by Cheree Alsop
My father's brow creased, then he motioned to me. “My first concern is to get my daughter safely home. We will address this at another time.”
Andric nodded, his head still bowed. My father motioned to us, and the others ran past to their waiting fathers. Bayn lifted his nose and I brushed it with my hand as I passed, trying to send reassurance for him to pass onto Andric. I stepped into my father's arms and hugged him tightly.
“I was so worried,” Father breathed into my ear, holding me as though he would never let me go again.”
“I'm alright, Father. We're all fine,” I tried to reassure him.
Heedless of my words, he held me back at arm's length so that he could look me over again. A frown touched his lips at the scar on my cheek from the mountain lion's claw. He brushed it with a finger.
“It's a long story,” I said. “You'll hear it later, I'm sure.”
He nodded. “You've grown taller,” he said with a calculating eye. “And you've lost a bit of color from all this winter, but you look stronger. Is that your sword?” His tone was careful.
I nodded, but didn't know what else to say.
He gave me a small, weary smile, and I remembered that they had just crossed the mountains. “It seems like a lot has changed.”
I shrugged and tried to sound positive. “Not so much; it was just a winter.” The words sounded false to me; it felt like so much longer, and I knew by the expression in Father’s eyes that he was thinking the same thing.
Father took a deep breath and smiled. “Well, let's get you out of here. We've got a long ride ahead of us. Your mother's been worried sick, and Rory threatened to ride here himself if we didn't hurry.”
My heart leaped into my throat. In all the commotion, I had forgotten about Rory's letter. “How is he? I got his letter, but it said so little. He's getting better? Is he up and about?”
Father laughed and held up a hand at my onslaught of questions. “You'll see for yourself. He and your mother are meeting us at Eskand with the rest of the families who couldn't come along. We had to get a coach especially fitted for his accommodations, but he wouldn't consider staying home when we told him what you've been going through.” He snapped a finger and Captain Rurisk rode forward with Father’s horse, Megrath, and a dark brown mare on a lead rope.
The Captain swung down and gave me a deep bow before grinning. “It's a pleasure to see you again, Princess. We're anxious to have you back home.”
“Thank you,” I told him, touched at the sincerity in his voice. He held the mare's reins needlessly as I swung up onto her back. Father mounted his horse and I looked over to see that the others were already in their saddles and ready to head out.
Father turned his horse's head to take up the lead and my horse took a step to follow him, but I held the reins with a lump in my throat. I looked back at Andric who still stood with his head bowed as though he would never raise it again. I glanced at Father. He motioned impatiently.
I kicked my feet free of the stirrups and hit the ground running before anyone could stop me. “Andric,” I yelled.
“Kit?” he asked, looking up in surprise.
I ran right into his embrace and my lips met his. A jolt of emotion passed between us and I could taste the salt of both our tears.
“Kit,” my father said sharply.
I broke away from Andric and, stifling a sob, turned and ran back across the field to my waiting horse. Without slowing or using the stirrups, I swung onto the mare's back the way we had done so many times during practice in the courtyard. Father looked at me for a moment, but I stared straight ahead, afraid that his glare would make me shatter into a million pieces in my current state.
Without a word, Father kicked his horse into motion. I tightened my knees and my horse followed behind.
***
The night echoed with celebration and jubilee, though Father kept guards on duty in case the Antorans tried to kidnap us back. It was good to see the other Crowns smiling and laughing as though the winter in Antor had been nothing more than a brief vacation; though at times when they thought no one noticed, I saw contemplative expressions on their faces. When our eyes met, their smiles faded and they gave me solemn half-smiles as though they understood how torn I felt.
Ironically, we slept in the same cave on our return journey that we had used as shelter after the Breizan attack. Father was anxious for us to get home quickly, but felt that there was no need to push everyone as fast as their journey to Antor had been. When everyone else had fallen asleep but the soldiers on guard duty, Father confronted me.
“You kissed him?” he asked in a tone that resounded with shock and betrayal.
I couldn't answer him, and when I didn't, he got angry. King Tryst's temper was well-known throughout Denbria, and I think it was one of the reasons the other Kings and Queens followed him when they needed a single head to lead them. He vented his full fury now.
“I forbid you to speak of the Antoran Prince and your so-called feelings for him to anyone. I'll not have a daughter of Zalen falling for one of Antor's beast rulers.” He grimaced. “You’ve been raised with far better standards than that.”
I looked away and clenched my jaw against the argument that screamed within my heart. When Father took that tone, there was no changing his mind. My heart sunk into a black pit and locked itself away. I chose not to feel the pain and forbade my tears to betray me.
Chapter 26
When we finally reached Eskand, a welcoming party rode to meet us. Mother was with them, and I jumped off my horse and ran to meet her. She held me tight, her tears soaking into my hair.
“My daughter,” she sobbed, “I'm so glad you're safe.”
I returned her hug. “I'm alright, Mother.”
“Yes, thank goodness you're back,” she breathed.
Father came up behind us and put an arm around Mother and I as we embraced. I stiffened at his touch, but tried to ignore it, reminding myself that I had not seen him all winter and he was just worried about me.
The other Crowns came to greet their mothers, siblings, and relatives who expressed amazement that they had survived a winter away from the comforts of their castles. Everyone except Landis and I talked to our parents about the arrangements that had been made for the Antorans' arrival in a month when the pass had cleared enough for the citizens to travel safely through. I exchanged an unhappy glance with Landis, but our parents either didn't see it or chose to ignore our frustrations.
When I finally made it to our quarters in the Eskand Castle, I found my brother pacing his room like a caged tiger, forbidden by Mother and his healer to leave for fear that he would catch a chill and undo all of the progress he had made. A big grin spread across his face when I walked through the door. He picked me up and spun me around as if he had never been sick; but the hollow cheeks, pale skin, and quick weariness told on him. We sat on his bed shut away from all the commotion below to catch up on the long months we had been apart.
Rory merely smiled mysteriously when I told him of Kaerdra's interest in him. “We were pretty serious the last time I visited Cren for a hunting expedition with Prince Trevin. I'm glad to know she still remembers me.”
I stared at him, surprised by his honesty on the subject.
“What?” he asked innocently. When I continued to stare, he grew serious. “You've been gone a long time, Kit,” he said. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can tell you've grown up in more ways than Mother and Father are ready to accept. Forgive me if I talk to you like a peer instead of a younger sister.”
I smiled. “I'd rather you talk to me like that. I'm tired of being treated like a kid.”
He nodded in understanding, then his eyes darkened. Without speaking, he ran a thumb lightly over the thin white scar the claw had left across my cheekbone.
I pulled the necklace with the claw on it out from under my shirt. His eyes widened when he saw it. “It's a long story,” I said. ”But the mountain lion was going to hurt a friend o
f mine.”
“So they killed it?” Rory asked. His expression was puzzled as he studied the carving on the claw.
I shook my head. “I did,” I said softly.
He looked up at me quickly to see if I was joking. When I didn't smile, his eyes grew even wider. “You mean to tell me that you killed this lion by yourself?”
“I had a sword,” I said by way of an explanation. “Oh, look, they did it on here, too.” I drew the sword that still hung at my side, something my parents pointedly overlooked.
Rory whistled. “May I?”
I nodded and handed it to him. He ran his finger over the scroll-worked mountain lion, then tested the weight of the sword. “This craftsmanship is unmatched by anything I’ve ever seen,” he said, surprised.
I nodded. “Master Smith Hensas of Antor made it; I've never wielded a sword created like this for me before.”
“Me neither,” Rory said with a hint of envy in his voice. Something occurred to him and he turned back. “You mean to tell me that Crown Prince Andric let you guys have weapons while you were hostage over there?”
I sighed. “There's so much you don't know,” I told him sadly. “But I've been forbidden to tell anyone.”
“Father?” my brother guessed.
I nodded. “But it's fine. I'll deal with it in my own time.”
He studied me for a second and then nodded. “You really have changed, sis. I've missed you.”
“I've missed you,” I told him sincerely.
He gave me another hug and I buried my face against his shirt. I missed Andric's windswept scent of the outdoors and the mountains, wilderness and freedom.
***
When we reached Zalen, the only thing I wanted to do was write to Andric; except every time I put my quill to the paper, the words wouldn't come. I didn’t know how to write to someone I felt like I had shared an eternity with over the course of a single winter. So much had passed between us that hadn't required words, and now that words were required, they wouldn't come.
So I couldn't write, and lost myself instead working for my country the way Andric did for his. The only time that I couldn’t push the thoughts from my head was when I tried to sleep at night. Away from everyone, the thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me and by the time I fell asleep, I had soaked my pillow in tears.
I hid my heartache during the day, though I often felt Mother and Father’s worried eyes on me. Rory comforted me the best that he could, though I knew by his silence that Father had also forbidden him to talk to me about it. I think Father’s theory was if no one mentioned Antor or Andric or anything about our winter, I would forget. I felt glad in a way that he didn't know any better, because it would hurt him to know how much I ached inside.
I spent most of the days with the healers, not just a bystander and a helpful hand once in a while, but a participant now. They appreciated my input and answered all of my questions; if they thought it strange that the Princess stayed away from the castle as long as she could each day, they didn't mention it and I could breathe in their silence. Animals seemed drawn to me, and even the injured ones were more at ease under my touch than that of the healers. The healers were more than grateful at my willingness to help calm an injured puppy so its wounds could be stitched after a fight with a bigger dog, or soothe a steer that had cut its leg on a fence pole. I couldn't talk to them even when I touched them, but they responded to calming thoughts and a soothing scratch on the head.
On the few stormy days when sleet fell in sheets from brooding clouds, or when the healers spent their seventh day each week gathering and drying herbs, I wandered around like a lost dog. One day of wandering found me at the home of a Zalen citizen whose neighbors were helping to raise a small barn for his pregnant mare. I knew the man by sight, one of the shipbuilders who raced horses like most Zalens. The horse was well along in her pregnancy, and by the way she stood solemnly watching the building process with her sides almost ready to burst, I could tell they were cutting it close.
I turned the sleek black mare Father had given me toward the group with a slight pang of what I recognized with some confusion as homesickness when I thought about how Trae hadn't needed to be guided; he had known exactly where I wanted to go.
“Can I help?” I asked as I dismounted. Luckily, most women in Denbria wore loose dress pants during the winter; it was considered acceptable as long as one wore a dress when weather-permitting. Otherwise, the stares I got would have been for my attire as well as the fact that I was a Princess asking to do manual labor.
When they realized who I was, everyone bowed as a group, some even kneeling on the ground still coated in late frost. My cheeks turned red. “Please, I just want to help. I get a little bored and enjoy working with my hands.”
Most of them looked up in surprise, making me blush even deeper. “A princess not afraid to get her hands dirty?” A big man about the size of Bagan's bear rumbled. “I like the sound of that.”
Several others laughed. The man who owned the land came over with his hat in his hands. “I would be awfully ashamed if you got hurt, Crown Princess Kirit.”
I shook my head, my hair brushing against my back. I had taken to wearing it loose since we left Antor as a simple reminder of Andric. “Just Princess Kit, or Kit, if you please. Rory's doing much, much better now.”
“I apologize,” he said with a low bow. “And we are all happy to hear about Crown Prince Rory's recovery.” He glanced up quickly as if afraid he had slighted me. “Not that you wouldn't make a fine ruler,” he said quickly.
I raised my hand with a warm smile. “No offense taken. I'm just relieved that it gives me the excuse to escape training and spend time outside the castle.”
“You helped the healers with my brother,” A skinny young man with a shy smile said.
“I like healing,” I told him with an answering grin. “It makes sense to me, unlike some of the shipping agreements we have.”
They all laughed. The agreements were a mess, and nobody tried to straighten them out because the other countries were just as confused as we were, so no one could get mad at the other if some lines got crossed. It was a case of chaos turned to saving lives.
“Have you ever hammered before?” The landowner asked cautiously.
I nodded. “I suppose most of you have heard something about my trip to Antor.” At their nods and looks of interest, I smiled despite the pang in my chest. “One of the first things we did there was to help to rebuild a roof that had caught fire. It was my first true taste of manual labor.” I winced dramatically. “If you want to see something funny, just give nine Crown Princes and Princesses hammers and ask them to fix something. There were nails hammered in every direction but down.”
They laughed and a young man a few years older than me asked, “Did their animals help?”
I saw sideways glances and hushed whispers, eyes averted so they didn't meet mine. I nodded, feeling bold. “Yes, they did. It was amazing to watch. A bear scraped bark from the logs, horses teamed together and pulling without needing their master to tell them where to go; there were even two crows that brought us twine and nails when we needed them.”
The men listened wide-eyed with awed expressions on their faces. “Are they bewitched?” the landowner asked. He dropped his eyes as soon as he asked it.
I shook my head. “Not at all. They just have a special understanding with certain animals. The Antorans call it being bonded. They can even talk to the animals and the animals talk back in their minds.”
“Wow,” the first man said. He grinned at me. “Do you have more stories like that?”
Surprised, I nodded.
“Then you don't need a hammer,” the big bear-like man replied. “You can tell stories while we work.”
I laughingly agreed, though in the end I appeased both of us by distributing nails and other supplies.
Surprisingly, it helped to talk about Antor. The ache in my chest eased slightly when I told them about the mountains and t
he lions that lived there. They even got me to tell them about the mountain lion that tried to attack Mrs. Voise. Several crowded over and I took off the claw necklace and passed it around for them to see. I told them about my sword and the way it was made, though I had taken to leaving it at the castle because it got in the way when I was helping the healers.
The day went quicker than most, and by nightfall I was so tired that I fell into bed without any tears and gratefully sank into sleep the second I slipped under the thick blankets.
The next morning instead of going with the healers, I rode Fray, my graceful black mare from before Antor, around the city just to better acquaint myself with Zalen. The docks sat mostly empty, shipping and fishing still delayed due to the late ice storms. Usually by this time, Zalen and Faer had so many ships out in the ocean that the horizon was dotted with masts. Today, only a few of the younger captains dared to take their crafts to sea.
I rode along the beach enjoying Fray’s smooth gait through the sand and the steady rush of the waves lapping at the shore. I guided the mare into a little alcove I had visited once with Father, and was surprised to see over a dozen young men and women with horses there. Gouges marked the sand along the beach as though they had been racing.
Curious, I drew near and slid down from Fray's back, leaving her reins loose so she could wander at her leisure. She would come back at a whistle her trainer had taught me. I took off my shoes and stuffed them in the saddlebag so that I could go barefoot like the others on the beach.
Most looked twice at the golden palm leaf emblazoned on my dark blue cloak, then they stared at me, wondering what they should do. I don't think anyone knew the protocol for dealing with a barefoot princess on the beach; I know I didn't.
Luckily, a boy stepped forward and grinned at me. I recognized him as the young man from the house who had been so interested in animals. “Good morning, Princess Kit. Do you mind joining us for a race?”