Prince of Stars, Son of Fate

by H. L. Burke

  In my bed ...

  The thought sent a wave of heat through her in spite of her weakened state. Like a timid seedmouse, her hand crept up his chest and onto his face. His beard tickled gently against her fingertips before they brushed across his lips. The warmth of his breath stole her own away.

  “Kay?” she whispered.

  He sat up with a gasp, nearly toppling her off the bed. His arms caught her as she wobbled at the edge of the mattress.

  “Arynne?” Relief lit his face, and his hold on her tightened into a vice-like embrace. She nestled into him, holding on with what little remained of her strength. His emotions poured through the heartbond, filling her up but muddling her thoughts. Love, fear, relief, worry. It looped through her and back into him, growing in intensity with each cycle. Tears streamed from her eyes as they lay, entwined together.

  In spite of the joy of his return, worry gnawed at her.

  “Kay, should you be here? If your father catches you, he’ll kill you.” She clutched at his shirt, simultaneously longing for him to stay with her and suspecting that he’d be much safer if he were anywhere else.

  “It’s fine, Arynne. I’m safe for the moment.” He stroked her cheek. “Clindt told him that if something happens to me while you’re sick, the shock through the heartbond would most likely kill you, and he won’t risk losing the Sun Princess he needs for his prophecy.”

  Her worry eased, slightly, but doubt still chewed at her. Did that mean if she got better something would happen to him? Well, he’d have time to flee before that. It was hard to keep a man who could travel trapped for long.

  He kissed her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re awake. For the last two moonnotches, Clindt has sworn up and down that you were getting better, that your ‘life-color’ was returning, whatever that means.” His fingers twined into her hair. “As much as he tried to convince me, though, with you not waking up—I couldn’t help but worry.”

  Arynne swallowed. “You’ve been with me for two waking and resting-times?” The thought that she’d wasted precious time with Kay by being unconscious irked her.

  “Closer to three, but the first was touch and go.” His hold loosened, and he withdrew enough to examine her face. “How do you feel?”

  “Weak, a little achy.” Her stomach gave an unceremonious rumble. Alerted to the empty pit that was her midsection, she grimaced. “Hungry.”

  “Hungry is good.” He smiled. “We actually prepared for that.” He slipped from her arms, and she immediately regretted mentioning her desire for food. What good was a full stomach if her arms were empty?

  He pushed back the curtains of the bed. The bedroom was as she remembered it, except for the addition of a small table with a bowl of fruit, a basket of bread, and a covered tureen, along with miscellaneous dishes. Based on the crumbs scattered over one plate, Kay had apparently already eaten.

  “Sigid’s been bringing up enough for two, even though you’ve been out. She’ll be delighted not to have to cart away so many leftovers.” He took the cover off the tureen and ladled some liquid into an earthenware bowl. His nose wrinkled. “I think it’s gone cold.”

  “Here.” She wriggled to sit up in bed, her back against the hard headboard, then stretched out her hands. Though her body was weak, her magic simmered in her chest at full strength. Kay passed her the bowl which she cupped between her hands. She concentrated on controlling the flow of magic, a trickle rather than the flood that wished to escape from her. The bowl warmed to her touch and the golden broth within began to steam.

  Kay pulled a chair beside the bed.

  She brought the bowl to her lips and sipped the salty, savory liquid. It trickled down her throat, and her bellyache eased.

  He watched her eat in silence, other than the occasional offer to fetch more food. She devoured two bowls of broth and half a loaf of sweet, brown bread before wiping at her chin and passing him her empty bowl. “Thank you.”

  He placed the dish on the table and took her hand. “I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful it is to see you well again, Arynne. When I saw you lying there ...” He winced and shook his head. “I’m just glad you are all right.”

  She gazed down at his long fingers intertwined with hers. Her rich brown skin starkly contrasted against his ruddy but still far paler tones. The simple pleasure of his hand in hers sent waves of warmth through her, but at the same time she longed for so much more.

  “I told Clindt I’d fetch him if you woke up,” he said. “I’m sure he wants to examine you, to be certain you’re fully on the mend.”

  “Not yet, please!” She drew his hand closer, against her breast. “I want a little longer alone with you.”

  “I suppose a few more minutes won’t hurt.” A mischievous glint crept into his blue eyes, chasing away the sorrow and worry for a precious moment. “Or maybe a moonnotch or a hundred.”

  “As long as we can get.” She smiled, bringing his hand up to her cheek. She lightly kissed it, her gaze focused on his.

  A ripple of doubt slipped through the heartbond, and he averted his eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  She forced her brow to furrow, determined not to understand him. “What?”

  “This.” He stood, ripping his hand from hers. Her heart twisted as he began to pace. “I can’t ... Arynne, I love touching you, being with you, talking to you, but it’s just going to make it harder when it’s inevitably over. I have at best a few more moonnotches before ... well ...” He paused, his back to her, shoulders slumped.

  Her happiness withered like a frost-kissed wildflower. “You’re leaving again so soon?” she whimpered.

  He turned to face her again, his expression hard, but his eyes pained. “Arynne, I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything, but we’re not meant to be together. Fate has other plans for both of us.”

  She scowled. “I don’t know what fate you’ve been consulting, but the one I’ve experienced disagrees. It keeps throwing me against you, and I’m tired of fighting it.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve already hurt you enough.”

  “You hurt me?” Her eyes widened. “Kay, I threw myself at you, tempted you to betray your brother, and got you banished from your kingdom. How am I the victim in this scenario?”

  The corners of his mouth wavered ever so slightly, but he turned away and took a step towards the door. “I need to get Clindt.”

  “No!” She leaped out of bed. Immediately, her legs gave out beneath her, and she toppled.

  Kay whirled and caught her before she hit the floor.

  Blushing, she gripped his shirt. Well, graceful or not, she’d gotten what she’d wanted.

  “Are you all right?” he stammered. With his arm around her waist, he helped her up and sat with her on the edge of the bed.

  She nodded. “I guess I still need to recover a little.” She didn’t loosen her hold on his shirt. Instead, she probed gently at their heartbond. A light tingle of magic crept through, a sense of his presence, but nothing more. Her mouth crinkled in displeasure. Of course. She’d blocked him from sensing her fear and grief during her illness. It was no surprise he’d learned the same trick. Her throat ached, and tears welled up in her eyes. With her body weakened, her emotions felt like fierce sandcats fighting to escape a flimsy basket. She had not the strength or will to keep them contained.

  Arynne hated losing control. Anger surged to the forefront, and her expression pinched peevishly. “Why did you bother to come back at all if you were just going to ... You’re right. You should go. This is stupid.” But somehow her fingers wouldn’t loosen their grip on him.

  I hate being in love. Love is a stupid idea. Tears dripped down her cheeks.

  “I came back to save you.” His body stiffened beneath her, a note of agony creeping into his tone. “I didn’t want to. I wanted you to forget me, to move on, to maybe learn to love Olyn ... but when I felt you slipping away through the heartbond—” His voice cracked. “Arynne, it ne
arly broke me.”

  Regret stirred within her, and she hung her head. “I can’t forget you, Kay. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so very very hard.” A sob shook her.

  Pathetic. She’d let herself fall prey to sentiment. If the ambitious, headstrong princess who had left Solea, determined to marry a stranger to better her position, saw what she’d become, she’d despise herself ... or worse, maybe, pity.

  “I’m such an idiot,” she wept.

  “No, you’re not, and as much as it’s tempting for me to say it, neither am I.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t know why this happened, but as much as I believe it has to end, I don’t regret it. You were my sun after a life spent in darkness. Because of you I experienced true light, true hope, and true love for the first time.” His fingers worked their way into her hair, and somehow she managed to look him in the eyes without losing what little remained of her composure. “You have given me so much, and ...” He exhaled, and fear seeped through the bond into her soul. He was frightened, far more than he was letting on.

  “Kay, what’s wrong?” She brushed her fingers through his beard, across his cheek, and up into his coal-black locks.

  He drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. His gaze pierced her, sending a shiver through her being. “Whatever happens from here on out, Arynne, I don’t regret loving you. I don’t regret returning to you, and while common sense screams at me to get away before my soul has a chance to twine itself around yours any further, my heart is shouting that if I let go of this chance, this last chance, to be with you, to feel you against me, that will be a far greater loss than any heartache that I might avoid by leaving.” He winced. “But that’s me. I’m a lost cause. There’s so little left for me in this world. You, however, you have a chance to have a good life, to fulfil your fate as the Sun Princess, and love a good man—”

  “I do love a good man.” She pressed her lips against his cheek. “I love the bravest, noblest, strongest man I’ve ever known, and no one will convince me otherwise.”

  For a moment they sat, posed a hair’s breadth apart. His heart pounded, and his emotions quivered within the heartbond, like a taut bowstring waiting for release. Then he moved forward. Their lips met, and the heartbond exploded in a torrent of emotions. Love, fear, hope, and despair intermingled into an overwhelming maelstrom. She couldn’t breathe, but somehow she also couldn’t let him go.

  Allowing herself to melt against him, she hung upon his neck. Their lips broke contact, but only for a moment. She returned to him with renewed passion. He traced his mouth across her cheek to her neck, and her spine arched from the pleasure racing through her. She grasped at his hair, pulling him closer. His hand strayed down her back.

  The bedroom door flew open, and Arynne yanked away with a cry of embarrassment. Kay’s eyes widened to rival a cat-owl’s.

  Sigid’s mouth dropped open. “Oh!”

  Heat raged beneath Arynne’s skin, but she held her head high and glared at her maid. “Knock next time.”

  “I would’ve if I’d ... oh, Princess Arynne, you’re finally awake.” The maid grinned, and Arynne found her annoyance fading.

  “She’s what?” Footsteps clamored across the room, and Clindt and Olyn both gaped over Sigid’s shoulder.

  Kay gave a muffled groan before releasing Arynne so he could stand. She gripped her skirts in her hand, trying not to sulk over the interrupted love making.

  Clindt crossed to her and placed his hand against her neck. “Your life color is red again—perhaps redder than I’ve ever seen it.” A relieved smile crossed his face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Weaker than I’d like.” She sighed. “Restless.” Another sensation, one she hadn’t given much thought to in the throes of passion, presented itself, a stiffness about her garments and grime about her skin. She winced. “I could use a bath.”

  “I’ll go draw the water!” Sigid rushed from the room.

  Kay shifted from foot to foot. “She collapsed when she tried to stand. I don’t think she should push herself just yet.”

  “Some muscle loss is to be expected after an extended illness.” Clindt nodded.

  “So we’re not telling Father that she’s well just yet?” Olyn frowned, his tone unexpectedly urgent.

  Clindt’s mouth wrinkled. “No. We’ll put that off as long as we’re able.” He offered Arynne his arm. “Come. I’ll help you to the bathing chamber.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time Arynne, leaning heavily on Clindt’s arm, limped her way into the stone-floored bathing-room, steam already wafted from the sunken tub. Sigid stood beside it, her smile wide enough to catch flies, as Clindt released Arynne, allowing her to carefully lower herself to the floor beside the tub.

  “I’ll leave you two ladies.” He bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

  “It’s so good to see you awake.” Sigid bounced over to the vanity table that held jars of cosmetics and toiletries, picked out a small jar, and returned to dump the contents into the water. Dark caramel and purple-red swirled outward from where the powder dissolved. A strangely familiar scent rose from it, slightly floral but with spicy undertones of cardamom, cinnamon, and honey.

  Arynne’s brow furrowed. She knew that fragrance but not in this context. “What did you put in the tub, Sigid?”

  “Oh!” The maid clapped her hands. “A few moonnotches ago, while you were still abed, a merchant stopped at the market near the palace. He had so many delightful herbs and fragrances. When he told me this blend was from Solea, I just had to get it for you.”

  Arynne bit back a snicker. The mention of Solea put the pieces together, and she knew where she’d smelled this particular aroma. Imagine what her countrymen would think of their princess bathing in the traditional mid-point tea.

  “That was quite thoughtful of you, Sigid,” she said instead.

  She tried to undress herself, but found her arms too sore to pull her garments over her head. Sigid came to her rescue, and soon Arynne basked in a tub of perfumed water. Her limbs floated peacefully in the hot liquid, easing away aches and pains she hadn’t even realized she had. Closing her eyes, she remembered what his kisses had felt like, and a smile flitted across her lips.

  “Do you want me to wash your hair for you?” Sigid volunteered.

  “Yes, please.” Arynne eased her body lower so that Sigid could douse her curls. With firm but gentle pressure, Sigid worked scented oils into Arynne’s scalp before combing out the length of it into a dark halo.

  Arynne allowed her mind to wander. She would like to get Kay alone again. According to Frorian tradition, a heartbond carried as much weight as a formal marriage, and while her bond with Kay had been accidental, it had survived long enough that she was ready to experience some of the benefits. Having herself properly primped and pristine before attempting to engage in such things would improve upon them significantly. It was just an issue of getting him alone and talking him out of his hesitancy.

  “I’m going to fetch you a fresh gown.” Sigid stood up. “You can stay submerged for as long as you like, of course, but when you’re ready to get out, there are drying cloths here.” She motioned towards a basket at the foot of the tub. “I can help you if you still feel weak.”

  “I think I’m getting better.” As soon as Sigid slipped from the room, Arynne emerged from the tub. She briskly rubbed the cloths over her body and hair, and by the time Sigid returned carrying Arynne’s favorite gown, the scarlet one with the tapered sleeves, she was ready to dress.

  This accomplished, Arynne sat on the bench in front of the vanity and gazed at herself in the mirror. Some lip paint, a splash of crimson against her dark skin, might finish the look.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Sigid hovered over her shoulder.

  Mischief quirked Arynne’s mouth. “Do you think you can find a way to get rid of Olyn and Clindt for me? From what I understand, Kajik is only allowed back in the palace until I’m well again, and I’d l
ike some time alone before his banishment goes into effect once more.”

  Sigid’s face, reflected in the mirror, went white. She grasped her braided hair, her throat rippling as she swallowed. “He didn’t tell you ...”

  Cold fingers clawed at Arynne’s heart. “Tell me what?”

  Sigid’s gaze dropped to her feet. “He’s not leaving when you’re better. His father didn’t lift the banishment. Prince Kajik broke his life oath to return to you. Clindt bought him some time by telling the king that if the prince died while you were in your weakened state, the shock through the heartbond would probably kill you, but he’s made it clear that as soon as you’re well enough—” Sigid choked on her own words.

  Arynne’s strength fled from her body like ice melting in a blast of flame. She should’ve known the old camel-head wouldn’t have been reasonable. “Why hasn’t he run?”

  “For one thing, the king warded the royal wing against traveling—in or out—and he’s had guards outside your chambers constantly to be certain the prince doesn’t escape. For another—” Sigid sighed. “I think he’s accepted his fate and just wants to spend as much time with you as possible before the end. He’s barely left your side since he returned. At first, it was because the heartbond was helping you fight the sickness, but after a bit, he was clinging to you like a man clings to the edge of the ice for fear of drowning.”

  Arynne’s hands shook, and she gripped the vanity table. “I won’t let him die. I can’t lose him. Not now.”

  “I don’t want him to die either.” Sigid wrung her hands. “Whatever I’ve said about him in the past, the poor dear has proven me wrong. He has been so brave and selfless through all this. He deserves so much better.”

  “I could’ve told you that mooncycles ago.” A tear trickled down Arynne’s cheek. “We have to do something.”

  “I’ve heard Lord Clindt and Prince Olyn whispering about it when they think I’m not listening.” Sigid sat on the end of the bench beside Arynne. “Olyn’s been trying to convince his father to show mercy.”