by E. A. James
“Many causalities,” an older guard said, face lowering.
Leonie sighed brokenly, chest aching. “I’m so sorry.”
The guard nodded, gaze still low as he set off to inspect the others that had fallen to the beast.
Adrik rested his fingers on her shoulder. “Leonie, you saved the rest of us. You have nothing to apologize for.” He glared at Froda. “Her lunacy was born out of her own sadistic ambition.”
“But others suffered because of it,” she said. She pointedly raised her gaze to the man chained to the bed.
He blinked at the ceiling, his mouth open as he breathed deeply.
Leonie's heart soared. “He’s alive,” she blurted, pushing past Adrik and limping over to the bed. “Thank the gods.”
The man’s face had regained some color, the flesh on his bones thickening more and more as the seconds went by. He still stared—eyes distant and breaths wet—but he was alive.
“Sir,” Leonie said, coming to his side. She prodded at the chain on his wrist. “Can you hear me? Can you understand? We’re here to free you.” The chain remained stubborn in its place. Leonie tightened her grip and struggled to pull it apart, arms quivering with the effort. “Sir?” she gritted out.
“I hear you,” he croaked, eyelids lowering. “And I thank you.” He closed his eyes fully, face relaxing.
“Stay with me,” Leonie said quickly. “Please, stay awake, alright?”
The man opened his eyes, wincing. “Alright, I’ll do what I can.”
Adrik went to the man’s other side. Then he grabbed the chain and squeezed it, the metal groaning and withering under the strong grip. As he pulled the metal upward, it cracked apart.
Leonie smiled, a breathless chuckle filling her mouth. “I’m envious, Adrik. Truly.” Her heart stuttered when she remembered his back—his stony flesh. “How are you feeling?”
He turned around and swiped at his blackened back. His hand came away covered in ash, but he had successfully rubbed away the black, the skin beneath remained intact.
Leonie nearly wobbled on her feet, she was so relieved.
“The heat was cumbersome,” Adrik said, moving to the man’s chained feet, “but I feel better now.”
“Thank the gods,” she said again.
“Or perhaps evolution,” Adrik said, smirking. “But to each his own.”
She rolled her eyes.
The man raised his free hand, clenching and unclenching it. The growing muscles in his arm contracted accordingly. “The gods,” he whispered.
“What?” Leonie asked, leaning closer to him as Adrik broke the chain on his ankle.
The man’s eyelids fluttered, cheeks coloring. “I…” He shook his head. “No, you must not know. You must not know about me.” He looked at her, and despite the bags under his eyes, his eyes still managed to gleam with raw fear. “Please, you cannot inform the world about what I am. It’s…Olnorma cannot know.”
“Why?”
He closed his eyes.
Adrik freed his other ankle.
“I’m sorry,” the man choked out. “I just…it’s for the best if shifters are myths. Or better yet, unknown. If our existence is revealed then our people will be in danger. Please, be merciful and keep this secret. My secret. Please.” He coughed, the sound practically silent it was so dry.
Leonie blew out a taut breath, her fingers tapping the edge of the bed. “I suppose it’s the least I can do, and I’m not certain people would believe me anyway. I already have a reputation for madness.” She glanced back at Froda’s corpse. “The real threat is gone, at least.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, a sob strangling him. “Thank you.”
Adrik frowned at her, his eyes conveying doubt, but he stayed quiet as he continued to free the poor man from his chains.
Leonie grabbed the man’s hand and squeezed. “We’ll take you to the healer, okay? No one will share your secret.”
He kept uttering his gratitude, his eyes falling closed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A few messengers were normally sent across the kingdom to shout out important news to the peasants, but King Gier felt it necessary for him to confirm the truth in the courtyard at least once. He had ordered that at least one member of each royal family in the kingdom come to the palace that day in order to hear what must be heard.
The king, swaying and grunting, climbed up to the top of a massive podium in the center of the palace courtyard—that dungeon door hidden by the tall structure. People of all kinds filled the courtyard, feet smashing foliage and elbows accidentally jabbing into ribs.
On the fourth story of the Northwest tower, Leonie stood beside an open window and stared at the King. Though she was some distance away, the anguish on his face was still clear. Her heart ached for him.
Adrik bumped her back, his chin centimeters above her head. “When will he speak? I wish to leave before the sun gets too low.”
“Give him time,” she said sharply. “He’s still grieving. Besides, why are you in such a hurry to leave? You could stay another night here, you know.”
“I prefer the wild,” Adrik huffed.
“With the bears?”
“Better bears than assassins.”
She opened her mouth to retort, only to stiffen when she heard the king loudly hack from the very top of the podium. She leaned closer to the window, her ears straining before the man even spoke a word.
“I need calm!” King Gier croaked over the whispering crowd. “Please, I need silence, I’m afraid I can’t rise above it as I once could!”
The whispers continued on for a few seconds before silence enveloped the people.
King Gier visibly shuddered, his head bowed. “It is with great sorrow that I announce to you that Princess Froda has died. She was discovered, torturing and killing in an effort to ascend to the throne before my time had ended. She betrayed our kingdom, our people! She planned to murder me, and to murder royal guests!”
Gasps burst out of some of the attendees, the silence growing even thicker seconds afterward.
Leonie swallowed, pressing both hands to her heart.
“She was killed in self-defense by those who found her plotting against us,” the king yelled, voice cracking. “I have exiled her husband, Prince Almund, in case he had conspired with her. Their children—my grandchildren—are under my care and protection now!”
He panted, blinking hard as his dulled eyes went blank. He wobbled a little and coughed. “I—I must also say that the Mad Duchess of Asawiss is not mad! She is a prophetess of the god Mathsus, and without her, I would’ve never realized my daughter wished to betray this land! Young Duchess of Asawiss, Leonie Dupont, is a prophetess! Not a madwoman! She saved our kingdom, and thus, she saved our people from the depths of war and death!”
Leonie’s cheeks burned. She backed away from the window a little—shadow falling over her face and her back pressing against Adrik’s chest. She jumped, but otherwise, she remained where she was. “I…I can’t believe he said that.”
King Gier ended his announcement, and then he made his way down the podium. The people below him and around him whispered frantically. Some hurried out of the palace while others remained stock still.
Leonie pressed her knuckles to her chin, mind racing. “I know it’s true, but what will people think?” She inhaled sharply. “My gods, what will my family think?”
“I don’t understand,” Adrik said. “Doesn’t this validate you?”
She stepped forward and turned to face him. “Well, yes, but…it also kind of makes it more known. This isn’t just a rumor anymore.” She bit her lip, eyes shifting to the window. “And I don’t feel like a ‘prophetess’. I don’t know if Mathsus will ever reveal himself to me again. What if he doesn’t? What if people expect me to be a medium for the gods?”
“They’ll probably treat you with well-deserved respect,” Adrik said, smiling softly. “Be honest with them, as you always have been. If they can’t handle it, then th
ey’re the ones who’re mad.”
Her lips curled upward on their own accord, something akin to giddiness buzzing through her veins. She fought against another blush and glanced away from his kind gaze. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Why would I say something that I don’t mean?”
“I don’t know. To be nice?”
He snorted. “I’m not a nice Gargan, Leonie. But I am honest. You’re one of the most honorable people I have known, and I’m sure that people will recognize you without the title of madness attached to your name now that this has come to pass.”
That blush did overtake her face, her smile widening, and her heart fluttering. She forced herself to look back at him, and she swore she saw adoration glinting in his imploring eyes. She reached for his arm. “I wouldn’t have made it if not for you, thank you for accompanying a mad duchess on her journey.”
His eyes widened a bit, joy sparkling in them now.
She touched his arm.
His attention snapped to her fingers, his face going slack.
Leonie winced and pulled her hand back. She was being presumptuous again—seeing romantic affection where there wasn’t any. Her chest tightened. Shaking her head, she walked away before he could read anything in her tensed expression. “I should be going then. My parents are probably worried sick.” She glanced back. “I’m really glad I met you, Adrik. I wish you all the best. Truly.” She headed for the stairs.
“Wait,” Adrik said.
She stopped and turned to him.
He glared like one did against blinding sunlight, confusion bright in his eyes. “That’s it? You're simply leaving and will say nothing more?”
She clenched her teeth, hot anger squeezing her breastbone. “Nothing more? Adrik, I must return home, and I can’t ask you to accompany me just for that. You have your own life to live, do you not? Your own family? What more can I say to you?”
Adrik opened and closed his mouth, shoulders falling.
Leonie sighed. “I need to be going.”
“I wish to accompany you further.”
Her eyebrows shot up, fragile heart lightening. “I…oh. But why? I don’t understand.”
“Must there be a reason?”
She nearly laughed, her brow lowering. “Under this context? Yes, I think there does need to be a reason.” She crossed her arms and tilted her head. “What aren’t you telling me? Is there something you wish to escape?”
“No.”
“Are you in some sort of trouble and need my help?”
“No.”
“Do you simply enjoy my company more than you wish to admit?”
Adrik’s cheeks turned a shade darker, and he scowled at the wall beside him.
Leonie smiled. “That’s very sweet!”
He groaned, eyes fluttering close for a few seconds.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to introduce you to my friends and family,” she said. “Though you should be warned, my siblings have never seen a Gargan before. They may ask you several uncomfortable questions.” She moved toward the stairs again, but she stiffened when Adrik remained still. Unease seeped into her. “Adrik? Is there something else?”
He stared at the floor. “I…I think I should tell you the truth about…”
She cocked an eyebrow. “About…?”
He inhaled shakily. “The truth about my feelings for you. I’ve found in our brief time together that I have come to care for you. I should have said that sooner, but I’m not good with…” His entire face turned a shade darker, gaze boring into the floor now. “I’ve never felt this way before, and I’m unsure of how to say these things.”
Leonie nearly choked on her own breath, her entire form freezing as her chest seared with so many emotions—delight, shock, hope—
Adrik walked back to the window and rubbed the side of his neck. “And I don’t know much about the Kingdom of Asawiss, other than that it’s always covered in snow. I don’t know your ‘customs,’ or whatever such nonsense is called. I’m not even aware if you’re promised to another—”
Swallowing back a giggle, she hurried over to him and hugged his back.
He bristled, glancing back at her.
She grinned against the fabric of his new shirt, the scent of him strong in the fibers. She inhaled deeply before saying, “I like you, too. I’m not promised to another, and I don’t expect you to know everything about Asawiss.” She raised her head a little, her chin pressing against the bottom of his shoulders and her eyes meeting his left eye. “I just want you to keep being you.”
He blinked, eyes glimmering against the sunlight. “Well…good then. I can do that.”
“Perfect.” She squeezed him, her lips brushing over his shoulder before she pulled back. “Come on then. It’s going to take us a while to get back home.” Giddiness tickled her flesh as she spun around, instincts itching for the need to touch him more. But this was new, and Adrik was clearly far from comfortable with affection.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her back, making her yelp as she crashed into his hard chest. Her fingers splayed out over his pecks as she blinked owlishly at her hands. Then her gaze snapped to Adrik’s face.
His eyelids lowered, a small smile gracing his lips as he gazed upon her. He canted his head like he was curious about something, but then he slowly leaned forward.
Warmth flooded her torso and tickled the back of her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself a little closer to him. And then, with a great deal of gentleness, he pressed his lips to hers.
Heat bloomed through her flesh, her mouth tingling against his. His lips were cold and rough, and they rubbed her against hers—when they parted—it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. His icy breath ghosted over her tongue, and she smiled into the kiss.
Adrik, she thought with fondness. My Adrik.
CHAPTER TWELVE
On their journey back to Asawiss, they traveled on the outskirts of villages for the most part. Whispers of the “prophetess” still put Leonie on edge, and she felt it best to hide from those seeking out some kind of divine intervention, at least for now.
She was also eager to get back home—to tell her parents of her journey and heroism, to brag to her siblings about it, to introduce Adrik to them all—her heart ached with longing at those thoughts.
Night sank into the horizon, starlight glittering over the sandy terrain.
Adrik had led her to a few boulders—a makeshift cave of sorts with the limitless sky above. There, they made camp, had their dinner, and drifted off to sleep.
White light seeped into her eyelids, the remnants of her dream shattering as consciousness barely grasped her mind. She cringed against the blinding light and struggled to open her eyes. She raised her forearm over her face, her awareness growing sharper and sharper as the seconds ticked by.
Her chest iced over once she realized the familiar nature of this feeling. She scrambled up to her feet. “Adrik?! Adrik?! What—?!”
“Calm yourself, child,” a familiar voice said, the light ebbing.
As the light shrank down amidst the darkness, Leonie lowered her arm and balked. “Mathsus.”
He looked on in silence. Floating a few centimeters off the ground—right where the boulders parted—he wore a robe of silver and a crown of orange light danced upon his head. Like before, his face was stoic, conveying no emotion and barely revealing any kind of movement.
Remembering herself, Leonie fell to her knees and bowed. “God of fate, I—I hope I have done your will.”
“Indeed, you have proven yourself capable of altering fate, just as I foresaw. It will make these coming years more…challenging.”
She furrowed her brow, her nose close to the sand. “I don’t understand.”
“An advantage to me, but do I want it? Must goals be achieved so easily?”
Leonie’s tongue felt like lead, pressed against the roof of her mouth as she struggled to comprehend the god’s words. After severa
l seconds of this, she dared to raise her head.
He seemed to smile at her, and his eyes narrowed. Then, in a silent and sudden implosion, he vanished.
She stiffened, gawking at where the god had just been floating. Her sense of time and space slowly returned and Adrik’s snore broke her from the trance.
“Are you certain it wasn’t a dream?” Adrik asked the next morning.
She glared. “Of course it wasn’t!”
Quietly, he shushed her and glanced around at the small village. Though they walked along a tiny back road—behind the main market buzzing with noise and activity—it wouldn’t take much for people on the main street to peer around the huts and notice Leonie, the supposed prophetess.