for the first time since arriving at the summit, instead of being carted around. At my urging, Gale tears out of the stables and across the Shaerdanian countryside of rolling hills cloaked by low hanging clouds and patches of forests. We enter the secluded glade around Lirra’s quaint home, and as I dismount, a few stray raindrops fall from the gray sky.
Leaving Gale to graze on the grass, I stride to the front door and knock.
“Aodren? What are you doing here?” Lirra’s voice comes from behind me.
I spin around and find her walking toward me. Air rushes into my lungs at the sight of her.
“What are you doing here?” she repeats, the words brisk and prickly.
I leap off the door’s stoop and meet her in the middle of the field. “I was worried. Leif told me what happened and I . . . I came as soon as I knew. Are you well?”
I have no doubt that the story Leif relayed, one told to him by Lirra, of Judge Soma and the Shaerdanian champions is true. And soon, all three will receive their due punishment. I’ll make sure of it.
“Well enough.” Her answer is tired and small. Her arms press tight to her body, and her gaze skitters around the clearing, lingering on the space separating us. Her eyes take in the smudges of soot on my tunic and my disheveled hair. “And you? Are you well?”
“I am. More so now than before. There was a fire, but I’m fine. And as for Soma, he’ll be dealt with, for this and for the Sanguine. When I think of you in the oubliette—”
A shudder rolls from her shoulders to her toes, and I shut my lips, pressing them into a sealed line to keep from saying anything more that would bring her discomfort.
I step forward, opening my arms. “Lirra? Truly, I’m here if you need to talk.”
She doesn’t move forward, and I wonder if she realizes I have just repeated the same words she gave me when I was suffering. Lirra stares at my arms. One hard blink, and then: “I’m fine. I am.”
If the dark smudges under her eyes and the unusual pallor of her skin are any indication, she is lying. To both of us.
“But I’m not,” I say.
Her chin kicks up, a question forming on her mouth.
“I think of you stuck there, and it kills me. I should have known something was wrong when you didn’t meet me before the showcase. I’ll never forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you.”
Lirra draws in a stuttering breath.
It feels like we are two damaged ships at sea amidst a swell threatening to sink us, when all we really need to survive is each other. The provisions she’s lacking I have in abundance, and what I need is simply her.
Her lips are sealed together tight. Her eyes stare at me with more sadness than I can handle.
My body lurches toward hers, and I pull her into my arms.
Lirra softens, her body slumping against mine, her curves the right fit to my hard angles as if we were made for each other. I breathe in her bright, sunshine scent, wanting to capture it. A quiet sob catches on my surcoat, and her shoulders tremble.
“Lirra,” I whisper, tightening my arms around her. “Lirra, I’m here.” I run a soothing hand up and down her back and then hang my forehead beside her neck, wishing I could do more to return her light. “It must have been terrifying.”
Her head bobs.
“I’m sorry.” I run my fingers over her hair and drop a kiss onto her forehead. “I’m sorry you missed the showcase. You worked hard, and everyone would have loved your gliders.”
She clutches me tighter, as if she’ll never have the chance again. I have to swallow my chuckle, because I have no intention of ever letting go. “I wish I could take away your anguish. I would do anything for you.” The firm truth in my words surprises me.
Lirra leans back to peer up at me with sad eyes, and then she’s moving away, freeing herself from my arms and drying her face with the backs of her hands. Did I say something wrong?
She looks off at the gray horizon. “Is there another reason you came? Other than to check on me?”
I stare at her. She’s using all my worst lines. Is she trying to push me away?
“You were my only reason,” I admit.
Her hands flex. Shadows move over the ground we’re standing on. Above us, clouds block the sun.
“Leif told me how you were caught,” I say after a long pause, knowing at some point her testimony will be a key piece of evidence if the Channelers Guild cannot find anything else. I explain what Leif told us about the conversation Lirra heard. “A meeting is set with the Akarians and the Channelers Guild for this afternoon. We will meet two hours before the start of the tournament and the jubilee. They need proof that Soma is supplying Sanguine. Your testimony would be enough. Will you come?”
“I . . . I could’ve been mistaken,” Lirra says, as if she cannot believe it herself. “I’m not certain I heard him correctly.”
“Pardon?” I’m shocked. Leif had seemed so sure of Lirra’s story. And I’ve never known Lirra to lie, not about something as important as this.
“Soma may not be the supplier.”
May not be? “You don’t need to fear his reaction,” I say, guessing the reason. “He will not be able to touch you again. As soon as I return to the castle, I’ll use my authority to ensure he will not approach you, and neither will his guards. You won’t have to look over your shoulder.” She will have the protection of the alliance among Akaria, the Channelers Guild, and Malam. More than that, she’ll have mine. I will never allow anyone to harm Lirra again.
“I’m not afraid of him.” Her voice is stronger now. A raindrop hits her cheek, and she bats it away. “He might be giving Sanguine to his competitors—that’s something he’s already admitted to. But it doesn’t mean he’s broken the law. At least, not one that has been written in the big rule book.”
Could Leif have misunderstood? No.
“Why would Judge Soma put you in the oubliette, then? There has to be more to this story,” I say, my voice sharpening at the end.
Lirra jolts. She turns around, giving me her back. Dirt from the oubliette marks her clothing and hits me with new guilt. “There is nothing more.”
She has no motivation to protect Judge Soma. I can fathom no other reason why she’d lie for him. This doesn’t make sense.
“No new development? Anything to clarify what you first heard?”
She emphatically shakes her head. “No. I overheard him giving Sanguine to Otto and Folger, nothing more. It doesn’t prove he’s the supplier.”
That much is true. During the first dinner the summit shared, Soma admitted he thought the oil was beneficial. If Lirra has nothing more incriminating to add, there isn’t enough to prove Judge Soma is the supplier. The conversation Lirra overheard was all we needed, and now she’s pulling it away. Why?
“You’re certain?” I ask.
“I have already answered this, Aodren. Yes, I am certain. I have nothing more.” Her voice is tight and angry.
I pace toward Gale, trying to get a hold on my thoughts. Lirra’s posture is strung tight as a cistern’s strings, and her hands are clenched in the loose material of her tunic. Ther
e is no reason she could possibly want to help Judge Soma after he threw her in the oubliette. But she’s lying, I’m certain of it. I just don’t know about what.
“I’ll let Leif know,” I say, my acceptance coming out gruffly. “Will you still come to the meeting?”
“I have nothing for them.”
“Yes, I know, but you have been part of this search. I would like for you to give any input. We will meet two hours before the tournament, by the field.”
She dips her chin in a small nod, and I take it to mean she will come. It’s a relief. I stare up at the gray clouds slinking across the sky and darkening the horizon. A raindrop hits my nose, my shoulder, my chest, a warning of the downpour sure to come.
“The summit is almost over,” I say, loathing the fact that I will be returning to Malam in a few short days. She turns around, and I take in the beautiful curves of her face, wanting to memorize them. There is so much left to learn about Lirra. Something tells me that I could spend a lifetime near her and still be entranced by her wit. If I thought there was even a sliver of a chance she’d consider living in Malam, I would ask her to come with me. Her family still has land there that is rightfully hers. But I know how she feels about Malam. She will never leave Shaerdan.
“Let’s not waste what little time we have left talking about the oil,” I say, wanting to stretch these last days until they last forever. I hate that today’s reunion has already been dampened by Judge Soma. “You missed the showcase, but I am still eager to watch you fly your gliders. Will you show me?”
Lirra’s gaze is caught on Gale, who has moved from her lawn to the edge of the clearing, where the grasses grow longer. More raindrops patter on the ground.
“Or we could go for a ride,” I offer when she doesn’t respond. “I know it’s starting to rain, but what do you say?”
The edges of her mouth quirk upward.
A gust of wind blows between us. The almost smile flits away, and Lirra steps back. “You’re leaving soon.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Not today. I meant you’re returning to Malam after the summit.” Her hand waves in the air, as if adding a dozen more tasks to an invisible list. “There’s no time left.”
“We could make time.” I don’t care that I sound desperate.
“Do you not have a meeting today?” She wears a tight smile.
“I canceled it.”
“You shouldn’t have done that. Not for me,” she says, and I want to yell. Can she not see how important she is to me?
“Lirra. Of course for you.” I step forward. “I want to be here. I would do anything for—”
“Don’t say it,” she whispers. “The time we’ve spent together has been fun, but . . . I have other things that need my attention. My life is busy.” She adds a light laugh that rings false in my ears.
There is so much wrong with what she’s said, I don’t know where to begin. I shudder against the forced happiness in her tone, because it mocks the depth of what I feel. Whatever has developed between us has completely entranced me. I know she feels similarly. She admitted as much the other night. Fun, she said. Yes, it has been that, and also so much more. I’ve given her my trust, and if I’m being honest, my heart as well.
Perhaps the approaching end has eclipsed her feelings. The summit is nearly over, and for that I have no solution. Regardless of my feelings for Lirra, I must return to my kingdom, and I know she will stay in hers.
“Meet me at the cathedral tomorrow before dawn,” I implore. “This doesn’t have to be the end. Let’s not say goodbye now.”
Her eyes sweep closed. Is she thinking of watching the sunrise with me? Gods, I hope so.
A rumble of thunder bellows above, and Lirra’s eyes snap open. The clouds give up their fight, and the rain falls. Lirra raises her hand to keep droplets out of her eyes and glances to the house. “I cannot.”
The rejection is a slap.
“Aodren,” she says, and I think she’s drumming up a response to soften the blow. “I don’t think we should see each other again. It’s best we part ways now.”
Her words level me.
“Is that really what you want?” I croak. “Is this where we end?”
“Goodbye, Your Highness.”
Chapter
34
Lirra
THE RAIN SOAKS ME. I KEEP MY HEAD DOWN, eyes pinched closed, as Aodren’s horse gallops out of the clearing, each hoofbeat a chisel to the fractures in my heart. When he’s gone, all that remains is a mess of splintered, ugly pieces inside my hollow chest.
It’s better this way. Da’s knack for keeping secrets won’t stand against the Channelers Guild and two kingdoms’ determination to uncover the truth. From the little I overheard this morning, I know that when the entirety of Da’s machinations comes to light, the devastation will be immense. All this time, as Aodren and I were searching for someone with Channeler knowledge and power in the trade industry, I never considered Da.
I still don’t understand how he and Soma are working together, or if Astoria is involved. I hope for the sake of my broken heart that she is not.
All I’m certain of is what I heard.
I’m surprised she hasn’t caught on to me, Da said. But now that I have, I wish I’d never looked into Sanguine, never thought to prove myself to Da so he could spend more time at home. Of all the secrets I’ve kept for my father, this is the one that hurts the most. The Akarians and the Channelers Guild are all hunting down the truth alongside Aodren. It’s not a matter of if he’ll find out the truth, but when. He’ll never look at me the same.
The thought is too much to bear, so I made the selfish choice. I picked facing his confusion and pain today rather than the loathing rejection that is sure to come.
“Lirra, you’ll catch a cold,” Eugenia shouts. The squeak of the door is barely audible over the downpour. She holds it open and waves at me. “Hurry in.”
She doesn’t complain when I step into the kitchen and a lake of water drips from my trousers. Eugenia wraps me in a blanket, the one from her bed. “What were you doing?”
A shiver racks my spine. I shake my head, mouth too chalky and bitter to talk.
“We came to the showcase.” She waits, and when I don’t respond, she adds, “The boys were so excited to see your gliders. But you didn’t perform.”
I think of my glider and wonder if it’s still sitting on a Channeler cart at the tournament field. I spent months designing and building the wings. Performing in the showcase has been a secret dream of mine for so long. And now what? Do I wait another five years? The answer falls into the same gray obscurity that has become Da’s future as well as my own.
“I decided not to,” I say, voice wooden.
“Lirra.” She touches my arm. “I was wrong to criticize you for not spending enough time helping your da. His business, that’s his dream. And I know you try to help him because you love him. But his business isn’t your dream. Let it be his, while you find yours.”
“Is that all? I . . . I should go change.”
“You must’ve had a long night,” she says, not wanting to pry, and at the same time, her tone is tinged with curiosity. Again, I don’t respond. Her hands are working the mess of hair off my drenched face. “You look weary. Which won’t do for today’s event. The boys have been looking forward to watching the last tournament event and then the grand finale of the jubilee. Everyone will be in their finest for tonight, so we need to get you dried, rested, and dressed in that pretty green gown you own.”
Her tone is no different than usual, but today I hear a gentleness in her voice, a motherly sound. Has it always been there, and I never noticed?
“If only your father had returned in time,” she sighs.
I tuck away the rise of hurt into the farthest corner of my heart and step out of her loose embrace. The little clip-clap of footsteps announces the twins. Julisa must be down for a nap.
“Why’s Lirra all wet?” Loren kicks the puddle I
’ve made.
“Don’t spread the water,” Eugenia scolds. “Go fetch a rag to help sop up the mess.”
Of course he doesn’t listen. Instead, Loren points at my clothing. “You been playing in the rain? Without us?”
I don’t know why the question loosens a broken laugh. “Something like that.”
“I like the rain, but I hope it clears before dusk,” Loren says. “We’re dying to see the jubilee.”
“We’re hoping they’ll let you fly your gliders tonight, Lir,” Kiefer admits. Hardly ever one to talk, his soft-spoken manner is the first spread of balm to the ache inside me. “Since you missed last night.”
Eugenia rubs the blanket over my arms, adding more warmth to the ice under my skin. “After the excitement that’s been building in this house, it would be a wonderful thing if the Guild allowed you to perform. Perhaps you can talk to your aunt Katallia and she can find some way for you to go on.”
Her enthusiasm is echoed by the boys.
“Do you think?” Kiefer asks.
His hopeful face, so sweet and genuine and mirrored by the others, hurts my heart, because I know the answer will disappoint. “No, I’ve missed my chance. But . . . there is always next time.”
Eugenia scoots the littleuns out of the kitchen. For once, I allow myself to lean on her, using her support to help me to my attic room, where I strip out of my wet clothes and find solace in the cocoon of my warm bed.
The lumps of the straw mattress dig into my hip. My blanket, well-worn and comfortable, itches my neck. I toss side to side, seeking rest.
It doesn’t come until long after Aodren and the Guild have begun their meeting.
* * *
We reach the field, the twins winding around me. They’re so excited, it takes time to navigate through the crowd. After we find a place with a decent view, I tell Eugenia that I’m going to check on my glider, to ensure that it’s still here and no one has harmed it.
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