Waiting for You

by Megan Derr

  “I really couldn’t.” Shanna shook her head sharply when he tried to say more. “Ready for the ball tonight?”

  “Aren’t I always, sweetness?” Penli obligingly launched into a discussion of his clothes, the dull or awful things everyone else was wearing, and who he would be dancing with or snubbing that night. Shanna let herself be pulled into the familiar game of court politics and gossip, forgetting for a little while the much deadlier game she would be playing later that night.

  Unfortunately, the day turned busy after she and Penli parted ways, and the hours passed far too quickly.

  Normally, she looked forward to the beautiful gowns she wore on such occasions, when her day-to-day clothes were more about the work she did, from sitting in chairs all day to mucking out stables when she needed a reprieve from the stifling castle.

  But even her diadem, the very same her mother had worn for her courtship, could not cheer her. Looking in the mirror long enough to make certain all was as it should be, she thanked the people who’d helped her dress and met her stepfather in the hallway.

  Giving only a nod in greeting, she took the arm he offered, and they headed for the great ballroom.

  From there it was introduction, conversations, dancing, wine, and the same all over again. For dinner, they all moved to the grand dining room, where she drank more wine than was probably judicious, and then it was back to the ballroom.

  Throughout, she’d kept strictly to propriety regarding her suitors, though it had been more difficult than she liked to remain formal with Kallaar. On the edge of the dance floor, garnering more than a few looks himself, Ahmla watched them impassively.

  Shanna hesitated a moment, but the desire to ask overrode the wisdom of not asking questions she didn’t want to hear the answer to. “I asked about you earlier, Highness, but does Master Ahmla have someone back home who is missing him?

  “No, there is no lover back home. Only his family, and they’re used to the two of us traipsing off for one reason or another.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m not very good at staying in one place. My father, I am told, was much the same at my age. Even after he married my mother, it was some years before his wandering feet grew still. He is lucky my mother is not the kind of spouse to be bothered by that, for many are, or so is my impression from all the gossip and other talk I overhear.”

  Shanna laughed. “I think my mother would have been most displeased by a spouse who was always absent. I think I’d be put out only that I got left behind.”

  “I do not think it would be possible to leave you behind, my queen,” Kallaar said softly, and as the dance came to an end, he lifted her hands and kissed her fingers.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, angrily ignoring the twisting lurch in her chest, Shanna replied, “Thank you for the dance, Highness.”

  “The honor was, and will always be, mine.” He let her go, bowed, and left, and Shanna finished the night by dancing once more with each of the men her stepfather had bid her choose between. All of them spineless or loathsome.

  Finally, as the bell tolled the midnight hour and her stepfather gave her a look, she climbed the stairs to the first landing, signaled the musicians to stop, and waited until the room had gone still and quiet. “Dear suitors and guests, I am most honored you have come all this way to attend me and offer yourselves as potential consorts. Each of you is wonderful in your own way, and ordinarily I fear the decision would be an impossible one. But under the circumstances, my mind and heart could go only in one direction. As everyone knows, my mother forged a close friendship with King Jamir of Morentia. It was one of her unfulfilled wishes that we further strengthen that bond, and if it is the final wish of my mother’s that I can grant, then I gladly do so. I name as my betrothed Prince Kallaar bella Fontare of Morentia.”

  The room exploded with noise, a mixture of approval, disapproval, and confusion. Kallaar ignored all of it as he thrust through the crowd and swiftly climbed the steps. He took the hands she held and dragged her close, leaning up to kiss her soundly. His lips were hot, eager, familiar, and dreaded. She wanted to hold him close and shove him away all at once. Since she couldn’t do the latter, Shanna wrapped her arms around him and returned the ardent kiss, let herself pretend for a moment that it was real, that she could have this and more, that she could be a happy queen with a loving consort and lifesworn.

  That she was more than an obstacle to the throne. More than nonsense. More than always so damned alone and afraid.

  For as long as the moment lasted, it was sweet and hot and perfect.

  But reality returned far too soon, as it always did. She drew back and held fast to Kallaar’s arm and headed down the stairs to face the crowd, fearfully avoiding her stepfather’s angry gaze throughout.

  An exhausting, agonizing, terrifying two hours later, she was finally free. After making a show of kissing Kallaar goodnight, she let her bodyguards fall around her and headed back to her suite.

  But once they were alone in a small hallway, one of them grabbed her by the hair, sending her diadem clattering to the stone floor.

  Shanna screamed, but the guard clapped a hand around her mouth and scooped her up like a pile of sweetgrass to be dropped in a dragon’s trough and carried her away.

  She wasn’t remotely surprised when he eventually dropped her on the floor of her stepfather’s study. He and her other three guards remained close. “You could have simply had them escort me here.”

  Her stepfather said nothing, merely jerked his head toward the fireplace, where three guards restrained a stone-faced Penli.

  The knot of fear in Shanna’s stomach tightened. She slowly stood—and snarled when two of the guards grabbed her arms. “Unhand me!

  They ignored her. Shanna shifted her ire back to her stepfather. “Let Penli go. He has nothing to do with this.”

  “He’s a weakness to be exploited, darling.” Mercen jerked his head for the guards to bring Penli closer, stopping them when they were ten or so paces from Shanna. He caught Penli’s chin between his thumb and finger. “Such a handsome, beautiful man, the pride and joy of your family. Not only for your mind and political acumen, but for your talent with a bow. Your exquisite military history—such a shame you resigned. I could use a man of your unique skillset. But I admit you’re quite the specimen on the archery field. That silly contest you win every year happens in two weeks, does it not?”

  Penli gave a bare nod.

  Mercen let him go roughly. “I believe your parents are hoping your archery skills will be the last bit to impress the prince they’ve been courting, correct?” When Penli didn’t reply, Mercen backhanded him. “Correct?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Father, don’t,” Shanna pleaded. “Penli isn’t involved. If you’re angry with me, then punish me, not him.”

  Mercen cast her a smile full of venom, his dark eyes gleaming like beetle shells.

  Penli gave her a reassuring smile, which made everything worse. He should be angry. He should hate her. But Penli had always been too kind for his own good.

  Mercen gave another sharp jerk of his head, and the men holding Penli snapped his right arm. Penli screamed, then promptly threw up all over the floor. They set him on the floor in his vomit, where he sat, eerily quiet, while carefully holding his broken arm.

  “You fucking bastard!” Shanna snarled. “I’ll kill you if it’s the last thing I do!”

  Mercen backhanded her so hard, her teeth cut the inside of her cheek. She spat the blood in his face.

  Sneering, he said, “You will call off the engagement with Prince Kallaar. You will choose Prince Dorni instead. If you do not, tomorrow Lord Penli will join your spies at the bottom of the ocean, and your childish prince and his smarmy bodyguard will be sent home battered and broken and incapable of interfering further. Do you understand me?”

  Angry tears spilled down Shanna’s cheeks. “Yes.”

  He narrowed his eyes but didn’t press. “Take her to her suite and
lock her in. She’s not to leave it until breakfast tomorrow, when she’ll fix her foolish mistakes. Take Penli to the healing hall. Tell them he had too much wine and took a tumble.” He looked at Shanna. “Do as you’re told, and do it nicely, and I’ll make certain Penli’s marriage prospect becomes fact.”

  Shanna said nothing, only cast Penli another apologetic look before the guards dragged her away.

  Once she was alone, she sat on her bed and cried. Damn it, the engagement to Kallaar should have worked. Why had they not anticipated he might have reacted this way? Anger, yes, that he would want to lash out, yes. But this quickly and brutally?

  What else hadn’t they thought of that he might do? She didn’t dare find out.

  As the tears eased, her mind shifted from despair to formulating a plan. The hardest parts were getting out of her room and then the castle. Once she was well away, it would be a thousand times harder for them to find her and drag her back.

  Because now, running was her only option. There was no way she could go through with the original plan. If she tried, Penli would die, and Mercen’s men would catch her, Kallaar, and Ahmla long before they could get to safety. Even if they snuck out tonight, she didn’t anticipate they’d get away with it. No, running was definitely the right idea, but she would have to do it alone. If she wasn’t here, nobody could be hurt or killed to force her compliance. The plan was far from the best, but it was all she had left. Once she was twenty-five, she could return, and there would be nothing her stepfather could do to prevent her taking the throne. And by then, she’d be in a position to challenge him.

  How was she going to escape, though? It must be now, or it would be never. But Mercen’s soldiers would be watching closely, so her usual method of escaping the castle wouldn’t work, and she had no backup plans.

  Well, provisions first. Food she would have to obtain somewhere else, but clothes and other miscellany she had here. Discarding her dress, she swiftly pulled on travel clothes, then donned a dressing robe to hide them. After taking satchels and saddlebags from a wardrobe, she started packing.

  The sound of the main door unlocking made her jump. Shoving everything into the wardrobe, she left her bedroom just as a guard and three servants stepped in. “A midnight snack, and maids to see you’re comfortable,” the guard said, giving her a hard look over the servants’ shoulders. “Per His Majesty’s instructions.”

  Shanna was surprised to see her usual maids; she would have thought Mercen would send women more under his control. Or maybe these three had been all along…though Shanna found that hard to believe, given how kind and loyal they’d been to her over the years.

  “Highness, we’ve come to help,” said Lia. “Lord Penli said to tell you that he can guess what you are going to do, and he will send letters to keep you apprised as often as he safely can. For now, I am going to trade places with you.”

  Shanna stared, bewildered.

  “We brought food,” said Gwyn. “Please, Highness, there isn’t much time.”

  “Why would you help me? If my stepfather finds out…”

  All three women scoffed and sneered. “No one minds the staff, not even him—except you, Highness. Your mother was queen, and you should be queen next. Nobody wants him in power longer than is unavoidable. Come on, time is running out.”

  Shanna nodded and ran off to get her things. Kari buried it all in a bundle of dirty laundry, and Gwyn managed to hide Shanna’s sword beneath her skirts. Shanna changed clothes with Lia, burying her travel clothes in still more laundry. “Will you be all right?”

  Lia smiled. “I’ll leave when the guards change. They won’t know they were played for fools until far too late, and they’ll never admit it because otherwise they’ll for certain lose their heads. Now go.”

  Shanna gathered her towering pile of laundry and followed the other women out. They chatted and flirted with the guards, and every second spent lingering, Shanna wanted to scream or laugh hysterically. Finally, finally, the women stopped flirting and fell into place on either side of Shanna as the three of them left, threading through the servants’ passages and into the bustling hub of the kitchen.

  From there, they hastened her through the laundry room and out the back, into a foul-smelling dark space behind the stables. Gwyn slipped away and returned a few minutes later with a horse and everything Shanna needed to ready it. Once she had dressed in her travel clothes and everything was in place, including her saddlebags and extra satchels, and additional food they’d somehow obtained, she swung into the saddle. From her jacket pocket, she drew out a small bag of coins and tossed it to them. “See that’s split between the three of you. Give Penli my love. Thank you for everything.”

  They bid her farewell, and with a parting wave, Shanna turned and rode off, bound for the one place nobody would ever think to look for her, save the best friend who’d been nothing but understanding when they’d broken his arm. Hopefully Penli would be all right.

  And Kallaar and Ahmla no longer had to concern themselves—hurt themselves—to protect a woman who may as well be a stranger.

  Fighting back tears as she left her home and everything she cared about, Shanna pushed the horse to a faster pace and vanished into the night.

  Chapter Five

  She traveled until the sun rose and then made herself keep going. The only advantage she had was staying ahead of her enemies—and two possibly irate allies, since however reluctant they were to help her, they’d never failed to be anything but wonderful.

  When dizziness and dubious vision finally got the better of her, Shanna pushed on just long enough to reach a dense cluster of trees deep in the snowy woods where she was unlikely to be found. Especially since the snow had resumed falling and would soon cover her tracks.

  After tending and feeding her horse, longing for a dragon that could have traveled farther and faster, she laid out a bedroll and bundled up tightly in her cloak and a blanket. Though it was tempting to make a fire, she resisted. The less she did to risk drawing attention to herself, the better.

  She woke to something poking and prodding at her, jerking up with a cry and reaching for the knife at her belt—and let out a cracked sob as she realized it was only her horse, cranky from the cold and stillness. Groaning as she worked at her stiff joints, Shanna rose and shook the snow from her blanket before bundling it back up into her saddlebag along with her bedroll. After drinking a few precious sips of water, and giving some to her horse, she mounted and rode off.

  The day was long and tedious, made all the worse by the ever-present fear of being caught. Shanna was fairly confident they would not guess where she was going, but they could still find her while seeking other places since the path she needed did not diverge from this main road until she was past the Blue Hills.

  She stopped only to tend the horse and eat, resisting a thousand temptations to stop at the villages and homesteads she passed.

  Eventually, however, she grew low enough on food she had no choice. But surely after seven days with no trouble, she was safe enough?

  Only one way to find out. Swallowing her nerves, at the next sign of civilization Shanna took the road into a cluster of houses that barely qualified as villages, mostly comprised of a blacksmith, a temple, and a few other public buildings.

  At the temple, Shanna secured and tended her horse before climbing the stairs and slipping inside. It was blessedly warm inside, nearly making her whimper.

  A priest stepped quietly from one of the doors along the side. He stilled as he saw her and closed the book he’d had open, smoothly tucking it away as he approached her. “Gods be with you, mistress. How can I be of service?”

  “Gods be with you, brother. I seek shelter for the night and would like to know where I can buy foodstuffs for myself and my horse. My supplies have run low. I need to be off again tomorrow, ideally.”

  “Shelter is easy enough. We’ve beds aplenty. I think we can manage the food as well, but I’ll need to speak with Father Peller before taking
anything from the pantries. But come, come, I’ll get you warm and settled and a meal for tonight.”

  Shanna smiled. “Thank you, that would be wonderful.”

  The priest led her through another door and down a short hall to an enormous room filled almost entirely with beds, the kind she mostly saw in barracks with one stacked on top of another. But the front third of the room was given over to chairs and tables, a few bookshelves filled with books, games, and other ways to pass the time.

  Thanking the priest again after he’d shown her to a bed, Shanna dropped her saddlebags on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed and simply enjoyed not moving for a little while.

  When she finally felt a bit rested, she rose and went in search of the baths. The water was tepid, but thankfully not frigid, and by the time she was done, Shanna was refreshed enough to actually feel hungry.

  The priest was waiting for her in the sitting area and escorted her to the dining hall with a smile. Minus a few other priests who looked more asleep than awake, there was no one else there.

  Once she had food and was seated at one of the three long tables, the priest sat across from her and said, “Father Peller has approved some supplies for you.”

  “I’m grateful, and I certainly have coin to donate. I wish I could stay longer to do some work as well, but I’m afraid my time is constrained.”

  The priest smiled and covered one of her hands with his own. “We are here to help, not to make money, mistress. Enjoy the rest of your meal and sleep well. I’ll have the supplies for you in the morning.”

  Shanna smiled and thanked him, and once he’d gone she dug into her stew and bread with relish. By the time she was done eating, she was yawning so hard and frequently her eyes watered. After turning in her dirty dishes, she dragged herself back to her bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

  She woke in the night needing to piss and stumbled groggily to a chamber pot. Upon returning to bed, she’d just gotten comfortable again when she heard footsteps—a lot of them, heavy and rattling, along with voices that carried an unmistakable sharp city accent. Soldiers. Damn it. How had they found her? So much for kindly priests: the man who’d helped her must have recognized her and sent a message or something.