by Rinelle Grey
He’d thought long and hard about where to take her today. He wanted it to be somewhere special, but also somewhere he could be sure of complete privacy. There had seemed only one logical choice.
They rounded the last corner and the harbour came into view. Busy and bustling, it seemed like the last place one would find any privacy. Workers were unloading cargo from the ships, and wagons took the goods away to warehouses. To their left, a passenger ship gave its final boarding call, bound for a slow cruise up the coastline.
Brianna stared around her in wonder, and Lyall waited for a few moments for her to take it all in. When she turned and smiled at him, he led her gently to the small pier on the right, where his vessel was berthed.
She was much smaller than the cruise ship, only enough room below for a small cabin with a bed. He rarely spent much time below deck anyway, and he certainly didn’t plan on it today.
Brianna’s smile was wide. “We’re going on a boat?”
Lyall smiled and jumped the small gap between the deck and the pier. He set the picnic basket down and turned to hold out his hand to Brianna, but she had already jumped the gap easily. “I take it this is a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” Lyall agreed. “You approve?”
“I most certainly do. You must know everyone in Bymere. Who’s lending you their boat?”
“It’s mine actually,” Lyall admitted.
She raised an eyebrow. “You own it?”
“I do.” He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. This was only the beginning of his news this afternoon, and he wondered for a moment if she was going to guess the rest.
But she just smiled. “Show me around?”
There wasn’t really much to show, but Lyall dutifully took her over the small yacht. “It’s fairly small,” he found himself apologising. He showed her the wheel, the small cabin that protected the captain in a storm and briefly lifted the hatch down to the sleeping cabin, saying offhand, “The sleeping quarters are down there.”
She wanted to see of course, so Lyall helped her down the stairs. He would have stayed up top, but he was worried she would lose her footing with the rocking of the boat and slip on the steep staircase.
The room was small, with a bunk bed against one wall, and a few cupboards against the other.
“You sleep on the boat?” she asked him with interest.
“Sometimes. Depends where I’m going and how long the trip is.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer and was happy enough to come back up on deck and watch as he cast off and raised the sails. He didn’t take them far, just for a short sail around the harbour. Then he anchored a little way off the shore, away from the hustle and bustle.
Brianna glanced up at the sun, then frowned. “I’m going to be late for my afternoon shift.”
“I arranged it with Syrid, you have the afternoon off,” he told her. “So you have no excuse for not relaxing and enjoying yourself.”
She stared at him for a moment, and he wondered then if she guessed his news. But then she laughed and said, “Oh, gee, you make my life difficult, Lyall.”
He grinned and instead of responding, opened the picnic basket.
Elsian had outdone herself. Lyall pulled out a red and white checked rug and spread it out on the wooden deck. Then he arranged the white china plates and the cutlery on it and served a piece of Elsian’s special apple pie for each of them. He hesitated for a moment over the bottle of wine she’d included. He didn’t often drink, but he poured them each a glass anyway. This could be classified as a special occasion.
They ate in companionable silence. After the pie, there were strawberries and cream, followed by little individually wrapped chocolates. Finally, when they could eat no more, they leaned against the railing and looked back towards the harbour, finishing off the last of the wine.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Brianna asked finally.
“Is it that obvious?” Lyall asked ruefully.
Brianna turned and smiled at him sadly, and though he was sad for the expression, it gave him some hope that she was beginning to care about him.
“Will you miss me?” he asked impulsively.
“Lyall,” she protested.
“Brianna,” he put a hand on her arm and looked seriously at her.
She seemed uncomfortable but didn’t pull away. Finally, she sighed. “Of course I’ll miss you,” she said gruffly.
Lyall couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be.” She punched him playfully, but with a hint of a sting. “Are you planning on coming back?” she asked more seriously.
He sighed. “It’s complicated. I want to, but I don’t know if I can.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means; I don’t know.”
“Great.”
They were silent for a moment, then Brianna opened up a little for the first time. “Back in my village, there’s a boy I was supposed to marry.”
“Supposed to?”
“Yeah, supposed to. But I couldn’t, so I ran away instead.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
She laughed. “I don’t know.”
“Touché.” Lyall smiled.
He should have been upset that she had someone waiting for her, that she didn’t seem certain about anything, but in actual fact, he felt more positive than he had since they had met. So positive, in fact, that he did something completely reckless.
He leaned across and kissed her.
Her lips were warm and soft under his and after a moment’s hesitation, they parted just enough that he could taste her. He pulled back long enough to see the dreamy, contented look in her eyes before kissing her again. A longer, more drawn out kiss this time.
She pulled back this time, but only far enough to say softly, “Lyall?” Her lips were parted and her voice breathless. She didn’t need to say anymore. The question in her eyes was the same as the one in his heart. How far were they going to take this?
He knew now why some mages threw caution to the wind and took a chance on someone they barely knew. He could have slept with her now without a second thought, and he suspected she would not protest. In fact, the way her body arched towards him suggested that she was feeling the same intense feelings he was.
“Brianna,” he groaned and kissed her again. His hand slid to her waist, but he dared not take it any further. Much as he wanted to, now was not the time. He needed a clear head, and to know her a little better, before he made that decision. He’d seen too many of his friends trapped for life all because of this impulse.
The kiss, though. Well, there was nothing wrong with kissing. And the rug Elsian had provided was thick and soft. Somehow, they ended up lying side by side, not touching except for their lips. She tasted like chocolate, and he wondered if he did too. The thought made him smile.
He had no idea how long they lay like that, but he was breathless and more than a little dizzy when she pulled back. She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, smiling a little in wonder. He smiled back.
Eventually, reluctantly, he said softly, “I should get you back to the inn.”
“Do we have to?” she asked.
He was sorely tempted. They could stay here, squeezed into the narrow bunk bed. He didn’t have to make love to her, they could just lie in each other’s arms.
But he didn’t quite trust himself. “I think we’d better,” he said ruefully. “If I wasn’t leaving tomorrow…” He let the suggestion hang in the air, and she smiled. He squeezed her hand, then stood up and pulled up the anchor and sailed them back to shore.
She packed the picnic basket, and both of them were more composed by the time they disembarked at the harbour. He took the basket from her, and they walked hand in hand back to the inn. He said goodnight to her at her door, kissing her politely on the cheek, not trusting his self-control to do more. “Goodbye, Brianna,” he said softly.
“Goodbye,
Lyall,” she replied, turning away to hide the tears in her eyes.
Crossing to his door and closing it behind him was harder than he had imagined, but finally he was alone in his room.
He would come back for her. No matter what his father decreed, he would come back.
6
Keep a Secret
“You’re late,” King Balen said flatly. “Five days late, in fact.”
“I hope my reasons for being so will make up for that transgression, sir,” Lyall said.
His father raised an eyebrow. “They would have to be very good.”
“I found a mage on the mainland.”
His father’s brow drew down. “A mage? On the mainland?”
“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t going to give any more details until his father relented.
His news was surprising enough that forgiveness was automatic. “I take it not someone from the island?” Almost a repeat question, but with a subtle difference. A mage from the island would be there against his father’s express commands. No mages left Isla de Magi without his permission, and he rarely gave permission.
Lyall shook his head. “No, not from the island.”
His father’s frown deepened. “Did he recognise you for a mage?”
“She,” Lyall corrected. “And no, she didn’t. She appears unaware of her magical power.”
She?” His father raised an eyebrow, then frowned. “If she’s not from here, if she is, actually, a spontaneous appearance of the magical gene, then it would make sense I suppose. But it should not be possible. Everyone who was even related to a mage came to the island with us. So where has she come from?”
Lyall took the question literally. “I could not get her origins from her, although admittedly, I did not pry much for fear of arousing her suspicions, but she is from outside the city. Some small outlying village, I expect.”
“You talked to the woman then?”
“I thought it best to try to find out as much as I could before reporting back, sir.”
His father frowned. “You took a big risk, Lyall. She may not appear to be using magic, but since the only mages who were left on the mainland were the others…”
“I understand the risk, sir, but I took all the precautions. She was working as a serving maid in the inn I usually stay at. No magic had been used there aside from mine. Why would a mage work at an inn? It seems highly unlikely she was hiding anything, and far more likely that she has no idea of her power.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t just ask her outright.” The sarcasm in his father’s voice grated on his nerves.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore it and respond calmly. “There would have been no purpose to that. And I figured you didn’t want her scared off until we found out a bit more about her. I’m happy to speak to her if you wish, though, I believe we have developed somewhat of a rapport.”
His father’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”
This was beyond a joke. “Of course not, I’m not stupid,” he snapped.
“How old is she?”
No apology, but then, he hadn’t expected one. “Early twenties, maybe? Young anyway.” He hesitated, but as annoyed as he was with his father, he needed to know. “Her power level is high.”
“How high?”
“Very high. Above mine—significantly.” It was hard to admit that. Lyall had always been one of the more powerful mages on the island in terms of raw birth power.
The King’s eyebrows would have disappeared into his hairline, if it hadn’t already receded. He stared at Lyall in disbelief, then his expression turned thoughtful. Lyall waited, hopeful, as his father stared off into the distance for a minute, one finger tapping his lips. Then he turned to him and asked, “Do you think you could bring her back here?”
Lyall nodded eagerly. “I think so. If I tell her about her magic, and…”
“No, don’t tell her,” his father interrupted. “Not until I have had a chance to see her.”
Lyall swallowed the immediate refusal. “But if I don’t tell her about her magic, how am I to explain why I want her to come here?”
“You don’t need to tell her you’re taking her to the island. Tell her…” his father searched around for a suitable reason, then grinned. “Tell her you’re bringing her to meet your family.”
“That might not go down well,” Lyall warned. “She has insisted several times that she’s not interested in a romantic involvement.”
“So you asked her?”
He hadn’t meant that to slip out. To his embarrassment, he felt his face burn. “No, I did not. But I guess she thought I might.”
“Then I guess you can figure out a way to get her here.”
Lyall sighed. “Yes, sir. But, sir?”
“What is it, Lyall?”
Lyall struggled to find the words. “Sir, I… I like her. Really like her. I don’t want to bring her here to be… I don’t know… I feel like I’m betraying her trust.”
“If she is what you say she is, then she belongs here with us. If she isn’t, then she is not worthy of your trust.”
Lyall bit back a sigh and bowed his head in acquiescence. “Yes, sir.”
He hoped Brianna saw it the same way when she arrived.
“Good. Now go and wash up, then go see your mother. She has been worried about you.”
That was one order Lyall could comply with with pleasure. The bath was a welcome necessity. He dressed in clean clothes and found the package he had brought with him from the city.
He found his mother in her rose garden, a book of poetry on her lap, but she looked up and smiled when she saw him. “Lyallen, you have come home at last.” She held out her hands to him.
Lyall took her hands and kissed them. “Of course I have come home, Maman. What else is there possibly in this whole world that could keep me away from you?”
His mother’s eyes twinkled. “A girl, perhaps?”
Lyall grinned wryly. “Father has already spoken to you, I see.”
“He was as worried about you as I was, Lyallen,” his mother scolded lovingly.
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
“Lyallen!”
“I’m sorry, Maman, but he ordered me to bring her here.” He ignored the fact that it was what he had been hoping for. Somehow, it all seemed wrong now.
“I thought that would be what you want, if you care about her?”
“Of course it is. But he doesn’t want me to tell her. She is going to think I betrayed her. And she will be right.”
“If it is meant to be, she will understand,” his mother soothed.
“I wish I had your confidence.”
She patted his arm. “How could I not have confidence in you? You are my child. A mother always believes in her child.”
“I think you may be a little biased.”
Despite that, Lyall couldn’t help but be cheered by her words. He thought of Brianna, and their last day on the boat. Maybe she would understand?
He bent and kissed his mother’s cheek, then reached into his pocket and withdrew the small brown paper wrapped package and laid it in her lap.
“What is this, Lyallen?” she asked.
“Open it and see,” he urged.
She smiled, and pulled the paper from the package as ordered, revealing a colourful book. “Lyallen! It’s ‘The Burnt Buttercup’! Wherever did you find it?”
“I have my sources,” Lyall said mysteriously, delighted to have brought a smile to her face.
She laughed and pulled him down to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Read to me,” she requested, putting the book in his hands.
Lyall smiled, happy to while away a few hours reading her much loved poetry to her.
All too soon, the bell rang signifying dinner time. Lyall finished off the last few verses of the romantic ballad and closed the book. His mother sighed in satisfaction, then reached for the small hand bell that was always at her side.
Lyall put his hand over hers before she could ring it. “Let me, Maman.”
She fussed, as usual. “You don’t need to do that, Lyallen, I have a perfectly good man to do it for me.”
“And your son is perfectly capable as well,” Lyall said firmly, and picked her up gently in his arms.
In truth, she weighed little more than a featherweight. He wished he could convince her to eat more, but little ever tempted her tastebuds. She always claimed that she did not get enough exercise to work up an appetite, but Lyall suspected it had more to do with distraction on her part. She was far more likely to spend her day with her head in a book than eating.
He supposed there was little else she could do, crippled as she was. Most of the normal occupations of women, sewing, mending and cooking, that she could have done from her chair, were denied her by her position as queen. He’d tried many times to tell his father she needed something to occupy her mind and her hands, but her father thought showering her in every comfort and luxury was the solution.
He carried her easily into the house and sat her in her chair next to his father. The king frowned at Lyall, but didn’t comment. Lyall took his assigned seat on the opposite side of the table as the waiters served the meal.
King Balen led the dinner table conversation, talking about a new, early testing policy being implemented at the schools and a new spell that was being developed for moving large quantities of grain around. Lyall commented only when necessary, and tried to keep his usual sarcasm at bay. He was not in the mood for a lecture on proper princely behaviour tonight.
He thought he was going to escape further conversation about Brianna completely but as they were finishing desert, his father asked, “So, when will you leave for the mainland?”
“As soon as it pleases you, sir,” Lyall said dutifully.
“Tomorrow morning then,” his father decided.
His mother’s face fell. “But he only just got home!”
“He will not be gone more than a few days, will you, Lyall?”
“No, sir, a few days should suffice.”
His mother still looked upset but she didn’t protest further.