The Healer Princess (Princess of the Seven Suns Book 1)

by Amy Little

  His hand brushed her hair back from her face, before he bent down to kiss her.

  She evaded his kiss.

  He looked at her steadily. His eyes glowed.

  She felt his touch as a warm, soothing feeling that was impossible to let go. She told herself she must.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he softly said.

  “I will not be one of your flings, Zak.”

  “You can be the only one I ever need.”

  “Good bye, Zak.”

  She turned and hastily took the leftmost stair to the guest wing, even though she knew it was the longer way back to her chamber. She knew she had to flee before he had given her anything to make her reconsider. It would not take much.

  Zak watched her leave with a flicker of a smile on his face. He could almost feel his mouth sweeping across hers, taking in her lips one by one, savoring her. He could feel her warm, smooth skin under his hands. He could see himself peeling her clothes off her, layer after layer, warm in a well-heated bed chamber….

  When she vanished from sight, he ran his fingers through his hair and blinked a few times, as though waking from a deep, enchanted sleep. He wanted her, he said to himself, but she did not want him. Not yet; not enough to overcome her doubts.

  He did not let that discourage him. No matter what the opposition was, he had no doubt that he will prevail.

  This will be fun, he said to himself, a challenge.

  Nothing more.

  She could not be that much unlike all the other women he had known.

  Chapter Four

  The stairs to the tower atop the residential wing of the castle wound anti-clockwise.

  Annika puffed up the stairs, running in her mind through the attack of the snake people few days earlier. In the days since, she had blocked any thought of the incident. It was too strange, too troubling. Only now did she find the strength to quickly touch on the subject, before her mind turned away, fearing what it would find. What were those creatures? were they men or truly beings out of children’s tales? And, whatever they were, did they seek her out or was that merely a chance encounter?

  Either way, there was no doubt that the city could be deadly.

  Without Zak, that is.

  Annika frowned and pushed thoughts of Zak out of her mind.

  The platform at the top of the tower was surrounded by a wrought iron fence that reached barely above Annika’s knee. On a pedestal above the doorway that exited on the platform, stood an enormous statute of a tiger. The cross-winds howled above her, as though singing a plaintive song to the seven pale suns that were drifting in a fading half-arc to the western horizon.

  Annika clung to the doorway from which she exited, afraid to move further.

  Given the perilous height, she had a birds-eye view of the city. Houses stretched out in every direction. Amongst them moved tiny figures.

  Was Zak down there somewhere?

  Annika pursed her lips and shifted her gaze outside the city’s bounds.

  Beyond the city walls, far in the distance, shimmering like a mirage, rose a collection of white towers that seemed to bury themselves in the clouds like glistening spears. That was the Emperor’s palace.

  Annika had to force herself to hold her gaze on the palace. It brought memories – painful memories that she did not want to deal with.

  The members of the five houses were rarely invited to the Emperor’s castle. There was an uneasy truce between them and the Emperor, and has been for many centuries. They were the two alternative sources of power in the Empire. The Houses arrived at decisions through the Council. The Council submitted their decisions to the Emperor, who had the final say. Occasionally, disagreements erupted. When they did, everyone held their breath, expecting the worst.

  It was during one of these disagreements that Annika’s mother vanished. Miriam, Annika’s elder sister, then only five years old, followed not long after.

  These memories stirred something inside Annika that seemed to give her strength.

  Slowly, Annika edged forward, to the edge of the platform, where she crouched to grab the rails.

  Winds buffeted her from all directions.

  The hems of her robe flapped, snapping loudly in the wind like whips. Her hair was flung in all directions, pasted flat against her face one moment and in another soaring up above her head as though she were about to be lifted up by it.

  Annika felt she may take flight any moment.

  She swept the hair away from her face and peered down.

  The castle below her was laid in an octagonal pattern. There were the guest and residential wings, the chapel, the small houses of tradesmen who labored inside the castle for generations, choosing the protection of her House to the lawlessness of the city or its surrounds.

  Maybe, Zak was there, in the castle, also, and maybe he was missing her and thinking about her as she was about him….

  Annika groaned. Could she not stop thinking about Zak? If she were able to, she would have kicked herself. Instead, she bit her lip, then blinking to dispel the tears of pain that the bite brought, she backed away and started the long journey down.

  As she descended, she thought that while her House had a large castle, it was not so large that she could live in it on her own terms, or avoid any entanglements with her family.

  Until now, to avoid bumping into her father or sister, she got up late and ate alone in the castle kitchen. For exercise, she walked the abandoned, crumbling guest wings of the castle, alone. She dined late, also alone, in her room.

  In the evenings, she climbed in the cold bed early and even though the loneliness seemed to eat away at her insides she did not cry.

  Despite this, or maybe because of it, she especially wanted to avoid Zak.

  She felt that he brought out too many emotions in her. She could understand her seeking solace after she had met her sister and father. But what worried her was the eagerness with which her lips and hands had sought him out when given the chance. She remembered that eagerness vividly. She remembered the hunger.

  Could she ignore the passion? Could she ignore her need for him, ignore the anger she felt at the way her own feelings betrayed her?

  That she could not trust him was a given.

  At the riverlands, during the exile, she learned to rely on herself. Having returned to her childhood home, she no longer felt such strength and trust.

  How to get back that feeling?

  Perhaps, outside the castle, in the chaotic city, she would be free. She could make her own way, work as a healer, live alone as she wished; she would never have to remember this castle’s cold walls; she would never have to see her father, or sister. Or Zak.

  But the castle was safe.

  Annika knew she was kidding herself if she thought that the castle’s safety was the only thing that kept her there.

  In the castle, she could also meet Zak. Feel his strong arms, his lips on hers….

  It was time for deciding, Annika said to herself, as she reached the bottom of the tower.

  Was she going to choose the safety of her father’s castle and the exhausting loneliness and powerlessness that came with it?

  Or will she make her own way in a dangerous city, where a turn down the wrong alleyway could get her killed, but where she could shape her own journey?

  The descent from the tower seemed more exhausting than the long climb up.

  Annika felt the hard rock of each step under her feet.

  Through vertical slits in the stairwell’s walls, she caught glimpses of the castle’s winding paths, and overlapping circles of gardens and courtyards, growing larger and larger with each step.

  It was as though she were returning to the land of the living, where, she was certain now, there was much that she could do.

  At the bottom of the tower, the stairs kept going lower into the basement kitchen.

  Annika wandered through the kitchen, trying to gather courage to speak to her father.

  The staff in the kitche
n, just as elsewhere in the castle, were all new. The stewards, the houndsmen, the armorers, the blacksmiths, even the priest, have all changed in the last five years. They avoided her.

  She had no more connection to this castle, Annika reflected. The only thing that held her here were old memories, and a sentimental attachment to her father and sister, who did not reciprocate.

  A loaf of bread was lying on a warm steel tray on one of the long side tables.

  Feeling hungry, and lost in thought, she picked off a chunk of bread.

  A small boy with a wizened look approached. He held a platter of meat and fruit in his hand. On seeing Annika with the bread, he exclaimed, “You can’t!”

  She stopped chewing in surprise.

  He took the remains of the bread from the table and after examining it placed it next to the meat. Then he snatched the piece of bread from her. “It’s for the Councilor! Now I’ve to find another loaf for him. They’ll think I ate it!”

  “I can take it to him?” Annika offered.

  “I’ll be whipped for this,” the boy said, gloomily. He examined the bitten-off piece of bread he’d snatched from Annika.

  “It wasn’t your fault at all,” Annika cautiously said.

  “They don’t care.” The boy clearly wanted the piece of bread. He swallowed.

  “Is the Councilor in his chambers?”

  “Who are you?” The boy looked at Annika suspiciously, and then with a frightened squeak glanced at the haggard charwoman who emerged from the dark depths of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her green apron.

  “It’s his other daughter,” hissed the woman. She snatched the platter from the boy and dumped it on the table. “Let her take it if she wants to.”

  Annika felt shaken by the viciousness of the woman’s looks, but it didn’t surprise her. She had not sensed any warmth from the castle’s staff. They treated her either coldly, or with outright hostility. This was just another example that she needed to shrug off.

  The charwoman dragged the boy away.

  “He wasn’t at fault,” Annika said after the woman. “You must not punish him!”

  The boy followed the woman, surreptitiously gnawing off a bit of the chunk of bread that he still held.

  Annika wasn’t sure if her interference will help or hinder the boy.

  The boy’s expressions suggested similar thoughts, changing from worried, to pleased when he bit off the bread, to entirely unsure of his fate once he’d swallowed it down.

  The boy’s humorous grimaces made Annika smile in a sad way. She tried to push the woman’s incident out of her mind as she looked to the platter. Now, she had a reason to drop in on her father.

  Her father’s study was on the floor above the great hall. Winding stairs led up.

  Annika climbed the stairs gingerly, balancing the tray with food in both hands. She tried to rehearse what she would say, but the stairs and the tray required too much concentration.

  This part of the castle was old. Some said, it was older than any other construction in the city. The risers on the steps were twice as high as on an ordinary step, as though made for giants.

  As she came to the top landing, Annika stumbled and barely caught her balance as she half-fell through the door to the study.

  Her father looked up from writing in a parchment roll. His face showed no surprise at seeing her.

  Annika placed the platter on the desk next to him, shifting aside some leather-covered tome. One of the tomes had the image of a dragon embossed on it. Annika’s heart was beating faster than even when she climbed to the top of one of the three tall towers. All of the things that she had thought she may say fled her.

  The study overlooked a square garden that was used for combat practice. Clang of swords and loud shouts rang out.

  “Such din. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate here,” said Annika. Then she bit her lip. This wasn’t the opening comment she had prepared. Too late. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at her father in defiance.

  “Then it is well you are spared this labor.” He replaced the quill on the writing tray, blew on what he had written a few times, and then slowly rolled the scroll up before standing from his seat. Even with the stoop, he was one of the tallest men she had ever met.

  Almost as tall as Zak, Annika thought.

  She pushed the thought of Zak out of her mind. “Thank you for the hospitality so far, father. I mean Councilor.”

  Her father waved his hand as though to brush her comment aside.

  Trying not to be discouraged, Annika continued. “I find myself increasingly unhappy here. Councilor. I do not feel a connection to this castle. It’s been too long since I’ve lived here. After staying in the river lands with the river barons, I like more time and space for myself. Inside the city, is where I wish to live.”

  He looked at her without a response.

  Annika tried to withstand the silence but after a few seconds, unable to bear the atmosphere, she walked to the window and peered outside.

  Beneath, Zak, with a bare torso despite the bitter winter winds, sparred with four men.

  Annika sprung back as though she was scalded with hot water.

  “The years have been hard, and long, Second Princess Annika,” her father said. “The years have not been kind to us. Not to us as a family, nor as a great House.”

  Annika slowly turned to face him, unsure how to respond.

  “Do you blame me for removing you from this castle?” her father asked.

  She did not want to have to hide her feelings any longer. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “First Princess Cara thought you would.”

  Annika could not help saying, “Why not a single visit, either from you or Cara? No message, not even a word through one of the passing messengers! Why….” She stopped herself, and took a breath. “I want to live in the city, father.”

  “Councilor, Second Princess.”

  “Yes,” she said, not minded to correct herself.

  “Many things have changed. Do not forget this.”

  She nodded, swallowing her tears and impotent rage.

  “Someday I hope I can explain myself to you. I am resigned that that day may never come. Yet I hope for it.” His stoop deepened. His face looked as old as time itself.

  For a flickering moment, Annika’s rage was softened by the compassion for this old man that she now realized she no longer knew.

  Her father continued, “As for your request, Second Princess Annika, I cannot acquiesce.”

  The stirring of compassion she had felt for her father was quashed by those words. “Why not?”

  “One day you will understand.”

  Annika could not help exclaiming, “I don’t now! And I don’t believe I ever will!”

  “Annika—“

  Without waiting to hear more, she walked out of the room, clenching her fists and doing her best not to burst out in tears.

  Her resolution lasted until she reached the dark landing outside, where her composure crumbled. Biting her lips, she ran headlong down the stairs and then at the last moment stopped herself from exiting the hall into the courtyard where she had seen Zak. She hastily veered in the other direction and took the circuitous back corridors to her room.

  The corridors were deserted.

  Annika was grateful for that. She could not bear the thought of seeing anyone.

  The guest room she was staying in had the air of cold impartiality about it.

  Annika tried to be grateful for that as well. There was nothing more bracing than the uncaring rigidity of the external world. It was just how things were. She would not cry, she said to herself.

  Then she said to herself, it was a good thing she had formed a backup plan before seeing her father.

  In the corner of the room lay the voluminous leather satchel with which she had left the river lands.

  She caressed the leather as though wishing that it would respond and acknowledge her pain. Then she quickly looked through the conten
ts, even though she had meticulously packed them the night before.

  Inside were woolen leggings, tunics, a spare mantle, a long dagger with a gold handle encrusted with rubies on its leather case, and a multitude of packets made with oiled paper in which she held her collection of dried herbs.

  Right then, Annika felt that that satchel and its contents were all that she could call her own. She thought about all the different types of herbs that she knew. She thought about all the different types of illnesses that she could cure with them. This knowledge affirmed her, gave her strength.

  The packed satchel sat heavily over one shoulder.

  Since her father did not give her leave to depart, she will go on her own.

  Hoping that since she had managed to leave the castle with Zak the few days before, without problems, she would be able to do the same again, she went to the main castle gate.

  The battlements on the south side of the castle were broken up by a sixty-feet-tall guard tower, beneath which was a heavy, grated gate. The gate was raised.

  Annika lurked in the shadow of the bakery outhouse, tightly gripping the strap of her satchel.

  At the gate, a soldier with a halberd inspected the thin stream of passers-by. Another soldier with a bronze helmet and an officer in a tasseled tunic played cards in the shade of the guard house.

  Annika noted with dismay that these seemed to be different soldiers to the ones at the gates when she went outside the castle with Zak.

  Beyond the gate was a narrow, paved plaza.

  Annika looked at it longingly, then, saying to herself, now or never, Annika walked with what she hoped was a confident strut to the gate.

  The soldier with the halberd straightened and lowered the long handle of the halberd in front of her. She was forced to stop.

  Annika tried to calm her breath. She gripped on to her satchel tighter, then gave the soldier the haughtiest glare she could muster.

  “Your business?” he asked.

  She noted his unconcerned voice with irritation. “None of your concern!” she replied. “Move aside… please.”

  He stepped closer towards her.