Queen in Exile

by Donna Hatch

  “Do you have anything already made that we may purchase?” Captain Darkwood asked the dressmaker.

  “No, not unless you want to buy some of my own,” she replied with a wry smile.

  “That would be acceptable,” the captain said.

  She paused and looked at him oddly. “Do you jest, sir?”

  “No. I’m willing to purchase anything you already have.”

  “Very well.” She disappeared.

  Across the street at a bakery, a young girl came running out the door wearing a look of terror, with the cook, red-faced and furious, storming out after her.

  “You stupid, clumsy wench. I’ll wring your neck!” the cook shouted.

  The scullery maid turned a corner and crouched down next to a heap of refuse. Jeniah wished she could protect the girl. She had never really tried such a thing, but wondered if she could project a blur over the quaking scullery maid. She concentrated on shielding the girl, making her blend in with the bricks of the building. A soft shimmer touched her outline. Jeniah watched, delighted, as the cook ran right past the girl. The maid let out a sigh of relief.

  “Mag?” came another voice, softer, concerned. An older woman came out of the bakery.

  Jeniah stopped projecting the blur as the maid stepped out of the shadows toward the woman.

  “Come, you can take these deliveries. Don’t worry about Cook. He’ll have forgotten all by the time you return. I’ll clean up the mess in the kitchen.”

  The maid nodded and obediently followed the older woman back inside the bakery. Amoment later, the girl returned, balancing two baskets, and disappeared down the street.

  The knowledge that Jeniah had protected the girl from an undeserved beating gave her a quiet joy. She could not save her people yet, but she had saved someone.

  She turned away and found the captain’s blue eyes upon her. A tiny smile tugged at his mouth.

  “Did you do that?”

  Feeling both shy and proud, she nodded.

  “I thought so.” Approval shone in his eyes.

  A moment later, the dressmaker reappeared with a blouse, a skirt, and a bodice that laced up the back. “I don’t have anything really fine, but these belong to my daughter. She’s not as tiny as you are, milady, but if you lace it up tight, it should do.”

  Although the clothing was coarse, dull, and thinning in areas, Jeniah accepted it gratefully. The captain bought a change of clothes from a traveling merchant who was similar in height, although a bit portly. The merchant was only too happy to sell an old set of clothing for enough money to have some fine new ones made.

  At the cobbler’s shop, they purchased a pair of fur-lined boots for Jeniah. The captain had to negotiate for a pair that had been made for another customer and finally paid double the price in order to persuade the cobbler to part with them. The boots were a bit too big but when two pairs of warm stockings were added, they fit well enough.

  “I don’t think I even remembered what it was like to be truly warm,” Jeniah said dreamily as she wore the boots out of the shop.

  They passed a number of shops and taverns, then turned down a side street toward a quieter neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. A small inn stood sheltered by evergreen trees.

  After leaving Braygo with a stable hand and promising a tip for his superior care, the captain took her inside to a dining area crowded with several tables and a bar on the far side of the room. A middle-aged man with thinning hair and a round belly served mugs of foaming liquid to customers from behind the bar.

  He looked up at their approach. “Welcome,” the man said in a pleasant voice.

  “Good evening,” replied the captain cheerfully. “We need a room, two baths, and two meals.”

  Alarm jarred Jeniah at the thought of sleeping in the same room with him. Now that they were in civilization, she had assumed that they would each have their own room. She glanced at the captain but his face remained ambiguous. After taking a steadying breath, she reminded herself that he had proved an honorable man repeatedly and that he would not suddenly transform into a monster the moment they were alone in a bedroom. Then, realizing that her nervousness made her lose her concentration, she strengthened her blurring illusion.

  The innkeeper nodded. “I’ve a nice room available.” The innkeeper named his price and Captain Darkwood paid him out of his shrinking money pouch.

  Jeniah wished she had some coins to contribute and made a mental note to repay him if she ever had money of her own. Not just repay him but reward him.

  A middle-aged woman appeared beside the innkeeper.

  “My wife will show you the way.” The innkeeper turned to his customers who called noisily for another round of grog.

  The innkeeper’s wife gave them a friendly smile and pushed back a wayward strand of graying hair. “This way.”

  She led them down a narrow corridor to a door. Inside, they found a clean room with a large, comfortable-looking bed. Against a wall sat a bureau with a washbasin and a screen to change behind. Although bare compared to the luxurious chambers in the castle, to Jeniah it was a haven.

  “Your baths will arrive shortly, milord. We begin serving dinner at six bells. Come early. We are busy most nights, and dinner is only served as long as it lasts. My name is Mirre. If you require anything else, let me know.”

  “Thank you, Mirre,” the captain said with a disarming smile.

  Mirre blushed and faltered. Then she smiled back, no doubt overwhelmed at receiving attention from such a handsome man. The door clicked behind her.

  Alone with the captain, Jeniah’s irrational fears returned and she tentatively looked up at him. “One room?”

  “I can’t protect you if I can’t see you. And we cannot discount the possibility that the Hanorans may have traced you here. Two people arriving together asking for two rooms might be enough to lead them to us even if you aren’t recognized.”

  Jeniah nodded and sat down on the bed. The only bed in the room.

  Very softly, he said, “You can still trust me, you know.” His expression begged for her confidence.

  How could she not believe him? “I know.”

  A humble knock on the door announced the arrival of the tub and buckets of hot water. The captain stepped out of the room while Jeniah bathed. She had almost forgotten how wonderful a hot bath felt, but she was surprised at her own helplessness in bathing and washing her hair. Mora had always done it for her. Jeniah spared no few tears over the loss of her friend and faithful lady-in-waiting. Then, reminding herself that the captain waited outside the door, she pulled herself together.

  Despite her awkwardness, she scrubbed her skin heartily and felt glorious. Dressing proved challenging as her fingers struggled clumsily with the clothing. The simple blouse with long sleeves and a brown woolen skirt, much like those she had seen peasant girls wear, looked beautiful compared to the ragged gown and borrowed tunic of the captain’s she had worn the last few weeks. The laces in the bodice, however, were impossible, and finally Jeniah made up her mind to do without and threw it down.

  She had to work at her hair for some time to comb out the tangles, a task she had never had to do. Her hair had nearly dried by the time she coaxed out the last snarls. Mora had done it with such ease, and had often admired Jeniah’s hair as she arranged it.

  Mora. How Jeniah missed her beloved and faithful companion. Pulling in her emotions, she took a breath and looked down at herself. She looked better than she had in days. Indignation welled up inside of her as she realized she could now easily pass for a peasant girl without even blurring.

  Her life as a princess had ended. She lived in exile.

  Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her head, refusing to brood over it. She glanced at the door, behind which she knew Captain Darkwood waited in the corridor. With Kai Darkwood at her side, she could bear anything.

  She refused to consider what she might do if he were gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  K ai knocked a
t the door to their room. “May I come in?” “Yes,” came an answer from behind the door.

  The princess’s smile met him like sunlight after a storm. A few damp ringlets clung to her lovely face, which shone from the bath, and she smelled like sweet herbs and flowers.

  He let his eyes move down her slender, curvaceous body. The princess turned with a flourish as if parading a lovely gown, innocently assuming he was looking at her attire.

  He redirected his thoughts to her clothing. “Something is missing.”

  She wore a blouse tucked into a skirt, but there was no bodice. The thin fabric of her blouse did little to conceal her figure beneath it. Kai spotted the bodice lying on the floor.

  As she followed his line of sight, the princess frowned in embarrassment. “I couldn’t manage that alone.”

  He successfully suppressed a smile. “These can be tricky things. Would you care for some assistance?”

  A look of horror came over her and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You mean . . .? No, no that would not be—”A blush crept into her face and her teeth caught her lower lip.

  Kai picked up the bodice. “I don’t have much experience with these. Not much different than lacing boots, I would assume.” Her blush deepened and her eyes dropped.

  “Here. Allow me,” he persisted.

  She looked as though she might bolt. “Very well,” she said in a hushed voice.

  He could almost feel the heat of her blush. She bit her lip and waited, shame-faced, while Kai placed the bodice around her and laced it up, trying not to allow his hands to linger too long and make her uncomfortable, or to indulge his imagination. He finished lacing her and rested his hand at the curve of her waist.

  She glanced back over her shoulder and their eyes met. She held her breath, her eyes darting to each of his. Tension rippled between them. The princess grew very still, and he knew that she was aware of him, not only as her protector, but as a man. His hand lingered at her waist and then slowly slid up her back and along her shoulder. He touched the exposed skin above the neckline of her shirt. The softness of her skin surprised him, and a surge of need shot through him. His chest tightened and he could barely draw a breath. He ached to touch her, to taste her. It was almost more than he could bear. By the moons, where was his self-control? After his declaration only moments ago, he could not fail her now.

  Breaking eye contact, Kai leaned down and picked up the boots. “May I help you with these, too?”

  Clearly shaken by the current that had passed between them, she turned away, and he waited while she composed herself. She nodded. “Only if you will show me how to do it. I won’t have you dressing me like a handmaiden.”

  He raised an eyebrow and replied wolfishly, “I found it interesting, actually.”

  “Captain!” She looked scandalized, but a smile touched her mouth.

  He chuckled lightly and was gratified to see that she finally relaxed. After he laced her boots, the princess stood up.

  “Compared to the lovely slippers you made for me, I don’t know if I can bear to wear these ugly old boots,” she teased as she turned to allow him to look her over again. “What do you think? Am I common-looking enough?”

  “You are far from common-looking. But yes, I believe the clothing will do.”

  She grew somber. “Captain, am I . . . beautiful at all?”

  Kai was taken aback at the question. Didn’t she know? He hesitated. Speaking honestly might not be prudent, but her expression begged for reassurance.

  His mouth opened and words came pouring out. “Never in all my life have I seen anyone who could compare to your beauty.”

  She studied him as if to determine his sincerity. “Thank you. I’m not sure why, but I really needed to hear that.” Her eyes focused on something far away.

  The princess looked so vulnerable, standing there hugging herself, that Kai longed to take her into his arms. That urge seemed to be hitting him more frequently, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist. He told himself that after all she’d been through, and his earlier vows, his wish to hold her only stemmed out of an innocuous desire to comfort her. But knights weren’t supposed to lie.

  When more hot water was brought, Kai laid a hand on her arm. “Remain inside the room. I’ll bathe behind the screen.”

  The princess waited quietly, resting on the bed. He could almost feel her discomfort. Kai stripped down and submerged himself. The hot water soothed his sore muscles. He scrubbed his skin and examined his wounds. They were scarred and red, but healing well. He glanced toward the princess on the other side of the flimsy barrier, achingly aware of her nearness. So tempting.

  He drew a steadying breath and scrubbed his hair as he thought back over their conversation only hours before. She had doubted his motives for getting only one room. The thought came like a blow to the gut. Hadn’t he proved himself to her? But then, because of her ordeal with the Hanoran soldiers, any woman would feel as she did. And if she had any idea how much he wanted to take her into his arms, she would have good reason to doubt his intentions.

  “While we are here, don’t you think you should get your shoulder and your side looked at by a doctor or a healer?” she called.

  “No. I’m mending.”

  “Your wounds looked serious.”

  “I know, but a healer would recognize them as battle wounds and might draw conclusions. The Hanorans are everywhere. I can’t risk it.” He finished bathing and began drying.

  “I’m worried about you, Kai.”

  He froze, and the towel slipped from his hands. That was the first time she had spoken his name. Before, she had always called him “Captain.” He began dressing and tried to keep his voice casual. “Don’t worry. Your chayim worked her magic.”

  After he dressed, he slipped over his head the leather thong that held the braid. He eyed it, feeling a sting of guilt that he hadn’t thought of her as often as usual, and brought the token to his lips.

  The dinner bell rang and the pair of refugees ate their food hungrily. Of all the sumptuous feasts served in the castle, the princess later said, none could compare to this, the first real meal they had eaten since their flight from Arden. Kai ate in silence but his ears remained alert. He hoped no one paid close attention to the princess or noticed her mannerisms, which were obviously that of the well-bred. Though she ate quickly, her posture was too erect, her hand position on the utensils too formal, her bites too tiny and proper. Every motion screamed high-born. He could only trust that her blurring would be an adequate protection from any suspicious eyes present.

  Most of the conversation coming from the tables around them centered on livestock or the weather. Some discussed their business in the marketplace. Then the conversation took a more meaningful turn.

  “I heard that the castle of Arden fell in only one night and that all the royalty were publicly executed. Even the children.”

  Beside him, the princess swallowed hard and put her last bite of bread back down on her plate, her body rigid.

  “Except the princess,” interjected another. “They didn’t find her in the initial raid. The Hanorans are carrying out a widespread search for her.”

  “Troops are combing the countryside, and all the main roads out of Arden are blockaded,” replied another. “It’s made traders unhappy.”

  “Traveling has become a terrible nuisance,” agreed another.

  “I pity the princess,” said the innkeeper, joining in the conversation. “I hope for her sake the wild beasts get her before the Hanorans do.”

  The princess made a choking sound.

  “She’ll meet a more humane end,” agreed the innkeeper’s wife, Mirre, as she paused to refill their tankards. “Did you hear how brutally they executed the royalty?”

  There were murmurs of assent. The princess went pale and shook visibly. Her blurring faded until her own features blended with her illusion.

  The innkeeper’s wife passed by and then stopped. “Are you unwell, milady
?” Her eyes narrowed as she carefully studied the princess.

  Alarm shot through Kai. He stood. “She’s tired from our journey. Perhaps she should rest now.” He put his arm around her and helped her up. They left the room with a few curious stares following them.

  Inside the room, Jeniah began to weep. At first, she tried to hold back, but finally she gave in to the flood of tears that overwhelmed her. She looked so forlorn that Kai could not resist the need to comfort her. When he put his arms around her, she did not push him away but instead leaned against him, sobbing quietly as he held her.

  Outside the shuttered window, the cloak of night spread over the land. Spent and exhausted, the princess rested against his chest. Tenderness swelled up inside him and he tightened his arms around her, reveling in the feel of her against him.

  She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I seem to do nothing but cry.”

  “You’ve been through a great deal.”

  She leaned against him more deeply, her tremors dying down.

  Kai stroked her hair and kissed the top of her dark head. “Get some rest.”

  She did not resist as Kai laid her back on the bed. At least she had eaten a decent meal and finally had a proper bed. She sank into sleep almost instantly, and he prayed her dreams would be sweet.

  Kai stood over her, admiring her. Her radiant beauty made him ache. Banishing such thoughts, he shook himself and removed her boots before pulling a blanket over her. As he rolled up in his blanket on the floor by the door, Kai attempted to forget the lovely, desirable young woman in the bed only a few hand spans away.

  Thank the moons for his Sauraii training, or he might never sleep. He ran through mental exercises until he cleared his mind enough to rest.

  Kai awoke to a soft knock at the door. Immediately alert, he leaped to his feet, a dagger in each hand. Pale, silver moonlight shone in between the shutters of the window. He heard the princess’s soft breathing, but no other sound.

  “Who’s there?” he called softly.

  “Forgive me for disturbing you, sir. It’s Mirre,” came a reply barely above a whisper. “May I speak with you, please?”