by H. L. Burke
Guilt clutched Kay by the throat. In his exuberance over potentially living longer than a few moonnotches, he’d forgotten how much of a risk Clindt, Sigid, and even Olyn were taking on his behalf. How could he have been so selfish?
“No, you’re right.” He hung his head. “This isn’t your fight. In fact, it would make me more comfortable if you left now.”
“I can’t do that. Not entirely anyway. If I stop attending to Arynne at regular intervals, your father will catch on that she’s gotten better, and then our time will be up.” Clindt leaned back in his chair. “And I find that an acceptable risk. I can play the fool when the time comes, pretend Arynne pulled one over on me and made me think she was weaker than she actually was. However, drugging wardens and facilitating an escape of a man convicted to death are things Uncle Evyd could easily convince his council are worthy of, if not death, at least banishment or imprisonment. I need to see to my family first. I need to be certain they’re going to be all right.”
“I can take care of the drugging!” Sigid volunteered.
Kay winced. “I don’t want you taking that risk either.”
“It’s not much of one for me.” She shrugged. “Unlike Clindt, I can easily get a hold of those items without getting caught. There’s a stash of herbs and extracts at the same apothecary shop where I get Princess Arynne’s cosmetics, hair oils, and bathing powders. The man working there is half-blind with age. I can easily slip some of what you need into an apron pocket when he’s not looking, and no one will be the wiser. Also—” Her gaze shifted to Olyn. “If there is room for one more in your little band of fugitives, I’ve never stepped foot outside the light of the Starspire, and I wouldn’t mind seeing this ‘sun’ people keep talking about.”
A quiver of doubt crept through the heartbond. Kay rubbed Arynne between the shoulder. Arynne’s first handmaiden, Elfrida, had died on their trip into Frorheim, a loss she’d felt deeply.
“We’ll do everything in our power to keep her safe,” he whispered. “You don’t need to worry.”
Arynne rested her head on his shoulder. “I just don’t want anyone else to die under my watch.”
A shadow fell over the room as the light filtering in from the single window suddenly darkened to a pale glow like moonlight over snow. Sol stretched on his mistress’s lap before spreading his wings and launching himself into the air. He landed on his perch to stare at the window.
Clindt blinked several times then stood. “It’s the dimming already?” He scratched at his beard. “If you won’t need me for a while, I would like to slip away to see my family for a few hours, maybe spend the dimming lying next to my wife for a change.” A tired smile flitted across his face. “I won’t stay away for too long. We can’t let on that Arynne is feeling better yet.”
“I can spread rumors among the servants that she’s still doing poorly,” Sigid volunteered. She likewise stood. “I want to see if I can find Crede and get things started for our supplies.”
“I should ‘update’ Father as well, make sure he thinks Arynne’s too weak for him to risk harming Kay for the time being.” Olyn got to his feet. “The guards are still at the door. Arynne should hide in the bedchamber before we go out, in case one of them peeks in.”
Kay’s stomach twisted, and he whispered. “Do you think there’s any chance they can hear us?”
Sigid shook her head. “No. I’ve tested the walls. They’re sound proof for all but shouting—so you and the princess keep it down, if you know what I mean.” She gave a wink.
Arynne choked, and the back of Kay’s neck warmed. He stood, helping her to her feet. She still wobbled, which made him nervous. The journey they were planning would be arduous. What if it proved too much and she got sick again? He glanced at Olyn. “Are you leaving too?”
“I should, but I wouldn’t mind a moment to speak with you alone first,” Olyn replied. “Once you’ve got Arynne settled.”
“I can ‘settle’ myself.” Arynne wrinkled her nose at him. “If I have to hide in a bedroom for the good of the mission, I’ll grit my teeth and bear it, but don’t make me out to be an invalid in the meantime.” Head held high, she glided from the sitting area into her bedroom. Kay grinned as she left. She was something else.
“I’ll be back in the brightening with breakfast for you both.” Sigid gave another wink before hurrying from the room, Clindt following after a brief farewell.
Kay rubbed the back of his neck, anxious for some reason.
Olyn grasped his shoulder. “I’ll be right down the hall. I know you can’t walk the palace freely, but I’ll make sure to let the guards know that if you ask for me, they should fetch me. Get some rest, and if she’ll let you, make sure Arynne does the same. I can already see her pushing herself, but remember what she went through. She needs to take as much time as she can to recover and strengthen herself.”
“Of course.” Kay nodded. “Sleep will do the both of us good.” He glanced at the bedroom door. Even with her unconscious, he’d savored lying next to her for the last several moonnotches. It had been practical, of course, his warmth and magic being necessary to sustain her during her illness, but he couldn’t deny there had also been some pleasure in it. Still, she didn’t need him in that way anymore. “I’ll bed down here.” He motioned with his head towards the couch.
Olyn arched an eyebrow. “I think Arynne will be disappointed if that’s your plan.”
Heat blossomed in Kay’s cheeks. “We’re not married, and even if that’s the eventual goal if this all works out—”
“Nonsense,” Olyn said. “Kay, you may not have had an official wedding, but you’re heartbonded. By every tradition in Frorheim, that’s a marriage.”
Kay swallowed. As much as he wanted to believe it, to call Arynne his own lawfully and fully, it didn’t feel real. A life of being unwanted, of being told he was destined to be alone, to never have a bride for fear of endangering his family’s sacred royal line, nagged at his hope. He wasn’t good enough for Arynne. Their time together, while sweet, wasn’t something he deserved, and was therefore something he couldn’t hope to keep. What if their escape failed and his father made good his threat to end Kay’s life? How could he lie with her knowing that it could all end, that he could leave her alone, that he wouldn’t be able to be there for her?
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he whispered.
Olyn pulled him closer. “Kay, you know I would be the first one to tell you to be cautious, to take care with her heart as well as your own, but I’ve seen how Arynne looks at you. She wants you as much as you want her. You deserve this, no matter what nonsense you’re telling yourself. You deserve happiness. Let yourself have it.” With that, Olyn released Kay, patted him on the back, and left.
Kay let out a long breath. Well, whatever he did, he at least wanted to bid her a good rest. He strode to her door and tapped his knuckles on the wood paneling.
“Come in.” A hint of merriment flavored her tone, and a pleasant shiver cut down his spine. It was going to be hard to make this decision logically. Head down for fear of looking her in the eye, he entered the room. In the middle of the floor, right where his gaze fell, a scarlet dress lay draped across the snowbear-skin rug. His head jerked up immediately.
Arynne sat on the edge of the bed clad only in a light shift so thin he could see the warm brown tones of her skin through the gauzy white cloth.
She smiled at him, though uncertainty tainted her eyes. “I was worried you weren’t coming for a moment.” She gave a quavering laugh.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I almost didn’t.” Somehow he managed to hold her gaze. “Arynne, I love you, and I want this plan of yours to work, but there’s still so much that could go wrong.”
“And a lot that could go very right.” She rose and came to him, draping her arms around his neck. His pulse pounded painfully. Love rushed through their heartbond like a river at flood, threatening to sweep away the last of his resistance.
Kay closed his
eyes and tried to think of anything other than her body pressed against his or the sweet, spicy fragrance rising from her dark curls.
“Kay, I know there’s a dangerous path before us, but even thinking of the worst case scenario, if we can’t make it out of the palace—or even if we do but something happens to us along the road—this is what I want.” Her breath tickled his ear. “I want you. Forever and always, but especially now, especially here. I’ve denied myself hope for too long. I need this, and from what I feel bleeding through the heartbond, so do you.” Her hands strayed from his neck onto his chest. His heart threatened to hammer its way out of his ribcage. “If everything ends in the brightening, at least I would’ve had this one dimming with you.” She ran her lips down his cheek, pausing at the corner of his mouth.
His will to fight disintegrated, and he pressed his lips into hers. One hand gripping her lower back, the other tangled in her hair, he drew her against himself, desperate to eliminate any distance between them. Her breath caught, and a spike of desire shot through the heartbond, weakening his knees but strengthening his confidence. He swept her off her feet, somehow managing to stumble the remaining steps to her bed before collapsing beside her.
They kissed again and again, his lips caressing her face, neck, and shoulders. She yielded to him but somehow still guided him, and together they lost themselves in absolute bliss. For the first time in his life, Kay felt only joy.
Chapter Seventeen
Arynne had almost forgotten what it felt like to be truly warm. Not just comfortable or to feel heat against her skin, but to have the pleasant glow throughout her being, down to her core. Her magic flickered within her like a crackling fire, and the heartbond connecting her with Kay hummed with a constant but subtle power. She lay, eyes closed, but heart open, conscious of his arms around her, of the weight and softness of the blankets swaddling her, and of the love seeping into her from their connection.
She sighed contentedly.
The mattress shifted as Kay rose up on one elbow beside her and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “You’re awake?”
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. His lips whispered across her forehead before settling on her cheek.
“I guess I am.” She ran her fingers playfully through his beard. “It sort of feels like I’m still dreaming.”
He laughed and pulled her against his body. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the gentle thrum of his heart.
The light filtering about the room already heralded the brightening. Their dimming together was over, though she hoped it would be the first of many. Kay continued to kiss her on the neck and shoulders. She considered responding but felt happily lazy, content to receive his affection.
“We have a lot to do over the next few moonnotches,” she murmured.
“Not us so much.” He snorted. “You need to stay in bed so my father doesn’t catch on that you’re better.” He eased her onto her back and leaned over her, grinning. “And I need to keep you company.”
Arynne gave a delighted squeal as he fell upon her with a furious attack of kissing and tickling. Drawing enough magic into her fingertips to spark without scorching, she teased him with the heat, running her hot fingers across his shoulders and chest.
“Hey!” He caught her by the wrists. “No fair using magic.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “Fair has no place in the marriage bed. It is one place where every advantage should be the lady’s.”
His smile curled into a mischievous smirk. “I’ll agree to that. So what does my lady require of me?”
Arynne stroked his raven locks. “Well—”
A knock on the door elicited a groan from each of them.
“Who is it?” Kay called.
“Sorry, Prince Kajik, but I brought up breakfast for both of you—it can wait, but I worried it would be cold.”
Arynne’s traitorous stomach growled before she could lie about not really being hungry for anything that wasn’t Kay.
“I’ll get it.” He scrambled out of bed and fished on the floor for his garments. He pulled on his trousers and tossed Arynne her shift before picking up his shirt and heading towards the door. Arynne pulled on her garment as he opened the door.
“Thank you, Sigid,” Kay said.
Impish smile on her face, the maid handed him a tray. “I figured the two of you might’ve worked up an appetite if you know what—”
“We all know what you mean.” Arynne snorted.
Sigid set up a small folding table next to the bed, winked at Arynne, and left.
Laughing quietly, Kay placed the tray on the table then took the cloth from the top of a steaming basket of honey-gold rolls. There was also an earthen bowl of porridge, and a bright purple winter plum cut into sections. He clicked his tongue. “Not exactly a full spread.”
“She was probably afraid if she brought up enough for two they’d catch on that I was better.” Arynne popped a slice of fruit into her mouth. Sweet, tangy juice spread over her tongue, and she smiled. “It’ll be enough.”
They ate in silence for a short while. After he’d devoured a couple of rolls, however, Kay paused and sat, staring into space. Arynne continued nibbling on fruit but watched him out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ve been thinking about your plan,” Kay finally said.
She paused mid-chew. “What about it?”
He sighed. “We can’t come back to Frorheim—me and you, I mean. Olyn has to return eventually, once he’s found his own Sun Princess, but even if there was a guarantee that Father would pardon me, we can’t.” His shoulders slumped. “Father believes that the starcasting magic should only continue through the royal line of ascension. It’s why he never wanted me to be born, let alone marry to have my own sons that could threaten the kingdom by being potential alternate leaders.”
She nodded slowly. “And you want to have a family with me?”
“I mean, if last dimming is any indication, children are inevitable.” He gave an uncertain laugh. “Do you want children?”
She swallowed the last few particles of fruit left in her mouth. “I really haven’t given it much thought. When I believed I would be marrying Olyn and have the responsibility of producing an heir, I’d accepted it, but I hadn’t really considered if I wanted it.” Something fluttered within her. Would she even be a good mother? She could only vaguely remember her own mother—quiet songs, gentle fingers twisting her hair into braids, warm arms rocking her to sleep ... images and feelings more than anything else. She wouldn’t mind a chance to feel what it was like to have her own child, to try and give that love back to someone. Also, she wouldn’t mind seeing what a combination of herself and Kay looked like. “I think I do, but you’re right. Your father won’t stand for it. We’d need to keep away from him. Are you all right with that? With never seeing Frorheim again?”
“Frorheim is just a place, and a cold and sometimes miserable place at that.” Kay shrugged. “It’s Olyn I’ll miss. I know he has to return, the kingdom depends on him, but to never see him again?” Pain pinched his face.
Arynne squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe when your father dies and Olyn is king, things will be different.”
Kay snorted. “I suppose I should feel like a horrible human being, looking forward to the death of my own father, but considering how eager he is to kill me, I can’t bring myself to care.”
A shudder cut through her. The sooner they got out of Frorheim the better. They finished eating, emptying the containers except for a single roll that they both pushed at the other for a while before Arynne rolled her eyes and got up.
“Clindt should be arriving soon.” She crossed to her wardrobe and selected a lavender dress.
Kay finally relented and picked up the last roll. He devoured half of it in a single bite then paused to watch appreciatively as she doffed her sleeping clothes. Arynne’s mouth quirked into a mischievous smile, and she took her time dressing, moving in a slow, deliberate manner, hitching up her
stockings, settling her shift into place before easing her dress over her head.
“Hold up.” Kay’s hand rested on her upper arm. She jumped, not having heard him move closer. He placed his arm around her waist and kissed her, his body pressing her against the side of the wardrobe. He toyed with the laces at her collar as their lips parted.
“I just put this on.” She clicked her tongue at him.
“Masterfully. In fact, I think you should take it off and do it again, just so I can admire your technique.” He winked.
Heat filled her chest, desire, yes, but also relief and joy. It was good to see hope and happiness in Kay’s eyes again. She ran her fingers into his hair and drew him in for another kiss.
Something crashed in the room beyond. Kay’s hold on her tightened painfully.
“What are you doing?” Sigid shrieked, her voice piercing the walls. “This is a sick room! You can’t just come—”
“Out of the way, girl!”
Evyd!
Fear, sharp and venomous as a wasp’s sting, stabbed into Arynne from the heartbond. Kay’s pulse pounded in her ears, chasing away awareness of her own terror.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, before releasing her.
“She’s still sick!” Sigid protested. Arynne dove for the bed. She had to get beneath the covers and make herself look deathly ill. It was their only chance.
The door flew open before she’d taken two steps. Evyd gave a cry of rage, staring at her then turning to glare at Kay. “Grab him!”
Two wardens rushed into the room.
“No!” Arynne screamed, her magic sparking to her hands. She wouldn’t let them take Kay without a fight.