by Linda Kage
Throwing her arm around Nicolette’s shoulders, Mydera walked off with her, steering her in the direction of their main caravan. “Let me tell you about some of my finer creations.” As she passed them, she snapped her fingers at her two pages. “Spice! Wicket! Get their things, will you? Set them up with us for the night.”
Then she strolled off with my princess.
Feeling a tug at my hand, I looked down to find the boy, Bewler, panting up at me happily, his tongue lolling. He silently urged me to follow the women with him.
With a reluctant sigh, I gave in and let him lead me along, feeling very uneasy the entire time.
18
Nicolette
“It was my very own ancestor who applied the first mark of Elaina L’Amante,” Mydera explained in her deep, carrying voice. “So the story’s been carried down through the generations until I heard it every night as a lullaby when I was young.”
I nodded, eager to hear more, as I popped a fresh piece of fruit into my mouth.
But, mmm, fruit. After endless days of the tasteless bread-like rations Farrow had been feeding me, I gorged on the meal the mages had provided us with. And now, my stomach was full to capacity, yet I just kept stuffing more in.
Next to me, Farrow sat close on the same log, his thigh pressed against mine the entire time. I knew he wasn’t a fan of this detour we were taking, but he endured because he knew I needed the break. And that made me treasure him even more.
“Elaina L’Amante was the first queen of High Cliff,” Mydera was saying. “She was presented to King Grothier, I believe his name was—Awgust Grothier—as a gift from the kingdom of Tipton for their assistance in a great flood that came over them. Elaina was a striking young beauty, and the king was immediately beguiled by her comely charms. He promised her any kind of riches or gift her heart desired. But Elaina merely wanted to feel love for her husband in return, so the king brought in a curse maker who tattooed the first mark as we know it today into her temple.”
“Curse maker?” I repeated with a stumped blink. My fingers trailed hesitantly to my tattoo. “So these are actually—what—curses?”
Mydera tsked and shook her head. “The true meaning of the curse has lost its value over the years, I’m afraid. The original curses were meant to seek truth and justice. Over time, however, I fear vengeance and punishment has overshadowed their more positive aspects. No one remembers that curses don’t have to bring a blight upon anyone; they can also be used to reveal fact in their purest form. And while the mark on Elaina L’Amante was meant to make her fall in love with King Grothier, it ended up revealing who her true soul mate was instead, which sadly, was not him.”
My lips parted. “Do you know who her true love was?”
“Of course, child. It was a knight in Grothier’s own army, a mere foot soldier by the name of Ender Bjorn.”
“Bjorn!” I gasped, covering my mouth with both hands. Both Allera and Urban were from House Bjorn.
Mydera chuckled, amused by my shock. “You know it. After Elaina received the mark and she realized Bjorn was her true mate, she began to meet with him in secret until the two devised a plan for Bjorn to overthrow Grothier and take the kingdom for himself. Once her true love was seated on the throne, Elaina made the proclamation that all High Clifters must receive her mark upon their temples at birth.”
“Oh my goodness,” I breathed. “I had no idea that was how Urban and Allera’s ancestors claimed the throne of High Cliff.” I glanced toward Farrow, a worried pucker crinkling my brow. “It’s just so deceitful.”
He set his hand on my knee and squeezed sympathetically, while Mydera said, “The claiming of a crown rarely comes from pure, honest work, my dear.”
I guess she had a point. My own brothers had become kings only after their predecessors had been murdered first.
“Well, that’s just depressing,” I mumbled.
When Farrow stroked my knee as if to soothe me, I smiled at him gratefully and placed my hand over his.
Mydera watched us curiously before she said, “So you have a mate who’s resisting his destiny with you, hmm?”
Farrow immediately removed his hand, as if suddenly realizing he’d been touching me.
I frowned at Mydera for causing him to return to his senses, but then I shrugged.
“It’s not so awful. I find wooing him a delightful and rewarding challenge.” I arched a look his way. “Though he is definitely a tenacious one. I couldn’t even sway his mind after patching him back together with true love’s kiss when he received an arrow wound just this morning.”
“What’s this I hear?” Mydera lifted her brows with interest. “An arrow wound? Are there mad archers in the vicinity?”
“Not any longer,” Farrow answered, smiling slightly at me as if remembering how we’d teamed up to defeat our attackers. “But yes.” He glanced at Mydera. “There were five border radicals.”
“Were?” She gave a low, impressed whistle. “And you defeated them? One against five? My, my. I’m impressed.”
Farrow smirked. “Your math is off, mage. It was two against five.”
The proud smirk he sent me made my insides melt.
Mydera cocked her head slowly as she watched us. “And yet he still denies you after that? Why, you poor child, you. You trust old Mydera now, you hear. If you want your mate in your bed, I can spell him to—”
“Or you could stay out of our private affairs,” Farrow cut in, narrowing his eyes at her.
She sniffed and pulled herself up tight, but relented with a moody nod, muttering, “Fine. Suit yourself. But it’s just not right to deny your destined partner physical companionship when you’re perfectly capable of giving it. You remember that, boy. Fate always wins. Like a little toddler, it doesn’t mind throwing a bloody fit to get what it wants, either. So you might as well give in now before causing a catastrophe for all of us.”
His gaze hardened and mouth opened to retort with something I knew would be unpleasant, so I touched his arm lightly, and he immediately cooled his temper, closing his mouth again.
I motioned respectfully toward Mydera. “Thank you for the offer. It’s very kind of you. But no. I have faith I’ll get him to come around to seeing things my way soon enough. And if it eases him to feel as if he has control over his own destiny, then I can give him that.”
Farrow leaned toward me and spoke for my ears alone. “You should pray that I do have control over my own destiny, princess. Things would end better for both of us if I did.”
I looked at him as he pulled away. Experiencing that eerie feeling that he was warning me of something, I knit my brow and tried to figure his words out. He sounded as if he were aware of the fact that he knew he wasn’t in control of his own actions, but then something told me he wasn’t talking about my love mark, either. Something else was driving his hand.
I didn’t like that thought. No one forced my mate to do anything he didn’t want to. I wanted to demand to know who thought they could put a leash around my partner and manipulate him to their will.
But here in the company of the mages was neither the time nor the place for such questions.
I was confident I’d figure out Farrow’s problems later.
And fix them.
We stayed with the mages for the rest of the day. The caravan was so huge, they even had traveling hammocks tethered between a pair of elephants so they could take shifts, some napping while everyone else nudged the convoy along.
Farrow and I rested a couple hours before we helped with the slug-like procession. We probably would’ve been able to cover twice—if not three times—the distance if we’d simply parted ways with the mages and gone off on our own, but he spoiled me by letting us remain.
I tried not to feel guilty about that. We had to get to his ailing mother with the utmost speed, but I honestly wasn’t sure how I could’ve pushed myself with the same endurance we’d used in the desert. I was just plum worn out. And I think Farrow realized that, so he took
pity on me. And I definitely didn’t press for any more time than one night.
When night came and the fleet finally slowed to a halt, I collapsed onto a fallen log and sat numbly, watching from bleary eyes as others worked preparing camp. Someone even had pity and built a campfire in front of me. I murmured a grateful thanks and held out my hands toward the blazing warmth.
After a time, Farrow found me and handed me a plate of food, more juicy morsels that made my mouth water the moment I smelled it. He sat next to me on the log, and we ate together as more campfires popped up around us. Then laughter, talking, music, and dancing ensued.
It didn’t take me long to realize a majority of the mages spoke in a language I’d never heard before. It sounded fascinating.
Leaning toward Farrow, I asked, “Have you any idea what they’re saying?”
“Not a word,” he admitted. “But they’re quite a boisterous, close-knit community, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Grinning, I began to tap my knee to the music. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Responding with a noncommittal grunt, Farrow crossed his arms over his chest and remained unmoved. When I started clapping along to a particularly catchy tune, Spice—the female page of Mydera’s who’d been going through our satchels earlier—appeared in front of me and reached for my hand, inviting me to join the fun.
After the breather I’d just taken, I felt regenerated enough to get up again, so I didn’t decline. Pushing to my feet, I stumbled after Spice as she dragged me off toward a line of dancing women who were snaking their way throughout the camp.
I glanced back to check on Farrow and found him watching me, his eyes gleaming in the firelight while I tried to mimic Spice, lifting my hands over my head, shuffling my feet along, and gyrating my hips to the rhythm.
When I finally got the hang of it, I threw my head back and laughed, loving the freedom I felt in expressing myself this way. Someone came along and set a wreath on my head and a beaded necklace around my neck, and someone else handed me a large cup full of spiced ale.
Drinking and dancing, I threw myself into the revelry, letting the energy of the night flow through my bloodstream. At one point, I caught sight of Mydera. She had her male servant, Wicket, backed into a tree, and her hand was buried in the front of his trousers. He seemed to enjoy her ministrations, for he’d closed his eyes and tossed his head back, his mouth gaping open as he arched his hips into her palm.
Catching me ogling them, Mydera sent me a sly wink and did something that caused his eyes to flare open as his shoulders curled forward so he could tighten his entire body around the pleasure.
I whirled away, embarrassed for having witnessed such an intimate moment, and then for getting caught. But as I rushed off, my body warmed, wanting to experience some of the same ecstasy Wicket was. And only one man would suffice in giving it to me.
By the time I wound my way back to where Farrow still sat in front of the fire, solemnly watching the others, my joints felt loose and slippery and my head completely muzzy.
I wanted him with an intensity that scorched my insides.
“Farrow!” I called, pleased to see him, no matter how hard he scowled back.
Wanting to make him smile, I collapsed onto his lap, looped my arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek with a loud, wet smack. He immediately clutched my waist—probably to steady me because I began to spill off one of his knees, though it felt suspiciously like an affectionate snuggle to me—and I gazed into his eyes as I stroked his jaw.
“Hello, handsome,” I greeted saucily. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
He nodded once. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, princess. Hit the mage ale hard, did you?”
“Yes,” I had to admit, only to giggle when it caused me to hiccup. I slapped a hand over my mouth and added a muffled, “It’s amazing. You should try it.”
I offered him a sip.
His eyes went briefly sad before he shook his head. “Not tonight.”
“Oh, Farrow.” Setting the drink aside, I leaned my brow against his and cupped his face in my hands. “How can you look so solemn on a night like this? It nearly breaks my heart.”
He pressed back against me as if seeking my comfort and let his eyes slide shut. As his grip on my hip tightened, he finally sighed. “When I return home and complete my mission, saving the one I love, then I’ll celebrate.”
Shit. Suddenly feeling terrible for running off and having fun while he’d sat here, worried about his mother, I hugged him tight. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” I stroked his arm and made an encouraging sound when he dipped his face down toward the crook of my neck and rested against me, accepting my comfort.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t make it.”
“She will,” I promised. “We’ll arrive on time. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
A tremor went through him. He lifted his face and studied me with the most peculiar expression. Then he threw me for a loop when he said, “No. You’ll do nothing that puts your own life at risk.” His hand on my hip went taut before he jostled me gently. “Promise me, Nicolette. You must remain safe at all times.”
I blinked in confusion. “Farrow, where is this coming from? Relax, my love. I hardly think crying into a cauldron to help a potion brewer save your mother will put me at risk.”
His throat worked as he swallowed, but then he gave a slight tilt of the head. “You’re right. Forgive me. I was letting my anxieties take over. I just—”
“Shh.” I set a finger over his lips to quiet him. “I know what you need.” The man needed sleep. Slipping off his lap, I held a hand down to him. “Let’s retire for the night.”
“No. No.” Ignoring my fingers, he stood as if to escape me. “You should stay. You’re having fun.”
But I forcefully grabbed his wrist. “I’ll be happier if I’m with you. We retire together.” When he hesitated, I looked him straight in the eye. “I go where you go.”
His hand squeezed around mine, and he gave a silent nod.
So I led him through the trees and tents until we found Caramel and Mint and our tent that the mages had moved into their circle of protection. When Farrow opened the flap for me, I ducked inside, and he followed without a word. Under the leather roof, I found that the mages had already laid out our bedrolls side by side.
With a sigh of delight that everything was already prepared, I slid off my wrist guards and hairpin, then removed my necklace along with the wreath and beads the mages had given me. Glancing toward Farrow, who watched me intently, I began to braid my hair for sleep. “These people must really want that flagon of yours,” I said. “They’re buttering us up quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“Aye,” he agreed quietly.
I expected him to add something like, but they won’t get it, so when he said nothing else, merely ran his hand over my braid as I tied it into place, I furrowed my brow.
Tossing down my jewelry, I approached. “Farrow, talk to me.”
When I reached for him, he reached back, automatically pressing his forehead to mine before I could even begin to offer comfort. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said with such feeling that I reared back to examine his face. His eyes were fierce and tormented.
I kissed his cheek. “Relax, darling. I know I abhor handling anything magical, but I swear, the mages haven’t asked me to touch a single enchanted item all day.”
“No.” He paused as if frustrated. “I wasn’t talking about here with the mages. I was talking about Far Shore altogether. You shouldn’t be here in this kingdom. You shouldn’t be here with me. You should be safe and sound, back in Donnelly. With your family.”
“I am with my family,” I argued, squinting at him. “I’m with you, my partner in all things. I’m right where I want to—”
“No!” he growled, tearing himself away. “God, how can you be so naïve and innocent? One moment, you’re pure royalty, settling the friction between Mydera and me
as if you were born to rule and keep peace. And then the next, you’re making these rash, thoughtless decisions, and they’re going to get you hurt. You are going to get hurt.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he boomed. “You’re not safe in Far Shore. You need to return home to Donnelly.”
“What?! No,” I snarled. “Not until you stop talking these vague circles around me and tell me what’s really going on here. Why are you saying all this?”
“I…” He swiped a hand over his face and let out a dry sound of pain. “I wouldn’t like it if you were harmed, that’s all. Watching you dance tonight, seeing you laugh and enjoy life—I…” He shook his head firmly. “That’s how you should always be.”
My lips parted. “My God. You’ve grown feelings for me, haven’t you?”
His eyes flared with anger. For some reason, I hadn’t been able to read his emotions for days, but I swear I detected some fear in his features now. “Listen here, princess,” he snarled, pointing at my nose. “You are going back home tomorrow.”
“And what about your mother?” I countered, not about to back down under his stern tone.
His gaze flared with a stark reaction I couldn’t name. “I’ll speak to Mydera in the morning,” he insisted. “And if she can give me something to cure my mother, I’ll trade her for the flagon, and then you’ll return to Donnelly with them.” Breathing hard, he arched his eyebrows. “Is that understood?”
“No.” I stepped up to him, right into his face. “I go where you go unless you can look me in the eye and tell me why you don’t want me with you.”
Teeth clenching together, he glared at me, his entire frame shaking before he rasped, “I don’t…”
But that’s as far as he got. He gave his head a slight shake as if to jostle the words from his tongue, yet they refused to come.
“You don’t what?” I taunted.
The man wanted to throttle me. It was written as clear as day on his expression. But all he muttered was, “I can’t sleep in here with you. Be ready to leave with the mages first thing in the morning.” And he turned tail, fleeing into the night.