Island in the Forest

by Jeanne Hardt

  Her father fidgeted whenever her mother acted distressed. When near her, he was soft-spoken and gentle. He would do anything to please her. Almost as if she centered his world. Then again, he acted similarly to Olivia when they were alone together. She never questioned his love for either of them.

  He acted far different with others in the kingdom. Though caring, he came across bold and self-assured. Kingly. No one challenged his word.

  Olivia viewed him as her dear father and hated to be the cause of his distress. “I am so very sorry.”

  “You should not apologize for hugging your father and wrinkling your gown. However, talking foolishness?” He leaned in. “Shall I assume you spoke of the outside world again?”

  She nodded. “Why do you find it foolish? Is it not wise to be curious?”

  He released her hand and moved his arm over her shoulder, drawing her against him, then he kissed the top of her head. “My dear, dear, Livvy. You are by far the best child a father could wish for, but you must stop longing for something you cannot have. Unless you accept your life as it is, you shall never find happiness. Be content. You have everything here. Love. Protection. A beautiful place to dwell. What more do you need?”

  Yes, Padrida was beautiful. Every part of it. From the castle, to the orchards, to the forest and pond.

  As a princess, Olivia lived a life of privilege, never wanting for a thing. And she had a man waiting for her to show him a hint of interest, and he could be hers.

  “I . . .” She looked upward and watched a bluebird fly from its nest. Though she knew exactly what her life lacked, she dared not speak of it. “There is nothing more I need, Father. Forgive me for upsetting Mother. I promise to do better.”

  He patted her knee. “Good girl. One day, you shall be queen. And I have no doubt you will be the most honorable ruler our realm has ever known. Yet, to become queen, you not only need to love your people, you must love Padrida. Embrace your homeland, Olivia. Much was sacrificed to live here. Never forget the blessings bestowed on us.”

  “I shan’t forget.” She locked eyes with him. “Ever.”

  Again, he gave her a pat, then stood, picked an apple, and took a bite. “It pains me to leave here on such a glorious day, but I must return to the castle for sparring practice.”

  “Father, I would like to remain here a while. I have some thinking to do.”

  He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I shall see you at supper.” Smiling even broader, he rubbed his large abdomen and walked away.

  The bluebird perched on the wall in the distance. Within mere moments, it took flight and left Olivia’s sight. An unexpected emptiness took away every bit of happiness.

  She shut her eyes, wishing she could follow the bird.

  Chapter 2

  Sebastian could not endure one more day in Basilia.

  He tossed aside his sword, then sat down hard on the ground and leaned against a tree. Sweat dripped from his brow, so he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

  Jonah frowned and peered down at him. “Your Highness. We should go another round.”

  Though only a year older than Sebastian, Jonah had been designated as his mentor. More than that, he had become his dearest friend and someone he confided in.

  Sebastian had other things in mind than going another round. “Not today. Honestly, I see no sense in sparring. Why spar when we shall never have a battle to fight?”

  Jonah picked up Sebastian’s sword and handed it to him. “Battles are rarely planned. As a Basilian prince, you need to be prepared.”

  Prepared? Peace had been attained long before he was born, and there was no indication of unrest in Basilia. He understood full well that one day he would be king, and his people expected him to be the finest swordsman in the kingdom. For now, he could not keep himself from being restless. There had to be more to his daily routine than swordplay and food.

  “I have a better idea.” Sebastian jumped to his feet. He towered over his friend by more than a foot. “We need to have an adventure.”

  Jonah folded his arms over his chest and shook his head, leering at Sebastian as if he had lost his mind. “I believe you are light-headed. Sit back down and rest.”

  Sebastian had never been more serious. He sheathed his sword and headed for the castle.

  Jonah bustled behind him. “Highness, please—wait . . .”

  He kept walking. “I am not light-headed. In all honesty, I have never had clearer thoughts. I have been considering this for some time.”

  Jonah tried to match his long stride. “An adventure.”

  “Yes.”

  “Does it involve women?”

  Sebastian stopped cold. “Bite your tongue.”

  “Forgive me. I fear I cannot help myself. It has been a great while since I—”

  “Spare me the details of your trysts. I have genuine concerns over women whom you are well aware of, and I want to go somewhere I can forget them for a time.”

  “Them? I thought there was only one.” Jonah lifted a single brow and grinned. “Princess Angeline of Thanwine.”

  Tempted to cuff him upside his head, Sebastian held back. His friend knew how to aggravate him without fear of repercussions. However, the mention of Angeline pushed him to his limit. “You know very well what I meant.”

  Jonah continued to smirk, but said nothing.

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Would you have her, Jonah?”

  “I am not a royal.”

  “Regardless. If able, would you? Do you find her . . . appealing?”

  Jonah’s features finally sobered. “Well . . . I . . .” He looked skyward, then down again. Back and forth, over and over, causing his many blond curls to bounce in a ridiculous manner. Had the situation not been so dire, Sebastian would have laughed.

  “Do not bother answering, Jonah. I shall tell you what I think. Angeline’s upturned nose distracts from the rest of her face, which in itself is disproportionate. Worse yet, whenever I attempt to engage in conversation, she giggles like a silly child. I cannot get a sensible word out of her.”

  Jonah’s mouth screwed together. “Is conversation necessary?”

  “For a lasting relationship, of course it is.”

  Jonah shrugged. “Perhaps that is why my engagements with women are so brief. Little talking is involved.”

  Sebastian gripped Jonah’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Frolicking with wenches from the tavern is not a genuine relationship.”

  “True.” Jonah’s brows dipped in, then he grinned. “Yet, it is quite enjoyable.”

  “So, you have said.” Sebastian jerked his head toward the castle. “No more talk of women. I have something better in mind.”

  “Oh.” Jonah frowned. “May I say just one thing more in regard to Angeline?”

  Sebastian started walking again. “I suppose. If you must.”

  “In all seriousness, you should be grateful she is a princess.”

  “Yes. They are scarce, and my choices are limited. Especially since the daughters of King Imran of Issa are not to be considered. As you know, they have no morals and are likely diseased. Chastity is a term unheard in that land.”

  “Issa.” Jonah spoke the word as if in prayer, then smirked. “It has been a great while since I ventured there.”

  “You would do best to keep far from it.” Sebastian let out a long sigh and set his foot on the drawbridge. He paused, reflecting on the rusty chains.

  He could not recall the last time the bridge had been raised. Another sign of peace in the kingdom—something he should be grateful for.

  Assuming he had merely become bored, he doubted Princess Angeline could appease him.

  He rubbed his hands together, then patted Jonah on the back. “You may not be aware of it, but you and I both need an adventure. I must tell Mother we are leaving.”

  “Leaving?” Jonah’s eyes widened.

  “Yes. But not for good. Just long enough to find . . .” He stopped and stared blankly ahe
ad.

  “What?”

  “I fear I do not know. That is where the adventure comes in.” Chuckling, he slapped Jonah even harder on the back.

  Jonah followed him to the queen’s chamber, mumbling all the while.

  * * *

  “I do not care for the idea, Sebastian.” His mother shook her head. “What if you are needed here?”

  “That is unlikely. Father capably rules Basilia, and our people are content. I have never been called upon to do much of anything.”

  Her brows danced and he knew she was considering his words.

  He led her to a cushioned bench. “I swear I will not be gone long. Please understand, I need this.”

  She shifted her eyes to Jonah, who stood silently by the door. “You shall accompany him?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I assure you, I will keep him from harm.” Jonah bowed low. When he rose up, he met Sebastian’s gaze with a smile.

  Maybe the thought of an adventure had begun to appeal to him. However, he might not be so eager if he knew where Sebastian intended to go.

  They waited silently for his mother to answer. As Prince, he had no need to tell her his destination, or have her permission for that matter. Yet, being his mother, as well as a woman he respected, her approval meant a great deal to him.

  His father would simply have wished him well and sent him on his way, asking only to be told of his adventure upon his return.

  His mother’s worry lines deepened. She cast a stern eye at Jonah. “How did he fare sparring today?”

  “Very well, Your Majesty. He bested me twice.”

  She let out a long breath, then cast a questionable expression. “Go on your adventure, Sebastian. But take your weapons and be on guard. All I ask is you return home by the full moon. We are expecting Princess Angeline. As you are well aware, she is waiting for your proposal. I pray your venture will inspire some courage.”

  Sebastian could not utter a word. Nothing would ever raise his nerve enough to throw his life away on a giggling girl.

  * * *

  Sebastian quickly gathered his belongings. After months of contemplation, he knew exactly what he needed for the journey.

  When he entered Jonah’s cottage, he found his friend in a near-frenzy.

  Jonah mumbled, cursed under his breath, and waved his hands in the air as he bustled about the small room gathering supplies.

  “Remember,” Sebastian said, chuckling, “we will not be gone forever.”

  Jonah stuffed several pairs of trousers into a canvas bag. “Perhaps not, but you have neglected to tell me where we are going. How am I to know what to pack?”

  “Clothing, food, sword, and bow. It is not complicated. I doubt we shall need much food. I intend to hunt.”

  “Hunt?”

  “Of course. That is part of my plan. Smaller game such as squirrels and rabbits while there, but I may want to bring some venison back to Basilia with us.”

  “While there?” Jonah sputtered out a cough. “Do you intend to go to the forest?”

  Sebastian rose a bit taller and jutted his chin. “Yes. Black Wood. What better place for an adventure?”

  “There are stories . . .”

  “Yes, stories. Nothing more than children’s fairy tales.”

  “What if they are true?”

  Sebastian closed his eyes, recalling the tales of the evil ones living in the woods. Stories that gave him nightmares as a child. Fortunately, he had left his boyhood long behind him and felt confident he could overcome any foul creature he might encounter.

  Jonah, however, had always been highly superstitious. Even though small in stature, he was exceedingly strong and by far the best fighter in Basilia. But superstition often led to fear, and fear could cripple even the strongest of men. Sebastian hoped this venture would cure his friend of his delusions.

  “Finish gathering your things, Jonah. The only way to discover what lies in the forest is by seeing it for ourselves.”

  “If the queen knew your intentions—”

  “Mother need not know everything.” Sebastian rested his hand on the door latch. “Meet me in the stable. I will ready the horses.”

  Without waiting for a response, Sebastian opened the door and walked away. Why fear the unknown? The thought of what he might find stimulated him.

  He had no need for a woman. An exciting quest could satisfy any man.

  Chapter 3

  The sounds of endless chatter, heavy cups clunking onto wooden tables, and utensils tapping against metal plates surrounded Olivia. She could scarcely hear herself think.

  Even so, she relished the evening meal.

  Olivia dined beside her parents at the head table. It sat high on a wood platform overlooking the grand hall floor. The enormous tables for the commoners extended the length of the dining hall. It filled to capacity with the sum of the kingdom’s inhabitants. Olivia cherished all of them and could name each and every one. More than anything, she enjoyed watching the children.

  Nearly four hundred people fit into the gigantic room with its high ceiling and cold stone floor. One day, they would outgrow it. They would eventually find themselves having to sit so close together that no one could take a breath without permission from another. A dire situation to say the least.

  The only other option would be to have two dining times, which would defeat the purpose of sharing a meal. They had no other opportunity to be together, like one large family.

  Olivia poked at her food. Her thoughts tumbled and took away her desire to eat.

  Growing in population brought on other difficulties. Two mealtimes would not solve the issue of lodging. Numerous small cottages already dotted the perimeter of the woods and lined the farmland. Building more would mean cutting trees from the forest or covering the important soil needed for crops. Though large, Padrida had limitations.

  Some of the more important people—such as the king’s guards and the queen’s ladies—had already moved into the castle. Even it felt crowded. She could seldom walk down the hallway without passing someone. Privacy could only be guaranteed in her bedchamber. A place she did not have to share.

  At least, not yet . . .

  “Olivia?”

  Her father’s voice startled her from her never-ending contemplations. “Yes?”

  “Donovan attended sparring practice again today.”

  Donovan? A much pleasanter thought than overpopulation. “Truly?” She kept her voice low, so only her father could hear. “Why would the son of a baker wish to learn how to spar?”

  Her father leaned toward her. “He may be a baker’s son, but he has his heart set on becoming a guard. Look at him, Olivia.” He jerked his chin toward the crowd. “He has the stature.”

  Already well aware of his physique, looking mattered not. His muscular arms were larger than her thighs. Whenever he leaned against the wall, or crossed his arms over his chest, he accentuated them. She believed he purposefully displayed them, so she would notice his attributes.

  “How did he fare?” She blinked slowly and kept her eyes on her father. “. . . Sparring?”

  “Exceptionally well.”

  “Good.” Without warning, a familiar heat rose in her cheeks and she faced away, praying her father had not noticed.

  A single, plump finger turned her head toward him again. “Donovan has been your friend for as long as I can remember. Shall I assume those feelings have grown?”

  What could she say?

  Yes Father, he fills my dreams most every night?

  No. That would not do.

  Besides, her feelings for him confused her, so she chose to take the safe course. “He is still my best friend, Father. Nothing more.” She forced a timid smile, then concentrated on eating the delicious-looking roast duck set before her.

  The archers had had a successful hunt that gave them much-desired meat. Seldom did they butcher a cow or sheep. They needed the livestock for more important things such as milk and wool.

  Though Donova
n had not been the one to obtain tonight’s supper, she knew him to be a skilled archer. If truly exceptional at sparring as well, he would likely be chosen as a guard. And as such, would move into the castle.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she gulped.

  I cannot think about that now.

  Olivia cast all thoughts aside and inhaled her meal. Once finished, she asked permission to be excused.

  She hastened to the courtyard for a few moments of solitude. None of the common folk hurried with their food. They savored every moment spent in the castle.

  The fresh air cooled her cheeks, and the silence and peace of the evening eased her. She headed for the well and washed down her meal with a cold drink of water.

  Drawn by something unseen, she briskly walked from the courtyard to the front gate.

  Why was she always pulled to this place?

  She leaned her forehead against the thick door, and tears pooled in her eyes. She wanted to pound her fists on the heavy oak, but chose to say a silent prayer, begging to be free. Besides, she knew in her heart that one day, they would have to go beyond the walls of Padrida to accommodate her ever-growing kingdom. True, they might not outgrow it in her lifetime, but the problem would not solve itself.

  If only she could be content.

  “Olivia? What troubles you?”

  Not so alone after all.

  She swiped at her tears, then turned to face Donovan. The concern in his eyes worsened her feelings. Here stood a man who would love and care for her until their days on Padrida came to an end. So, why did she have such difficulty letting everything else go and allow herself to love him?

  “Olivia?” He lightly touched her arm.

  “Do you never want to leave?” She blurted out the words and slapped her palms against the door. “We are all trapped. Like caged animals.”

  He took hold of her hand. “You should take care of your delicate skin. A splinter would not do you well.” His lips formed into the most tender smile she had ever seen. He kissed her hand and drew her toward him.

  Her breath came out in rapid puffs. “Why are you trying to distract me from my question?”

  “Because there are more important things to say than discussions over what lies beyond this gate. Why must you daydream about that which you cannot have, when I offer you something as real as a gentle touch?”