Crown of Coral and Pearl

by Mara Rutherford

  My eyes darted back and forth between the brothers, as different as sun and moon, wave and mountain. Talin’s rage was unmistakable, while Ceren sat as impassive as always, cutting delicately at a piece of fruit. He hardly faltered when Talin slammed his fist on the table and stalked out of the dining hall.

  “There now,” Ceren said to me. “I promised you a trip to the market, and a trip you shall have.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my eyes trailing Talin as he left. I would finally have the chance to warn Sami of how dire things were, yes. But by going to the market, I could be keeping Talin from the crown. And Talin might be the only person capable of stopping Ceren. I could only pray the king would last the week.

  * * *

  Our traveling party consisted of Talin, Grig, Ebb, two of Ceren’s guards, and me. Captain Osius was left in charge of the king’s guard, and the entire army, should it come to that. I was surprised that Ceren would risk Ilara’s safety by sending his brother away at a time like this, but he obviously thought Talin was a greater threat than the woman king.

  Without a coach or wagon at our disposal, we were forced to pack light. Grig attached my small bundle of clothing to my mare’s saddle while the other men filled their saddlebags with food and water. We would be staying in inns along the way, and I would have a few hours on Friday at the market.

  Grig hoisted me onto my mare’s back before helping Ebb into her saddle. She had grudgingly agreed to wear breeches and claimed to have some riding experience from her childhood, but she didn’t seem particularly excited about the journey. No one did.

  “We’ll meet with Lord Clifton this afternoon,” Talin said as we started down the road. One guard rode in front, the other at the back, while Talin and I rode side by side with Grig and Ebb behind us. We weren’t alone, exactly, but it was the first time we’d been anything close to it since our frantic ride back to New Castle.

  “It shouldn’t take long,” he added, “but we’ll have to ride late this evening to make up for lost time. I hope you’re prepared for it. Five days on the road isn’t easy for even a seasoned rider, and the inns we’ll be staying at are humble at best.”

  “You forget who you’re speaking to,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “I spent seventeen years in a house smaller than my bedroom at New Castle.”

  His eyes flicked to mine. “I have not forgotten.”

  We rode in strained silence for most of the day, but I couldn’t help glancing at him every few minutes, willing him to look back. At times the road narrowed, and our horses were forced so close together our legs touched, but all he did was apologize. Look at me! I wanted to scream. And occasionally he did, but he never smiled, and he rarely spoke. Even then, it was just to ask if I needed to rest.

  We stopped briefly for lunch and didn’t stop again until the late afternoon, when we were well past the River Ilara and deeper into Lord Clifton’s territory, Pirot.

  “Why are you meeting with Lord Clifton?” I asked, my curiosity finally getting the better of me. “I thought he was trying to steal land from your father.”

  Talin glanced down at me. “He is. Pirot is still part of Ilara, at least for now. But Father has been ill, and my brother’s concerns have been elsewhere.”

  “The woman king in the South?”

  “You know about that?” he asked, holding eye contact longer than he had all day.

  “A little. Lady Hyacinth invites me for tea frequently.”

  He smiled wryly. “Lucky you. And to answer your question, yes, Ceren is concerned about the woman king, though perhaps not as much as he should be. His experiments take up more time than anything else lately.” He reined his horse closer to mine. “Lord Clifton is an opportunist, but he has no military experience. His men are a bunch of mercenaries who only care about money and land. The woman king is more organized, and I think Clifton is scared.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Are you?”

  “Of the woman king? No.” He shook his head, then gestured ahead of us. “We’re here.”

  Talin asked Grig and one of Ceren’s soldiers to wait outside the encampment with Ebb and me, and I was grateful, remembering my uncomfortable encounter with the mercenary at the border. I sat in the shade of an apple tree with Ebb, enjoying the crisp fruit and the chance to stretch my legs.

  “I saw you talking with Prince Talin,” Ebb said, tossing an apple core lazily to the side.

  “And?” I didn’t bother with pretense anymore. Ebb knew most of my secrets now.

  “I’m glad to see you two speaking again. That’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Talin emerged from the tent, and Ebb leaped to her feet, pulling me up with her. “Apologies,” he said as he mounted his stallion. “That took longer than I expected.”

  “How did it go?” I asked him as Grig helped me back onto my mare.

  “Clifton will lend us his men if it comes to war,” Talin said quietly. “Of course, we’re to concede a large parcel of borderland to him in exchange for the men, but the land is hardly any good to us if Ilara is attacked. We’ll also have to allow more refugees across the border.” His face was serious, but I could tell from his tone that he was pleased with the outcome.

  “I’m glad it went well,” I said. “And I’m sorry that Ceren made you come with me. I know you’d much rather be with your father right now.”

  “It’s not your fault. I should be grateful Ceren sent me here and not to end another skirmish.” His expression turned wistful. “And I’m afraid I’m not much use to my father now. His fate is in the hands of the gods.”

  By the time we arrived at the inn that night, I was more exhausted than I cared to admit to Talin. He hadn’t been lying—the rooms were modest, with two narrow beds and a cracked porcelain ewer and bowl for bathing. I shared a room with Ebb and only saw Talin briefly that evening at dinner.

  The inn wasn’t full, but there was a constant stream of people through the dining room, and I found myself staring at the other customers. They were dressed simply in tunics and shifts, but not a single one of them wore mourning clothes. One of the advantages of living in Pirot, I supposed. They were all tanned from laboring in the sun, their faces creased from hard work and from smiling. There was more joy in this one inn than I’d seen in all of New Castle.

  Was this what Ceren hadn’t wanted me to see? That life outside of New Castle was far better than inside it?

  My sleep that night was the best I’d had since coming to Ilara. I could look outside the window and see the moon and stars. Our lantern was lit by flame instead of moss. And in two days, I would finally get to see Sami. How I would evade Talin and the guards I didn’t know, but I hadn’t come this far to give up now.

  We left early the next morning, Talin once again falling in line next to me. It was midmorning by the time he finally spoke.

  “You’re a natural, you know.”

  I glanced up at him. “What?”

  “On a horse. Who knew life on the ocean would prepare you to be a horsewoman?”

  I blushed at the unexpected compliment. “I’ve spent many hours balancing on the edge of our family’s boat, much to my mother’s dismay. And our cousins the Galethians are famous for their abilities on horseback.”

  “I’ve seen them at the port. It’s incredible how their horses obey them. They don’t even tie them up. Anyone who attempts to steal a Galethian horse will receive a swift kick in the unmentionables. They say the horse can only be ridden by its rider, and that a Galethian horse will protect its master in battle until death.”

  “I believe the Galethians don’t consider themselves to be masters of their horses, but rather partners,” I countered.

  “And how do you know so much about them? I thought the Varenians had no contact with Galeth.”

  “We don’t. But we pick up bits and pieces from the Ilarean traders.” It was a l
ie, but a small one. Everything I knew about Galeth I’d learned from Sami. “Did your mother ever learn to ride?” I asked.

  “No, unfortunately. She was always afraid of horses. She said anything that large belonged in the ocean, not on the land.”

  I laughed. “So what did she do for fun? I can’t imagine she loved knitting any more than I do.”

  “No, she didn’t. She liked walking, though. She’d walk for miles when she was allowed. For all his faults, my father did love her and granted her a relatively large amount of freedom.”

  “Then she was luckier than I am.”

  He looked back at Grig and Ebb, who seemed to be getting along just fine together. “Do you think you can manage a little trotting?” he called back to them. “We should try to make up some time. I believe it’s going to rain soon.”

  When they both nodded, Talin spurred his horse forward, and the little brown mare followed. I found the trot less difficult to sit now than I had the first time, but it was still my least favorite gait.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, sensing my discomfort.

  “Something feels off.” I peered over the mare’s shoulder. “Could she be lame?”

  “She does look a little sore. She’s newly shod, and she’s not used to such long distances.”

  I patted her on the neck and murmured an apology. “What can I do for her?”

  “She needs rest, but we still have some distance to cover. I suppose you could join me on Xander, get some weight off her.”

  “Your brother wouldn’t like that,” I said, hating that even when I was away from him, Ceren shadowed my thoughts.

  Talin smirked, reminding me of that first night we met. “What my brother doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

  The last time I had agreed to something against my better judgment—dancing with Talin—I had incurred Ceren’s wrath. But he was right. Ceren wasn’t here. And the thought of being close to Talin again was too tempting to resist.

  I glanced back at the guards. “What will we tell them?”

  “The truth.” He motioned for Grig to join us. “The mare is sore. Zadie will ride with me for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Grig tied the mare’s reins to his saddle and helped me dismount. When Talin reached down to help me up, I swallowed back my trepidation and took his hand.

  “Would you like to sit in front this time?” he asked.

  I felt confident on my mare, but Xander was a huge animal with a completely different demeanor. Still, Talin was looking down at me with such confidence that I nodded and let him pull me up.

  Once I was seated before him, our torsos touched from seat to shoulders, and I could feel the warmth of him even through his leather armor. As I took up the reins, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and I wondered if I was really as small in his arms as I felt.

  “Where are you going, Your Highness?” one of the guards called from behind. “Prince Ceren told us Lady Zadie wasn’t to leave our sight.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you aren’t Zadie,” Talin murmured in my ear. My body flushed hot, then cold, at his confirmation that he knew who I was. How long had he known? And was he happy I was Nor, or was he about to punish me in some way?

  “We’ll wait for you up ahead,” he shouted to the guards. Then he clicked his tongue and dug his spurs into the stallion’s sides, and we were off. I fell back despite what I thought had been preparation, but Talin’s solid torso was there to support me. Once I got over the initial shock, I managed to sit up straighter and focus on the task at hand.

  I felt like I was back in a boat again, riding the rolling waves, and I was so caught up in the sensations—of the horse beneath me, the wind against my face, the pull of the stallion’s head against the reins as he fought to go faster, the solid feel of Talin’s body behind me—that I forgot to be afraid.

  “Excellent,” Talin said over my shoulder. “You can give him his head, if you’re ready.”

  I nodded and let the reins out a bit through my fingers, and the stallion surged forward again. We were still on the road, but there was something about the sight of the green hills far ahead, the wide blue sky all around us, that gave me the same sense of freedom the horse must be feeling. I loosened my grip on the reins, giving him as much control as I dared, and let him go. Neither of us was free in any real sense, but for a moment, I could almost believe that we were riding away from the dark shadow of the mountain forever.

  I imagined Zadie waiting for me, just off the shore, and swimming out to meet her. We wouldn’t need to speak about what had happened in each other’s absence, because the only time that truly mattered was when we were together. It would be as if the time in between had never happened, like a bad dream forgotten when the light of morning warmed our cheeks.

  I knew then that I could never spend the rest of my life away from Zadie. Varenia, the ocean, even my parents—I could survive without them. But my sister was as essential to me as the sunlight, as the air. I would find a way back to her someday.

  By the time Talin took the reins and slowed the stallion to a walk, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I wasn’t aware of them until I felt his gloved finger against my skin. I closed my eyes, squeezing out the rest of my tears, and fell back against him, exhausted.

  “It’s going to rain,” he said. “We’ll wait it out in the trees.”

  He dismounted and led the stallion to a small grove of elms a little way off the road. He smiled up at me as we ducked under the foliage. “It’s a long way down,” he said, reaching up to help me. I slid into his arms, and for just a moment he held me above the ground, as if I was as light as a feather to him, before lowering me gently onto the soles of my feet. The leaves were thick enough that only a few drops made it through the canopy of trees, and I sank down onto the grass below them, sighing with relief.

  “You did well,” Talin said, settling back against the trunk of a tree. “I was afraid Xander would tire before you did.”

  “I like riding. It reminds me of being on the ocean in some strange way.”

  “I can understand that. My trip to Varenia was the first time I’d ever been in a boat. It was nice.”

  “And at other times, not so nice. One time Zadie and I—” I caught myself too late. I told myself it didn’t matter, that he already knew the truth, but it was a heavy reminder that I’d never be able to share my memories of Zadie out loud, to anyone. “I’m thirsty,” I said, rising shakily to my feet.

  “There’s water in my saddlebag.”

  I fumbled around with the straps on his saddle. I was finally alone with Talin, and I was going to have to tell him I’d been lying to him all along. I took a long drink from the water skin and was just tucking it back into the saddlebag when I heard a branch snap behind me.

  I whirled around to find Talin watching me.

  “What is it?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Now that you and I have a moment to ourselves, I think it’s time we had a little talk.”

  27

  I walked back to the trees, clasping my hands to keep them steady. “How long have you known?” I asked.

  “I suspected the first moment I saw you at Old Castle. But I knew for sure the night we danced.”

  “How?”

  He leaned against the tree next to me. “When you made that comment about Ceren being unpleasant. I know I only met you and Zadie briefly, but from what I gathered that night in Varenia, that didn’t strike me as something Zadie would say.”

  I could hear the humor in his voice, but I felt foolish for believing I could pretend to be my sweet sister. “No, I suppose not.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m the one who put you in danger with Ceren that night, dancing with you. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t fathom why you would be here and not Zadie. And to be honest, I was selfish. I nev
er thought I’d see you again, and then there you were, too tempting to resist.”

  I blushed, because I understood exactly how he felt. I had known the danger, and yet I hadn’t been able to resist him. Even now, I hungered for his touch, despite the fact that Ceren’s guards could return at any moment. I swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

  “The day you saved Ceren at the lake only confirmed the truth for me.”

  “When you saw my scar?”

  He nodded, his eyes lifting to mine. “I was afraid for you. Afraid Ceren had seen the scar and would somehow figure out the truth, or at least be angry that he’d been fooled. Do you have any idea how dangerous your position is?”

  “Of course I do!” I exclaimed. “How could I not?”

  “Then why are you here, Nor? Did Governor Kristos send you to spy on me?”

  “What?” The question was so unexpected I nearly lost my balance.

  “Just answer me, Nor. No more lies.”

  I was tired of pretending, and what was the use anymore? The truth was certainly better than letting Talin think I was a spy. At least not in the way he was imagining. “I came because of my sister.”

  His brow furrowed with genuine concern. “Did something happen to her?”

  “She fell in love. With Sami.”

  “Your betrothed? Is that what you wanted to tell Kristos that evening?”

  I nodded.

  “And you volunteered to go in her place?”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

  The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and several drops had made their way through the leaves to land on Talin’s brown hair, making the golden highlights glitter. The beads of moisture hung there like perfect crystal droplets, until he shifted toward me and they shimmered for a moment before disappearing, leaving darker spots in their wake.

  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed of going to Ilara one day,” I admitted. “I thought Varenia was too small and simple. I wanted to see the world, and ride a horse, and...”