by Cayla Kluver
“I’m seeing if I can spot any fish. Temerson told me they sparkle when the sun shines off their scales.”
“You won’t see any fish in this part of the river.” Semari giggled. “The water is moving too fast.”
“You may as well come down,” I called apprehensively to them. The last thing I wanted was for my sister to plunge into the Recorah.
I glanced over at Halias and Tadark, who had moved along the tree line with us and were talking at the edge of the clearing. Tadark was sitting on his heels near a large willow tree, but Halias remained on his feet, eyes fixed on his charge.
“As you wish,” Miranna said, dropping her hands to the rough stone surface to make the short descent less arduous. Just as she did, I heard the chink of something metal as it ricocheted off the rock and splashed into the water.
“Oh no!” Miranna exclaimed, leaning forward. “My bracelet! It’s fallen into the river!” She dropped to her knees, preparing to reach for it.
“Get down from there now!” I snapped, my overprotectiveness as her elder sibling kicking in full force.
Miranna looked at me petulantly, but then eased her way to the ground.
“But what about my bracelet? I can see it—it’s right there, caught between two of the rocks.”
She and Semari approached, a pout upon my sister’s face. I again glanced at Halias, whose stance had relaxed now that Miranna’s feet were securely on the ground. I deliberated calling him over to retrieve my sister’s lost jewelry, then settled against it. While the younger girls deemed this important, I thought it rather trivial, and would have been embarrassed to make anyone attempt this retrieval task, especially a member of Hytanica’s Elite Guard.
“I’ll try to reach it,” I finally groaned.
I pulled myself, with a distinct lack of grace, up on top of the rock outcropping, crouching down on its jagged surface. I could see Miranna’s bracelet directly below me, shimmering with sunlight between the last of the bleak gray rocks that tumbled into the water, and I cautiously advanced toward it. As I could not reach it from my current position, I sat and continued to move forward, using the uneven edges of the stones as footholds. When it looked to be within my grasp, I seized the best handhold I could find and stretched toward it, straightening my arms as I attempted to rescue the bracelet from the clutches of the Recorah.
I wasn’t close enough. Grimacing with frustration, I released my handhold very slightly, trying to gain another inch.
Things happened quickly then. My fingers were grasping air and my arm was waving about as if independent from my body, groping for something to keep me in place, but there was nothing to which I could cling to prevent myself from plummeting into the frothing water. As the river consumed first my left shoulder and then my hips and legs, I vaguely heard the sound of a high-pitched shriek, either from Miranna or Semari, but the water splashing into my mouth prevented me from uttering any cry of distress.
The raw torrent swirled around me, threatening to drag me under, and I sputtered and flailed, certain I would drown. Just as the current was about to sweep me away from the boulders, I was half dragged onto the rock by a pair of strong arms. My dress, which was now soaked and extraordinarily heavy, seemed reluctant to leave the river behind, but this did not hinder my rescuer. My first coherent thought, strangely, as I coughed and fought to draw air into my burning lungs, was that London had somehow appeared to save me. When my breathing eased, I looked into the face of the man upon whom I was leaning for support, and felt a shock as intense as the one the cold water had just dealt me.
Narian. Narian had pulled me from the river. I hadn’t known he was there, yet somehow he had been near enough to reach me and agile enough to save me without falling into the water himself.
“Where did you…?” I muttered in bewilderment.
“I came down the path,” he said as he nimbly jumped off the rock pile. “I saw you falling.”
As he turned to offer me a hand, Halias brushed him aside and lifted me to the ground. The Elite Guard had evidently seen me plunge into the water but had not been close enough to help. Narian must have been very close indeed to have grabbed me before I had yielded to the river’s strength—much closer than either of the bodyguards and definitely closer than the path.
“Are you all right, Princess?” Halias asked urgently. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, although my heart continued to pound in recognition of the danger in which I had placed myself, and I shook from the chill of the water. Tadark, who hovered a few feet away, might have been shaking more, however—I was, after all, his responsibility.
Miranna and Semari, who had been hanging on to each other as though afraid they might fall into the river as well, now rushed to me. Miranna hugged me, having concluded that I would live, and then she and Semari began to laugh in relief. Even I had to chuckle a little bit at what had been an ungainly entry into the water.
As Miranna began to wring the water out of my long hair, Halias removed the royal-blue doublet he wore as a member of the Elite Guard, so that he stood in his white shirt, and insisted that I put the garment on for warmth. As I did so, I stared down at my skirt. It was rumpled and dripping, and grime from the rocks had collected among its thick folds. I looked at Narian and saw that his dark shirt and breeches were also wet where he had held me against him.
Halias, too, was now gazing at Narian, although there was a much edgier look upon his face than on mine. I realized that this must be confounding for both him and Tadark. They had been trained to notice and react the moment a disloyal eye flickered in the direction of a royal, and yet they had been effortlessly skirted by a sixteen-year-old boy. And, on top of that, this boy had just saved the dignity, if not the life, of one of their charges.
“What is going on over here?” A man’s voice hailed us, and Koranis, followed by Zayle, emerged from among the trees, the two having come down the path. Koranis’s eyes widened as he passed Tadark and took in the entire scene.
“My goodness, Princess Alera,” he exclaimed. “What has happened to your gown?”
He looked at the others gathered around me, then a frown creased his brow as he noted the condition of his older son’s clothing.
“I fell in,” I said, motioning toward the river with my hand. “Nar—Kyenn rescued me.” I glanced at Narian to see his reaction to the name I used for him, but his face was inscrutable. “I am quite grateful to him.”
“You should return to the house without delay,” Koranis decreed, rather needlessly, given my sodden appearance. “We are certain to have something into which you can change.” He gazed at Narian, then finished in his overbearing manner, “Kyenn and I will accompany you. He could benefit from a change of clothing as well.”
“Thank you for your ministrations, but please don’t let this ruin the afternoon for everyone else,” I politely but firmly stated. “I am unharmed, and there is no need for you to escort me to the house, as the Baroness will be there to assist me. I would much prefer that you take some respite from your day rather than trouble yourself.”
“Oh, please, Papa!” Semari implored. “Won’t you stay for a little while? You and Zayle have only just come.”
Koranis paused, and I recalled what Semari had said about her father having been told to keep an eye on Narian. Most likely concerned that letting his son walk through the woods with the Crown Princess of Hytanica would be unwise, Koranis turned to Halias, seeking his opinion. At the Elite Guard’s permissive nod, he smiled indulgently at his daughter.
“I suppose I could stay for a short while,” the Baron pronounced. “Kyenn, you will return to the house with Princess Alera and her bodyguard.”
I could tell from Narian’s expression that he detested his father’s dictatorial air, just as I could tell from Tadark’s wide brown eyes that the prospect of being my only defense against Narian was making him feel ill. It was obvious from my bodyguard’s reaction that talk of the recent confrontation between
Steldor and Narian had circulated among the palace force.
“You’re not truly frightened of a teenager, are you?” I heard Halias mutter to Tadark.
“No,” the younger guard said, puffing out his chest like a small, offended owl.
Halias saw through him and added, his words barely audible, “My God, Tadark, he’s not even armed! How did you get into the Elite Guard anyway, with such a core of cowardice?”
I was once again amazed at Tadark’s ability to provoke even the most tolerant of people. It was practically impossible to anger the good-natured deputy captain, and here Tadark had done it as effortlessly as a bird taking wing.
“Come, Tadark,” I interposed, before their exchange could become more heated. “I would like to return with some measure of haste.”
My bodyguard’s cheeks colored as he stepped forward to lead the way. I followed behind, wondering where Narian had gone, for he had departed the moment Koranis had told him to do so, although I was sure he hadn’t acted out of obedience. Perhaps he did not like the company gathered in the clearing, or perhaps accompanying me didn’t appeal to him in the least. But as Tadark and I came to the end of the narrow trail that connected to the main path, I saw Narian resting his back against a tree, waiting for us. Tadark shot the young man a distrustful glare when he came to walk beside me, then dropped behind us in order to better monitor Narian’s conduct, his left hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
We made our way through the trees without speaking. I was eager to say something to Narian—I had never been so intrigued by a person in my life—but he seemed content to maintain the silence between us, the only sounds the incessant sloshing of my gown and squishing of my shoes.
I grabbed fistfuls of my skirt in an attempt to make my movement less hindered as Narian lithely moved ahead of me, but to no avail. My dress clung to my skin and my undergarments, causing me to stumble over and over. I moaned, longing to break free of the woods. I knew from the sunlight that filtered through the trees that the forest was becoming less dense as we advanced, and could only hope I didn’t fall before we came to the trail’s end.
“Do you always dress like that?” Narian had halted a dozen or so paces in front of me to check on my progress.
I stared at him as if a stream of profanities had come from his mouth rather than the simple question he had actually posed, astounded that he had spoken.
“I’m generally tidier,” I said, eyes shifting to my disheveled clothing as I pushed my damp, limp hair away from my face.
“I mean, do you always wear those impractical skirts?” he clarified, scrutinizing me as I labored to move toward him without tripping over the heavy tent that hung around my legs.
“Impractical?” I frowned at him, unsure whether he had meant to insult me.
“Well, yes. You no doubt would have drowned from the weight of your gown had I not been there to prevent it.”
Stopping a few feet in front of him, I snipped, “I’m afraid I didn’t consider the risk of falling into a river and nearly drowning when I chose my wardrobe.”
“Well, what did you consider?”
“I don’t know!” I said, bridling at the criticism in his tone. I uttered the first thing that came to mind. “The weather!”
“The weather?” he repeated.
“What would you have had me take into account?”
“Self-defense. Cokyrian women only wear dresses at formal functions, and even then they bear weapons. You have no ability to carry a weapon at all.”
“That’s what he’s for,” I countered, waving in Tadark’s general direction.
“He is your only protection?”
“Yes, on an outing such as this,” I confirmed, perplexed by his interest, but certain I was about to put an end to this debate. “At larger affairs, multiple guards watch over me.”
“Tell me,” he murmured, taking a step closer. “How would your guard protect you now?”
Narian’s nearness was disturbing, and I began to worry that Tadark was daydreaming.
“From what would I need protection?” I asked slowly, unable to look away from his keen blue eyes, which were boring into my suspicious brown ones.
A flash of light, a glint of metal in the sun, told me before he readied it to strike that he held a dagger in his right hand. In stunned disbelief, I saw the blade come toward me. Terror flitted through my brain as I grasped that I might again be in mortal peril. Then Narian stooped and slashed off the front of my skirt below the knee so that my leggings were exposed indecently to the air.
I stood frozen, too horrified to move. Tadark was at my side in an instant, his sword drawn as if he were protecting me, although I knew he would have arrived too late had Narian intended to do me harm.
“Step away from the Princess,” Tadark commanded.
Narian stared unflinchingly down the length of the cold metal, then relented and moved backward so that I was beyond his reach. Flipping the dagger so that he held the blade, he extended the weapon to my bodyguard.
“I assume you’re going to demand that I relinquish my weapon,” Narian explained.
Tadark said nothing, but snatched the knife from Narian’s proffered hand.
“It is of no great loss to me,” the young man continued, as Tadark tucked the dagger away in his belt. “A Cokyrian is never without a weapon.”
I wasted no time puzzling over this last statement, for my anger was rising.
“Look what you’ve done!” I railed, frustration emanating from the very pores of my skin. “My dress is ruined!”
Narian surveyed me, unaffected by my outburst.
“You’ll find walking to be much easier now. And I must say, Princess, that there wasn’t much hope for your gown anyway.”
I opened my mouth, expecting a suitable comeback to emerge, but none came. Before I could gather my wits, he started once more down the path, and I followed, shaking my head in awe of his nerve. But, I grudgingly had to admit to myself, I didn’t stumble once.
CHAPTER 16
UNAPPEALING PROPOSALS
“MY LADY, LORD STELDOR AWAITS YOU IN THE garden.”
“Thank you,” I said to the Palace Guard who had been sent to the library to find me. I had been lounging, scanning a book or two, and simply letting my thoughts wander. As the guard hurried away, I groaned inwardly, though my feelings were no doubt written upon my face. Steldor was not the person I wanted to see.
In fact, there was just one person on my mind. I could not escape the image of Narian’s knife drawing near my flesh, or erase the knowledge of how easily he could have harmed me before Tadark had arrived to stand between us. Narian was correct regarding my protection—in a scenario such as the one I had faced two days previously, the only person who could have defended me was me, and I barely possessed the ability to flee with some semblance of coordination.
I thought back to how he had rescued me from the river. I could have drowned—my own bodyguards had been too far away to help me. But Narian had been there, somehow having bypassed Tadark and (more impressively) Halias. How could he have gotten close enough to reach me without anyone noticing? How long had he been there, and would he have revealed himself to us if my clumsiness had not made it necessary? These questions haunted me, despite my efforts to divert my attention elsewhere.
Tadark had ignored my introverted attitude of late, too humiliated by his own blunder in underestimating Narian to bring up the incident. I too kept silent about it, preferring to ponder on my own the mystery that the young man presented.
I stood and made my way to the garden to meet with the man of my nightmares. I had not seen Steldor since the evening of the event held in honor of Narian’s family, and still had no inclination to do so. Narian was almost the converse of Steldor, and having spent time recently with the former, I suspected that I would have a harder time than usual abiding the latter.
I ambled through the corridor, in no rush to get to my destination, and walked down the family staircase
, Tadark beside me this time rather than behind. My last visit with Narian had increased my bodyguard’s vigilance, inside as well as outside the palace. He would not accompany me within the garden, however, as Steldor was viewed by my father and Cannan as fully qualified to protect me.
Upon entering the grounds, I saw Steldor a short way down the path from me. Given his attire—a black leather military jerkin—he must have come from the military base. In his left hand he held a bouquet of flowers that I recognized as having come from the garden in which we stood, obviously an impromptu addition to whatever he had planned for me.
“You’re especially radiant today, Princess Alera,” he said, bowing and kissing my hand in his customary way, apparently hoping that the cheap flattery he used on other girls would have a softening effect upon me. He extended the hand in which he held the bouquet. “These flowers pale in comparison.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I suppressed the urge and halfheartedly accepted his gift.
“What do you want, Steldor?” I inquired, his outrageous behavior of a week ago uppermost in my mind.
“Perhaps we should walk.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand toward the garden pathway.
“I’d rather not.”
A shadow of displeasure fell upon his features at my refusal, and I knew his thoughts had tracked my own. “You’re not making this easy for me.”
“And why should I make things easy?”
“Really, Alera,” he scoffed, voice thick with condescension. “You can’t honestly believe my actions at the palace celebration were unjustified. I admit I may have overreacted somewhat, but you can hardly claim my anger was unprovoked.”
“And what exactly did I do to provoke you?” I asked, my jaw set, not willing to let him get away with blaming that fiasco on me.
“You must get past these childish games!” he admonished, running a hand through his dark hair. “You know very well we are courting. Could you have possibly thought that I would react in any other way? You being seen with another man will not change the fact that we are to marry. It’s time you accepted that and began acting in an appropriate manner.”