Waiting for You

by Megan Derr

  Upon returning to the main room, she double-checked the doors were locked. “You’re certain you’ll be all right in here?”

  “Oh, certainly.” He winked. “I have a lot of practice with being confined to chambers.”

  Chuckling, Shanna finished braiding her hair and pinned it into a tight bun. “Where am I to meet Ahmla?”

  “Back of the castle, that strip of the curtain the guards never seem to bother with.”

  “They bothered when my mother was alive. Be careful, Highness.”

  “Heed your own words, my queen.” He blew her a kiss, and Shanna departed with a smile.

  Tugging a cap down over her hair, she slipped into her private office and slid out that window. The smell here wasn’t pleasant, as this was where all the castle refuse was collected to be hauled away by the night gardeners. Normally the royal chambers would not be anywhere near such a place, but the royal castle struggled to grow fast enough to accommodate the constant influx of inhabitants, which led to things like the queen-in-waiting having a private office overlooking the shit pile. Even with the window closed, she preferred to work almost anywhere else in the castle. Thankfully, the stench didn’t permeate the rest of her chambers, and once she was queen, she’d move to the royal suite.

  For the present, the office at least provided a place where nobody was to be found, not even guards, which made it extremely easy to climb to the roof, sneak across to her turret, and scale down into the yard. From there, darkness allowed her to slink past the guards on the wall, into the private stable her stepfather kept for his prized hunting stallions, up to the hayloft, and through the loose boards in the back.

  From there, she scaled the section of curtain the guards usually ignored because it was especially dark and only overlooked the sea. Climbing down the other side, she leapt the last few lengths, rolled to her feet, and brushed off her clothes.

  A figure slipped out of the shadows, dressed like her in simple, dark clothing meant for dirty work. “Your Highness.”

  “Master Ahmla. Thank you for putting yourself at great risk for me.” She looked up at him as he drew close enough she could feel his body heat. “I’ve done nothing to earn the loyalty you and His Highness have shown me.”

  “That is for us to decide, Highness. Shall we to your cave?”

  Nodding, swallowing anything else she might have said—not even entirely certain what she would, only that it would probably be foolish—Shanna led the way across the field behind the castle and down the steep, stone path that descended the cliffs to the rocky beach below.

  Chapter Three

  “So how did you come to be His Highness’s bodyguard?”

  Ahmla laughed softly. “My family is old, powerful, and close to the throne. My eldest sister was born to inherit, my next-eldest sister was born to lead armies, my brother was born to play politics, and I was born to be given as a gift to the throne.”

  Shanna froze, then tripped over a loose step and barely avoided landing on her face. Once she’d regained her footing, she turned around. “A gift? People aren’t gifts. Are you saying you’re a slave?”

  He laughed again, louder this time. “No, forgive me. I fear some nuances are lost between languages. It is the highest of honors to be what most other countries translate as ‘bodyguard.’ I’m afraid there’s no perfect translation. The literal translation is ‘giver of blood’ or sometimes ‘giver of life.’ At the age of five, I was fostered with the royal army to begin training as a soldier, since it takes decades to learn the things I have learned and much of them require the sort of memorization we possess only as children.” It was too dark to see him clearly, but the smile was in his voice. “At fifteen, I was given the choice to remain with the army, move to the elite forces, or become Kallaar’s bodyguard. Though His Highness is five years younger than me, and we were not well-acquainted then, I believed devoting my life to him would be worthwhile.”

  “So what’s a better explanation of what you are, if ‘bodyguard’ isn’t quite right?”

  Ahmla did not immediately reply, as they had come to the end of the rough, uneven steps and had to climb down the last bit of cliff where ocean and time and the odd raging storm had torn away the steps. Once they reached the sand and resumed walking, he answered the question. “The word encompasses elements of servant, protector, friend, and more. It is my sacred duty to exist for His Highness, to be all that he wants, and more importantly, to be all that he needs, even if that means going against what he wants. I fail in my duties only by allowing him to come to harm or die.”

  “So you’re a lifesworn.”

  “I don’t know that term.”

  Shanna smiled. “It’s an old, nearly ancient, term. I doubt even my mother knew it; she was not much for certain portions of history. Back when this kingdom was a far more violent, turbulent place, the old monasteries used to have military branches to protect traveling monks as they served the kingdom, either delivering the holy word, helping the sickly, injured, and elderly, or selling the goods the monks made. Over time, they would lend out some of these soldiers, and it became tradition for a soldier to serve a particular lady or lord their whole life. They served much the way you described, equal part friend, mentor, protector, priest… They came to be called lifesworn. Precisely how the tradition came to be, nobody really knows. There are hundreds of legends.”

  “You will have to tell Kallaar,” Ahmla said with a warm, fond chuckle. “He adores such tales. His tutors despaired of getting him to learn anything since he was so enamored of what they called ‘fanciful stories.’ I think if he were not a prince, he would gladly be a scholar. No doubt once he’s too old to do much else, he will drag the two of us to a monastery to be precisely that, though I hope they realize he will never take to their vows of celibacy.”

  “Celibacy?” Shanna wrinkled her nose. “Why would your monks require such a ridiculous vow?”

  “A discussion for another time perhaps, for I believe we are nearing your cave?”

  Shanna nodded and lapsed into silence.

  “I smell torch oil,” Ahmla murmured in her ear, making Shanna shiver, despite the fear coiling in her gut as she realized he was correct. “Is that typical?”

  She shook her head, not confident she could speak as quietly as Ahmla.

  “Stay here.”

  He slipped away, and how had she not noticed before how soundlessly he moved? Not that there was much sound to be made walking along wet sand, but as acutely as she’d listened, she should have heard something—the movement of his clothes, his armor, his sword. But he might as well have not been there, so light was his presence.

  Then he vanished into the cave. She stood in the dark, feeling far more afraid than she normally would. The tension that always made her shoulders ache climbed into her neck and down into her stomach. Who else would have been at her cave? Why? She’d been visiting this place since she was twelve and never had anyone else, save those she instructed, ever come here. But she supposed the more people she told, the more likely those people would also tell.

  Shanna rubbed her temples, thinking longingly of her bed—and not thinking about the handsome man she could have in it right now. The handsome men, while she was not thinking about fanciful, hopeless things.

  Just as she was on the verge of screaming simply to relieve the tension, Ahmla came back. “There are two dead people in there, one man, one woman. Both had their throats slit, and neither is carrying any personal effects. How many people were you expecting to speak with tonight, Highness?”

  “Two,” Shanna said quietly. “A man and a woman. They observe for me in the southern-most province, close to the border. Who would kill them?”

  “The man who attacked me, I assume.”

  “What?” Shanna slapped a hand over her mouth, then dropped it. “You might have mentioned that sooner! What has become of him?”

  “He’s dead. I wish I had been smart enough to keep him alive, but I am afraid that my reflexes often work
faster, and such a threat is to be completely removed.”

  Her breath hissed between her teeth. “I doubt he needs to be alive to tell me he acted on my stepfather’s orders. Would you drag the bodies out here so I can see them?”

  He bowed slightly and slipped away again. Shanna worried her lips and wished she was anywhere else in the world. But a queen did what a queen must, no matter how much she loathed or dreaded the task. Her mother had never been weak, and Shanna would not be either.

  Still, she had to clench her fingers in her dress to hide their trembling as the bodies were dragged out. The only other dead body she’d seen was her mother, and Shanna had been so grief-stricken it was hard to remember the details well. She preferred to remember her mother as she’d been alive: strong, capable, smiling even when her eyes were dark and sad, stern but affectionate, loving and loved.

  “Are you well, Highness?”

  Shanna nodded, straightening her shoulders and taking deep breaths to steady her roiling stomach. She looked at each body, eyes stinging as she recognized her two spies. Their throats had indeed been slit, the deed done so quickly their expressions gave away only a touch of surprise. “These are mine. Ani and Lemora. I don’t recognize the man who killed them, but my stepfather isn’t the sort to keep a regular killer on hand. That would leave too great a trail back to him.”

  Ahmla grunted. “What I know of your stepfather, he probably hires cheap but effective killers, then kills them when the deed is done. So he knows of your cave and your spies. Why kill them now?”

  “Because the stakes are higher, and he has so much more to lose. We sparred briefly this morning, over which suitor I would pick as consort. He knows I’m trying to squirm free of him with my marriage, and I know he’s trying to use it for his own ends. By killing my spies, he’s telling me I’m even more powerless than I thought.”

  Nodding, Ahmla knelt and rifled through the clothes of the dead assassin. He found nothing but a few daggers and a small bag of coins. “Twenty semark,” Ahmla said. “Ten semark a head—standard upfront payment for this kind of kill. The remaining eighty semark to be paid upon proof of completion. Your stepfather pays just enough not to anger the man he’s having hired, but doesn’t tip into overgenerous so the killer gets curious about the job and the person hiring him.”

  “He’s very good at walking that sort of middle ground.” Shanna started to say more, but floundered as the words didn’t come. She didn’t know what to say. There was too much, and none of it would make a difference.

  Ahmla ducked his head, but not before Shanna caught a wisp of understanding smile. “Do your people have anyone who will miss them and want the bodies?”

  “No. One is an orphan and never spoke of any friends or lovers. The other is estranged from family and has no one else. It made them excellent spies.” Shanna wished they’d been less excellent and had someone other than a weak princess to mourn them.

  “Then I’ll take care of these bodies. You return to the castle—and have a care. I do not imagine you will come to harm, but I do not want assumptions and carelessness to prove us fatally wrong.”

  Shanna nodded. “Thank you, Master Ahmla.”

  He waved a hand, and not knowing what else to say, Shanna departed and made the long, slow, and difficult climb up the cliffside and over the curtain. By the time she returned to her room, she was exhausted and wanted only a bath and to crawl into her warm bed.

  She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she jumped as someone said her name.

  “Apologies!” Kallaar said, smiling faintly. “You looked so concerned and inwardly focused, I did not know how to draw your attention without startling you, but I figured speaking would go better for me than touching.” He laughed. “When my eldest sister looked so, I once touched her arm and startled her so badly I wound up with a broken nose. She felt terrible, and I used that shamelessly to have her bring me dinner and keep me company until my nose looked better.”

  “Your family sounds marvelous,” Shanna replied quietly.

  His smile faded. Closing the distance between them, Kallaar took her hands in his. “What has gone wrong? Where is Ahmla?”

  Staring at their hands, heart twisting in her chest because it was the same thing her mother had done at least a thousand times, Shanna recounted what had transpired at the cave.

  Kallaar swore softly in Morentian, something about a camel’s testicles. Shanna had only ever seen pictures of camels in the books her mother had given her while teaching her Morentian. She gave another small, shaky laugh.

  He grinned. “I keep forgetting how well you know Morentian. I’d have gotten away with that with most people.”

  “I think you get away with too much with too many.”

  “My mother often says the same thing, but she gives in as much as anyone,” Kallaar replied, looking not even the slightest bit repentant. He lifted her hands and kissed her fingers. “I am sorry your night was so terrible. I wish we’d been able to prevent their deaths. We will be more on guard. Would you like me to call in further assistance? I can bring in shadows of my own.”

  “I fear that as careful and smart as I know your people could be, at this point my stepfather would still see and only go to even more violent lengths. We’ve both been waiting for this moment a long time. I knew he would be ruthless, and that it was not only me who would suffer, and still I did not anticipate this. I won’t cause more deaths if they can be prevented. Please, be careful.”

  “We will, dear queen.” He kissed her fingers again and then let them go and stepped in closer to cup her face. His kiss was soft and achingly sweet, hurting and soothing all at once. Because there were things she wanted that she could never have, and he and Ahmla reminded her of every one of them. Because at least for a little while she would not be so alone or feel so helpless.

  The sound of the window opening drew their attention, and they watched Ahmla climb inside. In the well-lit room, he looked mussed and tired. There were streaks of dirt and sand on his face, and the cloth that had wrapped around his head was gone, leaving his hair a messy tumble that would have looked adorable in happier circumstances. His clothes were wet and covered in sand and dirt and smears of what she suspected was blood.

  After crossing the room, Shanna wiped his face. “I’m so sorry that agreeing to help me resulted in such a grisly and unhappy task. Thank you for doing it for me. I am in your debt, Master Ahmla.”

  “There is no debt, my queen.” For the barest moment, he seemed to turn slightly into the press of her hand, eyes flickering. Shanna’s heart twisted painfully, eyes stinging with tears she was only barely able to blink away.

  Then he gathered himself and stepped back. “The matter is tended. The bodies will not be found. I dislike doing your stepfather’s dirty work for him, but no good would have come from leaving the assassin’s body. I am sorry again for your lost associates. I did retrieve papers left behind in the cave. They were in a water-treated satchel—that I left with the bodies.” From behind his back, he pulled out and offered a thick sheaf of papers, some clearly opened, the broken seals hanging from the edges.

  “Thank you.” She was momentarily caught in his gaze, his eyes so dark a gray they nearly looked black. “I…” Would she always be at such a loss of words? “Whatever you say, your kindness should be repaid.”

  Ahmla shook his head, but a smile tugged at his mouth, something hot and tempting flickering ever so briefly in his eyes. Then it was gone. Maybe she’d just imagined it. Probably she had. What were the odds both men would want her? She was good-looking, and powerful, and clearly willing to play with like-minded people, but bodyguards—good ones like Ahmla, at any rate—did their duties and kept well away from such things as fucking nobles, as that would always bring any repercussions down on the bodyguard. Never mind that was often the sort of behavior that ultimately got people hurt or killed.

  But she wouldn’t mind spinning fanciful thoughts about Ahmla and Kallaar another night, when her mood was m
ore restored and capable of such things.

  Shanna brushed one last bit of sand from Ahmla’s cheek and stepped back before she did something stupid and futile. Kallaar joined them, and she said, “I am deeply grateful for your support and help. I hope you make it back to your rooms safely.”

  “Eventually, we will,” Ahmla said with a sigh.

  Kallaar cast him a look.

  “What do you mean, eventually?” she asked.

  Giving Ahmla another of those looks, Kallaar said, “We are going to take care of one of those men on the list you gave us earlier. He is leaving tomorrow to attend problems at his estate, so tonight is our best opportunity to speak with him.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that—and I really don’t think—”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Shanna said.

  Kallaar scowled. “You asked us to take care of this for you.”

  “I asked you to help me, and since we’re all here, why not go with you? I am the one asking you to do these things, and I won’t ask anyone to do something I’m not willing to do myself. Unless you can explain how I’d get in your way, I don’t see why I should just sit here and wait for you to do all the work.”

  It was Ahmla who scowled that time. “We are here to serve you, my queen. Let us serve.”

  “You serving doesn’t equate to me doing nothing,” Shanna countered. “Will I be in your way?”

  “Yes,” Kallaar and Ahmla chorused.

  “You’re both lying, and it’s abysmal I can tell, given you lied to me for years and I never suspected.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Are we going to continue arguing nonsensically or shall we get on with our evening?”

  Kallaar heaved another sigh and shared a long look with Ahmla, having some silent exchange that sent a pang through her. What would it be like to know someone so well that words weren’t necessary to have an entire conversation?