by Cara Coe
Amelie had no words of comfort for such an old wound or such a large predicament. Simon didn’t want comfort. Peace returned to his face and he gestured to Talon as means of changing the subject. “What is he to you?”
“A dear friend,” Amelie answered.
“Not the one you love?”
“He serves the one I love.”
Simon nodded his understanding. “The exchange you two had before we left looked serious.”
“It was.”
Simon noticed her clipped answers and realized he’d stumbled onto her wounds. There wasn’t much Amelie shared with him. Their friendship was based solely on her rebirth in the White Forest. He knew only the pieced-together woman that also served Henna faithfully for she had nothing else to focus on. Nothing else to distract her. Until now.
Amelie glanced at Talon. She realized how many questions must be on the tip of Simon’s tongue with this piece of her past bloodied and broken in front of them. Talon was bloodied and broken for her. No wonder he thought him her lover.
“Simon,” she broached carefully. He looked at her. “He told me something of great concern that I think you may be able to help with. The king of Candor lies in injury. His body sleeps. I think his mind might be in the middle realm you described to me.”
Simon nodded. “It sounds likely.”
“Can you find him?”
“I can try. But not until we’re done running. I’m using all the magic I have to keep us going.”
“All right.”
Simon could see the worry on her face and tried to put her at ease. “I recover fast. As soon as we can stop, Amelie. I will see what I can do.”
It would have to do. Amelie leaned against a tree trunk, letting the bark scratch her back through her thin dress as she forced her thoughts to move onto something else. “The White Palace was not what you expected upon our arrival?” she asked.
Simon grimaced. “The queen did not buy our lovers tale as most did. The fact that most did is what kept me alive. But she had the head of the White Guard place me in a quiet room to interrogate me. But I take it you know John did not have any regard for the queen’s interest.”
“Yes. I learned that tonight. Did you know?”
“I did not. It’s hard to find others like you in the White Forest. Those that oppose the queen die. So you are careful to expose yourself.” He paused. “I was trying to come up with a way to get us out of there. And then you somehow managed to save the day.”
Amelie grunted her disagreement. “Hardly. What will Henna and Serena and the children do now?”
“I can still hide them from afar for a while. But Henna will probably return to the human realm with them. They will be fine.” Simon stood slowly and stretched his painful limbs. “Come. I have another burst in me. The farther away we are, the better. Where are we headed?”
Amelie bit her lip as an idea formed in her head. She needed to tell Simon her history before they got to Candor’s palace and she hesitated to blurt it all out in a rush while they sat hunched on this stretch of reprieve, in between bursts of running. She knew a place where they could stop for some time. Where she could tell him properly.
“I know a friend,” was her reply.
Chapter 21
Claudia
Claudia sat in the study, staring out the window at her kingdom.
Her kingdom. She shook her head.
Not for much longer. The decision had been made. She was leaving.
Was it ever her kingdom? King Byron still held on. Each day he thinned a little more, looking lost and skeletal in his massive bedding, drowning in rich cloth and shimmering blankets. The doctors dutifully saw to his nutrition and water, massaging macerated bits of food down his throat and propping him at the right angle to keep the water from entering his lungs.
The kingdom couldn’t let him go.
And so she had sat on the throne. Half a ruler. Caught in limbo. Navigating these dangerous waters of uncertainty.
And she had gotten lost.
Bastair had circled in. What he said was truth. None of his words carried lies. That was the hardest part. Battling reason. And what for? What had she been trying to save?
She looked harder out the window. Past the orange grove. To the gates beyond. She imagined the villages she frequented, visiting nobles. Keeping the peace between neighboring lords. Strengthening her father’s relationships.
That was her niche. That was her job. The task of ruling that was asked of her was too much. She glanced down at the ring on her finger. The only shred of goodness in this entire mess was him. Her heart filled with love she didn’t know she could feel. She imagined his dark hair. His blue eyes. The way his arms felt sure around her.
It had been the back up plan to leave. Let General Asher rise to the throne. Let the cabinet succeed a new royal at King Byron’s passing. Claudia could free herself from these holds and become a princess of Draeden.
More compliments from Draeden’s royal guard were en route. The princes were heading out on a hunting trip with some key nobles and several cabinet members. Even leaving, Claudia was wary of Bastair’s intent. Prince Kernan and Prince Seth intended to judge to the air. To make alliances. To salvage what could be salvaged underneath the pretense of an excursion.
It had been her idea. Or King Byron’s actually. Balls and parties and hunting trips to make light of heavy conversations. To introduce a common ground in an attempt to lessen the harsh feelings in debate.
The princes entered the room at that moment, to issue their goodbyes. Claudia looked across the room at her husband and smiled.
“Either way, we did our best,” she told him.
He returned the smile with warmth in his eyes. “Aye,” he answered. “No matter what happens, we have comfort in that.”
A quick kiss. And then they left. And Claudia watched them go through the orange grove.
Chapter 22
Amelie
“There,” Amelie said, recognizing the lands through the golden haze. The scene blurred and focused as Simon found it. She could hear his labored breaths. “Can you make it?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead, they turned in that direction moving considerably slower than when they started out. By the time they reached the fence that circled the property, they were thrown to the dirt unceremoniously. Simon heaved with effort.
Amelie came to a crouch out of her roll. Pain bit into her side and she eyed the culprit. A jagged stone on the path that must have bruised her in her fall.
She rested a worried hand on Simon’s shoulder, but he wordlessly waved her off, gesturing to Talon. Amelie nodded then went to where Talon fell. She knelt beside him and cradled his head. He was still unconscious but his pulse was strong. Her relief sang in her muscles.
“This is the friend I spoke of,” she said to Simon. “Wait here and I will fetch help.”
Amelie jogged past the gate entrance. She’d been to Millie’s parents’ house once before. It had been after a particularly rough mission when the two of them had taken on four spies. Millie had poisoned their ale. Enough to add to the drowsiness ale induces but not so much as to make them useless lumps of drunken flesh. Amelie had been startled in her hiding place by a wayward snake while they waited for the poison to take effect, resulting in a four-on-two fight. Both girls came out of it bruised, battered, and aching for days. But alive. Unlike their adversaries.
Four days on the Ketter’s farm allowed them to recuperate enough to mount their horses and limp back to the convent. Although that time Amelie had remained deep inside her red cloak and slept in the barn for fear of being seen.
The same fear irrationally gripped her now as she approached the modest structure on the crest of a small hill that served as their house. She was no longer the hidden princess. She was no longer a secret assassin. She was, in fact, dead. A condition she’d need to rectify if she were to help Claudia regain control of Candor. It would start here. On this doorstep. With Millie’s fami
ly.
She gave a trepid knock that didn’t match her determination. The breeze blew what was left of her skirt and she held it down to keep from exposing any more than she already was. There was no answer. Perhaps they were out for the day. The whole family worked.
Amelie was casting around for the barn she had previously slept in where she could pull Talon into for healing and rest when the door finally swung open and an older gentlemen peered at her from across the threshold.
“Is Millie Ketter available, sir?” Amelie asked him.
He straightened and leaned a little to the right to peer past her at Talon and Simon scattered on the ground outside his fence.
“No, Princess Amelie, she is not. But you are and your friends are welcome here.”
Surprise lit Amelie’s face and he widened the door to allow her entrance. “Gary!” he called to someone in the house. Millie’s brother. “We have company. Outside. They need our assistance. Quickly!”
He turned to Amelie to explain away her shock. “We have not formally met, but for all you mean to Millie, you are like a daughter to me. I saw you sleep in the barn the last time you needed my assistance. You were welcome to a room then as you are now, but the barn is yours if you prefer.”
Amelie’s shock still sang through her, but she managed politely, “The room. My friend is injured. Thank you, Mr. Ketter.”
With Simon’s help, Millie’s brother carried Talon to the main room, the one Mr. and Mrs. Ketter shared because Mr. Ketter explained, “It will be the most comfortable for him” over Amelie’s protests. A dress was proffered for Amelie wordlessly. Mr. Ketter did not ask about the state of her clothing and she gratefully took it, feeling ashamed though she hadn’t been left with much choice. He then settled Simon and Amelie down with cups of warm broth.
The run had taken them through the night and into the late morning. Simon’s stops had grown more frequent but he insisted they continue. Now, under the shelter of the Ketters and sipping on toasted liquid, his eyes were drooping. Amelie too felt the lack of sleep and food. Her head pounded.
Mr. Ketter gave them Gary and Millie’s rooms for rest. Amelie was too far gone to protest any further. She sank into the sheets and fell asleep immediately.
Chapter 23
Amelie
The rest did wonders for Amelie and, by the look of things when entering the main room, for Simon as well. He was bent over a saw, assisting Mr. Keller on repairing a chair. He glanced up when he saw her.
“You look better,” he commented.
“I feel it,” she answered. Her fingers flexed. She was anxious to get to Talon.
Simon noticed her remove her necklace and cautioned, “Pace yourself.”
Amelie gave him a quick look of acknowledgement and went into the Ketter’s sleeping quarters. Talon still slept through his injuries. She pulsed with his pains, selecting the most severe in his chest. Broken ribs. She laid her hands on his chest and took it, spreading it around her body. The fever flushed within her. She was also drawn to his shoulder. A deep gash, but she forced herself to stop. She would wait until the fever subsided and then tend to the next injury.
She found the men still working on the chair when she emerged. Amelie remembered Millie mentioning her father taking up furniture making when his back became too brittle for farm work. He had Simon sanding down the leg of a dining chair, rounding off the end. Mr. Ketter held an oiled rag in his hand.
Simon looked up when she entered, studied her briefly, then nodded with satisfaction when he saw for himself she’d healed in moderation. She replaced her necklace and watched them for a few moments.
“Mr. Ketter mentioned a fishing pond,” Simon said, taking a break in their work. “Not far from here, apparently.” He turned to look at Mr. Keller. “I would like to see this pond if you’d point me in the right direction.”
“Of course,” Mr. Ketter said rising. “I can accompany you, if you’d like.”
“No need, sir,” Simon responded quickly. “I do not wish to interrupt your work for my sake. I insist.” To Amelie he explained quietly, “I need to check on the orphans’ realm. I’ll be back.”
After seeing Simon off, Mr. Ketter returned to the house and gave Amelie some rice and greens to eat. “Millie spent the day at a neighbor’s farm. An older woman who lost her husband last season. She’s helping to manage the estate while some hands are hired. She should be back this evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ketter,” Amelie said and she felt she would never be able to thank this man enough. “For everything. For not asking questions.”
“There is nothing to ask,” was his response as he resumed work on the chair.
Amelie spent her time healing bits and pieces of Talon’s body and watching the window for Millie. Simon came back quietly and joined Gary in tasks around the farm. When the men were finished, they came back to the house, stomping the mud off on the porch and discarding the worst of their clothes in a wash basin outside. Now Simon was the indecent one and Amelie moved into Millie’s room to give them privacy. Though she wouldn’t have blushed at the sight, she wanted Millie’s father to think she would. She felt as if she needed to make up for her arrival in such scandalous clothing. She didn’t know how much Mr. Ketter knew about her previous life but now that she wasn’t in hiding, she felt a longing to behave as a normal woman would.
Simon found her some time later. After a short knock, he slipped into the room and cracked the door. He was fresh in some clothing that was slightly too small for his frame and smelled of mint soap. He sat on a stool and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“I found him,” he announced quietly. “The king. While I was alone at the pond. After I made sure the orphan realm was strong, I searched for your king in the middle realm. He is there. But it is not good.”
Amelie sat down slowly across from him. “What do you mean?”
“He’s been there a long time, Amelie. I’ve seen this before. His mind is fading. He won’t or can’t cross beyond. His body here in the earthly realm will die, but his mind will forever be trapped in the middle realm, tormented. The middle realm isn’t meant to be permanent. Souls cannot find peace in it. They think they are alive but they’re not. It rips the mind until it’s rotted with madness.”
Amelie gasped. “Make him cross. Talk to him like you talked to me!”
“I tried. Souls tend to dwell near their mortal bodies. We’re too far and he’s been there too long. When we get closer to him, I’ll try again.” He paused, seeming to hesitate before continuing. “I think he won’t leave because of you. That’s what I gathered from listening to him.”
“Because of me?”
Simon nodded. “Amelie, I can take you to the middle realm with me. If we are near enough to his body and if I hold onto you in this realm, I can take your mind there for a few minutes without harm. You can talk to him.”
“Yes.”
Simon’s eyes hardened. “I only offer this because he is suffering and it’s important to you. If I sense any trouble, I will pull you out whether you’ve managed to convince him to move on or not.”
Amelie let his words wash over her, not needing them to stick. Whatever he demanded, she would agree to. She couldn’t leave King Byron trapped in the middle realm. She remembered her own confusing time there. She shuddered to think of spending a year in such a place. “Yes, fine,” she complied.
It was early evening when she finally heard signs of Millie’s approach. Laughter floated from outside in through the open window.
Amelie went to the back door where she could see Millie walking up the path with her cousin. Still strikingly beautiful with the hot afternoon putting color in her cheeks and the sun glinting off her blonde hair, the drab work clothes she wore did nothing to dampen her shine. Millie had always been the more emotional one but it was Amelie who let out a watery sob at the sight of her friend. Millie was deep in conversation with her cousin but turned at the sound and dropped the basket of eggs sh
e was carrying.
They cracked and splattered in yellow puddles at her feet. Millie ran through them, her task forgotten. Amelie ran to meet her. The two collided on the path in a tangle of limbs and tears.
“You’re here!” Millie exclaimed happily. “I didn’t know when I would see you again!”
“I am here. I am. There is much to tell.”
Millie gripped her like letting go would cause Amelie to blow away with the breeze. Amelie clung to her friend just as tightly. A knot in her heart unwound. She’d spent many years side by side with this woman and a piece of her spirit strengthened having her next to her side once again.
The girls made their way back to the house. Amelie briefly checked on Talon who still slept. What she had healed so far made his sleep look peaceful and less threatening. She put pressure on his arm. Her magic happily obliged, seeking the injury and drawing it into its host. Amelie’s arm cracked with the pain of his broken arm and she swayed slightly but felt only a dull ache and slightly hot afterwards. She glanced at his leg and ankle. She’d have to wait for those. She didn’t want to be too weak.
She sat with Millie in her room, both girls sipping hot cider while Amelie tried to convey months of stories from the White Forest into the little time they had.
“One day when we have the proper time, I’ll tell you everything,” Amelie promised. “Right now, I have to get back to the palace. Talon told me of some troubling news.”
She’d already filled Simon in on the troubles that awaited them once they reached the palace. The surprise she expected at telling him about her royal roots was absent and Amelie wondered how much Henna had told him that he just never broached with her.