Missing Lily

by Annette K. Larsen

  He waited at the bottom of the stairs, just where I had left him. He smiled at me before his eyes dropped to the bundle I held. Curiosity crossed his face before his brow shot up and his eyes returned to mine, questioning. He waited until I stood on the last step, directly in front of him, before he spoke. “Are those what I think they are?” There was a note of reverence in his voice, and I was suddenly very glad to be sharing them.

  I nodded, then held them out. “They’re for you.”

  He took them carefully from my hands, looking over the bundle before turning back to me. He slipped a hand around my waist and brought his lips to mine in a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he said, then took my hand and led me to the drawing room.

  We sat and I watched in silence as he untied the twine binding them together and looked through the stack. “Where do I start?”

  “I’m not sure they’re in order. But the older ones should be on the bottom. I just kept tossing them in a box as I finished them.”

  He nodded and turned the whole stack over before placing them on the table in front of him and picking up the first note. He broke the seal and it was then that I remembered which letter this would be. I had torn the original letter of introduction to pieces when it was rendered useless by his appearance at my home. This letter would be the one where I ranted about becoming queen.

  I had a feeling that he wouldn’t be moving onto the next letter for some time.

  Watching him read, his face first showed amusement, then concern and empathy. I kept expecting him to stop and address the topic of this letter, but he just read on, finally reaching the end, which caused a small smile to light his face once more. “Lily?”

  “What?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “You signed it ‘Lily.’”

  “Did I?” I glanced over and saw that he was right. “I guess I did.” I was curious what he thought of that detail, but was more anxious to know what he thought of the content. So I forced myself to wait, my hands crumpling my skirt.

  He glanced over the letter for several moments before speaking. “I remember you telling me that you would be queen. I would be lying if I said the prospect hasn’t caused me a good amount of anxiety.”

  “I was worried about that.” My voice was reduced to a whisper as a small seed of doubt entered my mind. His face was concerned, uncertain.

  “Are you certain you made the right choice?” he asked.

  My brow furrowed. “The right choice of what?”

  “Me.”

  My sigh of relief came out on a laugh and I laid my forehead on his shoulder. “I am not the least bit worried about your ability.”

  “Perhaps you should be.”

  His serious tone brought my worry to the surface again. “It’s a lot to consider. And I do wonder.” I raised my head so I could see his face. “Perhaps when we’re at my home, we should receive some instruction from my parents.”

  “Instructions on?”

  “How to rule a kingdom,” I suggested.

  “That won’t be our responsibility for some time yet. Do you suppose your parents will wish us to receive instruction before we are married?”

  “No, but don’t you want to know what you’ll be getting into before we’re already married and you can’t change your mind?”

  He stood, facing away from me for a moment before turning back. He clasped his hands behind him and bent at the waist so that he was at eye level with me. “I won’t be changing my mind. And I’m a little hurt that you would think my devotion to you could be compromised by the responsibilities that come along with your title.” He straightened and moved to step away, but I grabbed his arm.

  “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that…you didn’t aspire to this. And as—”

  “You didn’t aspire to this either, Lylin.” He sat beside me. “Which is one of the many reasons that becoming king isn’t going to scare me away.” He held up the letter. “It’s clear by what you say here that you are aware of what the burden will be, and I’m grateful that you take it seriously. But please know that I’m not going anywhere. If I were marrying a grasping, power hungry she-devil, then of course I would have second thoughts. But I’m not. I’m marrying you. And you are one of the most humble, level headed persons that I know. We will learn how to do this together. Though I have a hunch that this will all come naturally to you. And as for me,” he gave a shrug. “I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”

  The relief flooding my body made my eyes sting, but I managed to let out a calming breath. “It will certainly be an adventure.”

  He pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I look forward to any adventure with you.” He pressed the sweetest of kisses to my mouth before pulling back and putting on a serious face. “Do I dare read another?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pile of letters.

  I shrugged. “I can’t guarantee you’ll like everything you read, but I wrote them for you.”

  He picked up the next note in the precariously balanced pile. It was small, and his name was written in an angry scrawl. He broke the wax seal and read it quickly. Then he blinked several times before turning to me, regret written in his features. I glanced at the paper and read the words, It breaks my heart every time you smile at her, before Rhys put his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. He breathed deep before saying, “I didn’t realize just how hard it was for you. You handled it all with such poise, I thought it was easier for you than it was for me.”

  I pulled back so I could look at him. “Well, now you know.” I lifted one shoulder.

  “It’s a shame we couldn’t exchange letters in the first place. Everything would have been much less confusing.”

  “Would you have written me more letters?” I smiled at the idea.

  “I did write you more.”

  I froze in surprise at this casual admittance.

  He took in my shocked face, noting my inability to speak, and asked, “Did you think the ones I gave you were the only ones I wrote?”

  “Well…yes.”

  He smiled. “You remember the first night I arrived?”

  I nodded.

  “We argued in the stables and you gave me a letter. It was overly polite and impersonal, but there was an undercurrent in that letter that made me want to respond. So I did.”

  “What did it say?”

  He was on the verge of laughing. “It was quite rude. Blaming you for not trusting me, blaming you for…everything. But I knew none of it was actually your fault, so I burned it instead. I tried writing a response to your letter many times, but each one sounded as if I either didn’t care, or cared too much. I didn’t know how to write to you as though you were only a friend, someone I had helped.” He searched my eyes. “I don’t think I ever thought of you as just a friend, or just a maiden in distress. You were always more than that.”

  I could feel my mouth wanting to grin as his words soaked into my heart. “Did you keep any of them?”

  He shook his head. “None of them said what I really wanted them to say.”

  I nodded, understanding, but a little disappointed. I would have liked to read more of anything Rhys had written me.

  He squeezed my hand and put on a brave face before reaching for another of my letters. We spent the next hour reading and talking about the days we had each endured in silence, and how we had each coped with them. It was odd and completely wonderful to be sorting through that time with him. It left me with a lighter heart as we set out in the afternoon to return to the castle.

  We rode at a leisurely pace, enjoying the patches of sunshine coming through the trees, and the breeze that rushed across our path every so often.

  “Well, Highness.”

  I turned to face Nathaniel as he pulled alongside me.

  “I can admit when I’m wrong.”

  I had no idea to what he referred.

  “You told me that your feelings for Lord Fallon weren’t a problem and I insisted that they were. Clearly I was mis
taken.”

  I laughed out loud. “That’s very generous of you, Nathaniel, but we both know that at the time, it was very much a problem.”

  He just smiled. “Glad to see things have changed.” He trotted ahead to take up position at the front of our group.

  I shook my head in amusement.

  “He knew?” Rhys said from my other side, looking bemused.

  “He guessed. Nathaniel has been like a second father at times, never one to mince words.”

  “I always had the feeling he didn’t like me.”

  “Probably because I’m less likely to seek his assistance when you’re around.”

  He just laughed and we rode on. I was surprised at how excited I was as we approached the castle. I had been in the habit of finding reasons to be away from home over the past year, feeling more at home with Ella. But I was fully glad to be returning to see my parents, with Rhys by my side.

  We were welcomed with open arms, my parents anxious to sit down with us. They asked us about our journey and about Ella before Rhys took the opportunity to officially ask permission from my father to marry me.

  My father brushed the request aside. “You know very well that you are most welcome as a part of our family, Rhys. We’re proud that Lylin has chosen such a worthy man to be by her side.”

  “I’m sure I have much to learn from you, Sire.”

  “You do, but all in due time. I don’t want to overwhelm you quite yet.”

  “I just hope I’m equal to the task.”

  “None of us are equal to it. We just do the best we can.”

  Rhys gave a sober nod.

  “For now, Mr. Dale will show you to your room. And Lylin,” he turned to address me. “If you would stay for a moment.”

  Rhys accepted the dismissal, leaving me to speak at length with my parents about the vast amount of time I had spent away from home over the past two months. They were relieved to find me in such good spirits, and it was clear that their opinion of Rhys was as high as he deserved. When I had satisfied all their questions, I asked one of my own.

  “How is Raina?”

  They looked at each other, as though each asking the other how to answer. Finally my mother said simply, “She’s changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Go see her for yourself. I know she’s anxious to speak with you.”

  I left the room, curious to find out what they meant. I found Lorraina in our upstairs sitting room, reading by the window.

  The moment I saw her, it was obvious what change they meant. The mask that she had so carefully kept in place for years—the one that said she was better, the one that kept anyone from getting too close—had been stripped away. She looked up when I entered, her eyes somber, vulnerable, and fragile. Her whole being appeared softer somehow, like all of her hard edges had been worn away by her grief. It saddened me to see her so beaten down, but there was also an awareness in her eyes—like she was finally seeing me.

  Her mouth turned up, and her voice was soft as she observed, “You look happy.”

  I couldn’t help the grin that took over my mouth, proud to see her focusing outward instead of wallowing inward. “I am.”

  “Good.” She nodded too quickly, in a shy, awkward attempt at sympathy. “I worried about you. I know I’m not the only one this was hard for. I’m glad it didn’t ruin what you have with Lord Fallon.”

  I put my arms around her, and she immediately hugged me in return. “Thank you, and I’m sorry for everything.”

  Pulling back, I saw that her weak smile remained, but her eyes had turned contemplative. “He and I were so similar. It terrified me, seeing what he became.” She looked down at her hands, playing with a ring. “He ended up teaching me so much about what I don’t want to be. I’m grateful for that…but it’s not an easy thing to know about myself.”

  I tried to think of something, anything, to say, but nothing came. I just watched as she seemed to slip inside herself, deep in thought. After an interminable minute, she broke the silence. “I need to go away.”

  I was startled by the change of topic. “Go away where?”

  She shook her head as if it really didn’t matter. “I don’t know. I just need to be away from here.”

  “Why?”

  She turned to look at me like I was an idiot. And I felt like an idiot. “Right…” was all I could think to say. If she stayed here, she would have little to distract her from sitting about and contemplating her failed betrothal and her dead lover. “Where would you go?”

  She gave an unconcerned shrug.

  “You don’t have any ideas? Do you plan to just wander about the country like a vagrant?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself and turned away. I waited, sensing she did have an idea but was working up the courage to speak it out loud. She fidgeted with the lace around her wrists, then gave a sigh and kept her gaze fixed on the window as she said, “I want to study with a real master.”

  I didn’t need to ask what kind of master. Lorraina’s painting was something of a legend among our family.

  I tried to keep my smile to myself, lest she look back at me and think that I considered the idea silly. I didn’t, so as soon as I felt I could speak while keeping the excitement out of my voice, I said simply, “You should.”

  Her eyes cut over to me for only a moment, but a small smile played across her lips. I wished her the courage to do what she felt she needed, but kept silent and left the room.

  As I considered Lorraina’s idea for an adventure, I wandered down the hall toward the stairs. I was just putting my hand to the banister when Rhys’s voice stopped me.

  “There you are.”

  I turned to see him trotting down the hall, a grin on his face and something in his hand. “What is that smile for?” I asked as he stooped to kiss my cheek.

  “I have something for you.” He looked about before taking my hand. “Come with me.” He led me to the alcove where I had once waited for him to finish meeting with my father. “I want you to have this.” He held up a letter, sealed with blue wax instead of red.

  “I thought you said you burned all the rest?”

  “I did. But with so many honest letters from you telling me of your feelings, I thought it right that you have another one from me. I just finished it.” His face was excited, but also apprehensive.

  “Are you nervous about my reading it?”

  He gave a little shrug. “I’ve never had to watch you read one of my letters. I admit it is a bit nerve wracking.”

  I bit down on my smile, but could feel my face suffused with joy, still awed by the considerate love of this man. I took the letter, anxious to know what he had chosen to tell me.

  My Darling Lylin,

  I wish that words on a page could adequately tell you my feelings, but I know I simply won’t be able to do them justice. Please know that any sentiment I am able to convey in writing, the truth is even more.

  You have changed my world. I have always been devoted and loyal. I have always accepted responsibility and have never been afraid of hard work. I always thought I would be satisfied with the plan laid out for me by my parents. It was a respectable, noble, and even grand plan. I considered it a great privilege to have been invited into such a family as yours. It was all I ever aspired to.

  And then you showed up—a beautiful, frightened angel—and I started dreaming of something more than contentment. I started dreaming of joy, and laughter, and love. I even started believing it might be attainable. And despite the difficult road that you and I have trod in getting here, I am thankful for every step. Each twist in our path, each obstacle set in my way has taught me better how to love you, how to let you love me. You—with your unfailing honesty, your boundless compassion and even your very few flaws—you, my dear, are my dream now. I hope to live worthy of being your dream as well.

  All my love, all my soul, all my hope,

  Rhys

  I blinked moisture from my eyes as
I gazed at his handsome face, his eyes anxious and adoring all at once. “You are, you know.”

  “What?” he asked, moving closer to me.

  “You are my dream. You have been for a very long time.”

  He kissed my cheek. “Well, then.” He kissed my other cheek. “Now we can start dreaming together.” He pulled me to him, kissing me as though trying to prove I really was his dream.

  I never doubted it for a second.

  About the Author

  I WAS BORN in Utah, part of a crazy, fun family of nine. I grew up in Flagstaff, AZ and St. Louis, MO before striking out on my own college adventure in Virginia. I decided to try my hand at writing novels after I was married and living in Idaho. I write clean romance because it’s my favorite genre, but often difficult to find.

  I have Charlotte Brontë to thank for the courage to write novels. After being bombarded with assigned reading about women who justified abandoning either their families or their principles in the name of love, I had the great fortune of reading Jane Eyre. And that was it: finally, a heroine who understood that being moral and making the right choice was hard, and sometimes it hurt, but it was still worth it. After rereading it several years later, I realized that if I wanted more books to exist with the kinds of heroines I admired, then I might as well write a few myself. My books are about women who face hard choices, who face pain and rejection and often have to face the reality of sacrificing what they want for what is right. The consequences are often difficult or unpleasant, but in the end, doing what’s right will always be worth it.

  I believe there is no substitute for good writing or good chocolate. Fortunately, one often leads to the other.

  Note from the author

  THANK YOU FOR reading! I really hope you enjoyed this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. As an indie author, your support and feedback makes all the difference in how I judge the success of my books. Please take just a minute to leave a review for other potential readers, or visit my blog (www.annetteklarsen.com) and leave me a comment. Happy reading!