by Liz McCraine
“No, I don’t need to see them again. I remember how they looked.”
“Yes, that’s right. You saw them at the palace, didn’t you? You looked away with disgust when you saw them.”
“Disgust at your scars?” he was shocked. “No! I was disgusted at what that man had done to you, not at how you looked. I was repulsed that anyone had wanted to harm you, that anyone had dared to touch you, to mar you. It enraged me!”
Her frustrations cooling at the memory, she said softly, “I remember. I saw you beating him and it frightened me. But I thought you were disgusted by me. Your face—“
“When I saw what Lucien had done to you…when I saw the scars…” He shut his eyes as if to erase the memory, and his jaw clenched so tightly that she could see the muscles flexing there. “I wanted to kill him. When my rage finally cooled, I realized that there was nothing on earth that I wouldn’t do to protect you, to cherish you.”
The words soothed her. Any bitterness that had lingered melted away, like winter snow under a warm, spring sun. Sir Griffen had been right. The man who had treated her so badly that night in the courtyard was not Christoff. Those words and actions were of a scared son who was told he was going to lose his father without being able to say goodbye.
“I forgive you.”
They were such simple words, yet their worth was more than all the treasures of the world combined. They were three little words that brought comfort and healing and hope. And Larra marveled at the magic, though unseen, that those words could spin. Her head became clear, the cobwebs gone, and the hole that she had carried in her heart for over a week was filled with warmth. The change was evident in Christoff, too, who was smiling at her and looking at peace with himself.
“Is that all you’re here for—to apologize? Is that why you’ve come all this way?” She had to ask, she had to know. And if the twinkle in his eyes was any indication, his answer was going to be worth her while.
“No,” he confessed. “I came for another equally important purpose. And I would have been here even sooner if it weren’t for the muddy roads.”
“And what is that?”
“I came to take you back.”
Larra’s smile dropped. “Back to work at the palace?” That couldn’t be it. There had to be more.
“No, not to work, though that is still an option. Larra, I know why you left. You were running from me, from us.”
“No, I ran because you told me there could be no us, and I couldn’t spend my life in the same building as you without being with you. That is why I ran.”
“As I said,” he repeated, “You ran from us. You didn’t answer my messages, so you never knew that I’d already spoken with my parents about my love for you.”
Love? Had she heard him correctly?
He continued, “I’ve felt strongly for you since the moment I first saw you. And as I’ve come to know you, have seen your strength and your courageous spirit and your goodness, those feelings turned into admiration. And admiration turned into love—a love so strong that I can’t imagine my life without you by my side. Yes, Larra, I love you.
“I know I pushed you away even before we reached the palace, and I did so because at the time I didn’t think there could be a future for us. I was afraid my parents wouldn’t allow me to be with you due to my birthright. But I was wrong to think that way, and I regret it more than I can express.
“After the fight with Lucien, I went to my parents and told them the truth—that I loved you, that I was going to marry you. And that I didn’t care if they approved or not, because there was no other girl in the world more right for me than you were.”
He chuckled softly, “I think they already suspected my feelings for you, because they gave their blessing and strict orders to court you the way you deserved. They seem to think you will make an exceptional queen.
He reached out again, this time cradling her jaw in his large, strong hands with a reverence that amazed Larra. “It doesn’t matter to me where you are from, or that you weren’t born into royalty, or even that you are magical. I want you, and only you, Larra. I want you for my wife, for all my life. There is nothing in this world that would keep me from you, except your not forgiving me.
“But you did forgive me. And so here I am, asking if you’ll spend the rest of your life with me. Even if I do make phenomenally stupid mistakes from time to time.” He waited, the question in his eyes.
Yes, she had forgiven him. But did she want to be with him? “If you ever—ever—betray me again—”
He was kissing her before she finished, his muscular arms wrapped so tightly around her that she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
Their kiss was fire. It was magic. It was the meeting of two souls who thought their happiness lost, only to have it found. It was the sealing of a future filled with love and hope.
“I will never doubt you or betray you again. You have my word.”
“The word of a noble prince?” Larra grinned. “I accept.”
She moved to his side and took his hand, pulling gently for him to follow. He turned only briefly to reach for the reins of the horse standing quietly behind him before walking with her.
“Come,” she said. “It’s time to meet your future family.”
As they walked toward the peaceful stone cottage nestled against the backdrop of the mountains, Larra realized the gnome’s fortune really had come true. With her whole life ahead of her and this man by her side, she had received the greatest of rewards.
Chapter 27
The king’s most trusted steward lifted the heavy box up the last stone step, pausing to catch his breath before unlocking the ancient, steel-framed door. The old tower stretched high above the palace, its long, curving stairway boasting what seemed like hundreds of steps. The tower was located on the outermost corner of the palace, poised high above the seaside cliff that separated Aggadorn from the Pyrus Ocean. The height of the tower and its position away from the comings and goings of the palace made it the ideal location to store old, unused belongings.
Entering the dusty, circular room, the steward made his way to an empty spot of floor near a small window that faced the water. With a groan of relief, he leaned down and placed his burden in the spot, then stood and rubbed away the soreness from his long climb. With a last, troubled glance at the box, he exited the room and closed the door. His key turned in the lock, the heavy bolt sealing the room shut with a satisfying click. Duty accomplished, he began his descent down the long, empty stairway.
He didn’t see the soft glow that seeped through the bottom of the door behind him. Didn’t realize that the small, black stone nestled inside the sealed box had found a source of power, a source of magic. Didn’t realize that the dusty, aging harp that rested against the wall, barely touching the corner of the box, would become a harbinger of change to all who resided in the kingdom.
End.
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Coming soon, in March 2016:
The Princess and the Pirate
by Liz McCraine