by Cheree Alsop
I grabbed her hand. “It’s not silly at all.” I smiled up at her from my seat on the bench. “My mother likes to grow things, too.” A lump rose unexpectedly in my throat at the thought of her excitement when Father brought a wagonload of rich dirt from the forests near Veren. “I miss her,” I admitted out loud.
Kimber raised her eyes slowly to mine. “I miss my mother, too.”
I gripped her hand tightly and blinked back tears at the loss in her voice. “Us girls have to stick together,” I said in a conspiratorial whisper.
She grinned and the lines of worry disappeared from her face. “I’ve seen the way you take care of yourself. You need someone to remind you to take it easy.”
Her eyes tightened as if she worried she had stepped over the line, but I laughed and touched my head meaningfully. “I definitely need someone like that.” I paused, then smiled. “Tell you what. Help me take better care of myself and I’ll see to it that you get a chance to work in the gardens.” I glanced at the snow that fell past the window. “If they do garden here.”
“There’s a small garden,” she reassured me. “It’s just covered in snow right now, and most of the year.” The relief and happiness in her voice cheered me. She ran the comb through my hair again, then asked, “Would you like me to braid it like you usually do?”
I was about to say yes when I remembered my promise to Andric that I would wear it down. “I think it’s alright unbraided.” I met her eyes in the mirror. “What do you think?”
She hesitated, then another smile lit up her face. “It’s beautiful down. You’ll be the envy of the entire city.”
I grimaced at the dull, persistent ache from the back of my head. “I doubt that, but we can pretend.”
We smiled at each other and I felt like a young girl for the first time since arriving at Antor. It was good to feel carefree if only for a moment, and the way Kimber’s expression practically glowed when she left the room made even my aching head worthwhile.
I was grateful dinner was to be in the room on the second floor. I didn't think I could deal with many people all at once. Freis met me on the stairs and walked with me to the door. I kept a hand on her head and it steadied me.
At my entrance, the Princes and Princesses rose and I blushed again. The girls rushed over and led me to my seat while the boys all tried to get my chair, leaving the servant whose job it really was to stare at them in amusement.
I caught a smirk on Andric's face from where he waited quietly behind his chair for the others to resume their seats, and it was all I could do to keep from sticking my tongue out at him. He was enjoying it way too much. But when I sat down I had to put a hand to my head to stop the pounding caused by all of the commotion, and I glanced up to see a worried expression on his face. I shot him a reassuring smile and turned to the others.
“You look so much better!” Nyssa exclaimed. Brynna, Kaerdra, and Tisha all nodded in agreement, making me wonder how bad I must have looked when they brought me home.
“I can't believe you killed a mountain lion single-handedly,” Trevin said, his eyes wide in awe.
I laughed, then regretted it at the increased ache in my head. “Actually, the lion did most of the work.” When they pressed me for details, I explained what happened from my point of view in my best storytelling voice. The girls’ eyes widened with horror, while the boys kept asking for all of the grisly details. Andric listened quietly with his face an expressionless mask and his eyes concealing any thoughts he had about my story.
***
It was only later that night when I went to the roof in an effort to clear my persistent headache with the crisp night air that I found out how Andric really felt about everything.
“You should be asleep,” he said when I opened the door and found him staring out at the dark mountains.
“So should you,” I reminded him, surprised by his guarded tone.
“I wasn't the one who almost got killed.”
I frowned and crossed the remaining few feet between us. “Why the sudden hostility? I thought you were worried about me.”
In one smooth motion, Andric turned and grabbed my arms firmly. “Hostility? You laugh about the fact that you almost died and you think I'm hostile?”
At the pain in his eyes, I stuttered, “I'm sorry-”
He cut me off, his dark eyes passionate. “Do you understand how precarious your position is here? How much you've done since you arrived? You've touched my people more than I ever could.”
I shook my head, surprised. “That's not true. They love you; they-“
He frowned. “It's not a bad thing, and I'm not upset. I'm just. . .” He threw up his arms in frustration. “I don't know what I am anymore. You confuse me more than anyone else I know.”
Tears pricked at my eyes and I fought to keep them from breaking free. “I think I should go now.”
I turned to leave, but he caught my hand. I refused to look at him. “Kit, I'm sorry.” When I couldn't find the words to respond, he sighed. “I don't know why I'm upset. Well, I do; I just don't know what to do about it.”
I forced the question past the knot in my throat. “Do about what?”
He pulled gently at my hand again and I turned slowly, afraid of what I would see. At the look on my face, he simply stared at me, his eyes wide. “Look what I'm putting you through,” he said quietly, more to himself than to me.
The sorrow and regret in his voice broke my heart. “I'm fine,” I lied.
He shook his head. “No, you're not. You've been through a lot in the past few days and I'm making it worse.” He turned his head away. “I don't even deserve you as a friend, Kit.”
The tears broke free, spilling down my cheeks. I stepped forward and hid my face against his chest.
Surprised, he froze, then put his arms around me gingerly as if he thought I would break. A finger of cold twisted about my legs and I shivered. He pulled me tighter. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I said, my voice catching. “I'm just a little emotionally unstable right now and I'm blaming it on the bump on my head.”
“Convenient,” he replied into my hair. “But what excuse do I have?”
I hugged him tighter. “You have a whole country on your shoulders, and are doing a much better job than anyone I know has done at twice your age, but you give yourself no credit for it.” My heart constricted. “You don't see the impact you have on your people. They love you more than you realize.”
He was quiet for a long time. I listened to the rhythmic pounding of his heart. My own slowed. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “I care about you, Kit. I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone or anything.”
My heart skipped several beats; I stepped back to look at his face. He stared down at me, his eyes unfathomable. He reached out and wiped the tears from my cheeks with a gentle hand that shook slightly. “I didn't plan for this to happen.”
“Me neither,” I said softly.
His eyes clouded and he looked past me. “I never realized how much I didn't feel until I met you and saw how you brightened everything you came in contact with.” He looked back at me and gave a half smile. “Even me.” He pushed a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn't know how closed off I'd become. I guess. . .” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I guess I was as lost as Father the day Mother died; I just never knew it.”
“You're not lost anymore?” I asked softly.
He shook his head, hesitated, then shrugged with a wry smile. “Let's just say not as lost,” he concluded with a laugh. Then he fell quiet and I watched as the lightheartedness faded from his eyes and the laughter from his face. It made my heart ache to see him close off again. “But you're a Crown,” he finally whispered.
Everything crashed down around me at that simple truth. “And you rule your kingdom,” I replied, trying to keep the heartache out of my voice and failing entirely.
He opened his arms and I step
ped into them. This time, the tears didn't fall. There was no reason for them, and we both knew it. We had a duty to our countries, and neither could leave our people without a ruler. We held each other for a long time, safe but heartbroken within our little bubble that would burst the second we let go. It was never to be, and the hardest part was accepting it.
I shivered in the cold night air and it seemed to bring Andric back to himself. “You really do need to sleep,” he whispered. It sounded like goodbye.
“You, too,” I said into his chest. “You work so hard.”
“You make it worthwhile,” he replied with a hint of a smile in his sad voice.
I hugged him tightly for a second, then stepped back. “I-I. . . .” Words eluded me as I looked at him, the starlight in his gaze, his dark hair unruly. He still had circles under his eyes and shadows beneath his cheekbones. There was no one to take care of him, and he always put himself last below everything else. I wouldn't be able to take care of him. My eyes stung. Without a word, I turned and fled the roof and the Prince who watched silently after me.
Chapter 20
Our trips through the city began to show more of the effects of the poverty-stricken country. Families whose homes fell in disrepair due to the lack of supplies abandoned their houses to move in with other family members. Prince Andric's stewards and staff carefully rationed food so that every family received just enough to get by, which sometimes seemed meager indeed. Medicine was of short supply, and I spent a lot of my time with Jesson making what salves we could out of his remaining herb stash.
We brought soup to the sick, helped mend broken roofs, repaired fences to keep the remaining livestock in, patched clothing, and carried food to those who couldn't travel to the castle for the weekly rationing. I admired the way the Antorans worked to keep their spirits up, but could tell that the thought of leaving their beautiful but barren land broke some of them, driving them to tears when they thought no one was watching.
The weekly dinners in the banquet hall were a special treat and gave us all something to look forward to. The week when Bown Voise was deemed fit enough to get out of bed was a happy one. Mylena and I spent a lot of time together preparing for the celebration; it heartened me to see the families of those who had lost loved ones during the battle preparing for it as well.
They created beautiful banners and reminders of their loved ones' accomplishments to be displayed in the banquet hall during the festivities. Everyone helped each other, and laughter made a pleasant harmony as we hung streamers and decorated the tables.
After the ride to save Bown, smiles were everywhere. I was greeted by numerous people each day who knew my name and at least one of the amazing versions of the tale of how I saved Mrs. Voise. It was amazing to me how twisted the story became, and my favorite was one of how I had killed not one but five lions with nothing but a sharp stick.
The Princes became favorites with the children, all of whom flocked close to hear stories of our countries below the mountains. They especially liked Landis' descriptions of the animals, for they seldom saw anything but snowshoe hares, foxes, eagles, and the animals that had bonded to various Antorans. Landis' description of a water buffalo had them bursting into laughter, and they couldn't get enough of Trevin's accounts of the giant sea snakes that sailors saw out in the ocean.
The girls, myself included, made dolls with the little children out of anything we could find. It was a competition among us to see who could be the most inventive, but I think the prize ultimately went to Brynna when she made a baby out of one of Cook Syra's big wooden spoons. When the cook saw the spoon dressed in a blue painted burlap bag with beads for eyes and curly yellow yarn for hair, she merely smiled and didn't have the heart to take it from the little blue-eyed girl who treasured it.
The night of the celebration came quickly, and everyone enjoyed the escape from daily struggles and the chance to dance. The dinner, though simple, was amazing, a true tribute to Cook Syra's abilities. Andric made her join us and everyone complimented the food and her staff until she beamed with pride.
After a dessert of honeyed oatcakes, the doors opened and Mr. and Mrs. Voise came in. Mr. Voise walked slowly, but smiled at everyone. I ran over and hugged them both. Everyone laughed and cheered. Men rose to pat Bown on the back while the women hugged Mylena.
When the enthusiasm died down, Mr. Bown said that he had a present for me.
“I'd be honored if you would accept this small token for saving my wife and I,” he said, drawing something out of a small bag he carried.
My mouth fell open when I saw a beautifully worked, intricate chain on which hung a single claw that had been polished until it practically glowed. The claw was huge, close to the length of my palm. Looking closer, I saw that an image had been carved into it, the image of a fierce mountain lion.
“I don't deserve this,” I said in awe.
Bown smiled. “This claw was from the lion that would have killed Mylena if you hadn't been there,” he explained; his eyes glittered moistly. “We understand if you don't want to wear it, but it would honor us if you'd accept our gift. We weren't the only ones who worked on it.”
“It's beautiful,” I said honestly. “I would be honored to wear it.”
Bown gave me a big smile before slipping the chain around my neck. I studied it. The black claw shone and was as smooth as a stone worn from years in a stream. The carved mountain lion had been inlaid with white sand and sealed over so that it, too, was smooth. The silver clasp the chain ran through was shaped like two paws with claws unsheathed. The tip of the big claw was coated in polished silver.
“We weren't diamond craftsmen for nothing,” Mylena said with a warm smile that grew at my obvious admiration of the gift.
“Thank you,” I told them both. I searched for other words to show how much the necklace meant to me, but came up at a loss in the face of such beauty.
“No, thank you,” Mylena said. She threw her arms around me. Bown joined her, and then so did Mylena's closest friends followed by Bown’s until I was squished in the middle of a huge, happy hug.
“Alright, then. Who's up for dancing?” Andric asked.
The crowd around us cheered and yelled, and the musicians scrambled for their instruments. The tables were moved out of the way and within a few minutes, the floor was full of laughing, merry Antorans. I made my way to where the other Crowns stood by the head table.
Trevin, still munching on an oatcake, gave me a toothy grin. “That's neat,” he said with his mouth full, indicating the claw.
Landis picked it up and appraised it with a knowing eye. “Craftsmanship like that should bring them a fortune.”
“Except they have nothing left to craft unless Kit kills another lion,” Kaerdra said with a grin.
I laughed. “They'd better hide from me now!”
Behind us, a polite cough made us turn. Ayd bowed low, a small blue snow flower in his hand. When he rose, I was surprised to see him look straight at Nyssa. “For you, Princess,” he said, his face slightly pale but his voice steady. “I would be honored if you would give me the pleasure of a dance.”
I gritted my teeth, worried about Ayd's embarrassment when he was rejected; but to my astonishment, Nyssa blushed. “I would love to,” she said. She smiled at us sheepishly and accepted his hand.
All of us watched, stunned, as the overjoyed Hawkmaster escorted her to the middle of the room where they twirled and melted in with the graceful pandemonium on the dance floor. I exchanged glances with Andric who stood near enough to be part of our circle but not too close that his presence might be an imposition. He grinned at me, then schooled his face to a wall of warm politeness once more, nodding at the citizens who came over to thank him for the wonderful evening.
Landis and Tisha joined the dance next, followed by Danyen and Brynna. I was even more surprised when Kenyen asked me to dance. I stuttered about how it was rude to leave Kaerdra by herself, but Andric swiftly stepped in and asked for her hand with a p
olite bow. Together, the four of us walked to the dance floor.
There was something special about the feeling in the castle that night, the way Antorans and foreigners laughed and danced without regard for rank, the hour, or the desperate times to come. It was as if everyone was determined to forget everything else and give themselves up to enjoying the evening. Nyssa danced two more songs with Ayd, then accepted the hand of a young farmer so shy he could barely meet her eyes. Not to be outdone, Kaerdra and Brynna were gladly escorted back onto the floor by two dark-haired brothers.
I danced somewhat gracefully with Kenyen, and only stepped on his toes once. He was a gentleman about it and blamed it on himself even though he danced with the same grace he used when wielding his sword. I sat out the next dance by choice and was swarmed by a group of younger girls and boys who begged me to tell them about the mountain lion. Young men and women drifted over to listen, and I found myself nervous at the attention. I had to school my talking so that I didn't rush and fall over my words.
The listeners leaned in as I described the snow and the shadows. I skipped the details about the Breizans because they were still children and deserved to live in the innocence of youth as long as possible. I told about finding Bown and how brave everyone was when an unknown danger attacked us. I spoke of the relief at finding ourselves safe again, then described the shape of the mountain lion as it jumped through the air.
My heart began to pound as I relived the sight of its reaching claws and the glint in its golden eyes. I described seeing Mylena in danger and the way my body reacted before my thoughts could even comprehend what was happening. I told them the lion’s body felt like a battering ram when it crashed into me, and they laughed when I pushed away my fear of the memory by saying at least I was warm underneath its huge body.
I stopped at the point where the lion was on top of me and I could hear everyone calling but couldn't free myself, because that was all I remembered. I paused, then was surprised when a voice behind me took up the story.