by Dawn Brower
Susanna sighed. “You’re young and foolish.” Elodie lifted her shift, removed it, and handed it to Susanna. She tossed it on the floor and continued to chastise Elodie. “Aye, you have a right to do as you please, but they’re dangerous, these lessons.”
Susanna grew up alongside her and was a mere three months older than Elodie. She’d been groomed to be a maid since she started to walk. At first, she’d been Elodie’s playmate, but that changed once she could be trained. No one knew her better than Susanna did.
“It’s even more hazardous for me to be ignorant and unskilled. I’m to be queen soon, and I refuse to be a useless monarch.”
It was an old argument between them—one that would never be settled. Susanna believed she’d be better off letting her guard protect her. Living in a tower surrounded by men dictating her every move had never appealed to her.
“So you’ve explained on more than one occasion,” Susanna said. “But you were almost caught this time. What would you have done if the queen had found you instead of me? How many times do you think you’ve almost been caught?” She raised a brow. “Today wasn’t the first time.”
Elodie’s mouth fell open in surprise. “How long have you known what I’ve been doing?”
“Since the first,” Susanna said. “You’re welcome.”
She should never have doubted her maid. Susanna had always been on her side, even when she disagreed. “Thank you,” Elodie said. “Do you have any idea what Fiona wants?”
Susanna shrugged. “I don’t know, but they are preparing for guests. From the amount of activity, I’d say they’re special ones too.”
Elodie tilted her head. “My birthday celebration is soon. It’s probably guests that are arriving early for that.” She blew out a breath. “Fiona will want to discuss comportment and how I’m a horrible princess. I can’t wait until I can ignore her constant lectures.”
Susanna picked up the gown Elodie had tossed across a mirror and helped her put it on. After all the laces were tied, she said emphatically, “You don’t like wearing gowns, but you’ll make a fine queen. Don’t let her change you.”
Her lips tilted upward. “You’re a wonderful friend for saying so.” Elodie stared at herself in the dusty mirror. She looked a fright, and it would take a miracle to make her presentable.
“I’m your only friend. Someone has to tell you the things you need to hear.” She motioned toward a stool. “Sit so I can untangle your hair and make you at least moderately passable as the princess you’re supposed to be.”
Elodie stuck her tongue out. “Do your worst.”
She sat down and let Susanna yank on her hair. Pain wasn’t a problem. Every muscle in her body ached from her training with Cale. Having her hair brushed and styled was almost relaxing.
“There,” Susanna said. “You’re ready to face your stepmother.”
Lucky her. Elodie scrunched her nose up. “I suppose there is no time like the present to wander into the throne room. Maybe she won’t be there, and I can avoid her longer…”
“As if she’d leave her favorite place in the castle,” Susanna said and snorted. “Go before she gets suspicious.”
Elodie nodded, walked out of the room, and then headed to see her stepmother. She hadn’t completely calmed down after Susanna scared her. Butterflies danced in her stomach and her heart continued to beat heavily in her chest. When she pushed open the large doors to enter the throne room, a sight greeted her that stilled it completely.
Standing in front of her stepmother, the current ruling queen of Zelnon, was Elodie’s favorite knight, Sir Cale Griffin. All signs pointed to an unpleasant meeting, and all she wanted to do was spin on her heels and avoid it completely. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Besides, Elodie never ran from a fight.
Bring it, Fiona…
Knight to Remember
The throne room was furnished in elaborate velvet brocade of the richest blue velvet and accented with gold filigree. At the back sat the room’s focal point—the thrones. Both had high backs that hugged the wall and were ensconced in blue velvet and gold to match the decorating scheme. The queen normally sat on the right, but since her father’s death that had changed. Fiona decided, since she was acting ruler, she’d take the seat Elodie’s father once claimed. It hurt deep inside to see Fiona sitting in that place of honor.
The queen’s golden hair was piled high on her head in an elaborate chignon with curls spilling over her heart-shaped face. Her green eyes were cold and hard. Elodie blinked back tears and focused on the flag filling the wall above the thrones instead. The same rich color scheme graced Zelnon’s banner along with a roaring white tiger. Elodie had never seen a tiger, but rumor claimed one roamed her lands, protecting them from harm.
“Come here,” Fiona demanded. “You’re an ungrateful child and have no respect for anyone or anything.”
Elodie lifted her chin in defiance. Respect had to be earned, and Fiona had yet to do something that made Elodie feel any sort of admiration for her. She moved closer to the back of the room, dread filling her with each step. What would Fiona want to discuss with her? Why was Cale there?
“Please forgive me, Stepmother,” Elodie said with feigned remorse. “I was unaware you required my presence.” She lowered her gaze so the queen couldn’t see her eyes. If she was able to look into them, she’d realize Elodie wasn’t the least bit sorry.
“Where have you been?” the queen demanded.
“I…” She had no ready excuse. What could she possibly say that was acceptable? Nothing would be appropriate, and the queen would have a fit if she realized what Elodie had been doing and Cale would be banished.
“Did I not see you picking flowers earlier?” Cale asked. “Did you find some pretty ones?”
Elodie’s gaze flew to his and she sent him a silent thank you. “You’re correct, Sir Griffin. There was a lovely patch of wildflowers in the meadow outside the castle. My maid is going to use them to dress my hair later.”
“A waste,” the queen said dismissively. “Were you outside the keep alone?” She narrowed her gaze pinning Elodie in place. “You know you’re not to be allowed anywhere unescorted.”
Drat. “I wasn’t far from the drawbridge. I was in the line of sight of some of the knights who were training.”
“She was, your highness,” Cale bowed his head. “The men kept watch of her as they trained.”
She’d owe him a thousand times more than she could ever repay. He was saving her left and right. A lump was forming in her throat, and she was having trouble swallowing. It seemed like she’d be forever bowing her head to her stepmother, begging for forgiveness, but that time would soon come to an end. Patience could be hard to attain at times, and unfortunately the closer she came to her eighteenth birthday the struggle became even more difficult.
“I don’t like it,” the queen said, glaring at Elodie. “You will not do it again.”
Elodie bit back a retort. It wouldn’t serve her purpose to let go of the rage boiling deep inside of her. “Yes, Stepmother.”
“Now, for the reason I’ve called you here.” Fiona’s lips tilted upward. “I have a surprise for you.”
Susanna’s prediction came to mind as her stepmother spoke. Elodie braced herself for bad news. If Fiona thought it was a good thing, it was everything but. “Oh?” Elodie raised a brow. “What is it?”
“There are several things we must discuss. First, I wanted to inform you that Sir Griffin will be leaving us soon.” A smirk filled her features at that announcement. Did Fiona know Cale had been training her?
“He is?” She turned her gaze to Cale and lifted a brow and then returned her focus to Fiona. “Where is he to go?”
The royal guard didn’t generally leave Zelnon for any reason. They were a peaceful land. A knight in their kingdom only left when a member of the royal family visited other nations. She wasn’t going anywhere, and as far as she was aware, neither was Fiona. So what reason could Cale have to leave? Why hadn�
��t he mentioned it to her earlier? Did her feelings mean so little to him? Pain shredded her from the inside out at his neglect.
“It’s personal,” he said.
If he wanted to pique her curiosity, that was a sure way to do it—as if saying it was personal would be enough to deter her from asking more questions. He’d learn soon enough. Elodie nodded as if she was going to let the subject drop, but fully planned on discussing it in depth with Cale at their next training session.
“I realize he’s the head of your personal guard, but I’ll have to assign someone else. When a new knight is picked, I’ll inform you of the change.” Fiona sat back and tapped her hand on the arm of the throne. “Try not to drive this one away too.”
What was that supposed to mean? Why did Fiona believe she was the reason Cale wanted to leave? “Pardon me?” she asked.
“Never mind,” Fiona replied and flipped her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. We need to move on to the other reason I summoned you.”
Her stepmother had already thrown a wrench in her life by telling her Cale was leaving. What other bad news could she possibly have to impart? “When is Sir Griffin to leave?” She deliberately kept her gaze on Fiona, not wanting to see Cale’s reaction. Elodie steeled herself for the response. None was forthcoming, and dread filled her at the silence that greeted her. Immediately—he was leaving before she could even have another training session. The traitor was abandoning her when she needed him most.
“I see,” she said and held her head high. “Then I wish you safe travels. What else do you need to discuss? I’d like to rest before the evening’s festivities.” The festival in the afternoon was designed for the villagers. Technically, Elodie wasn’t required to attend and no one expected her to. She had other plans though and would go in secret. The ball was for her princess persona and the festival was for her warrior side.
The entire week would consist of celebrations leading up to her birthday, and that night was the first one. On the day she reached her majority, they’d have a coronation and then kingdom-wide merriment would ensue. She’d been looking forward to the many entertainments that the steward had planned. Now, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and give into the tears threatening to spill.
“This won’t take long,” the queen said. “I’m to inform you that your betrothed will arrive tomorrow. You will wed after the coronation.”
“What?” Her mouth hung open in shock. Elodie clenched her fists at her side. She wasn’t betrothed to anyone. Her father wouldn’t have done that to her. “You must be mistaken.”
“I assure you, I am not.” The queen held her head high and looked down at Elodie. “The contracts were drawn up and signed by all the appropriate parties.”
Did she not warrant input in her own life? She would prefer to at least like the person she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Fiona was effectively taking away all her choices. She’d never hated her more than in this moment.
“I don’t believe you,” Elodie blurted out. “My father believed in love and would never have forced a marriage on me.”
“Your father was a fool,” Fiona said scathingly. “And you’re right, he didn’t arrange this marriage. I brokered it and it was signed by me, and your other guardian.”
Abram signed it? He was her father’s best friend. Why would he betray her and her father’s wishes? What did Fiona have on him to make him agree to it? She’d go to Abram and beg him to undo it. There had to be a way to dissolve the agreement. She had no desire to marry someone she didn’t even know.
“Who have you promised my hand to in marriage?” She glared at Fiona. Hatred spilled out of her in waves. The rage built up inside her to indefinable degrees. Years of repressed resentment and mistrust were about to explode from her. “More importantly, what do you stand to gain from it?” Fiona did nothing without reason. This marriage smelled, and she didn’t even have the name of her betrothed yet. “Why all the secrecy? Did you believe I’d have a problem with it?”
The queen narrowed her gaze and sat forward. “Silence,” she roared. “You will not question me on this matter. It is for the best, and we need this alliance.”
“We need nothing of the sort,” Elodie shouted. She stared at Fiona thoughtfully and stated, “Maybe you do though.” She lifted a brow mockingly. “Now tell me who it is you’ve tied me to.”
Cale moved forward, making his way to her. Elodie forgot he was even in the room. He was probably going to offer her some kind of support, but she didn’t want it. She held up her hand, motioning for him to stop. Cale failed her as much as everyone else in her life had. Why had he even bothered to train her? Before this insufferable meeting she’d have run to him and begged him to aid her. Nothing would entice her to do anything so foolish again. Her eyes had been opened. Her stepmother’s pronouncement had momentarily blinded her to everything around her. All she’d seen was the evil woman her father had foolishly married. She often wondered how he’d not seen her rotten core. Cale’s choice had been made, and it wasn’t Elodie. His actions put him firmly in the enemy camp. Something she couldn’t overlook even if she wanted to. Her future, and that of her people, was at stake.
The queen finally started to speak, and Elodie turned her gaze away from Cale to face her. “You’re betrothed to the Royal Prince of Katriel, Daire Reilly.”
Elodie laughed maniacally. Of course that is who she’d betrothed Elodie to. Fiona couldn’t stand to lose control of Zelnon, and the only way to retain an ounce of it was for Elodie to marry into her family. Prince Daire? Fiona’s beloved nephew and well-known knave—what a joke. He was the third son in line, and unlikely to inherit the crown in his own lands. He wasn’t anyone worth her time, and she was done with her audience with Fiona. Elodie curtsied more out of habit than respect and then spun on her heels and stormed out of the throne room. It was time to lick her wounds and plan. She would not be marrying anyone.
* * *
“Elle, wait,” Cale yelled after her.
She ignored him and kept walking at a furious pace. It wasn’t his fault her stepmother was evil incarnate, but at the same time she wanted to blame him. He was leaving her to deal with everything on her own. By morning, he’d be out of her life, and soon after her knight wouldn’t be more than a memory. Elodie lifted her skirt and skipped the steps in the tower leading to her chamber. She had to escape, and there was one way to do that. In skirts, she couldn’t leave the castle unescorted, but in her training garb no one would give her a second glance. The need to punch something or hack it to death was overwhelming.
Elodie pushed open the door to the storage room and stormed inside, letting it close behind her. The trunk holding her gear was in the far corner buried under some unused blankets. Her dress was squeezing her so tight she couldn’t breathe properly. After she disposed of it and was more comfortable, she’d leave the castle—perhaps for good. Let Fiona have it. She’d have a happier life if she never had to lay eyes on her stepmother ever again.
The door slammed open with a booming sound echoing through the chamber. Cale’s large frame filled the entrance. Her breath froze in her chest, and she had to remind herself to let air in and out. He was magnificent and quite irate. His cheeks were flushed a deep red. A storm raged in the depths of his blue eyes, the likes she’d never seen before. “Do you ever listen?” He seethed.
“Not when I don’t like what I’m about to hear,” she spat out. “I don’t need any lectures. Especially from you.”
“Grow up, princess,” he said with disdain. “The world isn’t perfect, and it’s far from fair. Whoever filled your head with nonsense did you a grave disservice.”
If he wanted to fight, then by all means, she’d give him one. No one knew how unfair life was more than she did. Her mother died when she was ten, and her father married Fiona to give her a motherly figure in her life. That was the cruelest joke of all. Her stepmother was the furthest thing from warm and fuzzy a person could get. Still, Elodie endure
d and was happy to have her father in her life, until he wasn’t. His death had devastated her, and Cale had the audacity to tell her to grow up? She stomped over to him and slapped him. The added redness added to his already flushed face.
“Get out,” she ordered. “As far as I’m concerned, the sooner you’re gone the happier my life will be.”
Cale lifted his hand and rubbed his cheek. “I don’t want to leave.”
That was news to her. In the throne room, he hadn’t been too grieved by the idea. “Your personal reasons are calling you. I believe I told you to go.”
She was already starting to calm down, but she’d dug a hole for herself without a way out. Besides, it would be easier on her once he let her be. She could cry in peace without an unwanted audience.
Cale reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Look at me,” he demanded.
She didn’t want to—it hurt too much. Elodie lifted her gaze to meet his. The storm still brewed, but it wasn’t the same. Sorrow and regret greeted her and filled her soul.
“I don’t want to leave,” he repeated. “But I can’t stay and watch you marry another. It would destroy me.”
It was the closest he ever came to admitting he felt something more for her than a knight should. How could she let him go without admitting what was inside her heart? Would it be wrong to declare anything when she wasn’t free to be with him? Talk about life not being fair.
“Take me with you,” she said. “I don’t want to fight Fiona anymore. It’s exhausting, and I’d rather be happy.”
He shook his head sadly. “You’ll never be happy if you leave your home. This is your birthright, and I refuse to aid you in abandoning it.”
Why did he have to be so noble? “It’s not your decision to make.” She brought her hand to his cheek. “I want to go.”
He stared down at her. His face was a blank canvas without any emotion spilling from him. The storm in his eyes turned into a gentle breeze and calmed the one raging inside of her. She didn’t understand how he did it, but he’d always had the ability to soothe her. “I’d do anything for you, Elle,” he said quietly. “But I can’t do this. I can’t give you the life you deserve.”