by Jasmine Walt
Lorelai was taken aback. Valliere had a strict path of inheritance, at least for the first few children. The oldest child, regardless of sex, inherited the highest title and all lands belonging to that title. The second child, again regardless of sex, would become a warrior knight and battle in the name of their king. The third child was offered to the temple. They would either become a servant, or, if they were deemed talented in prayer, potions, and meditation, they could become a priestess or sorciere.
“You were intended to be a sorciere.” An image of Bruno stripped and standing up from the azure pool flashed into Lorelai’s mind.
Bruno tilted his head towards her, the blue stone casting a pale glow over his skin. “Indeed. But when my brother died, my sister moved up to the place of the first child and I became a knight.”
Lorelai stroked his arm. “I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t realize.”
Bruno turned abruptly to the waters, withdrawing from her touch as if it was repugnant. Lorelai swallowed. What was she thinking? She was a new widow and a dowager queen. She should be mourning her husband, not reaching out to comfort a knight. It wouldn’t take a soothsayer to know it was truly the queen seeking comfort.
“The spires atop the temple are meant as mirror images of these stalactites.” Bruno strode a few paces from the queen.
Lorelai took a deep breath to compose herself. She had lived so long in the confines of the court, to be alone with a man, unchaperoned, unwatched, was unheard of. She was going to have to control herself. The way her heart raced, he would think she was a wanton village girl and not the queen of Valliere. Lorelai cleared her throat. “They say the saints stepped from a pool of earthen tears. I always thought it meant human tears. I never knew there were pools formed by the earth crying.”
Bruno stood a distance away, staring at her thoughtfully, brown hair loosely falling over his forehead. Lorelai blinked at his chest hairs just poking above the opening of his loose white collar. That wasn’t helping.
Why did they have to choose Bruno to escort her to safety? All the knights were candy to her, but Bruno touched her heart in a way she couldn’t explain. She understood better now that she knew he’d lost a sibling. They had both experienced grave loss. They had that connection.
Every particle in Lorelai’s body wanted to embrace him, exactly as she had done that day in the royal garden.
“We best get out of these things,” he said, pulling his beggar’s tunic over his head. Lorelai gaped at the shadows and light that played across the sinews of his chest. His bulging muscles flexed as he threw the rags to the side. “Your change of clothes is over there,” Bruno continued, pointing towards a previously unnoticed pile of dark linen next to the altar.
“Where—where am I supposed to change?”
“Don’t worry, my queen,” Bruno said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “I shall keep my back turned and my gaze down.”
Lorelai glanced around the chamber to ensure there were no reflective surfaces he was peering in to glimpse her naked. This knight might have seen half the population of Valliere naked, but that didn’t mean he had to see her, too. In a kerfuffle of fabric, Lorelai threw off the white shroud and wiggled her way into the umber, tight-fitting peasant’s dress. The material was much rougher than the silks and satins she was used to in the castle, but it wasn’t unfriendly.
“Do you need help with that?” he asked, his breath on her neck as she tugged her hair aside to get the clasp of the dress closed.
“Yes,” she said, hating the way her voice told him how much she wanted his help. “Usually—usually my ladies-in-waiting attend me.” She continued as if they were just having a normal conversation over a meat pie at the banquet table.
“Well, I wouldn’t make a very good lady-in-waiting,” Bruno chuckled.
His fingertips barely touched her skin, but the sensation echoed through her body as he deftly closed the clasp.
She spun away from him. “You never know,” she demurred. “A yard of silk might look quite fetching on you.”
Bruno smiled, but the expression was fleeting. “We should go,” he said, putting distance between them once more. A frown covered his face, sending another chill through Lorelai’s heart.
Lorelai shook her head as disappointment filled her. The desires she was feeling were grossly inappropriate and distracting. She needed to stamp out these wanton thoughts and get back in control. She was the queen, and a newly widowed queen at that. She needed to behave like one.
“I will pray.” She ducked her head and moved to the small shrine at the edge of the pond. Bruno was trying to save her life, and she just wanted to get lost in his arms. She kneeled chastely on the cushion before the brass triptych.
“We don’t have time.” Bruno pulled a blue stone from a nook in the wall. “We need to keep moving.”
“Without the blessings of the saints, we will not make it very far,” Lorelai said. “I just need a moment.”
“I’ll give you half.” Bruno scowled, folding his arms over his chest.
She sank to her knees and touched her finger to her tongue and then to the altar. She prayed quickly for all the people in her heart and for their safe passage, then braced herself for their journey deep into the dark.
10
Bruno stalked down the tunnel. This was never going to work. How in the name of San Mael was he supposed to keep this woman safe when he could barely keep his hands off her? Sure, he would tan the hide of anything or anyone that came at her, but it was only so he could keep her for himself. He wanted her like he had never wanted another woman before. She was his queen in every way he could imagine.
That was the problem.
He had to stop imagining. Anything.
“What is this place?” Lorelai’s voice was soft and gentle as a small breeze.
“The aqueduct of the first formation.” Bruno’s fingers tightened into a ball. She shouldn’t be down here, running like a rat beneath the city. Forced to run and hide.
And yet.
This was what his dreams were made of.
Rescuing the queen. Having her to himself. His stride grew longer as he pushed forward into the dark tunnel.
Lorelai was the queen, not some serving girl or even an errant lady interested in an evening of excitement and adventure with one of the dashing knights of the realm. This was Queen Lorelai, now the widow of his king, and the one he believed should rule the kingdom.
“How does this still stand?” Lorelai asked. “It was more than a hundred generations ago.”
“This passage has been kept by the Order of the Regent.” Bruno grounded himself in the facts, not the stunning, voluptuous woman who hurried behind him. “We needed a way to remove the royal family in the event of an attack.”
“We’ve left the temple.” Lorelai looked over her shoulder as if calculating something. “We are headed south, and we have gone about a league…” She glanced curiously at Bruno. “I think we are under the River of Andor. About the middle?”
“Yes.” Bruno nodded, impressed with her sense of direction and judgment. “We will rise on the other side.”
Bruno caught the scent of jasmine and rose in her hair. How in the name of the saints did she step out of a prison cell and smell like heaven? She must have found some of the damn oils the sorcieres and priestesses used during their sacred orgies.
The tunnel went on for another hour, and not a word was said. Bruno kept the pace swift, and Lorelai struggled to keep up, but he dared not touch her again. With relief, he saw the ladder they would use to get out of the tunnel.
“Wait here,” he said, but when he saw the dismay in her face, he clicked his tongue and handed her the blue stone. She wasn’t used to missions. She had no idea of protocol. “I’ll look to make sure it is safe.”
She rested against the tunnel wall, the azure light caressing her face. He climbed to the surface on the sturdy ladder. He raised the wooden covering just enough to scan in every direction w
ith both his eyes and ears.
But everything was still. Just the comforting sound of crickets and other night animals.
The queen let out a small cry of relief and moved quickly towards him when he came back down. “Mael!” she cried as she twisted sideways and fell ungraciously. Bruno lunged, but in the dark his hand just missed hers.
“What is it?” He jumped down from the ladder.
“I’ve twisted my stupid ankle.” She tried to pull herself up, but a wince of pain crumpled her face as she placed pressure on the injured foot.
“By the saints,” Bruno muttered under his breath. He lifted the blue stone and gripped the queen’s twisted ankle, which was already swelling.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I must lift you.”
“Just get me out of the tunnel, please.” Lorelai grimaced.
Within seconds, Bruno had lifted her up and hoisted her over his shoulder rather ungracefully like a sack of potatoes. It was the easiest way to carry her. He gripped the ladder with his free hand and crawled up, pushing the covering off with his head and unceremoniously depositing her at the base of the bushes.
“Ow!” Twigs and branches crashed around her, a look of surprise on her face.
“Sorry, Your Grace.” He was grateful she couldn’t see him. Heat stung his cheeks, and he knew that if she were facing him, she would see his blush.
But the queen let out a slight laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that before in my life,” she giggled.
The sound of her laughter was more than music to his ears. It was a vibration in his chest, warming and rattling him all at the same time. It moved through him as it always did, leaving tremors under his flesh. He reached down to pull her to her feet, but as he did, she let out a huge shriek. Bruno spun around to see a dark shadow looming over him, and a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
11
Lorelai’s scream echoed into the night. She wanted to stifle it, but she couldn’t stop. Her body shook as Bruno was engulfed in darkness. It was as when her father disappeared into the mist.
“Silence the queen,” a voice rang out in the darkness.
Bruno emerged from the shadow and gripped Lorelai’s shoulders. “Your Majesty, be still,” he whispered, pulling her hair away from her face. “We are well met.”
But it was too much. She rocked back and forth, trembling.
He pulled her into his arms. “They are our friends,” he murmured into her hair. “Forgive me for not telling you we would be taken from here to a ship. That is all. They are our friends.”
Lorelai quivered, but he held her tight and swayed her.
“The Grosse Obsc—”
“Is a long way away,” he soothed. “We are south of Grenoble and will be traveling into Affama. Hopefully to Fado, if my mother sends word. Both perfectly safe regions.”
“I wrote her,” Lorelai said. “Don’t know if she ever got the letter. Cateline—”
“I’m sure she did.”
Bruno’s smile warmed Lorelai almost as much as his arms did.
“Control your breath.” Bruno stroked her hair. “Master your body.”
Lorelai’s shuddering subsided as she breathed with Bruno. She had to get a hold of herself. They were met by friends, supporters of her and the Order of the Regent. If she was to lead the kingdom, she would have to be more than a sniveling, frightened dowager queen. Taking a final deep, racking breath, she pulled away from Bruno. As much as she longed to be comforted in his arms, she needed to stand strong.
“Thank you, Sir Bruno.” She nodded grimly as she smoothed out her plain brown skirt and turned her attention to the men with horses. “The Grosse Obscurite leaves nightmares with all who have witnessed it.”
By the time the sun rose in the east, Lorelai was nestled on the prow of a small boat sailing up the River of Andor. There was a small, deferential crew on the ship, saying, “Please, Your Highness,” everywhere they went, although there wasn’t really anywhere to go. Mostly, they sat on the edges of the boat, making it look like any other random fishing vessel out for a day’s catch.
Bruno sat at the rudder, muscles bulging as he gripped the helm. They were going against the current, so the boat had to move diagonally across the river, catching the wind where it could, fighting upstream the entire time. Lorelai had slept as well as she could in the blankets they had found for her on the rocking boat. But as she rose and sat next to Bruno, he looked ridiculously tired, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Allow me.” She reached out and pushed his hand off the rudder.
“It’s hard work,” Bruno said.
Lorelai laughed.
“I am a daughter of Bas Terrenia,” she said. “I might have lived in Castle Ashford for the last eight years, surrounded by fields, but I wasn’t born there. And judging by the way you guide this ship, I might have a bit more experience than you.” She enjoyed the way Bruno cocked his eyebrow at her.
“By all means then, Your Highness.” He motioned her to the rudder and moved back just enough to allow her space to sit.
The skirts she wore were rough-hewn and snagged against the coarse wooden planks of the boat. A light breeze on the river lifted her hair and cooled her cheeks.
It was so freeing. She was never allowed these things as queen. Instead, her hair was coiffed within an inch of its life and she sat on a throne as a slow barge moved upriver. She would grace villagers with a wave of her hand, always understanding the queen was someone to be looked at and admired from afar. But this was different. This reminded her of being back home, when she could simply take a small river craft out for a fun sail. Her body expanded with the crisp outdoors. Without a corset, her chest could finally breathe for the first time in what seemed like ages. Despite the trials of the last few days, she felt invigorated and healthy.
“You handle the rudder well,” Bruno said.
Lorelai grinned at him, and his cheeks flushed a bright red. She liked it. A light laugh rose from her throat, and his eyes glowed bright as he looked at her.
“I grew up on sailboats.” She smiled. “It’s something that never leaves your blood. Maybe like riding a horse. You know what it is and how it works. I don’t think it will ever leave me. Did you not grow up by the sea as well?”
“I did,” he said. “But I was much more interested in swordplay and the vineyards than the water. Reyn’s the one who knows boats.”
Lorelai stared at the passing scrubland. She had been too forward and too free. Bruno was always holding and sweet-talking ladies. She had read too much into it. He was reminding her of Reyn and letting her know he was not interested. He was probably wishing right now he’d stayed in the city to free Taron and Andre and left Reyn to babysit her. Never mind, Lorelai thought. She wasn’t going to let his mood stop her from enjoying the sudden burst of freedom soaring through her.
She breathed deeply. “It reminds me so much of home. Well, except the landscape is completely different.”
“Right, not quite as pretty, is it?” Bruno said.
“Well, I don’t know about that.” Swathes of beige fields surrounded them, billowing out like a cape caught in the wind. “They are simply different. Bas Terrenia is rain-drenched and overgrown, but here I think the earth is hiding some treasured seed lying dormant that will someday grow.”
“You have a beautiful mind,” Bruno said. When she caught him in her pale blue gaze, he quickly added, “Your Majesty.”
Lorelai stretched across the rudder, tapping him gently on the knee. “Maybe you shouldn’t call me that while we’re incognito.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly at him.
“Lorelai,” he said slowly. It sounded like he might have said the word over and over again in his head.
She leaned towards him, her pulse racing, wanting him to say her name again. And again, and again, perhaps. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and Lorelai’s breath caught in her throat as saliva moistened her mouth.
A thud behind them startled her. They
weren’t alone on the boat. Self-consciously, she pulled back from him and turned away as if simply taking in the scenery. But there was something odd on the horizon, something she could distract herself with.
“What is that?” Lorelai squinted against the high sun. “Those boxes.”
Bruno’s face turned grim as he followed her gaze across the stern. “A shantytown.”
“A what?” Lorelai cleared a handful of her red hair from her face.
“A small town, you know, an impermanent town. They spring up when people have nowhere else to go.” Bruno chewed on his lower lip. “A few of them have appeared in our duchy as well. My lady mother was telling me.”
“What do you mean they have nowhere else to go? Where is their liege lord? Is not everyone sworn to a lord of some level who shall care for them?” Lorelai pressed the rudder so the boat swerved closer to the shore.
“I believe that is the intention,” Bruno said.
“It isn’t a town,” she sputtered as they drew up to the banks. “It’s not anything but, but, shipping crates.”
The large wooden boxes often were brought to the capital full of tapestries, pottery, and other valuables used in trade. She never wondered what happened to the boxes once they were emptied and the goods sold. She assumed they were chopped up and used for firewood. Never in a million years would she have thought someone would sleep in one. Lorelai swung the rudder hard right.
“What are you doing?” Bruno asked, reaching for the rudder, but she put her hand up to stop him.
“We’re going to shore,” she said. “I will see how these people live.”
“This is not a good idea,” Bruno said.
She waved him away. “You cannot ask me to rule the people without allowing me to see them. Tell them to shift the sails.”
These were her people.
She had spent the last eight years focused on her husband and the court. Worrying about the grand houses of Valliere and their fealty to the monarchy. She had been told the people were well cared for and loved and the borders were safe, but the only time she’d been out with the people was on the barge.