by Serena Chase
“I think you underestimate him, child,” Lindsor replied gently. “But I can think of no reason to tarry.” He quickly explained how I had locked the door in the first place, confirming that I, indeed, had been responsible for Sir Julien’s imprisonment.
“The Giver has endowed all of his people with clear gifts, whether they acknowledge they come from his hand or not,” Lindsor began. “To some he gave the gift of being able to till and plant the earth to bring about a bountiful harvest. To others, such as the knight inside, he gave a strong body and mind and the firm resolve it takes to defend the Kingdom. To the Andoven, he gave gifts of communication with man, beast, and matter, that we would be better able to protect the truth entrusted to our care.” He sighed and I knew he was thinking of the Elder Council uproar.
“These gifts are not to be used for vanity or pride, but are to be used out of respect for the Giver. We are never to glorify the gift itself, nor the one who uses it. We are to return the honor of our gifting back to the One who gave it.”
“Well,” I said, “now that you’ve made it so clear . . .”
Lindsor smiled. “You may not yet acknowledge it, Rynnaia, but each time you use one of your gifts, you are only using it by permission of The First. Now let’s attend to this door.”
As he continued to describe the process I closed my eyes and concentrated on the keyhole. Show me how you work. My mind’s eye entered the workings of the locking mechanism. I spied a piece that was able to move. Move aside, I requested. Release.
There was a clicking sound. Open.
“Well done, Rynnaia!” Lindsor patted me on the back. “It is good that you’ve learned this now. It will likely come in handy after you leave Tirandov.”
As Julien’s boots clicked toward us, I stared at the floor, not yet ready to meet his eyes.
“I will leave you now,” Lindsor said. “I believe the two of you have much to discuss.”
A moment later I was alone with Julien.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to lock you in the library and I certainly didn’t mean to alarm all of Tirandov. Please forgive me.”
Julien let out a deep breath, as if he had been holding it for a long time. “Of course I forgive you, Rynnaia.”
I looked up. “You didn’t use my title.”
“Would you prefer I did?” A glimmer of undefined emotion flashed in his eyes, but I refused to look into his thoughts, though the temptation was strong. I’d never heard such vulnerability in his voice.
“No.”
He smiled and a little part of me I’d never noticed before melted when the vulnerability remained.
“I fear that you misunderstood the intent of my remarks earlier.”
“About that.” I swallowed. “I need to ask your forgiveness for what happened outside. I hope that when I understand my gifts more clearly I won’t—” I paused. Heat blazed into my cheeks, but I refused to be a coward with my words, even if I couldn’t meet his eyes. “When my training has advanced, I will be better able to prevent my thoughts from transferring to you. Until then, please accept my apology.”
He looked toward the doors. “If you’re not too weary, would you consent to join me outside? Please?”
“Earlier you said we shouldn’t walk together anymore.”
“Earlier I was a fool and I hurt you.”
“No, Julien, it was my—”
He stopped me with a shake of his head. “I have pledged my sword to you, Rynnaia, but I will draw on a greater power than its blade to protect you from . . . me. Shall we?”
We left the castle once again, but settled on a bench in plain view of its glow. I was silent, waiting for Julien to speak because I wasn’t sure where to begin. I did not have to wait long.
“So much has changed these past weeks,” he said. “My perception of the future of the Kingdom has expanded, knowing you survived, but I’ve also discovered things about myself I never knew. I’ve changed. As have you, I’m sure, in ways that I, having known you for such a small measure of your life, can’t even imagine.”
He chuckled then, but his eyes were toward the sea. “Less than two months ago you didn’t even know your name. Now you are every inch a princess and a skilled Andoven woman, locking and unlocking doors without keys. It’s amazing.”
“I’m still me.” I reached a hand toward the circlet of silver vines resting atop my head. “Somewhere, beneath this crown, I’m still me.”
“I know.” He faced me, suddenly serious. “Rynnaia, earlier in the library—”
“Please.” I had apologized. Did we really need to rehash the conversation? “I don’t wish to speak of it. I understand what you meant and you need not trouble yourself further. You are a knight, Sir Julien, chosen by the King to be my personal guard. I will respect your position.”
“I don’t think you understand as well as you think you do.” His smile was gentle. “And when propriety doesn’t dictate the use of my title, I do wish you would simply call me Julien.”
“It seems too p-personal,” I stuttered. “I would be more comfortable with the title, I think.”
“King Jarryn never hesitates to call his knights, his friends, by our given names. The bonds of friendship supersede titles. Are we not still friends?”
“Of course we are.” I looked down at the ground, trying to blink my tears away.
“Good. I am immeasurably glad to be your friend.” He paused and took my hand. “But I am not content to be your friend.”
My head swung toward his, but I quickly looked away. With his free hand he pulled my chin back toward him.
“Rynnaia, I have never felt such deep regard—” He shook his head. “No, that’s not the right word. Fondness? Affection? Enchantment? Hope?” The breath that escaped him had the cadence of happiness and disbelief all rolled into one. “I feel all these for you, and more. Do you not, with all of your Andoven abilities, sense that my regard for you has increased well beyond the commonness of friendship?”
“But I mistook my own thoughts for yours. I saw—”
I paused, hoping a breath would loosen the pain tightening my throat and give me a word that wasn’t as precious, nor as humiliating, as love. But since I couldn’t deny that word was now firmly attached to my feelings for Julien, the pressure only increased. When I spoke, my words barely held the volume of a whisper. “I saw something that wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”
“No, Princess, you saw what was true. Look again. I’m ready for you this time.” He squeezed my hand. “Please.”
I closed my eyes and tried to gather my strength.
He rubbed his thumb along the back of my hand.
I opened my eyes and fell into his.
Remnants of the gray with which I had guarded his thoughts from Jezmyn still lingered. I pushed them away, but what I saw was the same as before. My feelings were on display in his mind. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I can’t.”
“Please, Rynnaia. Try. I need you to see the truth. I need you to see my heart.”
The tenderness in his voice brought a groan of agony from my chest. He cupped my chin and tilted my face upward. A tear squeezed from my closed lashes and fell on my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away, but he beat me to it.
At his touch, colors washed over me. Blue and orange, green and gold, his colors and mine danced and twirled, never combining, but never truly separating. It was so beautiful, so real, so true.
But it couldn’t be true.
“Julien, I—” I choked out a sob. “I’m sorry! I can’t seem to help it. Please! It’s more than I can bear!”
But he held fast to my hand. I was immersed in the exquisite dance of colors.
“Trust what you see, Rynnaia. It’s real.”
“But you said—”
“I was unclear.” He brushed the tears from my cheeks. “You left before I could explain myself and I was quite unable to follow you.”
I finally had the strength to open my eyes. “Forgive me. I didn’t
mean to—”
“I have forgiven you, Rynnaia. I could never withhold such from you. I’m not sure I could withhold anything from you.”
“I’ve tried to keep my promise, Julien. I’ve tried to block your thoughts and protect your privacy. That’s why I can’t trust what I see now.”
The realization of what I was saying and what had actually happened was slow in coming. His thoughts were not blocked from me now. I had pushed all of the grayness away. I had seen the truth. I had seen Julien. And his feelings for me.
My eyes widened. “It’s true?”
“It’s true.” He smiled. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember how Rowlen reacted to me?”
I nodded. My lip twitched upward at the memory.
“How would he respond to our spending this sort of time together, now that we’ve admitted our feelings for one another?”
I winced. “He would call you out. Or haul me away. Or both.”
“Exactly.” He chuckled, but there was something pained in his humor. “We’ve spent much more time alone than would be considered proper by most standards.”
It was true. Between the days at Fyrlean Manor and our stay in Port Dyn, the hours we’d passed alone together were well outside the bounds of propriety. Even now, while in full view of anyone peering out of the castle, our situation might seem improper.
“But ours is not a usual situation,” Julien continued, “and until this evening there was never a time that the boundaries of propriety were crossed.”
And yet the heat of his hand still warmed mine as if he had no intention of letting it go.
“The truth, Rynnaia, is that I have grown to care deeply for you. And more than anything, I wish the King was here so that I might seek his approval of my suit.”
I tore my gaze from our entwined hands and finally met his eyes. “You wish to court me?”
“More than even you, with all your Andoven abilities, could possibly know.”
I sighed and tension escaped as if the world of winter had fallen off my shoulders and filled my heart with the promise of spring.
“But I cannot pursue that course without the King’s leave,” he continued, “and since we have no idea when we will see him, we are at an impasse.”
A frown pulled at my brow. Would the King give his permission? My thoughts poured over one another with such force that I could not form them aloud.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words, Rynnaia.” Julien’s eyes sparkled. “Perhaps you wish to refuse my suit before I get the chance to speak with your father?”
Before I speak with your father. My father!
Uncle Drinius!
“Julien, I have news!” I jumped up. “While you were locked in the library I tried to contact the King, but instead I saw my uncle. Sir Drinius, that is, and Sir Gladiel!”
“My father?” He was immediately on his feet. “He’s here? At Tirandov?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. No, not here.” I explained my experience in the Silence room.
As I spoke, myriad emotions crossed his face. He sat down heavily, and with his elbows on his knees, rested his forehead in his hands.
I placed my hand on his arm. “At least we know they’re alive. There is hope.”
“Hope.” He remained still for a moment before he lifted his head. “You’re right, of course.” He sighed. “This fortress you speak of. I know of it, though only by repute. It is a Cobeld stronghold in Dwons.”
I had feared as much.
“Dwonsil warriors are cunning. I’ve no doubt the silver around the locks were cursed hairs from a Cobeld’s beard. They would know a knight would never try to escape through Cobeld-cursed bars.” He paused. “The enemy must know who they are. What they mean to the King.”
“Why would that matter?”
“My father and Drinius aren’t only King Jarryn’s personal guards, they’re his closest friends. They must be trying to draw the King to Dwons.”
I sat down beside him. “I’m sorry. I know if you were on the mainland you would be mounting a rescue right now.”
“If I was on the mainland, Princess, how would I even know this information?” He smiled softly, but his eyes suddenly widened. “Rynnaia, do you think . . . ? No.”
“No, what?”
“Would it be possible to—?” His voice was hesitant, but hopeful. “Is there any way you could send a message to my father for me?”
“Hmm.” I’d gotten there once. Perhaps I could do it again. “I can try.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Once inside the dimness of the Silence room, I relaxed. Picking a settee large enough to comfortably share, I took Julien’s hand. “I’m new to this, Julien, but I think I can do it. Celyse said the ease of my connection depends upon the strength of my desire to reach them. And I very much want to reach your father and Uncle Drinius.”
He squeezed my hand.
I closed my eyes. “Uncle Drinius.”
This time I wasn’t searching in vain for someone who fit the idea of “father” to me. I was calling by name and going directly toward the exact person I wished to reach. That clarity took me over water and sand and through the difficult terrain and fortress in a flash. Before I took another breath, it was as if I stood in front of the knights’ cell.
“Uncle Drinius.”
“Rose?” Quickly moving into the torchlight, my uncle looked directly at me. “Is it really you?”
Quietly, now, I said. You cannot risk being overheard.
“How is this possible?” he whispered. “I’m not Andoven.”
I smiled. As it turns out, I am.
His eyes widened. “You know.”
I nodded. I am on Tirandov Isle with Julien de Gladiel. Are you and Sir Gladiel well?
“We’ve been here several months,” he whispered. “In truth, we don’t know why they’re keeping us alive. But we believe they are plotting to use us against the King somehow.” His gaze darted down the dark corridor. “You must not let him be a party to any rescue efforts, Rose. That’s what they want!”
I hold no sway with the King, I said. I’m sorry.
“No sway?” He blinked. “No sway? Child, you’re the—”
“Drinius!” Sir Gladiel barked his name as he came into the light. He turned his eyes to me. He blinked. “It can't be . . .”
He could see me? But I hadn’t called to him!
But I had intended to.
“Rose,” Drinius spoke, “you know who you are now, child. Think of E’veria’s future. You must not take any risks with your safety!”
I will do what I must, Uncle Drinius, for E’veria. It will mean many risks, I’m afraid. But I will do my best to survive. At least long enough to find the Remedy.
His shoulders drooped.
You kept me safe from the Cobelds all these years for just such a time as this. Now it is my turn to put myself at risk for you and the rest of the Kingdom. I paused as a smile of pride lit his eyes. Julien wishes that I speak to his father for him. Have hope, Uncle Drinius. And remember you have my love.
“And you have mine,” he whispered. “With all that I am and for all of my life.” He motioned Sir Gladiel forward. “She’s with Julien.”
Sir Gladiel blinked again. He squinted. “I can’t—”
I concentrated my thoughts toward Julien’s father. “Sir Gladiel,” I said aloud. Julien’s hand squeezed mine.
“I don’t know how you’re doing this, Rose but, my sword!” He moved into the light. “It is good to see you!”
Julien is here with me on Tirandov Isle. He sends his love.
A possibility entered my mind. I had passed my feelings and thoughts to Julien before. Could I act as a liaison between the two men?
Without opening my eyes, I turned to face Julien and held out my other hand. He took the hint.
Keeping my concentration focused on his father, I leaned toward Julien until I c
ould feel the heat of his breath on my face. The word, the request, came from within my heart.
Meld.
At once, his colors swirled into mine, and when a bright flash of gold touched my mind, I knew he realized my intent. Pressing my forehead to his, I released one of his hands and stretched it toward Sir Gladiel, as if I could be a bridge between father and son.
I saw nothing but colors swirling around me. I could neither hear voices nor see faces. My world shrank until it was only color: mine, Julien’s, and what I assumed were Sir Gladiel’s. I put all the effort of my mind and all the strength of my heart into connecting the two men, but nothing resulted but color.
Something pulled at my fingers, as if trying to disengage their grasp. I gasped and the colors disappeared, as if sucked into the vortex of my breath.
I opened my eyes and sank back into the cushions of the settee. “I’m sorry. I tried as hard as I could.” I rubbed my fingers against my temples. “Maybe it isn’t possible.”
“You’re sorry?” He looked at me with a puzzled mix of wonder. “I spoke to my father for the first time in over a year, Rynnaia! I could see him! It was amazing!”
“But . . .” I sat up. “I thought it didn’t work! I only saw colors.”
“It worked!”
Julien jumped up and pulled me to my feet. He twirled me around until I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“You’ve given my father and Drinius hope, Rynnaia.” He set me back down. “And you gave me a chance to tell my father about you.”
I laughed and wrinkled my nose. “Your father was there when I was born, remember? I’m hardly news to him.”
“What I meant to say,” his voice was low, almost as if he was afraid someone would hear, “is that I told him how I feel about you.” He reached for my hand and raised it to his lips. “Thank you.”
I suddenly felt weak, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion of the communication or from feeling his lips touch my hand.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
One of the many odd gifts of Tirandov Isle was that the more I learned, the more my need for sleep decreased. Celyse explained that those who lived on the island for long stretches of time eventually acclimated themselves to the energy gleaned from the glowing stone, but since my gifts were so newly revealed and I wouldn’t be here for long, it was in my best interest to take advantage of it.