[Fairytale 02] - Asleep (2013)

by Elizabeth Darcy

  “Jess, listen to me.” The steel in her father’s voice surprised her, and she looked up at him. “Ellaria will play you like a fiddle if you’re not careful. If you want to get Dev back safely, you will have to keep your wits about you.”

  “I’m sorry. I know,” Jess said. She deflated, wanting nothing more than to collapse, and her father steadied her. “The more I try to keep my cards close to my chest, the more transparent I become. Everyone is playing us, from Ellaria to Mahlia to Beland, and it’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Omar said, putting his arms around his daughter. “Don’t overestimate your own importance, my love.” His voice was wry. “You’re as much a pawn in all this as Dev.”

  Allowing herself a moment of weakness, Jess remained in her father’s arms, holding onto him as she had when she’d been a small girl, believing her father could protect her from her every fear. Then she took a deep breath, forced herself to move away, and drew herself back up to her full height. “There is some good to come of this business with Mahlia, and that’s her promise of forty thousand troops, provided we can persuade Beland to assist us as well.”

  “Forty thousand?” Farah looked astonished. “I’d no idea she had such numbers.”

  “Nor I,” Omar said. “She must keep them well hidden.”

  “Let’s hope Beland can be bought as well. I need his forty thousand men,” Jess said grimly.

  Chapter 25

  When Dev woke the morning after his ride with Jess, his heart thundered in his chest, his palms were damp no matter how many times he wiped them, and his stomach churned. In short, he was a mess.

  I’m in love with Princess Jessmyn, he thought in wonder, for perhaps the millionth time that day. It seemed so unbelievable and, yet, it was true. Without his noticing, Jess had somehow stolen his heart.

  He had wanted to kiss her, right there on the windswept hills, their impatient horses dancing beneath them. But what if she rejected him? He knew she saw him as a friend, but if she felt anything more than that, he couldn’t say. The thought of the potential rejection made him sick to his stomach, not just because he feared that she might not feel for him as he felt for her, but also because he feared losing her friendship. Jess had always been the only one who’d ever really tried to understand him. She seemed able to see into the innermost corners of his thoughts, without his even being aware that he had given her access to them. It was like she could look right into his soul and, whatever she saw there, she found it worthy of her attention.

  By about his fifth outfit, even Dev’s normally unflappable valet began to look exasperated. Nothing seemed to suit Dev, and he wondered if his own worries, his own doubts about himself, were the real cause of his anxiety. He’d never given much thought to how he dressed, what he said, but now he found himself analyzing everything, trying his best to predict how Jess might react.

  “Good morning, Dev,” she greeted as he took his place next to her at the table to break his fast. The great hall was full of people, including their fathers, but he felt as if the rest of the world had disappeared. Jess wore a graceful gown of pale lavender and her hair hung loose around her, held back by a simple silver circlet. Hoping he wasn’t staring in a conspicuous manner, Dev drank in the sight of her.

  “Good morning,” he said, his voice thick.

  She didn’t appear to notice. “Thank you again for the ride yesterday. It was nice to get out and take some air.” Her eyes twinkled, and he felt certain she was as tired of the closed-in atmosphere of the Moritanian royal palace as he was.

  “I know what you mean,” he responded, earning him a smile that made his breath catch in his throat. He took a quick look around but no one seemed to be paying them any mind. “Still game to sneak away again?”

  “Am I ever,” she said, pushing her plate aside and fixing her attention on him. “What do you have in mind?”

  “That depends. Are you in the mood for mischief today? Perhaps we could find some trees, test our acrobatic skills.” Raising his hand, he showed her the ring she’d given him, the one he never took off.

  Groaning, she blushed. “I like to think I’ve put that sort of reckless stupidity behind me. Besides, what sort of hypocrite would I be if I couldn’t take my own advice to look before I leap?”

  “Oh, Jess, you disappoint me,” he teased.

  “This is why I need to be careful around you, Devaran,” she said with mock severity. “You know too many of my secrets.”

  “Not as many as I would like.” The words left his mouth of their own accord and he looked at her in horror, wondering if she could guess what was behind them.

  “Oh no. I know enough not to give you any additional ammunition against me,” she said, smiling and shaking her head.

  “How about a picnic?” he asked, eager to conceal his gaffe. “A little food, a little quiet, some time to just relax and not worry about royal protocol for a while.”

  “A picnic! That sounds like just the thing.” She looked as if she relished the idea.

  “I think I know the perfect spot. I spied it while we were out riding. Shall we meet where we talked yesterday?”

  “I’ll be there at noon.” He bit his tongue before he could tell her that noon couldn’t come soon enough.

  In between boring meetings Dev snuck around the castle, procuring supplies for their picnic. He made up an excuse to explain his absence to his father, then he set out on his horse. The stallion could sense his agitation, and he danced under Dev, snorting and tossing his head.

  “Oh, go on then,” Dev said, easing on the reins. His horse leapt forward, and Dev was temporarily distracted from his impatience by the hard ride.

  “Daredevil Dev,” Jess teased as he reined in next to her. His heart dropping, he studied her face but saw no sign of disapproval. In fact, her smile was as bright as ever, and he allowed himself the hope that she was just as happy to spend time with him as he was to spend it with her.

  “I was in a hurry.”

  “To run from dull meetings?”

  “Something like that.” He grinned, hoping to disarm her.

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “What?” he asked, his pulse pounding so loudly in his ears it was difficult to hear.

  “I think you were practicing in the hopes that you might be able to beat me the next time we race. It’s a fruitless hope, of course, but I wouldn’t want to crush your spirits.”

  “My lady, you wound me,” Dev cried, clutching his chest, and she laughed.

  “So are we to have a picnic or was that just your means of tricking me into another race?”

  “Oh, we are to have the picnic,” Dev said, opening a saddlebag and showing her the bread and bottle of wine tucked into it. “As for the race, the day is yet young.”

  “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

  “It’s one of my most endearing qualities.”

  “You have endearing qualities?”

  Making a face at her, Dev gave his horse the reins and they took off. He could just make out the sound of Jess’s indignant cry as she raced after him. After fifteen minutes of hard riding, Dev found the spot he’d told her about. High on a hill, a small copse of trees stood. They could hear sheep bleating off in the distance, but the trees screened them, giving them a sense of privacy.

  “I feel almost like I did when I was a child and I found an excellent hiding spot,” he confessed as he spread a blanket on the ground and began unpacking his stash.

  “It is like that, isn’t it? Should I expect to find Tanvir lurking behind one of the trees?”

  Dev laughed. “I wouldn’t discount it entirely. He is supposed to be back home with my mother, but you know how he loves to catch me in the act of shirking my duties.”

  “Perhaps it’s not all bad to shirk duty once in a while,” Jess offered. She unclasped the brooch holding her riding cloak and spread it over her horse. She still wore the same gown he’d seen her in that morning, and th
e sunlight made her look particularly radiant. Catching him looking, she smiled and went to rummage in her saddlebag. “I’ve brought a contribution to this picnic.”

  As she held it out to him, he gasped. “No! That can’t be—”

  “The special curd our cook makes.” She grinned. “Yes, in fact, that’s exactly what it is.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered that I like it.” He was truly touched. His fingers brushed against hers as he took the small pot and he looked up, catching a fleeting expression on her face that he could not quite decipher.

  “I brought something else as well.” She pulled a small silver flute out of her saddlebag, and he smiled.

  “You’re going to play for me? That’s an unexpected pleasure.”

  “Playing makes me feel like I’m home, like Lyrane isn’t so far away after all.”

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering about her statement. She made herself comfortable on the blanket and tuned her instrument while he laid out their picnic. When he finished she looked at him questioningly and he nodded. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and soft, silvery notes shimmered in the air. He’d heard her play before, when they’d both been younger and her parents had wanted her to show off her skills, but he’d never heard her play just for him, and he wondered if he was alone in feeling an air of increased intimacy.

  His own eyes fell closed as he let the melody sweep him away. He knew the song. It was a traditional Lyranian folksong about a king mourning his lost love, and he could hear the sadness in every note Jess played. Opening his eyes, he watched her play, saw how the music transported her.

  “You do belong in Lyrane,” he said when she finished. His voice caught, and he hoped she didn’t notice. “You would miss the music.”

  “I would,” she confessed. “But I could always make my own.”

  “But it wouldn’t be the same.”

  “No, perhaps not.” Her voice trembled, and he reached out to take her hand. “But maybe I could learn to make a new sort of music, a better sort. Have you…have you ever thought of learning to play?”

  Startled, his mouth fell open and he stared at her. “No, I…it hadn’t ever occurred to me.”

  “I’m sorry, I just…” She tried to pull her hand away from his but he held onto it.

  “I would learn. I would make music. I would do anything for you,” he said.

  Time seemed to stop as she raised her eyes to his. He hadn’t anticipated telling her like this, but he suddenly knew the moment was right. He understood why she raced horses with him, why she wanted to have a picnic with him, why she wanted to know if he would learn to play.

  “And I would leave Lyrane for you,” she whispered.

  Overcome, he stared at her, drowning in her eyes. He gently took her face in his hands. As her eyelids drifted down, he closed the distance between them, lowering his mouth to hers. She shivered at the touch of their lips, and he didn’t know if it was in response to his own body’s shuddering or if she too felt something deep and profound envelope the two of them, pulling them down into its warmth. In that moment his whole life made sense, and he clung to it, to her, never wanting to let go.

  Chapter 26

  Jess was just about to call for her maids to help her dress for dinner when there was a tap at her door. Sighing, she pushed her dirty hair back from her forehead and hoped it wasn’t Mahlia, come to engage in some more intrigue.

  “Tanvir,” Jess said when she saw who stood outside her door. She stepped aside and studied his face as he entered. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes that sent a flood of relief through her. “Beland agreed to the negotiations.”

  “Yes, he did,” Tanvir said, not bothering to hide his own relief. “A lot of haggling was required, but we eventually managed to make him an offer with which he was at least satisfied, if not entirely happy. I suspect he’s as canny as we’d feared and that he intended to wait and see which way the wind was blowing with regard to Ellaria.”

  “If he’s as canny as he thinks he is, then perhaps he’s canny enough to understand that we’re far more likely to honor our agreements than Ellaria is,” Jess said, not bothering to hide her disgust for Beland.

  A grim smile crossed Tanvir’s face. “That may be what ultimately persuaded him to negotiate with us. Beland may be capable of seeing past his own aspirations and avarice to acknowledge that the woman attempting to usurp the Moritanian throne would probably have no scruples about stabbing him in the back as well.”

  “He will declare his support at the war council tonight, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “That means Mahlia will as well. She negotiated a marriage agreement with my parents, but she told me she could not honor the agreement unless Beland were to throw his support behind us as well—for the good of her Realm, of course.”

  “Of course,” Tanvir said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “There is some sense to what she says, I’ll grant her that. But it is frustrating to try to reason with those who are so blinded by their own concerns they can’t perceive the greater threat.”

  “Doing battle with brains is more exhausting than battling with steel,” Jess grumbled.

  Tanvir laughed and shook his head. “You speak truth. Give me a ponderous tome or a melee over this political intrigue.”

  “How many men has Beland promised us?”

  “Thirty thousand.”

  A slow smile spread over Jess’s face. “I suppose he won’t be pleased when he discovers that Mahlia has promised us forty thousand.”

  Eyes widening, Tanvir said, “I had no idea she had such numbers.”

  “None of us did, which means we’ve perhaps been too lax in the attention we’ve paid Deshira.”

  “Indeed. So that gives us seventy thousand troops in addition to our eighty thousand. If Ellaria were to arm every last man, woman, and child in Moritan, we still have the clear advantage.” He looked satisfied, but Tanvir was too grounded in practicalities to let their superior numbers make him overconfident. Still, it lifted a considerable weight from her shoulders to know they would march to battle with such numbers.

  Though she’d been preparing for it from the moment Dev had been taken, the reality that she was going to war penetrated the all-consuming, ceaseless worry Jess had been feeling, and she slumped against the wall. She needed the support. Taking a shaky breath, she clasped her trembling hands together as the tension she’d felt over the games they’d been playing with Corland and Deshira was replaced by the stark reality that there was nothing left now but to succeed in freeing Dev or to fail utterly and lose everything.

  “I’m frightened too,” Tanvir said, his voice quiet.

  Startled, Jess looked up to find him studying her with concern, and she made a helpless gesture. “I don’t know, Tanvir. It’s like…it’s like I can’t focus on rescuing Dev. I can focus on every detail of planning that rescue, but now that the time to face the actual rescue draws near, I…”

  “It’s all right to be frightened.” He put an arm around Jess and she leaned against him, grateful for his support. “We can use our fear to help us maintain our focus. Besides, Jess, I know what the ballads claim about you, but I also know they aren’t true. Forgive me if I wound your warrior’s pride, but this can’t be the first time you’ve been frightened to ride into battle.”

  She didn’t even try to deny it. Why should she? She needed her troops to believe she was fearless, but there was no shame in showing her vulnerability to the man who would be her brother. “I’ve never had so much to lose.”

  “I know.” They stood quietly for a few minutes, then Tanvir gave her a gentle embrace. “I should go now. You need to dress for this evening. We can do this, Jess. We will do this.”

  When her maids arrived Jess put herself in their capable hands, sitting passively while they bathed her, brushed her hair, dressed her in vibrant silks. Her mind whirled and, though she tried her best not to let her thoughts go there, she w
as powerless to prevent the flood of horrible images her brain conjured up whenever it touched on the possibility of failure. Closing her eyes, Jess fought back the tears that seared against her lids.

  She couldn’t really remember when she’d begun to love Dev. She could remember the day she’d confessed it clear as a bell, but she couldn’t remember when the feeling had begun. It was as if she’d always loved him, as if from the first moment she’d seen him, when he’d been that cocky little boy astride his horse, she’d loved him. He was such a part of her life that trying to separate herself from him was impossible.

  Leaving Lyrane and its music had terrified her, but now she understood that what she feared was not the silence itself, but the way the silence permitted her mind to roam free. When she was with Dev that silence was filled with thoughts of him, with hopes for their future, with an appreciation for all she had. Without him she would still be Jess, would still become queen of Lyrane and do her best to be a wise, just ruler, but her life would be a mere shadow of what it would be with him. Jess had always feared the shadows, and it was torture to think that her own failure could be the very thing to give the shadows sway.

  Dinner was another elaborate affair for which Jess had little patience, and she gripped her fork and knife with white knuckles. At first she tried to smile and talk, but she couldn’t maintain the act for long. The only thing she could think about was her need to find Ellaria, to make her pay for what she had done.

  “Princess Jessmyn, might we have the honor of escorting you to the war council?” a smooth, unwelcome voice asked when the meal ended at last.

  “Thank you, Lord Beland, Your Majesty,” Jess said, biting the inside of her cheek.

  An unnatural fire lit the boy king’s eyes, and Jess almost curled her lips in distaste as he took her arm, leading her from the great hall with Beland following a few paces behind. Toran’s cheeks looked feverish. “A real war council,” he breathed. “War is what brings kings true glory. All the best ballads are sung about the feats of kings on the battlefields.”