by Cheree Alsop
A person sat hunched over in a chair pulled next to the bed. Andric. He held his head in his hands and leaned his forehead on the bed; his dark brown hair hid his face from me. I couldn't tell if he was asleep.
“Andric?” I whispered.
A dark head rose beside him and Bayn's golden eyes glittered in the faint light. On my other side, Freis stood up and whined.
Andric lifted his head, his gaze confused and exhausted. Then his eyes focused and he stared at me as if he couldn't believe what he saw.
I gave him a small smile.
Andric rose without speaking and sat on the side of my bed so that he faced me. His eyes held mine as if he thought I would disappear. He lifted a hand as though to touch me, then set it back down uncertainly on the bed. “Are you alright?” he finally asked in a tight voice.
“Yes,” I said with a nod. The motion brought a wave of nausea from the sharp pain in the back of my head straight to my stomach. I grimaced and fought down the urge to lose whatever was left of my last breakfast.
Andric's eyes widened. “What? Do you hurt?” He looked as though he didn't know whether to stay or run to get Jesson.
I held a hand to my head until the pounding slowed, then gave him a wry smile. “I guess I'm fine unless I move. I need to see if Jesson has any peppermint salve to get rid of this headache before it kills me.”
His jaw tightened and I regretted my poor choice of words; then he smiled, relief stark on his face. “Kit, I thought I lost you,” he said softly. He gently touched just below my cheekbone where a line of ointment covered the mountain lion's claw mark. Andric moved his hand to the back of my head. I winced when he touched the sore spot. “Sorry,” he whispered. He sighed and leaned down to put his forehead against mine. “You're too brave for your own good,” he said softly. His breath touched my lips.
I looked up into his dark eyes, so close to my own. They burned into mine, holding me, memorizing me. When I breathed, his scent filled my lungs and my heart skipped sideways in my chest. His forehead felt cool against mine, his skin smooth. “I'll try to be more careful,” I said breathlessly.
He gave a shallow nod and his hair tickled my cheeks pleasantly. “You better.” He frowned, a worry line forming between his eyes. “I thought I lost you,” he repeated. This time, I saw the pain in his gaze.
“It takes more than a little cat to put me down,” I replied, though both of us knew how very close to being 'put down' I had really been.
He sighed and moved back. My forehead tingled where we had touched. “What I am going to do with you, Princess Kirit.”
“Kit,” I said firmly. “Just Kit. You know that.”
“Yes,” he replied with a hint of regret in his voice. “I do know that.”
This time, it was my turn to frown. “What's wrong?”
He gave me a tight, wry smile. “You mean besides the fact that you were almost killed by a mountain lion more than quadruple your size, and that my people were fighting for their lives against a horde of cannibalistic monsters three days ago?”
“Three days ago?” I sat up, then grabbed my head when the room spun and my brain threatened to explode.
“Whoa, now,” Andric said, rising quickly. He eased me back down on the pillows. “No sudden movements. Do I have to get Jesson?”
“No,” I replied sullenly. I kept my eyes closed to stop the spinning.
Andric's gentle fingers smooth my mussed hair back from my face. Ice and fire trailed his touch and made my heart pound. He stopped and I opened my eyes to find him rubbing his forehead with one hand.
I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “Have you had any sleep?” I asked.
He shook his head. “How could I?” he asked softly. He took one of my hands in his and studied it. I realized that it was wrapped in a bandage just above the wrist; my wet sword handle now made sense.
Unfortunately, thinking of the sword led immediately to other memories of the battle. Bloody faces, a piercing yowl, and an overwhelming number of flesh-chewing Breizans invaded my mind. Panic made my blood pound in my ears.
“Did everyone get back?” I asked, aware of the sudden urgency in my voice.
He nodded and ran a finger along my hand, soothing me. “Everyone that could, made it. We brought the others home to be buried and mourned. Bown's going to be alright, and I think Sleek will, too.” He gave a slight smile.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Andric said. At my persistent stare, his smile grew. “I thought I lost you and here you are worrying about others instead of the fact that you nearly died.”
I shrugged. “Wouldn't want the mission to have been a waste now would we?”
He shook his head. “No, we wouldn't.”
A yawn overtook me before I could stop it, and the worry returned to Andric's eyes. “You should sleep.”
“Apparently I've been sleeping for three days. You'd think I wouldn't be tired,” I protested.
“Yes, but I can tell you are. Get some sleep, alright?”
I nodded; each of my limbs felt extremely heavy. But at the thought of sleep, the image of Breizans flashed through my mind again. I trembled.
“What is it?” he asked quickly. He knelt down beside the bed.
“I'm afraid to close my eyes,” I admitted. My voice was quieter than I would have wished.
His expression softened and, without warning, he leaned over and kissed my uninjured cheek. “I'll keep you safe, my little warrior.” A blush rose to my face, centering around the place where his lips had touched my skin.
He rose and pulled his chair closer. I protested in an effort to hide the way my heart pounded at his nearness, “You need sleep more than I do. I'll be fine.”
“I won't have you afraid to fall asleep in my own castle,” Andric said.
“And I won’t have you dropping out of exhaustion when you have people to lead,” I replied. My words slurred slightly from fatigue.
He shook his head. “Your health means much more to me right now.”
I could tell I was losing the argument, then thought of a compromise. It would push every boundary we had, but I was so tired I didn’t care about propriety anymore. I could barely keep my eyes open, but was afraid of what I saw when they were closed. It was the only way I could think of to sleep without fear of reliving the battle. I moved over gingerly, then said in a voice as worn as I felt, “This bed is big enough for ten people. It’s better than you falling asleep in that chair.”
He studied me for a minute, his expression unreadable. The shadows below his eyes made them even more unfathomable than usual. He swayed slightly with weariness as he stood, the dim light playing across his face.
“They couldn't get me to leave you,” he finally admitted as if searching for anything to say. “I told Jesson to get some rest. He'll be anxious to know you're awake.”
“Tell him in the morning,” I replied, fighting to keep my eyes open. “I don't need any more people losing sleep on my account, and maybe they’ll let you rest if they think you’re still here waiting for me to wake up.”
He shook his head and my heart fell in a way that hurt. I blinked and felt tears on my cheeks. I couldn’t explain them other than my pounding headache, the weariness that spread through every inch of my body, and the fear of what my dreams would bring. I turned my face away and lifted a hand to wipe my cheeks.
Andric caught my hand in his, then the bed dipped as he leaned over and brushed the tears away with the back of his fingers. “Don’t cry, little warrior,” he said in a soft whisper. He curled my hand in his and settled on top of the blankets, his face turned toward me.
The nearness of him made my breath catch in my throat. My body wanted to curl next to him, to feel the comfort of his warmth and sleep in his arms, but I settled for putting my other hand over his and not questioning the confusing thoughts that cluttered my weary mind. “Good night,” I whispered before my heavy eyelids drooped shut.
“Good night,” he rep
lied quietly. I could feel him watching me, a comforting presence to chase away the nightmares, but I couldn't force my eyes to open. “Good night, Kit,” he whispered again as my thoughts drifted away.
***
I crouched down and looked between the two boulders. Instead of Bown, I found Father injured and waiting for rescue. His eyes widened when he saw me, then filled with tears. He held out a hand, and I reached for it. A non-human scream rattled the air. Breizans swarmed from the trees, the snow, and behind the rocks. I pulled out my sword, but it was broken. I fought, but they pulled me away and made me watch as they attacked Father. His screams pierced the air, then turned into my own.
“Kit, Kit, wake up!”
I opened my eyes, my cheeks wet with tears. My throat hurt as if I had been screaming. My head pounded horribly. I blinked and tried to remember where I was.
Andric’s face hovered above my own. His dark eyes searched mine. “You’re alright. It was a nightmare.”
I closed my eyes tightly and felt more tears squeeze free. “It was horrible,” I said past my rough throat.
“I could tell,” he answered. He pulled me close and wrapped me in his arms. His head settled on top of my chin and I felt safer than I ever had before. I set a hand on his arm and felt the muscles ripple underneath. “You’re safe,” he whispered into my hair.
I nodded and sleep stole me away again into a blissfully Breizan-free dream.
Chapter 19
When I awoke late the next morning, it was to a full room of smiling faces peering down at me, quite the stark contrast from the moonlit night with Andric. He was the first one I saw, leaning next to Jesson with a smile on his face. The circles under his eyes had lessened, but not by much; I felt a pang of guilt for keeping him up with my nightmares, but his expression was carefully guarded and didn’t let on what he thought about the night.
Captain Jashe and Falen were there, along with all of the Crowns. Tisha and Kaerdra had tear stains on their cheeks. Trevin's arm was wrapped and bound in a sling, while Danyen had a bandage around his forehead. I saw Kimber peering anxiously from the doorway, and gave her a smile which she returned immediately. Drade, some of the soldiers from our trip, and even Smithy Hensas watched me with encouraging smiles. My cheeks flushed from the attention.
“How do you feel?” Jesson asked as he checked my pulse.
“I think I'll make it,” I told him; chuckles rose around the room in response.
He grinned. “Do you think you can sit up? I need to check those bandages.”
I remembered not to nod. Kaerdra surprised me by helping me up while Tisha pushed the pillows behind my back. The room spun and I closed my eyes, but it slowed quickly. I was embarrassed at the concern on everyone's faces when I opened them.
“I'm alright,” I said, blushing again.
Andric grinned. “I think we all have things to do,” he said to the others.
Smithy Hensas laughed. He stepped forward to ruffle my hair, towering over me. “Your sword's done,” he said with a wink. “A little late, but it's perfect. I might be a bit biased, but I think it's the best sword I've ever made.”
“Hey!” Kenyen protested behind the Smithy.
I laughed. “I can't wait to see it,” I told him sincerely.
He nodded with a beam of pride and turned to leave the room. When no one else followed, he motioned, “Give the Princess a little space. She's had a rough couple of days.”
The others hurried to obey his gruff tone; before they left, each came over to tell me how glad they were that I was alright until I was certain I couldn't be more red with embarrassment at all the attention. By the time Trevin closed the door behind him, leaving only Prince Andric, Jesson, and Kimber, I wanted to curl up under the covers and hide.
“They're just glad you're safe,” Jesson said, reading my expression accurately.
“I hope they’re as concerned for the rest of the Antorans that were injured during the fight,” I replied, overwhelmed.
Andric chuckled. “It's not the same, you know. It's not every day a foreign princess risks her life to save an Antoran citizen.”
I frowned at him, then winced when Jesson touched the sensitive spot on the back of my head.
Andric's tone changed. “Is it bad?”
Jesson put new bandages on the wound and began to wrap my head again. “No; it's better than it could have been. When I saw all the blood I feared the worst, but it's just a gash. You're lucky you're skull wasn't cracked,” he said, addressing me now. “It sounds like you hit that rock pretty hard.”
I frowned, remembering. “Was Mylena hurt when I pushed her?” In my fear, I remembered shoving her hard to get her out of the mountain lion's way.
Jesson shook his head. “Mere scrapes; nothing compared to what she would have suffered if the lion had gotten her.” He gave me a kind smile. “They want to thank you, you know. Bown is under orders to stay in bed until Jesson clears him, but he's already asked Prince Andric's permission to have a party for you when he's better.”
Concern filled me. “But what about the families who lost loved ones in that fight? Wouldn't it be cruel to have a celebration while they're in mourning?”
Jesson finished tying the bandage around my head and turned to get his salve for the cut on my cheek.
Andric answered my question. “Not in Antor. Loved ones are remembered for the joy they brought while here, not the sorrow left behind. We celebrate life and help each other to not get lost in the death of a family member. The celebration will be as much for them as for you.” His brows drew together when he said this, as if he feared I would think the Antorans callous for their traditions.
But it made sense to me. I thought of families who had lost loved ones back in Zalen. The tradition was for the family members left behind to wear black and mourn solemnly for a year. I had a clear memory of a young boy about nine years old who had lost his father a few months earlier in a ship accident. He was having fun with his friends in the street when his mother scolded him roundly for playing when he should have been mourning like a grateful son.
How much better would it have been for the boy to rejoice in the memory of his father rather than focus only on the pain of losing him? I'm sure the father would rather his son play a game of ball in the sun with his friends instead of mourning indoors in black.
I nodded. “Then I'd be honored to have a celebration with their families.”
Jesson smiled and Andric looked relieved. “It'll be done.”
A polite tap at the door announced one of Andric's heralds. “My Prince, your presence is required in the judgment room.”
Andric's face clouded. He turned to me apologetically, but I smiled. “Go ahead, your country needs you more than I do.”
“Does it?” he asked, his eyes unreadable.
Before I could figure out what he meant, he left the room.
Jesson smoothed the salve on my cheek. “You'll have a slight scar, but it could be worse.”
“A lot worse,” I agreed distractedly. I hesitated, then said, “Prince Andric’s tired.”
Jesson nodded, unsurprised. “He works hard, and the people love him for it.” He wiped his hands on a clean white rag as he continued, “He started young and put a great effort into it because of that, convinced that the only way the Antorans would take him seriously was if he dedicated himself to them entirely.” He gave a slight smile and a wink. “What he didn't realize is that they loved him already. They knew to some degree what happened to his father, and couldn't help but love him when he gave up everything to serve them in the King’s stead.”
“He's young to be ruling,” I mused quietly.
“Very young, but my wife often says he seems older than all of us.” Jesson gathered up his supplies. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked, surprised.
“For being his friend.” He gave me a kind smile. “And for not being biased by what you were taught about Antorans before you came here. We're not that bad.�
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I laughed. “No, not bad at all.”
With his help, I rose from the bed and waited on wobbly legs while he summoned Kimber, and then left me in her capable hands. She practically beamed when she saw me up and set about helping me change from the soft beige sleeping gown someone had dressed me in, which I found to my relief had been her.
I sat patiently in a light blue dress while she gently worked a comb through my hair. The bandages were in the way and very inconvenient, but when I offered to just take them off, Kimber turned white in dismay. I then had to convince her I was just kidding. I could tell by her worried expression that she thought the bump on my head had caused more damage than Jesson surmised.
“Your hair is so long,” she commented, then caught herself and glanced at me in the mirror as if afraid she had offended me. “It’s beautiful, m-my Lady,” she rushed on. “Most hair around here is dark, and yours is like spun gold. I didn’t mean-“
I cut her off with a warm smile. “It’s alright, Kimber. I appreciate your opinion. You can say whatever you’d like, even if you hate it.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “But I don’t hate it at all. I love your hair and I’m honored you allow me to brush it.”
I met her eyes in the mirror. “Kimber, be honest with me.”
Her face paled. “I have always been honest with you, my Lady.”
I held up a hand to appease her. “I know, and I appreciate it. What I want to know, honestly, is what you would like to do if you weren’t attending me.”
She opened her mouth, saw how serious I was, and shut it again. She ran the comb a few times down my hair in silence.
“Honestly, Kimber,” I prompted.
She swallowed and her eyes darted to the door, then back to my gaze in the mirror. She took a nervous breath, then let it out in a loud rush. “I want to work in the gardens.”
At my smile, she dropped her eyes and looked embarrassed. “It’s silly, really. It’s just that my mother always grew flowers in our window box, and they remind me of her. I thought I might have a green thumb like she did.” Her voice caught and she turned away.