by Neha Yazmin
“This was your first time?” he asked, swallowing again. Guiltily, he looked at his hand still clutched in both of hers, over her chest. “Your first kiss?” This obviously hadn’t been his first kiss.
Aaryana nodded. “Yes, Your High—”
“Call me Wyett.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. You’re a Prince.”
“You’re a Princess.”
“Not anymore. You’re the Crown Prince. I’m nothing.”
He took her hands from her chest to his. His heart was pounding. “You did that,” he said, leaning in close to her face. “You’re making this happen. Feel that and tell me that you’re nothing.”
Aaryana inhaled deeply. “If I say your name out loud, I’m afraid that I’ll keep saying it. That I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then, don’t stop. I don’t want you to.” Dropping her hand, he wrapped both his arms around her waist and held her tight, close. He looked into her eyes. “Say my name, Aaryana. Call me by my name.”
She stared at him for a long time. He stared back, waiting.
And then he said, “Please”, bringing his mouth close to hers—and his name left her lips without her permission.
She didn’t regret it, because Wyett captured the sound and her lips with his own and kissed her. This time, he was passionate and fierce, pushing her against a tree that was a few paces behind them and plunging his tongue inside her mouth. It was over too quick. She was left reeling, wanting more, lips still puckered, and when she leaned towards him, he jerked his head back.
“Say my name,” Wyett demanded.
She obeyed at once and was rewarded immediately: Another fiery kiss that took her breath away—and ended too soon.
“Again,” he whispered.
“Wyett.”
He kissed her lips once before kissing his way to her neck. “Again.”
“Wyett.”
He trailed kisses down her arm, her body trembling in their wake. He stood on his knees and pressed his mouth to her wrist. “Again.”
“Wyett.”
Wyett gripped her hips to keep her steady—she was shaking; if she wasn’t leaning against the tree behind her, Aaryana thought she would have collapsed—and planted kiss after kiss on her stomach, the sensitive flesh around her bellybutton. She was almost convulsing against the tree trunk.
“Again,” he whispered, looking up at her face.
“Wyett,” she said as she lowered herself down on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wyett. Wyett. Wyett.”
Myraa couldn’t find the book in Parth’s study, so she expanded her search to include the other obvious places that he might have hidden the thing. It was only after thoroughly looking through all the wardrobes and dressers that it occurred to her that Parth may not have hidden it at all. Why would he? It meant nothing to him. He didn’t know the truth behind it. And if he hadn’t tucked it away somewhere out of sight, did that mean he’d gotten rid of it? After all, she had yet to find it.
It was getting late. The sun was still bright and hot, but Myraa knew she’d been in this apartment for the better half of the afternoon. With nothing to show for it. But why would he destroy it? It had no significance for him. As far as he knew, this book was just a very early version of the Sea Princess’s tale.
So, if he hadn’t hidden it, and he hadn’t destroyed it, where was it? It’s here somewhere, said her gut. Keep looking. She would, but not for much longer. Parth would be returning to his chambers to get ready for dinner—and who knew what the Queen made of Myraa’s absence?
By the time their bodies had stiffened and bruised from rolling around on the bumpy ground, night had fallen. It was clear that they were safer here by the water than if they attempted to navigate the jungle in pitch black.
Together, they gathered enough wood to build a fire. Aaryana sat down in front of it and the Prince sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Aaryana took his hands in hers and admired the long fingers, the sharp knuckles. In complete silence, they explored their hands as thoroughly as they’d explored their mouths.
He broke the silence to tell her that she had “pretty hands”, that he’d always liked the look of them. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him admiring her hands from afar.
“Really? I didn’t think you liked a single thing about me,” she mumbled.
Even after Micah had told her that he was pretty certain Wyett was in love with her, she’d only half-believed it. The way Wyett treated her, the hatred in his eyes… how could that have been love?
“I thought you hated me.”
The Crown Prince exhaled. His breath tickled her skin. “You were right and wrong,” he said. “I did hate you—well, part of me did. The other part of me didn’t, and that was the part of me that I refused to indulge. To even acknowledge.”
He let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist again.
“I never allowed myself to think about it, to admit it. I let my hatred govern my behaviour towards you. But you were wrong to think that there was nothing about you that I liked. I just fixated on the things that I didn’t like.”
“What about me did you like?” Aaryana dared ask, despite longing to hear the long list of things that he hated about her.
“Your face,” he said quite matter-of-factly. “When I first saw your face, I thought it was the most beautiful face I’d ever seen. I thought Father had returned from Sidkat with a young lover, and although I didn’t like the idea, I thought that I couldn’t blame him for falling for such a face.”
Wyett sighed and leaned his chin on her shoulder.
“I miss the golden-brown tan your skin had that first week; so pretty... I wasn’t happy with your new hairstyle, though, the silly curls hiding half of your face from me.”
She felt him shake his head.
“It was simpler to deem it rude, likening it to someone talking to Royalty with their body angling away from them, rather than admit that I wanted your hair out of the way to see your face in its entirety.”
Aaryana pushed back her now-dry-but-dirty black hair and tied it into a knot at the nape of her neck. She was about to turn around and face him, show him her face, when he manoeuvred himself around her. With his back to the fire, his face was in shadow now. Her face was probably only half illuminated by the flames, but Wyett looked at her as though she was glowing in the light of a million stars. It made her breath catch.
“I also admired your strength,” he said, “not just when it came to the battle ring, but because you were still standing after everything that had happened to you. Having to leave everything behind like that, your family, your Throne…”
Her brows furrowed. Wyett had never shown her any sympathy for her troubles. He hadn’t even believed she was a Princess of Adgar.
“You sent the seabird—”
“I wanted—needed to know the truth about you. I knew you weren’t going to tell me. It was also very difficult to be near you, to question you, with the conflicting emotions warring inside me. I couldn’t stand it.”
The Prince closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled and exhaled deeply.
“I wanted answers. I needed something that would make me hate you fully or make me fully feel the opposite. So, I ended up sending the seabird to Adgar.”
“You say that as though—”
“At first, I’d only threatened to send people to Adgar,” Wyett confessed. “I knew it would take a while to prepare the ship and I could call it off once you confessed the truth. I thought the threat of an investigation would make you talk. It didn’t. As time went on… like I said, I wanted to know the truth.
“I watched you closely whenever I could, looking for signs, anything that would help me decide whether to kill you or kiss you. What I saw was your affection for Seth, your devotion to Father, you humouring the ladies at Court. It wasn’t enough to sway me towards courting you, but it kept me from plotting against you.
“On the night
of the Harmony Dance, I thought I was going to give away my secret. It was very difficult, pretending that I wasn’t enjoying holding you.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell,” she said with a chuckle, “so you hid your attraction well.”
“What about your attraction to me?” He raised an eyebrow. “When did that happen? It definitely wasn’t instant, like it was for me.”
He wasn’t showing it, but she knew he really wanted to know what the turning point had been for her. She wanted to know, too.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know,” she said under her breath, lowering her head to avoid his gaze.
She definitely hadn’t felt drawn to him before today. Or had she? Her desire for him wouldn’t be this strong if it had only bloomed a mere few hours ago. Would it? As he’d been talking, explaining, confessing his feelings for her, she’d wanted to throw herself into his arms and capture his lips with her own. It shouldn’t be this overwhelming if it’s this new. She couldn’t explain it, so she kept her head down and her tongue still.
Wyett cupped her cheek with a warm hand and lifted her face to meet her eyes. “What were you thinking when you kissed me?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know, I just wanted to… it came on suddenly and powerfully. I’m the type of person that… I don’t know what I want until I have it. I didn’t know I wanted you to touch me until you touched me. I didn’t know I wanted to kiss you until I kissed you.”
“Well, I knew it was all an act when you first came to Roshdan,” he said thoughtfully. “I knew you were only pretending to want me.”
“Is that why you hated me?”
“Yes. I mean, I hated that I wanted someone that didn’t want me,” he said quietly. “You didn’t care that you didn’t like me, as long as you got what you wanted—a Throne. You’d lost the Throne of Adgar, so you wanted to take Roshdan’s. I vowed to never let you succeed. I vowed not to marry you, no matter how much I wanted to, because you didn’t see me that way.”
“I do now.” She really, truly did.
“I think that’s why I… gave in today. Why I didn’t stop you when you kissed me. Why I kissed you back.”
“You melted my heart with that kiss, took it to boiling point,” Aaryana whispered unintentionally. She felt her face heat up. “I’ve never felt anything like it. I didn’t expect it.” She covered the hand he had on her cheek with her own. “I didn’t think I’d like it so much. Like you so much.”
“You might not like me much longer,” he said before pulling his hand back. “There’s something I need to tell you, Aaryana.” Wyett swallowed and looked down. “The reason you came here… The reason you nearly died… It was me. I orchestrated the whole thing. I’m so sorry.”
He looked up, his face screwed up with sorrow, regret, and self-loathing. She didn’t like it, seeing him like this.
And she also liked it a lot—Wyett feeling so strongly about her that he’d be so cut up by what had happened to her.
“Say something,” he pleaded, eyes uncertain.
“I know it was you,” she said. “I realised quickly that the Dead Forest couldn’t have given life to something that cures, not when it lives to hurt and kill. I knew it was you that wrote that letter, not Erisa.”
His eyes widened. “Then, why did you kiss me… I almost got you killed…”
“You came to find me. You saved my life.”
Wyett shook his head. “You could have died if I didn’t arrive when I did…”
“You arrived at the right time.”
“How can you be so calm about it? How can you sit there and act like you’ve forgiven me?” Wyett looked appalled. “I will never forgive myself. You shouldn’t, either.
“I was kissing you and loathing myself for what I’d done. Guilt was eating me up. I wanted to stop touching you but I couldn’t. You knew, and you still… You shouldn’t have let me come anywhere near you!”
“If I didn’t, who would have carried me to the sea and saved my life?” Aaryana grinned. “You wanted to hurt me. You didn’t wish me dead. I’m sorry but I just don’t feel angry at you for it. If you hadn’t sent me here, we wouldn’t be sitting here like this.
“Besides, nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine. Not even a scar to show for it. Good as new, like you said.”
She ran her fingers along her stomach, and Wyett watched. Something seemed to occur to him then.
“About that… how did you just heal like that?”
There were two options to choose from. Give up the search and return to her duties or go into the place she loathed the most in this Palace—Parth’s bedchamber. It was that room that he told her to clean. It was that room in which he watched her every breath as she worked, made her feel disgusting and tainted. It was the room she knew best out of his entire apartment. That’s why she hadn’t looked in there yet. She would have noticed if he kept an old book in there.
Myraa sighed and walked into the bedroom.
“You went into the water a dying woman,” Wyett murmured, “and came out of it brand new.” He started caressing her abdomen. She shivered at his touch. “How did that happen?” He looked up at her, bewildered.
Aaryana took his hand and held it away from her body. “I have something to tell you, too, and it might change the way you feel about me.”
She had no choice but to be honest with him. He had seen the way the water had magically healed her injuries.
“I’ve been suspecting it for a while now, but I didn’t truly believe it until today.” Aaryana took in a long breath. “I didn’t have proof until today. Sea water does have healing qualities. For me.”
“What?” The Prince’s eyes and mouth were wide.
“The first time I ever went into the ocean was the day after my last duel in Adgar. The one I told you about. I’d suffered the worst injuries of my life and the sea water seemed to speed up the healing process.
“I think I revisited the ocean on a couple more occasions after that and my injuries were all but healed afterwards. Sea water heals me and it appears to be more effective the more severe my injuries are. And if I will it to heal me.
“Today, I had no choice but to test my theory—and I willed it to happen, willed it to save my life. And it did.”
“No,” he breathed, but not in an offensive way. Not in a way that meant he didn’t believe her. He just seemed dazed and awed.
He freed his hand from hers to press it to her stomach once more, spreading his fingers out. Anyone would think she was with child, and he, the father, was feeling the kicks of the unborn baby.
Suddenly, she was thinking that if she and Wyett got married, their children would most likely have dark red hair; it was a trait of the Fresdans that got passed down generation after generation.
The family curse is also passed down…
“Do you know why the sea heals you?” he asked in a breathy whisper.
She inhaled deeply, steeling herself. “Wyett, do you remember when you told me about Nidiya?”
“Of course, I do,” he said at once. “I couldn’t believe how easily you pronounced her name on your first attempt, how familiar you seemed with it.
“What interested me most was how keen you were to know if any of Nidiya’s descendants left Roshdan to settle elsewhere.” He shook his head. “I thought there was a significance in that, but I never figured out what…”
He was beginning to put it together now, it was clear in the faraway look in his eyes.
“The reason I’m so familiar with the name Nidiya, why I wanted to know if any Nidiyans emigrated to other Islands, is because my mother’s maiden name was Nidiya. And she said it meant ‘pure as water’, just as Nidiya had.”
Wyett’s eyes widened.
“My mother was born in Adgar, but I think her ancestors were originally from Roshdan, that they fled the Island to preserve their bloodline during the Nidiyan Hunt.
“Kanona Nidiya Vijkanti, my mother, was a descendant of Nidiya, a higher sea folk, and ther
efore, so am I. I’m a Nidiyan, Wyett. I have sea folk blood in me.”
A long, unbearable silence stretched on and on. Aaryana’s heart pounded.
Then: “You’re not a descendant of Nidiya’s.” The Crown Prince’s voice was flat, his face pale, his eyes unblinking. He was barely breathing. He removed his hand from her abdomen. The baby had stopped kicking.
“Wyett, were you listening—”
“Yes, and now you need to listen to me.” His voice was suddenly urgent, grave, and his eyes were blinking rapidly. He looked scared. “Nidiya was a higher sea folk,” he said in a rush, “all sea folk descended from Eena, the Queen of the Deep, one of the godlings three. You’re not just a descendant of Nidiya’s, Aaryana, you’re also a descendant of a godling. The one responsible for keeping the ocean from devouring our lands.”
“I remember the story.”
He shook his head. “You’re not letting me get to my point,” he said, exasperated. “Just as the fire angel is prohibited from leaving the skies, Eena is not supposed to leave the depths of the sea, and nor are her descendants. The fish caught by humans to eat don’t count; they’re hunted by people. They don’t willingly come to land.
“I don’t think Nidiya came to Roshdan with Eena’s permission; Eena wouldn’t have allowed it. The sea folk belong in the water; that’s their rightful place.”
“That’s why, as far as anyone knows, Nidiya was the only sea folk that left the—”
“Aaryana, listen!” he said impatiently. “Nidiya always feared that the sea folk would find her and drag her back to the ocean. She never went anywhere near the sea. Nor did her descendants.
“Some even say that the people that went missing after Nidiya died were taken by the sea folk, mistaken as Nidiya or her descendants. The sea folk wanted their own people back in the water. Where they belonged.”
“But couldn’t they see that some of the people they abducted looked nothing like Nidiya? I mean, men and women both went missing—”
Wyett grabbed the tops of her arms. “Aaryana! You have to stay away from the sea. If you don’t, they’ll take you. They’ll take you and never give you back.”