by Ward, Tracey
I began to notice over the years that my feelings toward Roarke were changing. That the stutter in my heart whenever he was near began to make sense. The friendly love I carried for him as a child was becoming something different. Something heavier. More confusing. I no longer saw him as beautiful the way I thought snow or the crystal calm of the lake were beautiful. I now saw Roarke as handsome.
“Of course he’s handsome,” my mother laughed when I told her. “He always has been. You had best prepare yourself, because it’s only going to get worse. He’ll only get taller and more dashing. His mother says he’s been training with a sword. I know how you feel about that.”
My jaw dropped. “What do you mean?”
“Close your mouth, fish,” she scolded with a smile. I snapped my mouth shut. “Do you think I haven’t seen you when you watch the tournaments? Every time Patrick wins a match or blows you a kiss, you flush red as fire.”
“It’s because he embarrasses me!”
“He does not. You love it.”
I did. I did love it. I was the envy of every girl from ten to thirty when Duke Walburton carried my favor into a match. Father grumbled, saying it should have been Prince Frederick, even though Frederick wasn’t old enough to enter tournaments yet. Another fact my father conveniently ignored was that Prince Frederick was sixteen years old, becoming a man more and more every day and the object of every girl’s affections. There was a new woman on his arm every few days. He didn’t have time for a now scrawny tomboy such as myself nor did I have the patience for him. He’d taken to reciting sonnets and handing out roses, neither of which I had any desire or use for. My new favorite pastime was drawing out maps with Roarke. We’d arrange his hand carved figurines on them then wage violent, bloody wars against one another. Though the wars were gruesome, the figurines were so beautiful it made me ache to visit his village every time I touched them.
“Mother?”
“Yes, dear?” she asked, a grin still on her face.
“Can I tell you what I’d like for my birthday?”
“No, let me guess. A new corset?”
I scowled in disgust. “No.”
“Hmmm. A carriage perhaps? Really ornate? Completely insensible?”
“I’m barely allowed to leave the castle and I’m not supposed to go near horses. What would I do with a carriage?”
“I’m sure Rupert could pull it around the castle grounds for you.”
I snorted. “No.”
“Well, alright then,” she said with a sigh. She took a seat beside me on the bed. “What would you like, Miss Picky?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my nerve.
“I’d like to visit Roarke in his village,” I told her, my voice almost a whisper.
My mother didn’t move. I couldn’t be certain she continued to breath. I knew it was a lot to ask, probably too much to ask in fact, but I had to do it. I gained nothing by not trying. Though, as I looked at my mother’s frozen frame I had to wonder if I didn’t lose something by asking. If it didn’t cost her something to hear me want it.
Finally her chest rose and fell sharply.
“Is that really what you want? More than anything else?” she asked, her eyes searching mine. “Because you have to understand how very dangerous a thing it would be. Not only for us, but for Roarke and his family as well. If your father were to find out…”
I quickly grabbed her hands in mine. “It’s alright, mother. I don’t want it that badly.
“Yes, you do,” she said with a sad smile, “or you wouldn’t have asked me for such a thing.”
I bit my lip, unsure what to say. She knew me too well.
“I’ll try to speak to his parents. It would affect us all so it’s a choice we should make together.”
“Without father,” I said with a knowing grin.
My mother rolled her eyes. “If he had his way, you’d be locked in a glass case until you were sixteen and we’d never have any fun.”
“He’s certain I’ll marry Frederick, isn’t he?” I asked suddenly. I’d never asked about my betrothal before, though I’d always felt the weight of it.”
My mother’s brow pinched in concern. “Yes.”
“And I have to do it, don’t I?”
Her lips grew tight. “Yes.”
“I—“
“If it weren’t true, what would you do?” she interrupted, her words tumbling from her mouth as though escaping from prison. “What would you want?”
I blushed but I looked her in the eyes. When I spoke, it was without hesitation. Without shame.
“I’d marry Roarke and I’d leave the island forever.”
She laughed faintly, nodding her head. “I would that it were possible.”
“But it’s not, is it? Father wants me to marry Frederick so that’s that.”
“Yes, he does, but it’s not up to him. It’s not up to any of us.”
“It’s up to the King and Prince Frederick,” I agreed.
“No,” she said solemnly. “It’s not even up to them.”
***
In the end I got my way, just as any spoiled child does, regardless the cost to others. In my defense, I did not know what would come. What this night would bring. But life plays out as it will and what happened that night set into motion a myriad of other movements that, in the grand scheme of things, were necessary evils. All I knew then, and what I still know to be true today, is that from the moment I saw him, all roads led to Ro.
On the night of my birthday Roarke’s father met me outside the gates after my mother and I left together. She continued on to have dinner with Duke Walburton and, should anyone ever ask, he would say we had both been there all evening.
“Excuse me, milady. I’m waiting for the child, Annabel Lee.”
Roarke’s father stood tall against the falling shadows. His smile made him radiant against the darkness. He even looked a little beautiful now that I could see Roarke in his features.
I blushed, feeling embarrassed and strange.
“Don’t tease me, sir. You know it’s me.”
“I do. I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you in years. I’m afraid I’d forgotten how much you would have grown. You’re not a child anymore. You’ve become a young lady.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’. We’re not so formal where we’re going.”
“I don’t actually know your name.”
He grinned. “It’s Kian. I imagine you don’t know my wife’s name either?”
I shook my head, feeling foolish. “I’ve only ever heard her called ‘mum’.”
“Well you can call her that if you like, she’ll answer you gladly. Or you can call her Bronwyn.” He offered his arm to me. “Shall we?”
I adjusted the rough material of the plain black cloak my mother had given me, making sure the hood covered my head of blond hair. Beneath it I wore a simple cotton dress in a dark green color. Mrs. Pomphel had purchased it for me in town, intentionally choosing something ordinary so I would blend in with the Tem Aedha. She was the only person besides my mother who knew where I went on delivery days. Who knew who I had befriended all those years ago. There was no excess of lace or bows on the dress, no rigid corset linings, no billowy skirts. It was the simplest of simplistic things and I loved it dearly.
I heard Kian chuckle softly as I fidgeted with the cloak. I quickly scanned my clothing, wondering what I had done wrong. What custom of theirs I would offend.
He shook his head at me. “No, Anna, you’re perfect as you are. I was only thinking how ridiculous this is. Clothing can’t hide the light of you. I could see you glowing were it midday on the brightest day of the year.”
I smiled, blushing. “You’re teasing me again.”
“I am not.” His voice grew solemn. “I caution you to be careful. The stars in the sky will become jealous.”
It was quite a journey from the castle to the woods. We passed through the main city of Kilmarnock where
merchants were tidying their store fronts and closing up for the day, ready to head home to their families. We followed the road out of town until it was no longer an intricate mesh of cobblestone but a well-worn dirt path, hard packed into remarkable smoothness. It wove us around the lake where the fisherman lived, those not brave enough to risk the heartier catches in The Shallows. We passed through small clusters of homes that looked like impromptu villages and headed out into the farm lands. They spanned the majority of the island and rested in the only section of land that wasn’t solid rock. I had heard it said that the land was nearly impossible to till, that it had been a barren wasteland in the past. All before the Tem Aedha had appeared. Before they changed everything.
The sun began to set, casting the forest in deep, uninviting shadow just as we came upon it. I was nervous as we entered, suddenly less eager for a visit to this foreign world. All my life I had heard ghost stories and rumors about the forest. Strange tales about violent animals or cruel plants that could eat a grown man alive. Most of the stories, however, centered around the Tem Aedha. Around their connections to dark spirits of the forest or savage magical practices. I was smart enough to know that most of it wasn’t true, that it couldn’t possibly be true, but rumors had to come from somewhere, didn’t they? Some kernel of truth must lurk inside them?
“Are you afraid?” Kian asked me quietly.
I found him watching me closely, his eyes intent on my face.
“A little,” I admitted. Had it been Roarke asking I never would have admitted it. As it was, I hoped Kian didn’t tell him about this moment.
“There’s no need to be. You’ll be perfectly safe here. I swear it.”
Hesitantly I offered my hand, silently asking him to hold it. He smiled as he took my hand firmly in his. It was an affection I wasn’t accustomed to from men. The warmth and strength radiating from his skin chased the chills from my spirit, leaving me burning with bravery.
“So?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “Do we press on?”
I nodded once firmly before squaring my shoulders. “Only cowards would turn back now.”
His rumbling chuckle preceded us into the dark woods, lighting our way.
I expected that evening in the woods to be miraculous. To be life-altering. Fantastical. Magical, even if a bit terrifying. I prepared myself for all manner of enchantment. Faeries in the flowers, unicorns by the stream, dragons in the skies. I would have been content with a witch or a long bearded wizard even, but I found none of it. It turns out that the truly exotic nature of the Tem Aedha lies in their pure simplicity.
The village was closer to the mouth of the forest than I anticipated. We walked a short distance, rounded a bend and there we were. While the outskirts of the forest were dark, the interior of the village was a warmly glowing mecca. There were buildings everywhere, telling me instantly that there were far more Tem Aedha than the King had any notion of. Why didn’t they come here to see that for themselves? As far as I knew, no one from Kilmarnock had ever been here. No one of the kingdom traveled farther west than the farmlands we worked together. Were they not allowed or were they too proud? Considering the ease with which I entered this village, I was inclined to believe it was pride.
The buildings were beautiful. They were all earthen in material and color, pressing up against the trees for support. The entire village looked to be built with the forest rather than in it. The sight of this bustling town full of beautiful tall, brown skinned people seemed the most natural thing in the world to me. As though they’d always been here. As though they belonged here.
While the main city of Kilmarnock had been closing down as we walked through it, this village was coming alive. Children were playing in the open square, mothers were bringing meals out to long, large tables. It looked as though entire neighborhoods ate together, sharing the meals as a family. And perhaps that’s exactly what they were; enormous families.
“Is it what you expected?” Kian asked, leading me through a group of children playing a game I recognized. A game Ro had taught me. I smiled at them as we passed.
“I don’t know what I expected, but this was not it.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s wonderful.”
He draped his arm across my shoulders, tugging me into his side. He was so warm, so solid and he smelled of pine and clean linen. It was pure heaven.
I asked a million questions ranging from what people were eating for dinner to what the buildings were made of. Kian chuckled at every fresh inquiry but he answered them all. Many people nodded to him as we passed, wishing him a good evening and eyeing me with curiosity. A few times he stopped briefly and spoke business with a passerby. Each time he surprised me when he introduced me to them, always simply as ‘Anna’. They asked him a lot of questions about how to proceed with all types of business affairs, giving me the impression that Ro’s father was a man of some importance here.
“What do you do, sir?” I asked, unsure if the question was rude but too curious to suppress it.
“Call me Kian, never sir. And I’m a farmer.”
I looked up at him skeptically. “Just a farmer?”
He shrugged, reminding me of Roarke. “Among other things.”
“What other things?”
“You are a curious one, aren’t you? Ro warned me about that. He suggested we bring you in blindfolded.”
I scowled. “He did not.”
“He did. He said you’d ask too many questions otherwise and we’d never make it to the house before dawn.”
“He thinks he knows everything,” I grumbled, remembering the first time I met him and his smug little face.
“That he does. His mother as well.” He chuckled to himself. “She just happens to be right.”
When we reached the end of a long dirt lane strewn with quaint cottages tucked among the trees, Kian led me into the farthest on the left. It was nearly identical to all of the others accept for a small ornate carving hanging above the door. It was a symbol I had never seen before. I desperately wanted to ask what it was, what it meant, if it was in a different language and, most importantly, if it was magical. But Kian’s teasing about my curiosity and Ro’s insistence I be blind folded helped me hold my tongue.
“Hullo!” Kian called into the house.
“Did you bring her?” I heard Bronwyn call out just before she appeared. She wiped her hands quickly on a towel before embracing me firmly. “You made it. You’re here at last.”
“Thank you for having me,” I told her, surprised by the embrace she continued to hold me in. “My mother reminded me again and again how dangerous it could be for you.”
“Oh pfft,” Bronwyn scoffed, stepping back. “Your father and your King, they don’t scare us. I worry for you, though. And for your mother. You’ll be careful once you’re back? You’ll never mention it to anyone? For her sake?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be careful.”
“Good,” she said, cupping my cheek affectionately.
Her hand lingered for a moment as she stared at me, her eyes slipping out of focus. Then a frown tugged at her mouth as her fingers gently began probing my cheek bone. She looked sad suddenly, as though my skin, my very bones, had told her their secrets.
I felt my cheeks flush red with humiliation. I stepped back quickly out of her reach, bumping gracelessly into the closed door behind me. I felt cornered. Trapped.
“Bronwyn,” Kian warned gently.
Bronwyn shook herself, her eyes regaining their focus. She stepped away from me quickly.
“Excuse me, Anna. I’m sorry. I’ll just finish up in the kitchen. Take off your cloak and give it to Roarke. He can hang it for you. Roarke! She’s here, love!”
I was suddenly left alone in the entryway of this warm, cozy home in a forbidden forest with a man who by all accounts could talk to the trees and his wife had, I was fairly certain, just somehow seen into my mind. I was immensely, deeply and truly uncomfortable.
Then Ro came
striding into the room looking more natural and at ease than I had ever seen him, and all of my worries washed away. I wasn’t thinking of his mother and her gentle, knowing hands or my father and his hard, hurtful ones. All I knew was that he was here, that all that was wrong in my world could someday be made right. It didn’t have to be by him, I knew very well that the odds were that it wouldn’t be, but he held such promise just in the way he breathed that I couldn’t help but look at him and know I would prevail.
“Hello, Anna,” he said, grinning.
“A blindfold, Ro? Truly?” I asked him hotly.
He and his father both laughed.
“Don’t be angry at me. You know how you are.”
“I didn’t ask that many questions,” I lied, looking to Kian for support.
He put his hands up in supplication.
“But you were dying to, weren’t you?” Roarke asked, stepping behind me to remove my cloak. “You still are.”
“Is this what you do to people on their birthday in your village?” I asked, shrugging free of the cloak. My dress was so light, it left me so unconstrained I nearly felt naked in it. I turned to face Ro, feeling happy and wild. “You’re rude to them? You make jokes at their expense?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he stood there staring at me blankly.
“What?” I asked, frowning. “What now? Did I wear the wrong color? Maybe the pattern on my dress is Aedha script for ‘I’m a dunce’?”
He shook his head, bunching the cloak in his hands. “No,” he said seriously. “I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.”
I looked down at myself, then back up at him. “I didn’t know what to wear exactly. Your mother just said simple. Is it alright?”
He nodded, a smile forming on his lips. Then he quickly stepped past me, disappearing without another word.