Masked (The Divided Kingdom Book 1)

by Shari Cross

  “It was always clear from the way you looked at her. It was like you were seeing her for the first time every time. And then there’s the way you watched over her. So protective. You were constantly aware of what she was doing, where she was going. Not to mention how mindful you were of others who began to show interest in her. I’m an observant man, Drake. Especially when it comes to my children.”

  I think back on all our years together. Sure, I watched over her, but so did Gregory. Being protective doesn’t mean I was in love with her. Then I think about me being “aware.” I did always try to know where she was, or what she was doing. And when our friend, John, began to express interest in her, I became overwhelmed with what I thought was anger, but now realize was jealousy. I all but forced him to find someone else to pursue.

  Robert’s right. I have been in love with her for years. I just didn’t know it until the day of our fight; when I realized that I could lose her to someone else. Every day since then I have watched her converse with other men, knowing they wanted more than her words. Every time one of them kissed her hand, or leaned in too close, complete rage burned inside me. The feelings I had stirring in me were no longer near that of an over-protective friend. I was dominated by jealousy.

  I wanted to be the one to wrap my arms around her and never let go, to press my mouth against hers, and place my entire life in the curve of her lips. There have been so many times over the last year that I have looked at her and wanted to tell her how much I love her. If only I had been able to, would we be here now, with her fighting for her life, and me helpless to save her?

  “I do love your daughter, sir. And I swear to you that I will never let any harm come to her, ever again,” I finally respond to Robert. I already failed her once, but I will never fail her again.

  “I know you wouldn’t, Drake. I would never have to worry about her well-being if she were with you, but do you really believe this decision of yours is a wise one? I know my daughter loves you. She has always loved you and has always been fiercely protective of you, but you have to ask yourself if it’s the same love you have for her. My daughter is loyal, brave, strong and kind, but she’s also easily distracted and always looking for something new to excite her. When you came around, it was the most fascinating thing this village had seen in a very long time. And she was the one who found you, so she claimed you as hers immediately. You were her new, mysterious toy, and no one else could have you.” He chuckles sadly and then shakes his head. “Tell me Drake, what will happen when that mystery wears off? What will happen when someone new comes around? Will she stay with you, or will she abandon you for someone or something more exciting?

  “Now, I love my daughter, you know that, and I love you as well. You’re family to me, and there’s nothing I want more than your happiness. That’s why I want you to be cautious.”

  I look over at Robert and his eyes meet mine.

  “I could be wrong, Drake. She may love you as much as you love her. But these things I speak of are possibilities. You know her better than anyone. So ask yourself if you’re positive that she’ll stay by your side forever. If you’re not, don’t give up this opportunity to possibly find some answers about your past.”

  Robert’s words spread like ice through my veins. He stands and moves around the side of the bed and places his hand on Addalynne’s cheek.

  I swallow against my discomfort. “I understand what you’re saying, sir, but I have already accepted the fact that she may not return my feelings. If friendship is all she wants from me, that’s what I’ll give her.”

  Robert turns toward me, his face skeptical, but sympathetic, as though he’s watching a fatally wounded deer struggle to stand. “Think about what you’re saying, Drake. Picture her with someone else. Would you be content to stand in the background, being her ‘friend’ while she falls in love with him, marries him? Don’t sacrifice something as important as your past for an uncertain future. Besides, you can always join the Schild and, after you find your answers, you can return. She’s stabilized now, but it may take time for her to fully awaken. Why not spend that time in Synereal? And when you come back, if she’s still waiting for you, then you’ll know that she loves you as much as you love her.” He moves toward me and places his hand on my shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting, but it feels like iron. “Whatever you decide, all I ask is that you be sure it’s the best decision for both of you.” He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave the room.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Robert says as he opens the door, and I turn around to face him. “Did Gregory tell you about the prisoner?”

  “No. What prisoner?”

  “The one from Incarnadine.”

  His words swim in my head like a rough current, beating against me. “Incarnadine?”

  “Yes. They found him hiding in the woods on the outskirts of the capital. He’s being held in Synereal for questioning. Addalynne would have been so excited.” He smiles, but there’s a deep sorrow to it. “Anyway, I thought maybe you could tell her. If she could listen to anyone while in this state, it would be you. And maybe it will give her a reason to wake up.” With that he turns and leaves the room. I wait until he shuts the door behind him, then let out a breath and drop my head into my hands. My hands wrap around my hair, pulling.

  What am I going to do? If the prisoner is really from Incarnadine, he could have answers for me, but the only way I can get those answers is to join the Schild and go to Synereal with Gregory and Walter. But if I join the Schild then I have to leave Addalynne. Then there’s what Robert said. Would Addalynne leave me if someone new and exciting came along? Would she turn her back on me at the promise of adventure?

  No, she would never do that. She loves me. I know she does. I saw it in her eyes and I heard it in her voice when she told me she didn’t want to lose me.

  But then I tried to kiss her, and she pulled away and told me I should leave. Then, when the hellion came, I called for her, but it wasn’t my arms she ran to, she ran toward the Grey Tree, toward adventure. Dread courses through me. I could be wrong. What am I supposed to do? I lay my head down and press it against our intertwined hands, breathing in her scent.

  Robert wants me to make the best decision for both of us? But how can I possibly know what that would be? I hope that it would be my staying, and our being together. At the first sign of her reciprocating my feelings, I would ask Robert for her hand in marriage. But is that what she would want? What kind of a life can I offer her? I will never be known as anything more than, “the orphan.” Besides, the life she wants is not one that confines her within the walls of Faygrene. Can I give her the escape she’s always searching for? As a blacksmith, I can surely provide for her, but to travel would be difficult. I don’t have the proper status or wealth.

  And again, if I stay, I’ll lose all hope of learning about my past.

  But how can I walk away from her and let go of everything I’ve wanted for so long? I don’t know if I can. But I don’t have to leave forever. I can go to Synereal, get my answers and come back to her. Robert said it himself. I can always come back.

  My body trembles as I force myself to stand. I have to leave. I have to take this chance to get answers. I owe it to not only myself, but to Addalynne. If we want a chance at a real future together, we have to know the truth of my past.

  I look down at Addalynne, taking in every feature of her sleeping form. I memorize the raven-like color of her long, full hair. I trace my fingers along the fair skin of her face, lingering where a few freckles play across her cheeks. They’re so light that most people don’t notice them, but I’ve known they were there from the first moment I saw her. I can picture her now, her face inches from mine, her young, amber eyes wide and filled with excitement. Each freckle like a burst of energy. I store each one into memory.

  My gaze then travels to her lips, soft and full. Every part of me aches to press my lips against hers. For over a year I have dreamt about what it would be like to p
art her lips with my own and feel her breath mix with mine. It kills me to think about how close I came to having that dream become a reality, only to watch it disappear. I place the curve of her lips into another part of my mind, where I’ll protect it forever.

  Lastly, I look at her closed eyes. Her eyelashes are brushing against her cheeks, sealing her eyes off from me. More than anything, I wish I could see them one last time before I leave, but I know it’s impossible.

  Leaning down, I gently press my lips to her forehead. “Goodbye, Addy,” I whisper, forcing myself to let go. Because the truth is, though I know I’ll return, I don’t know when. I don’t know how long this journey will take. All I can do is pray that she’ll wait for me.

  I don’t let myself look back while I walk toward the door. If I do, I’ll never be able to leave. My hand reaches for the door knob. I close my eyes and focus on breathing, pushing back every instinct I have that’s telling me to go back to her. It takes all my strength, but I manage to open the door.

  I slowly make my way to the front room where Addalynne’s family is sitting. “Robert, may I speak with you?”

  “Of course, my boy.” Robert rises from his chair and walks toward me.

  I turn and head to the kitchen, where we can have some privacy. “I’ve decided to leave with Gregory and Walter,” I say as soon as we walk into the kitchen. Robert’s face is carefully composed. “But,” I continue. “I want you to tell Addalynne that I will return. I’m only leaving long enough to get some answers. Then I’ll come back to be with her, if she’ll have me. I’m going to write her a letter, explaining everything, but I want to make sure she knows. Please tell her.”

  Robert nods his head in understanding. “It will be the first thing I do when she wakes up.”

  “Thank you, Robert.” I reach my hand out to shake his, but he pulls me in for a hug instead.

  “Take care of yourself, Drake.”

  “I will.”

  As we walk out of the kitchen, Genoveve and Elizabeth rise to their feet, their faces tightened with confusion.

  I walk toward Elizabeth and wrap my arms around her. “You be careful, all right. Don’t go running around with any boys.” I try to laugh, but it gets stuck in my throat.

  “Why are you saying that?” she asks, but I can’t answer. Instead, I plant a gentle kiss on her forehead and then turn toward Genoveve. She wraps her arms around me with the comfort and understanding only a mother can provide. I don’t need to say anything to her. She already knows what my decision is.

  After a few seconds, I drop my arms from around Genoveve and make my way toward the door. Elizabeth calls after me, asking me where I’m going, but I still can’t answer her. All I can do is focus on walking, telling myself over and over that I will see them again. I will see Addalynne again. But if that’s true, why does this feel so final?

  Chapter 11

  HER

  Lilies . . . their aromatic scent drifts in with the breeze. I take a deep breath, enjoying the absence of pain. Keeping my eyes closed, I wait for it to come back. It will. It always does. One . . . two . . . three . . . no pain. I count to 90. Still nothing. One at a time, I let my eyes slowly open. Everything is blurry and bright, much too bright.

  As my eyes adjust, I look at my surroundings. It takes me a moment, but I finally realize that I’m in my own chambers. To my left, the window is open, allowing a light breeze to blow through. To my right, my little sister is asleep in the chair with an ivory cloth draped across the skirt of her dark blue dress. Her red hair is pulled back into a loose braid, and curls are breaking through, escaping down her face. Her eyebrows are scrunched together, her lips tightened in thought as she sleeps.

  “Elizabeth,” I try to say her name, but my voice is raw and it comes out as a muted whisper. Still, it was enough to wake her, and I watch her eyes fly open, her body rocking forward in bewilderment. She blinks several times, as though she’s trying to determine if what she’s seeing is real. Then a full smile blossoms on her face. She pushes herself off the chair and drops to her knees at my side, grasping my hand.

  “Addalynne, you’re awake!”

  “What . . .”

  “Shhh. Don’t try to talk too much. You need to save your energy.” She rises to her feet, moves hastily across the floor and grabs a pail of water, all the while prattling on about fever and worry and something about Gerwyn Ellers, the village doctor. I try to process what she’s saying, but her words seem jumbled and make little sense. Why would Gerwyn Ellers come here? Mother’s a skilled enough healer; she never calls on him. When Elizabeth gets back to me, she raises a spoonful of water to my mouth, urging me to drink.

  “This is so much easier now that you’re really awake,” she says with a smile. Her words confuse me further, but I don’t bother to ask what they mean. After I take a few sips, she puts the pail down and rushes out of my chambers saying something about getting the others.

  I try to focus on what’s happening, but everything feels fuzzy, as though there’s wool stuffed inside my head keeping me from composing a clear thought. I push myself to remember something, anything about why I’m in bed and being nursed, but the last thing I remember is being in the woods with Drake.

  At the memory of him, my heart races. Elizabeth said she was going to get the others. Will he be with them? I desperately hope he’ll come through my door. I need to see him. I need to hear his voice and feel his touch.

  The door groans as it’s pushed open, signaling the appearance of the “others.” My fingers dig into the blankets. Mother and Father rush in with Elizabeth. No one else is with them.

  A stab of disappointment pierces through me, but it’s lessened by the happiness on my parents’ faces. They rush to my side with tears of joy spilling down their cheeks. They hold me as they cry and kiss my forehead, telling me over and over how relieved and happy they are that I’m finally awake. He still hasn’t come in, and neither has my brother.

  “Where’s Gregory?” I ask weakly as I regard them. It’s now that I notice the dark circles under their eyes and the wrinkles in their clothes. All three of them glance at each other, clearly uncomfortable, waiting for someone else to answer. “Where is he?” This time my voice is much stronger and demanding, but its hoarseness grates in my ears. With an exhale, Mother finally answers me.

  “He’s in Synereal. He left with the Schild.”

  “No, he’s not supposed to leave for six weeks. Why would he leave early?” They glance at each other again, hesitation and concern draining their faces.

  “You have been in and out of consciousness for a little over three months, Addalynne. Gregory left two months ago,” Father answers slowly. They watch me with guarded expressions as his words sink in. At the moment, I don’t know what’s worse: what they have said or the way they’re watching me, as though they’re waiting for me to go completely mad. I turn away from them and look out the window.

  Three months. I have been asleep for three months. This seems completely impossible and yet I see it’s true. The evidence is right in front of me, scattered in shades of red and yellow on the leaves that should be completely green. Besides, I can feel bits and pieces of the last three months pulling on my mind—whispers of memories that dance to the forefront of my brain. There’s something else, too, something that’s demanding my attention, but every time I’m close to remembering it, it slips away. There’s a gnawing in my chest though, telling me something’s wrong. There’s something they’re keeping from me. What aren’t they saying?

  I close my eyes and try to clear out the fog in my brain. I have to make myself remember what my mind has tried to forget . . . I see Drake, he’s in our woods and he’s staring at me with a hauntingly broken expression.

  It all comes back, crashing in on me like a wave so powerful that I forget to breathe. I remember the anger. I remember the pain. I remember what my mind fought to conceal. Now I know why they’re being so cautious with their words. It’s not only my brother who joined the Kin
g’s Schild. If my brother is gone, so is Drake.

  * * *

  My family continues nursing me back to health as the weeks slowly pass. My entire body aches, and it takes quite some time for me to be able to perform the simplest of movements. I still can’t walk on my own, which is the most frustrating aspect of this entire ordeal. I have to rely on everyone else to help me get through my day, something I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. But at least Dr. Ellers says I won’t have to get used to it. He says I’ll be able to walk on my own eventually, that I just need time for my legs to get stronger.

  Over the last few weeks, there’s been a constant rotation of visitors, all of them wanting to do the same thing: hover over me and repeatedly ask how I’m doing. The most frequent visitors are Uncle Geoffrey and Mary. I don’t mind their visits, but I still wish they wouldn’t come. My uncle’s eyes again linger in sadness, which only amplifies the pain of Drake’s absence. Mary’s visits are better, but I can see the grief she’s in because of Gregory, which only reminds me that I lost them both.

  She asked about Gregory the other day, wanting to know if we had heard from him. I told her that my parents wrote to him, informing him of my recovery, but they had yet to receive a response. Thankfully, she didn’t press the issue, nor did she ask about Drake. But I could tell she wanted to. I don’t know what I’ll say if she ever does.

  The most surprising visitors I’ve had were Lord Vernold Berrenger and his son, Charles. They were kind and thankfully, didn’t stay long, but seeing Charles instantly brought back the memories and discomfort of the day of the Summer Festival. I hope they don’t come back.

  All of my visitors and family tell me that I’m making great progress, but in my opinion it’s not enough. I’m tired of being a prisoner in my own body. Day after day, I’m left with nothing to do besides repeat the information they’ve given me. I sort it out piece by piece, trying to put it together in an arrangement that makes sense, but no matter how hard I try, it never does.