by C. L. Wilson
Summer sat up so abruptly that Lily broke off reading in midsentence.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” the girl apologized in a mortified whisper. “I know I read some of that wrong, but I just don’t know all these big words.”
“What?” Realizing that Lily thought Summer’s abrupt movement was a show of irritation, Gabriella hurried to reassure the girl. “Oh, no, Lily, you’re doing splendidly. I’m so proud of the incredible progress you’ve made. I’m just finding it difficult to concentrate today. Instead of reading today, why don’t we just chat instead?”
Lily blushed and ducked her head. “Er . . . all right, Your Highness, if that’s what you wish. Though I’m not sure what you’d like to talk about.”
“Well, you can tell me what you and Talin have got planned today.” Lily and the young Calbernan she’d met had been seeing quite a lot of each other ever since the plaza dance.
“We’re going sailing down the fjord . . . and taking a picnic out to the point.” Lily smoothed her hands over the sleek, polished linen of her gown. Gone were Lily’s simple, threadbare country clothes. Once Gabriella had regained consciousness, she’d insisted on having Lily as her companion for the duration of her convalescence and had seen to it that Lily received a complete new wardrobe of gowns fashioned from fine, beautiful fabrics that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the daughter of any well-to-do merchant or gentleman. She’d kept the styles of her dresses simple, but the fabrics, though sturdy enough, were top rate.
Gabriella’s gesture wasn’t just generosity (or a not-so-subtle attempt on the matchmaking front). She honestly liked the girl. She liked her spirit and the courage she’d shown trying to make a better life for herself and her baby. Having felt the wrath of Lily’s father firsthand, Summer had an even greater respect for the young woman’s resilience. So keeping Lily close, continuing to encourage her reading and self-improvement, was the best way Gabriella could think of to help Lily achieve her aims.
But also, spending her waking hours teaching Lily to read gave her something to occupy her mind. Something other than the constant thoughts of Dilys Merimydion that had been haunting her ever since she’d awakened after the attack.
“That sounds delightful,” Summer said to Lily. “I’ve never been sailing. Mama was afraid of the water.” It had always struck Gabriella as ironic that the princess of a seafaring kingdom was so afraid of the sea. The few times their family had ventured to the coasts of Summerlea, Mama had steadfastly refused to visit the beach.
“Hello, dearest Gabriella. How are you feeling today?” Dressed in bright, sunny yellow, Autumn ran lightly down the terrace steps, carrying a beautiful arrangement of cut flowers. “Here. These are for you. And here’s the note.” She thrust the flowers into Summer’s hands, and turned to smile coolly at Lily. “Hello, Lily. Heading off to see your young man, are you?”
Surprise tinged with wariness flashed across Lily’s face and were quickly hidden as she bowed her head and bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for asking.”
“Oh, don’t thank her,” Gabriella said. She set aside the note without a glance and laid the flowers on top. “She’s just keeping up with palace gossip. Aren’t you, Autumn?”
Autumn arched a brow. “Well, clearly you’re getting better. You’ve entered the cranky stage of healing.”
Gabriella flushed, immediately consumed with well-deserved guilt. “Sorry.”
Autumn smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, brilliant and beautiful. “Not to worry. I forgive you. I am unbelievably saint-like, that way.” She plopped down on the chair Lily had vacated and reached for the book Lily had left on the table. “Roland Triumphant?” She laughed. “Of course, that would be Khamsin’s reading primer of choice, wouldn’t it?”
“Of course.” Roland Soldeus was Summerlea’s most famous historical figure—and the demigod ancestor from whom the Summerlea royal family descended. “She’s determined to correct the shocking lack of hero worship for him throughout Wintercraig—one new reader at a time.”
“How deliciously subversive of her.” Setting the book back down, she directed the power of her smile in Lily’s direction and said, “Have a wonderful time today, Lily.”
Clearly dismissed, Lily glanced uncertainly in Gabriella’s direction for confirmation, then bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried away.
“I wish you wouldn’t play princess with her,” Gabriella chided when she was gone. “She’s a sweet girl.”
“Who got you nearly killed.”
“Not her fault. If you’d seen her scars . . .”
“I heard all about them.” Autumn rolled her eyes at Gabriella’s surprise. “Hello? Seamstresses. They talk. Besides, I wasn’t playing princess. I was hurrying her along out of the kindness of my heart and a perverse new compulsion to play matchmaker. Her young man is downstairs wearing a hole in the stone with all his impatient pacing. Aren’t you going to read your note?”
Gabriella glanced at the edge of the folded, sealed envelope peeping out from beneath the discarded flower arrangement. “No.”
“You can hide out here until doomsday, but it won’t do any good. He isn’t going away.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I just do not believe this,” Autumn muttered. “For the first time in my life, there’s a man I’m actually interested in. Young, gorgeous, wealthy, a prince, not a conceited ass, and—did I mention?—gorgeous. In short, everything a woman could hope for. And who does he want? You! I could be moldy bread for all the interest he has in me. Isn’t that just a slap in the face?”
“Precisely why I should stay away from him. He had plenty of interest in you before. He will again.”
“Oh, no. Don’t even use me as your excuse. The Princess Autumn of Calberna ship has sailed. It will never be. The same with Spring. He made that crystal clear even before you were attacked—in the kindest possible way, of course.” She shook her head. “Look, Gabriella, I understand that what he did to that awful man who hurt you must have been horrifying to witness, but in my opinion, he deserves a medal for it. That brute deserved to be eviscerated. If I’d been there, I would have burned him alive.”
Gabriella’s lashes came down to cover her eyes. When she’d awakened after her attack, she’d learned that Dilys Merimydion and his men had claimed responsibility for the slaying of Lily’s father. And she’d let him, not wanting her sisters to regard her with the same fear she’d seen in her parents’ eyes the first time she’d murdered someone with her magic.
As to why Dilys Merimydion had proclaimed himself the killer, she didn’t know. At first, she’d thought he’d done it to elevate himself in the eyes of Autumn and Spring—after all, it would only be natural for them to think even more kindly of the man who’d saved their sister from certain death. But then she’d learned he’d already ended his courtship of them and made clear his plan to court her instead.
“Dilys is a good man,” Autumn continued.
“Oh, so it’s Dilys now, is it?”
“Yes, it is. And here’s another first for you. He and I have become good friends—and I’m telling you, my friend deserves a chance.” Autumn didn’t have men friends—especially not young, attractive, in-their-prime men friends. Truth be told, apart from her sisters, she didn’t have many friends period. Men wanted more than she was willing to give, and women didn’t like Autumn constantly drawing all the male attention.
“He saved your life,” Autumn pressed. “Not just by killing that awful man, but later. Even Tildy says you might have died without that Calbernan woo-woo magic he worked on you. The least you can do is see the man and thank him. You owe him that much.”
“Aleta!” Gabriella snapped. “Stop. I’ve already said I’m not going to see him today, and that’s the end of it.”
“Well, that’s too bad. He’s on his way up now.”
“What?” Gabriella sat up straight.
Autumn rose, graceful and serene, and altoge
ther too pleased with herself. “Lily’s young man wasn’t the only one wearing a hole in the stone downstairs. When I offered to deliver Dilys’s flowers and note, I told him to give me five minutes, then come on up.”
“Oh! I don’t believe you! How could you do that to me?” Gabriella threw off the light blanket Tildy had insisted on draping over her and jumped to her feet. She pretty much had been milking her wounded status the last day or so. Coruscates tended to heal quickly with the help of sunlight, and she was no exception. “Well, since you invited him up, you can just stay here and entertain him yourself! Because I’m leaving!”
The threat of running into Dilys Merimydion in the palace halls kept her from fleeing indoors. Instead, she went hurrying through the castle gardens, hoping to sneak out the eastern gate and go hide in her favorite grotto behind Snowbeard Falls.
As Summer’s rose-pink skirts disappeared around a garden hedge, Autumn turned to Spring, who was stepping out onto the garden terrace. Autumn gave her a smug, triumphant smile.
“Told you she’d run.”
“You did.” But Spring didn’t look smug, like Autumn. She looked worried. “I’m still not sure about this. What if we’re wrong?”
“We’re not.”
“But what if we are?”
Autumn put an arm around her oldest sister’s shoulders. It wasn’t like Spring to vacillate after making a decision. She was too much a leader for debilitating self-doubt. They’d been discussing the Summer-Dilys situation since the day Summer was attacked, and they’d agreed that they couldn’t keep enabling Summer’s fear of emotional commitment. Spring was just letting maternal instincts and a lifetime of protecting Sweet Summer get in the way of what was best for her.
“Toughen up, mama bird,” Autumn told her, giving Spring’s shoulders a squeeze. “Time to push your little chick out of the nest.”
Gabriella made it all the way to the far edge of the east garden without running into a single Calbernan. She was just starting to congratulate herself on making a clean escape when the one Calbernan she most wanted to avoid stepped out from behind a hedge, directly into her path.
One moment she was alone, rushing towards the haven of her favorite quiet spot in Konumarr. The next, she was running headfirst into the hardest, hottest, most shockingly silky expanse of naked male chest she’d ever encountered.
He’d appeared so suddenly in her path that she didn’t even have time to put her hands up. Her face mashed into one rock-hard pectoral muscle. His arms came up around her, one hand splayed across her back to steady her, the other gripped the back of her head. He was as warm as a furnace. His skin was incredibly soft and oh so fragrant, filling her nose with scents of coconut, frangipani, and warm, tropical ocean nights. The scent of him seduced her. The feel of him made her yearn for more.
As it had since the first time she’d touched him.
Summer planted her hands against that wall of hard, burning skin, and shoved. Dilys Merimydion released her, and she stumbled back several steps, her heart pounding madly in her chest.
“I beg your pardon, Sealord Merimydion. I didn’t see you there.” She tried to dart around him to his right.
His hand shot out, his massive palm engulfing her right elbow in a light but unyielding grip.
“Don’t go,” he said. “We need to talk.”
“I—er—” She cast a glance towards the garden gate and the walk just beyond it. Escape was so close.
“Ono, Myerialanna Summer,” he said, clearly reading her intentions. “The time for running is over. As is my willingness to wait patiently for you to find your courage. You’ve been awake and well enough for visitors for days now, yet despite my numerous requests, you have refused to see me. Why?”
Her skin was tingling where he touched her. She gave her elbow a tug, but his grip remained ironclad. Rather than humiliating herself struggling against his greater strength, she forced herself to go still.
“Talk to me.” His voice dropped, becoming a husky, beguiling murmur. “Whatever you’re afraid of, I can help, but you need to talk to me.” His eyes shone with a golden light so soft, so tender that she ached to sink into his arms and surrender herself and all her fears into his keeping. One big hand lifted, and he reached out as if to caress her cheek.
She flinched back. She was afraid that if he touched her with even a fraction of the breathtaking tenderness shining from his eyes, she wouldn’t be able to stop from flinging herself into his arms.
He misinterpreted her flinch. The hand on her arm tightened, and he growled—growled!—at her. “Don’t you dare shrink away from me like you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you, Gabriella! You know better than that!”
For a moment, she could only stand there, gaping stupidly at him, stunned by the realization—the absolute certainty—that she’d not just angered him, she’d hurt him. Then stunned again by the realization that hurting him was like driving a knife into her own heart.
A moment after that second realization, her well-developed sense of self-preservation kicked in. With it came a surge of righteous indignation. Had he just attempted to Persuade her again? She wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t think of any other rational explanation for what felt like a deep emotional attachment to him. Especially since she’d done such an expert job of avoiding him specifically to avoid forming such an attachment.
More furious now than fearful, she yanked her arm out of his grip and snapped, “Let go of me! How dare you manhandle me? And how dare you address me in so familiar a way? You haven’t the right!”
“Oh, yes I do,” he snapped back. “You gave me that right the moment you kissed me that night on the docks.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Oh, sweet Halla, he remembered that kiss! The Persuasions holding back his memories were breaking!
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hoping to shore up her weakening hold on his memories—or at least cast enough confusion in his mind to make him wonder if those memories were real—she took a deep breath, filled her voice with Persuasion, and said, “Look, they tell me Tildavera couldn’t have saved my life without you. For that you have my gratitude.”
Dilys’s eyes narrowed a little, as if he could sense the pressure on his mind to believe her over his memories. She didn’t want his suspicion to override her efforts, so she pushed a little harder. “And if you’re the one who saved Lily and me from her father, you have my gratitude for that, too. He was a vicious brute who would have killed us both if he could.”
That extra push seemed to be working, as his expression had changed from narrow-eyed suspicion to a sort of intent blankness. “So, thank you, Sealord Merimydion, for your great service to me and my family. Now, I’m sure you are looking forward to spending the day courting my sisters, so don’t let me keep you from it. I know how important it is that you bring one of them home to Calberna as your wife. And I’m sure whichever of my sisters you marry, the two of you will be very, very happy together.” With a final push of Persuasion and coolly regal smile, she turned away and started for the garden gate.
She’d taken two steps when he started to laugh.
“Oh, moa myerina! How in Halla’s name have you managed to fool everyone all these years—how did you manage to fool me!—when you are such a truly terrible liar?”
Despite her plan to make a quick exit, Summer’s mouth dropped open and she turned to glare at him. She wasn’t a terrible liar! She was an excellent liar! “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sniffed.
“Of course you do.” He smiled. Grimly. “Fair warning, moa kiri: if you ever use your Voice to try and make me betray my bond to you again, so help me Numahao, I will turn you over my knee and paddle your backside until those sweet cheeks of yours are as red as the Rose on your wrist! As your akua, I may be bound to you body and soul, but my mind is my own, and not yours to manipulate.”
It took her a few moments to get past the shock of his spanking threat to realize that not on
ly had her efforts at Persuasion failed miserably just now—all her previous Persuasions had been utterly shattered as well.
He remembered everything.
Shoto!
Time to make a quick escape.
“Good day, Sealord.” She whirled around and rushed towards the gate.
He darted around her with shocking swiftness. One moment he was several paces behind her, the next he stood between her and freedom. His laughter was gone. “Enough, Gabriella.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“And I told you that right is mine, given and accepted, and I will use it. As for who killed the man who hurt you, we both know it wasn’t me—even though I would have happily shredded that worthless krillo with my own claws had you not destroyed him with your Voice.”
“My—? You think I killed a man with my voice?” She didn’t even have to pretend shock this time. Even she’d never made that particular connection! She’d always said it was the beast—the great and deadly power that made its home inside her—but now that he’d suggested it, she could see he was right. The power pulling from every part of her, leaving her body on a terrible roar—a shout of killing rage. Dear gods. “Even if such a thing were possible, I can assure you I would never have m-murdered a man in cold blood.” Her tongue tripped over the word as her mind filled with the vivid memory of Lily’s father—mouth open, eyes bulging and filled with terror as he realized he was going to die—and her own hot, savage satisfaction at knowing that she would be the one to end him, to destroy his ability to ever hurt another person again. Gods, how the fury had raged through her. The Summer Rose on her wrist had burned hotter than a forge—as if a piece of the sun itself had lodged itself in her flesh.
“What you did was justice and self-defense, not murder, moa halea,” Dilys said. He reached for her hands. She managed to sweep her left hand behind her back, but he caught the right. His fingers traced the lines on her palm. His thumb brushed across the red Rose on her inner wrist. “And there was nothing cold about it.”