Thief Prince

by Cheree Alsop

  Another blanket settled gently across my shoulders and I felt Andric kneel on the blanket beside me. He lifted his arm and I ducked under it so that I cried against his already wet chest. The tears were cold on my cheeks as the setting sun stole the remaining warmth from the air.

  “You're not alone,” Andric said after a few minutes, his voice thick with emotion.

  I turned my head and saw that he, too, had tears in his eyes. “You're crying,” I forced out past my tight throat.

  He nodded, his dark eyes glittering as tears slid slowly down his cheeks. “I've been alone since my mother died, and I've never had anyone to even talk to until you came here.” He wiped the tears from one of my cheeks with his fingers. “You will never be alone, I promise.”

  “How do you do it?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “How do you let someone go and move on as though there isn't a dark void in your life where they used to be?”

  Andric's expression darkened. “My life is one dark void,” he said quietly. “When Mother got sick, Father used to tell me to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. But he didn't take his own advice.” Andric's jaw tightened. “When Mother left, Father left as well. He lost himself in his mind. He forgot me, he forgot our people, and he eventually forgot himself.”

  A sob escaped his lips and he turned his head away. “He forgot his own son who was hurting just as badly as he was. He left me alone to rule a country even though I was only twelve and barely able to find myself after losing my mother.”

  “What did you do?” I asked. Fresh tears filled my eyes for his pain instead of mine.

  He was quiet for so long I thought he wasn't going to answer. He finally took a deep breath. “I threw myself into ruling, pushing my pain and sorrow away to deal with later, telling myself that there were other people who needed my time more than I did.” He turned back to look at me, his eyes clouded. “I've never talked to anyone about it until now. I was always afraid that if I did, I would lose the control I've gained over the pain. There are too many people counting on me to let that happen.”

  “I couldn't do it,” I said. “It's bad enough that I'm close to losing my brother. I don't think I could handle my mother and father being gone.” I saw their worn, haggard faces as they had been in Rush's memory. They looked so different from the proud, confident parents that ruled side by side over Zalen. I wondered how they would cope if they did lose Rory. More tears slid down my cheeks at the thought that I wouldn't be there to help them through it.

  I leaned against Andric's chest and felt his tears fall in my hair as he held me. “It'll be alright,” he whispered quietly. “You'll get through this. I’m here for you. We’ll do it together.”

  I nodded, though the tears refused to stop. My sobs eventually slowed and I fell into an exhausted sleep against him. A long while passed before his breath slowed and he slept as well, holding me close against the cold.

  At nightfall, we were awakened by Andric's head steward, the same kind steward I had met at the outdoor picnic. The elderly man had brought our cloaks with him. There was no judgment on his face when he handed them to us and gathered the blankets we left.

  “Handmaiden Kimber has hot chocolate and a bowl of warm soup waiting for you in your room,” the steward said with a bow. He turned to Andric, a kind twinkle in his eyes. “The same for you, my Lord.”

  “Thank you, Trayd,” Andric said gratefully. He turned to me. “Are you alright?”

  I nodded and gave him a small smile. “Better, thank you.”

  He nodded and led the way off the roof, the discreet steward following behind.

  Chapter 17

  Andric changed the big dinner gatherings to once a week, which gave us time to relax in the evenings and cut down on the heavy use of Antor’s supplies. I spent my time between the forge helping Cutler Maes fashioned our hilts; at the stable visiting Trae who was almost completely healed from his sword wound, and on the roof with Andric during the few moments that he could steal away from his duties as ruling Crown Prince.

  Andric was always exhausted after long days of working with his counsel. Some days he was more closed off than others, and I could tell that he had been making hard decisions. With this being their last winter in Antor, there were a lot of issues to be resolved; I didn't know how I would handle the same situation.

  The Antorans tried valiantly to be brave and put on a good front, but we saw the dwindling supplies and the more simple fare served at the group dinners. The Antorans needed help; they just didn't have anything that they could trade to the other countries in return. It made me frustrated, and I voiced my opinions on more than one occasion to Andric about how it was wrong that the other countries had let Antor fall to such ruin.

  “It's our fault for relying on only one commodity; we didn't plan on the diamonds running out, and that the other kingdoms would stoop to stealing them instead of trading. We should have prepared better so that we were self-reliant.” He looked out across the snowcapped land; dark lava rocks created a stark contrast to the white landscape. He shook his head and his wavy brown hair fell unruly across his forehead. He had told me once that he didn't wear a crown to remind his people that their king still lived. I thought it a noble and selfless gesture, but he waved it aside the way he did with many of his noble acts.

  He pushed his hair back and frowned in frustration. “I just keep thinking that we didn't look hard enough. There's got to be more that Antor has to offer.” Bayn paced the roof, then paused to look over the edge before lying down at Andric's feet. Freis, who had curled up near my legs to keep me warm, rose to move closer to her mate.

  The wind whipped my hair around, free for once of its usual braid. I seldom had time to do much with my long hair, and had threatened more than once to chop it off so that it was easier to deal with, but Mother had forbidden me to do so, saying that princesses were to look elegant for their suitors. I compromised by stubbornly refusing to wear it in more than a braid. With everything we did here, it was easier to keep it out of the way.

  But I had just finished a late afternoon practice with the girls to prepare for the duel they refused to give up. They were getting better and by the time we were done, I had to swim in the baths to freshen up for dinner with the Antorans. I left my hair down to dry in the brisk winter breeze, something nursemaid Morren would have had a fit over back home.

  “Why don't you wear your hair down more often?” Andric asked, cocking his head to watch me braid it with well-practiced fingers.

  “It gets in the way,” I said. I sighed as a lock flew free, forcing me to start over.

  “I like it down,” Andric said. He caught my hand to stop me.

  A jolt of lightning ran through me at his touch and my heart jumped.

  Our relationship felt as though we were two long lost friends who had been looking for each other our whole lives and just didn't know it until we met. We laughed and joked and let down our walls in ways we never could around the others, but it was also a careful relationship. We were both aware of the precariousness of our situation, and of the fact that Crowns were not allowed to marry each other and leave a country heirless, as one of ours would be in either situation. So we were good friends, someone to talk to in confidence.

  But I couldn't help admiring the way Andric treated his castle servants with respect, and how they treated him because of it. He was kind to everyone, even if he kept very careful walls up no matter who he dealt with. Trayd, the head steward, seemed to be the closest thing he had to a true friend, and he asked the older man for advice if a situation required a serious decision that would affect many people. The fact that Andric had no one his age that he trusted made me sad.

  There were very few times when the Prince revealed how much the burdens he carried affected him. The time we cried together on the roof had been one of those, and I had only seen it twice after that. Once, when I found a hidden patch of beautiful blue snow roses and had wrapped them to take up to King Fayne's ro
om, I found the King asleep and Andric sitting in a big armchair next to the fire, tears on his cheeks and his jaw tight as he stared into the flames. I turned and quietly left him to his thoughts, knowing the interruption wouldn't be pleasant for him.

  The other time was on the roof not too long ago, just after he had been confronted at one of the dinners with the Antorans. The family that appeared at the doors bore hard countenances and grim expressions. They had demanded in front of everyone why Andric didn't lead the townspeople through the mountains to pillage the other countries just as their own diamonds had been stolen.

  Andric reminded them that the majority of Antorans had agreed that stealing wasn't the way to live; though they had succumbed to it for a while, it wasn't a dependable source of the supplies needed to keep Antor running. They had decided instead to go out with their honor. They would more likely be welcome in the southern countries if they didn't precede it by further theft.

  The family had been furious when they left, and a few of the Antorans at the tables left as well. I saw the sadness in the Prince's eyes when the doors shut behind them, but he calmly apologized to the gathering for the interruption and invited them to continue their dinner. I wandered the halls that sleepless night and made my way to our normal lookout. I found him there, his fists clenched and skin chilled with the bite of winter he didn't feel.

  He refused to talk about it, but when I turned to go, he asked if I would wait with him for a bit. We watched in silence as the eastern mountains edged in faint gray that soon blushed to smoky red, chasing the darkness away with the first rays of the morning sun. I shivered and Andric had given me his cloak; I could still remember the way his scent stayed with me when I finally made my way downstairs to catch a few hours of sleep before the others were up.

  “I'll leave it down then, just for you,” I forced myself to say, my voice skipping only slightly as I undid the braid.

  Andric stared at me for a moment in silence.

  I smiled and said with false lightness, “But it'll drive me nuts all day and I'll blame it on you.”

  Andric nodded and smiled. “Fair enough; I take your blame. It's worth seeing the way the gold shines in your hair.”

  He turned and led the way to the door and down the stairs, unaware of the way I tripped over my own feet. I was glad that he didn't know my true feelings, but at the same time it hurt to see his ignorance, because sometimes it felt like rejection. I knew we couldn't get involved, but it would help to know that this was as hard for him as it was for me.

  ***

  At dinner, I thought about my family. Over the past few weeks I found myself getting homesick at strange times, sparked by a familiar scent, the cast of certain shadows, or the sweet rolls at dinner that tasted just like the kind Cook Mumphrey made. Those thoughts usually turned to Rory and wondering how he was doing.

  After the first time, I didn't feel the urge to see him through Rush's memories. It was hard enough to hear how Rory's health went up and down between each letter. Mother told me that after she read him my letter, he seemed to get noticeably better. I took that as encouragement and started to write him every day. But after the first improvement, he went downhill again. I found it harder after every letter to keep positive, but I forced myself to write about the activities we were doing, even though Mother expressed her concern when I mentioned the duel I was helping to train the girls for.

  Father asked questions about the animals, and I tried to explain the relationship between the animals and Antorans the best that I could, knowing that it might also help me later on. I could tell when I was done that he still didn't understand, but he tried and that was something at least.

  The other Crowns spent most of their time at the castle. The girls did crafts and I participated in those I wouldn’t mess up too horribly, we all practiced our swordsmanship, and the boys entertained themselves by dueling and racing. Though the twins were still angry about being in Antor, they finally accepted the fact that they really didn't have a choice at this point. There was still a lot of grumbling and complaining between Nyssa and Brynna, but they enjoyed the dances that took place once week after the dinner with the citizens.

  Both girls whispered about which of the boys would ask them to dance. Brynna liked Danyen, which wouldn't be a horrible thing if Danyen didn't mind going to Eskand and leaving Kenyen to rule Tyn. Nyssa and Kaerdra danced with whoever asked, as long as it was a Crown. Landis and Tisha spent as much time as they could together. They seemed happy no matter what they did, and minded our confinement in Antor the least because it was an excuse for them to spend all of their free time together.

  Dinner was just winding down one evening when the doors to the banquet hall opened and a woman came in. Those eating grew silent with shock when they saw the fox that she carried was wrapped in bloody rags. The woman shook as she made her way toward the table where we sat with Andric. He rose and hurried around the table toward her, his wolves flanking either side.

  “He's up there somewhere, Honorable Prince,” the woman said in a quavering voice when she reached Andric.

  Everyone had risen to their feet, and several citizens came forward to comfort the distraught woman.

  “Who's up there?” Andric asked, his eyes on the bleeding fox. The animal shuddered, its eyes half-open and glossy.

  “My husband. He was hunting and didn't come back last night. Sleek made his way home in this condition, though I don't even know how he made it at all.” She hugged the fox, tears rolling down her cheeks. “They must have been attacked.”

  “I'll lead a search party for your husband,” Andric told her. “But the fox is in no condition to go back up the mountain. He needs care right away.”

  Two servants exited discreetly out of one of the side doors and I knew they would be back with Jesson.

  “We've got to find him,” the woman said. “Sleek wouldn't leave him unless it was the only way to get help.”

  Andric nodded, visibly troubled. Then it seemed he and I had the same thought. He lifted his eyes to mine questioningly. I hesitated and glanced at the other Crowns, but it no longer mattered when someone's life hung in the balance. I nodded.

  Andric smiled gratefully. “Mrs. Voise, I have someone who can talk to Sleek and find out where your husband is. Is that alright with you?”

  Her eyes widened and she nodded quickly. “Oh yes, please hurry.”

  “Crown Princess Kit?”

  Silence followed my name, and as I walked over to them, I could feel every eye on me. I imagined how horrified the Crowns would be, and I tried not to care. I chased the thoughts away and cleared my mind, then set a hand on the fox's blood-soaked back.

  Pain coursed through my body. I gasped in surprise and took my hand away; my back tingled where it had been filled with pain moments before. I could hear whispers spreading around the banquet hall and tried to shut them out.

  Andric caught my arm. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded, shut my eyes, and touched the fox again. This time, he seemed to understand what I was doing. Instead of projecting his pain, Sleek forced it to go into the background. It was still there coursing through both of us, but it was clouded by the images in his mind.

  The fox showed me a man that I guessed to be Mrs. Voise's husband. The image came with a myriad of scents, sounds, and an overall feeling of belonging. It was the same feeling I got from Andric's wolves when they showed me either him or other members of their pack.

  The image turned to a memory of the man trudging through the snow as the fox walked lightly by his side. The sun was setting and shadows colored the air in gray and black. Sleek saw as much with his nose as his eyes, and took the lead through the twisted trees and large boulders. He and the man touched minds often, searching for large game that would be settling down at this time of the evening.

  It wasn't until the animals were almost on them that Sleek scented the mountain lions. The big black and gold streaked creatures the size of small bears ha
d outdistanced them and climbed into the trees to wait for them to catch up. Sleek cried out a warning to Bown Voise, but one of the lions sprang out of the trees above them and landed on Bown.

  The man yelled, twisted out of his backpack, and rolled away, leaving the huge mountain lion to worry the cloth to shreds. A second mountain lion pounced, knocking Bown against a tree. Sleek jumped between them and nipped at the lion in an effort to drive it back. The animal swiped out a paw faster than the fox could dodge. Sleek yelped as the claws caught him across the back and one side, slamming him against a boulder.

  He heard Bown yell and forced himself to his feet again. The man had his back to the tree and was now fending off both lions with a knife. His head bled from where it had struck the trunk; he held one hand against his side and grimaced in pain. Sleek could smell the dark blood oozing from the hidden wound.

  “Run, Sleek,” Bown growled.

  Sleek refused, turning instead to dart around the boulder in an effort to find an escape for Bown. He found small opening where two boulders rested against each other and would just fit the man, though if he didn't have his knife he would be easy prey.

  Sleek sent the image to Bown and the man understood. He made his way backwards slowly through the trees, the knife darting out to keep the spitting, hissing mountain lions at bay. Sleek darted to each side of Bown, heedless of the blood that poured from the lacerations along his body. If a lion got too close, he flew at it nipping and tearing with his sharp teeth, then dodged back before another lucky swipe could catch him.

  Finally, Bown fell back into the opening between the boulders. The back of it was closed by a rise in the earth, and he still had his knife to fend the creatures off from the front. Sleek ran past the opening, chasing the mountain lions back as far as they would go. They stopped by the trees and hissed, ears flat against their skulls and bright white teeth bared like brilliant daggers.