by Frost Kay
“Same room?”
He nodded.
“Then, yes, my prince.” She brushed past him, ignoring Sam, and continued down the hall.
If she kept referring to him so formally no one would continue to believe them besotted.
“Sage,” he called. She stiffened and stopped, regarding him over her shoulder. “Use my name.”
“Of course, Tehl.”
He liked the way his name sounded when she spoke it. He scowled at the thought. Sage dismissed him and resumed her clipped pace, disappearing from sight with the captain trailing behind.
“She’s trouble,” his brother remarked.
“Yes.” Sage would make his life very interesting.
Chapter Thirteen
Sage
“You know where you are going, ma fleur?” Lilja’s ironic words sounded from behind her.
Sage ignored the comment, focusing instead on the stone walls and the lanterns casting flickering shadows across the smooth surfaces. It was odd how soundless her footsteps were in the vast arching hallway. It was almost as if she wasn’t really here. The disjointed feeling made her uncomfortable in her own skin. She needed to get out of here.
Sage spotted the staircase to the royal wing and sprinted up, eager to leave the hallway behind. The fist on her lungs eased as she reached the top but the eerie silence of the hall brought the feelings rushing to the forefront as she caught sight of her old door. Goosebumps lifted the hair on her arms.
The door itself may have been unremarkable but that which it represented, at least to her, was highly impactful. It had been her prison of sorts before, but once she entered this time it would start a lifelong sentence. The very thought of being trapped again had sweat pooling between her shoulder blades. Was she really doing this? Could she subject herself to a lifetime of loneliness? The people of court weren’t like her. Sage could pretend all she wanted, but she was different, real, common.
What she did for the rebellion and her family shaped her into who she was. Who would she be after abandoning everything she knew? Would Sage still be herself? If she didn’t know herself how could she govern others?
Sage panted heavily as her biggest fear rose in her mind. Children. Children needed strong mothers, ones who’d protect them from the world. That wasn’t her. Sage knew the truth. She was weak and broken inside. Weak women made for terrible mothers. How could she raise the next rulers of Aermia? Panic clawed at her chest. She wasn’t ready. It was too much to ask. Sage had no unearthly clue how to be a princess, queen, or mother. She had no business being here.
“Take a deep breath,” Lilja murmured in her lyrical way. “It will be okay. You are not alone.”
Sage squeeze her eyes closed. Now was not the time to panic. Opening her eyes, she stared at the ordinary handle for a beat before reaching for it, but her hand stopped, hovering just above it.
Stop being a coward.
Sage clasped the cool metal with determination, pushing it open. The room looked the same. The giant four-poster bed, carved from an aqua colored jardantian tree, still dominated the room. She willed her feet to move and she slowly made it farther in. Each step of her boots sank into the luxurious blue carpets as Sage absently ran her hand along the abalone adorning the mantelpiece. After a moment, she abandoned the fireplace in favor of large windows set into double doors. She pressed her face against the cool glass, trying to get a glimpse of ocean but it was too dark to see much at this hour. The sound of the water crashing on the rocks below still reached her though, and she felt a small measure of comfort. She turned, bracing her back against the door, watching as Lilja took her turn, inspecting the room.
The curious Sirenidae tested out each chair, even remarking on the comfort of each, before standing and moving to investigate the bathing room. Sage watched her friend disappear and waited for the explosion of excitement she knew was coming.
“Plumbing?!” Lilja shrieked.
Sage bit back her smile when Captain Femi poked her head out of the bathing room. “I could live in here. I would pay a fortune for the bathing tub alone.”
Sage nodded and returned her attention to the large bed, its fluffy white coverlet seeming to beckon. Exhaustion and longing overwhelmed her. All she needed was a nap, then she could start to process everything else. She pushed from the doors and flopped onto the bed, the blanket encasing her face, creating a fluffy cocoon. She lay there, enjoying it, but soon her lungs burned, so she was forced to roll over just so she could breathe. The last time she had been kept in this room, it had been her cell. Luxurious to be sure, but a cell nonetheless, and yet here she was again, still a prisoner of sorts but this time she’d chosen the fate.
Lilja’s oohing and ahhing over the bathing space and its luxuries pulled her from her bout of self-pity. There were certainly worse places to be.
A moment later, the door burst open, causing Sage to jump and Lilja to rush over. The room’s newest occupant carried with her the scent of herbs and tonics.
Mira.
Sage took a fortifying breath, preparing to grovel. She lifted her arm only to meet a pair of angry blue eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Sage blurted the first and only thing she could think to say.
Mira grabbed her arms and yanked her into a hug. “I am nowhere near forgiving you.” Mira’s arms tightened around her. “But I am so glad you’re safe.” Mira released her and stepped back to glare at her some more. “I knew you wanted to leave, but I thought you would at least say goodbye before slinking off into the night like a damn thief. You could have trusted me.”
Sage swallowed. She should have, she knew that now. “I know, and…I should have. But, at the time, I just didn’t want any blame shifting to you for my actions. I said as much of a goodbye as I could without alerting Gav to my plan.”
“Was anything you told me true, Ruby?”
“… My name is actually Sage.”
“Of course it is.” Mira huffed out an angry breath, looking away. “You weren’t honest with me. That’s not to say I don’t understand that you have reasons. I know you had people you were protecting,” Mira’s face turned red, and Sage could hear the hurt in Mira’s voice as she continued. “But color me shocked when my presence was requested to attend you. Why didn’t you come to see me as soon as you arrived?”
Sage tugged on her braid, embarrassed and a bit ashamed. “I haven’t had a moment. I arrived, was whisked into a meeting, and then immediately sent here to get ready for dinner.” Her excuses sounded pathetic, even to her own ears. She should have gone straight down to the infirmary. She shot Lilja a glance, who had made herself comfortable in a chair, both legs thrown over its arm. The captain winked and pretended not to listen. The little eavesdropper was enjoying this.
Sage turned back to the irate healer. “Do you know why I am here?”
Mira’s face morphed into amusement. “The current ridiculous rumor is you’ve been betrothed to the crown prince.” Mira sniggered. “I laughed when I first heard it. You detest the crown prince. Of all the men in the world he’s the last—”
“It’s true,” Sage choked out.
Mira’s jaw unhinged, gaping, but only for a moment before her face blanked. She took a few steps back and sank into her customary chair by the fire. Her blond friend looked to have no words. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she could get anything out.
Sage’s stomach churned.
“How?”
Sage paced before the fireplace and began her story, explaining everything from the very beginning. Mira listened carefully, never once interrupting or even questioning. Some parts were ash on her tongue, and she had to muscle through them, the sting of betrayal still somewhat fresh. It was odd recounting everything that had come to pass, but it was also surprisingly freeing. When she finally stopped talking, Sage felt a little lighter.
Mira’s eyes dipped to the floor for a moment before returning to Sage’s face. “Thank you.”
That wasn’t th
e response she’d expected. “For what?”
“Your sacrifice. I know better than most how you feel about the Crown.”
Sage turned from Mira’s knowing gaze, instead watching Lilja pretend to sleep. “How I feel isn’t really important at the moment. There is too much at stake. I have no idea if we’ll succeed, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m also all the Crown has. If this is our only chance at peace, what choice did I really have?” Sage took a shaky breath, whispering her next words. “Honestly, after everything that I’ve been through, it’s not as though I have any semblance of appeal.” She paused, chewing her lip before continuing. “No respectable man would have wanted me anyway. I should be happy, after all coming here has given me an opportunity. At least now I might have a family of my own.”
“How many grandbabies should I expect then?”
Sage yanked out her daggers and pivoted toward the voice. She saw in the corner of her eye that Lilja had done the same, crouching with a long, wicked-looking dagger in one hand. Where had that come from? Sage brushed the thought aside and focused on the person speaking. A section of wall slowly pushed open, revealing the king. He took in their weapons and smiled gaily.
“That’s no way to greet family.”
Sage gaped as he moved into her room like he owned it. She supposed, technically, he did. “Can I help you, your majesty?”
“Did my ears deceive me, or are you to wed my son?”
Sage floundered for a moment, unable to respond. When she recovered she sent him a scowl. “Were you listening at my door?”
“You shouldn’t leave the door open, anyone can listen in.” Sage mentally rolled her eyes at that. The king continued, “Now, answer the question. Sage, are you betrothed to my son?”
Sage straightened but couldn’t meet his eye. She chose to examine the rug instead of Marq. “I am.”
Heavy footsteps moved toward her, and brown boots entered her line of vision. A large hand cupped her chin, lifting her face. She met his familiar blue eyes and something about the warmth there had her fighting tears. He searched her face, giving her a sad smile.
“From the Elite, it sounded to be a joyful reunion, but from your face it seems that, for you, at least, this is not a happy occasion.” He could not hide his disappointment with this revelation.
Sage forced a smile upon her lips. “We want people to believe it to be.”
He studied her, his face sharpened. “You are marrying to protect Aermia, yes?”
She gulped. “Yes.”
“That’s a weight.”
“It is. May I be honest with you, sire?”
“Please.”
“I have no desire to be either queen or your son’s wife. But I give you my promise that I’ll do whatever I can to help the kingdom mend and weather the storms ahead of us.”
“And what of my son? Will you do your best to help him as well?”
She met his eyes, the eyes of a concerned father. “I will help him run the kingdom. I will give him children. Don’t worry, the royal line will continue.”
“That’s not what I was talking about. Will you be a good companion, helpmate, and consort?”
“I will advise him to the best of my ability.”
“He doesn’t need an advisor, he needs a wife.”
“The crown prince should have thought about that before he bought me.” Sage winced. She knew she sounded unreasonable but she couldn’t help what she felt, or change what happened.
Marq’s lips thinned. “You feel he bought you?”
“Essentially.” She shrugged, looking to Marq hopefully. “I know I am not what you imagined for your son. I am sure he feels the same way, but I’m all that you and our country get.” Sage clasped his hands. “As I’m sure you overheard, the lives of many depend upon this. I cannot have the consequences of failure on my conscience; it’s why I’m here in the first place. But, in order for this union to succeed, we need your permission and blessing. We need your support. The prince told me we have to make the announcement tonight. Would you… Do you think you could come to dinner and be the one to do so? Please?” Sage pleaded.
Marq watched her, an unreadable expression on his face, before pulling her into a gentle embrace. “I can do that, dear. Thank you,” the king whispered into her hair.
Sage squeezed him once and stepped back.
“I will leave you so you can make yourself ready then.” The older man strode from the room, disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared.
“Stars above.” Lilja fanned herself. “He sure is a handsome man for his age.”
Mira snorted. “You should see his sons.”
Captain Femi flashed the blond healer a smirk. “It’s true. They are pretty easy on the eyes.”
Sage scoffed. “Beautiful on the outside they may be, but the insides definitely leave something to be desired.”
“You better keep that opinion to yourself, lest someone hear you. Don’t ruin everything because you can’t keep your mouth shut,” Lilja chided.
Mira stood, eyeing her leathers with disdain. “You need a bath and change of clothes before you join them.”
Sage smiled at the promise of a bath but it fell when she remembered that she’d have to wade into the leviathan-infested waters of court immediately after. Her scowl deepened. Hopefully it wouldn’t taint the joy of her bath.
***
Sage sunk into the deep tub letting the warm water lap at her shoulders, as spicy oil teased her nose. Cinnamon. Her favorite. She tilted her head back, eyes closing, her neck cradled along the tub’s edge. She’d needed this.
She could hear Lilja and Mira discussing dresses. Sage liked pretty things, but it still irked her to think that the worth of many extravagant pieces could feed a family for months. She didn’t need something that was such a colossal waste of coin.
“Something modest,” Sage hollered, and the voices paused as two sets of footsteps moved into the washroom.
“You are now the betrothed of the crown prince thus your dress needs to be impeccable,” Mira argued. “Any flaw will give the harpies of his court reason to rip you to shreds. You represent the Crown now.”
Sage sniggered. “I don’t care what they think. I am not here to impress them, so I will dress as I please. I’m to be the prince’s consort, am I not?”
“You may not care but in so doing you will make a mockery of the Crown. Is that what you want?”
Mira’s harsh words made Sage pry her eyes open. “No,” she said, serious now. “But I will not dress in a way that mocks the suffering of our people either. Queen Ivy never wore shoes. I will not shame myself, nor the crown prince, no matter how much I might dislike him. I believe that something both tasteful and simple is not too much to ask.”
Lilja shot Mira a look, a small smile on her face. “She sounds like a queen already.”
Mira lifted Sage’s heavy fall of hair and poured some delicious smelling soap into it, working through the tangles. Sage let out a happy sigh.
“Sage, I wasn’t criticizing you but you must remember that how you dress matters from now on. I want to protect you from the judgment you will no doubt face tonight. Many of these women are not kind. Behind pretty little smiles may be a coiled viper.”
Sage placed a wet hand on Mira’s arm, meeting concerned blue eyes. “I’m aware of what they may be like. But do not fret, I can handle myself. I am not without skills myself when it comes to pretense, and no one here can say anything worse than what many said when I returned home before. Their words only hurt if I let them. I truly don’t care what they say, I am here for one purpose and one purpose only and it has nothing to do with them.” Sage patted her friend’s arm before resuming scrubbing herself. She met Lilja’s magenta eyes. “The only dress I have fine enough for tonight is my costume from the Midsummer Festival, and that is inappropriate. What would you suggest I wear?”
Captain Femi entered the room and ran a finger tip along her bathwater. “I sent someone to the Sireni
dae for a dress of mine.”
Sage eyed her skeptically. They were shaped nothing alike. Lilja was tall and willowy whereas she was short and curvy. How exactly would that work?
Captain Femi snorted. “I am a merchant.”
“Pirate,” Sage teased. In truth, Sage had discovered a few things while staying on the Sirenidae. Lilja was a legitimate business woman, but she also had some interesting enterprises on the side. She also had things Sage had never seen before, stuff not of Methian or Aermian origin, and very old.
Captain Femi sniffed but ignored her comment. “I am having dresses brought here for you. They may need to be altered, but I am sure we can find one that fits enough for tonight.”
Sage eyed Lilja’s colorful outfit, hoping whatever it was wasn’t quite so brightly colored.
Lilja caught her expression and swatted the air. “Don’t give me that look. Many wish they could wear the colors I do.”
Mira squeezed the water from her hair. “They are exotic, but I’m afraid only someone with your coloring can pull off that yellow. It’s quite…vivid.”
Lilja smirked. “I am sure that, with your golden hair, you could wear it reasonably well.”
Mira stood and picked up a towel, beckoning for Sage to get out. She paused for a moment, self-conscious, but steeled herself knowing Mira had already seen her at her worst. She stood, water sluicing down her body, and stepped from the tub as Mira wrapped her in the warm towel. She was led to the vanity to sit as Mira begun working on her hair.
Lilja followed them into the bedroom and met Sage’s eyes in the mirror. Sage shivered when she saw the anger plain on her face. “He will pay, ma fleur.”
She didn’t need to ask whom, but, seeing her friend so fierce, she realized the woman could be quite frightening. She imagined this is what the stories referred to when they referred to the Sirenidae as bloodthirsty fighters. She glanced away from Captain Femi into flashing blue eyes and winced when Mira jerked the brush through her hair. Noticing her discomfort, Mira gentled her brushing with an apologetic smile.