“But I do, he was a big brute of a man, so uncontrolled. And I have heard stories of Whylkin that haunt my dreams.”
Leena forced a shiver to her limbs, waiting until the vibrations hit her fingers before grabbing Amo’s hand. He glanced down to the spot where she clutched his palm, back to her eyes, wide and worried, and then he looked around the room. The guards were stationed far enough away to grant them privacy in the open area, set up for the sole purpose of their meeting.
“When I say there is nothing to fear, I expect you to listen,” his voice turned cold. Then it softened, “but since we are still new to each other, I will offer you explanation just this once. Do not question me again.”
Leena nodded in understanding, turning her gaze to the floor as though ashamed, knotting her brows in apology.
“The prince you speak of is inconsequential. He escaped your father’s hold and is returning to his own kingdom, but the boy is just another Whylkin fool. And soon we will have no need to worry about Whylkin any longer.”
Leena’s heartbeat grew frantic and she clutched his fingers tighter, afraid that anything she might say would stop him. Instead, she remained quiet, hoping the silence might lure him to more speech.
It did.
“The Ourthuri have made plans with disgruntled Whylkin lords, plans to overthrow King Whylfrick. And secretly our fathers have made plans on the side, to turn our armies on all of Whylkin once the coup is complete. Our enemies and our allies will not know what has happened until it is too late, and soon, our people will rule both kingdoms.”
Leena’s stomach flew to her throat, tumultuous, as fear sent a chill through her veins. Her father—king to even more people? Images flooded her thoughts. Whylkin people being tortured, carved, turned to unmarked. Blood flying from lash wounds. Battlefields strewn with the dead, Ourthuri and other. If her father gained Whylkin, then there really would be no stopping him.
Losing control, Leena’s gaze jerked up from the floor, meeting Amo’s burning hazel eyes. Instantly, he read her dread, brows knotting in confusion.
Leena bit her lips, retreating, searching for a cover up.
And then she found one.
“Amo,” she whispered, voice airy and weak, “are you to be fighting in this war? Are you leaving?”
He leaned back, eying her with pity as he crossed his arms, taking her reaction as proof that women really were the weaker sex. Leena wanted to slap him. Yet this smug reaction was more perfect than any other she could have hoped for, confirming for Leena that her deception was complete.
“The fighting will be left to less important men,” he assured. “My father and I will remain here in Da’astiku to assist the king.”
It seemed to Leena that a man so bent on proclaiming his bravery would want to fight his own battles, but she bit her tongue, no matter how much it pained her to hold the snarky response in.
“And you’ll remain here to be married,” Leena gushed, smiling wide, striking behind her veil.
“Yes,” he murmured, but Leena could tell his attention had drifted, tired of her already—mind still back on discussion of politics and war, topics he would never purposely debate with her. As predicted, he stood, offering his hand. “I should return you to your rooms. My father will be expecting me back in the throne room soon.”
“Of course.” She curtsied again before accepting his arm as they walked through the halls. She chattered on about inconsequential things—what flowers they might use at the ceremony, what food they might eat, how she couldn’t wait to dance the night away. All topics he expected from a princess.
Under that façade, her intelligence worked—was it too late to stop her father? Could the prince she had saved keep his kingdom alive? What sort of information could she gather? Was there any chance she might still escape?
So many different conversations swirled her thoughts, so many words, that she spun to her rooms with a quick goodbye, needing the solace and a private place to think.
But Amo did not let her go so easily.
As her new bodyguards held open the door to let Leena inside her personal quarters, a hand gripped her upper arm—hard. Surprised, she spun when tugged, stumbling forward.
Amo’s hand crept under her veil, cupping her face, too firm to be romantic. It slid farther up, to the crown atop her head, yanking it free so the veil dropped with a thud to the floor. And then he grabbed her behind the neck, shoving her forward until their lips met in a kiss.
Leena froze.
Torn between utter revulsion and the need to keep her cover.
But her body reacted for her, stomach recoiling, bile surging up her throat, fingers curling into a fist, voice murmuring a protest. But Amo mistook it for passion in his own arrogance and pulled Leena closer—demanding.
There was no tenderness, no gentle brush of her cheek, no subtle dance of their lips, no tantalizing tease of fingers—nothing of the love Mikza always communicated with his touch. This was her homeland in a kiss—hard, rough, mercilessness. This was the kiss of a man who thought nothing of the woman on the other side of his lips—a man who thought only of his own urges. And when it was over, Amo gone from her sight, Leena felt dirty. Used. Abused.
Unable to meet the eyes of the guards who stood and watched, offering no assistance, Leena rushed inside her rooms, fighting back tears, more determined than ever to run away.
But she couldn’t. Not yet. So she hid in the only way she knew how—she fled to the water.
Not even pausing to remove her luxurious gown, Leena stepped off the ledge and sank into the cool depths of the private pool in her room, letting the liquid rush over her, letting it wash the taint of Amo away, leaving her clean. Bubbles fizzed across her face, prickling her skin, crackling and popping as they rose to the surface. But the deeper she sank, the more it faded away, subsided, until only a smooth caress was left. The gentle hum of this world calmed her, pushed the palace and all of its people far away.
Leena curled in on her limbs, resting her cheek against the tile floor, floating in oblivion. For as long as she could remember, the water provided solace. For as long as she could remember, its cool touch openly embraced her. Leena didn’t know how or why, but she didn’t question—she could breathe under the water, could remain here for hours undisturbed, just as healthy as when she entered. And right now, that was exactly what she needed. To let the magic control her body so her mind could drift away, back in time, back to a better place.
Back to her first kiss with another man, the only man for her…
Leena was crying. She hated to cry, hated it more than anything else in the world. There was nothing weaker than a weeping woman, nothing her father hated more. But sometimes, she found, she couldn’t help it.
Like now.
There was no particular reason she found herself kneeling on the balcony, hands clutching the rail, looking out at the vast sea as tears dripped from her cheeks. It was more a buildup, of everything, of everyone. Loneliness clogged her throat, plugged it so tightly that sniveling was the only way air could creep through. All because she had done a stupid thing—she had opened the box with her mother’s possessions, slid her hands through the dainty rings, combed her hair with the old bristled brush, read the note she had left in case she gave birth to a daughter.
If Leena were a boy, her mother would still be alive.
But she was a girl, and for that, her mother had been killed. In a way, she herself had killed her. And once those thoughts seeped into Leena’s mind, as they had so many times before, the tears had come.
Pent up. Finally released. Uncontrolled.
“Princess?”
Leena gasped, jumping to her feet as she rushed to wipe the water from her face, to hide the evidence of her pain.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
Leena recognized the soft voice, filled with compassion. She grimaced, the ache in her heart only strengthening as she turned to find the last man she wanted to see in tha
t moment.
Mikzahooq.
Her bodyguard.
Her not-so-secret crush.
The desire to weep only intensified as she met his sorry expression. For months, Leena had tried everything to catch his attention. Fawning over his muscles. Granting him her most glorious smile. Pretending to fall just so he would catch her. Nothing worked—none of her feminine wiles, none of her tricks, none of her flirting.
“I’m fine,” she responded, straightening her spine, trying to put on a brave face. Failing.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Because,” Leena started, and then paused, thinking of a coy response. But her will to win him over was gone. For once, she wanted to speak the truth. “Because sometimes I want things to be different, I want it so much that it hurts.”
Mikzahooq tilted his head to the left, eyes squinting, gaining a light as though he was looking at her for the first time.
Then he took a step closer.
Another.
Another.
Before Leena realized what was happening, he was right in front of her, peering through her as though he could see down to her soul. His hand came to rest on her cheek, thumb gently caressing her skin. His forehead followed, landing gently on hers so their breath mingled. His other hand came to her waist, only half touching, light enough to tantalize.
And then he stopped. Waited.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
But Leena’s breath had vanished and she couldn’t find the words. So instead, she lifted her lips. Mikza met her half way, pressing his lips against hers, and they were kissing…
Weeks later, after many more kisses, Leena had asked him why—why then, why that moment, when she was covered in tears and looking her absolute worst. And she would never forget his answer.
Even now, trembling below the water, the words warmed her heart, soothed its ache, a perfectly crisp memory.
Because, he had said, before that moment you were a princess, untouchable, a young girl playing games with her guardian, flirting with danger for the first time. And after, you became the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I never knew love could happen so fast, that in an instant you could fall, that in one moment your life could change forever. But it did. Mine did. I saw in your eyes a woman filled with pain, older than her years, passionate and full of conviction. I saw someone who shared my dreams. And I couldn’t think to do anything but kiss you.
FIVE
Leena sat on her balcony, staring out toward the horizon, letting her dreams hover over that distant line. What was the world like beyond these golden walls? Would she ever see it? What would it feel like to breathe the sea in, to rest under the surface of those choppy waters, surrounded by salt and sparkling sun and life? How far could she swim when there were no walls around her?
The little jar of ointment in her palm waited like a question—when to use it, how to use it, could she use it?
Leena pulled her gaze away, fumbling with the lid, staring at the last gift Mikza had given her. On the night of her sister’s wedding, when they had been so close to running away, he had presented her with this lotion—a perfect match to her skin tone, makeup to cover her tattoos.
Looking down at her arms, Leena couldn’t imagine seeing bare skin there. Her arms had been covered with ebony lines for as long as she could remember, swirling ocean waves, blooming flowers, dazzling jewels, the best artistry her kingdom had to offer. Branding her as royal. Branding her as princess.
The biggest obstacle in her escape.
Leena ached to see if the lotion worked. But she squeezed her eyes tight, resealing the lid, and put the jar back down. Fingers trembling, Leena tried to breathe, slow and steady. She couldn’t afford to waste a single drop, especially not on a day like today, when the idea of escape was utterly hopeless.
Her gaze drifted back out to the sparkling sea.
Dreams were her only hope of escape today.
And yet…
Leena sat up, squinting against the harsh sunlight as she peered down at the docks below. The ships appeared to be leaving. Gleaming white sails were raised, and even from this height, Leena could make out the golden spears at the front of the boats, the Ourthuri battering rams. These were not merchant ships preparing to leave—they were war ships.
She stood, hands on the rail, leaning over as close as she could go. The few extra feet made no difference at this height, but Leena’s excitement still grew.
Something had happened.
Something had changed.
But, she tried to reason, that doesn’t necessarily mean for the better. The ships could mean a number of things—her father had been successful and was readying his victory fleet. The Whylkin king was dead and now her father sent soldiers to conquer the rest of their enemy kingdom.
Or maybe, it meant that Whylrhen, the prince she saved, had managed to thwart her father’s plans. Maybe it meant that her father had lost and there was still time left to stop him. Maybe her hopes of escape were not completely gone.
Leena raced back inside her rooms, slipping the ointment into its hiding place—the box with the last of her mother’s possessions—before throwing open her door. The guards stationed in the hall jumped, startled by her sudden emergence, but Leena paid them no attention. In fact, their surprise worked in her favor.
She started to run.
Before the guards had a chance to react, Leena had a decent head start, zipping through columns, lacing herself in and out hallways, not pausing to look back. Only when she reached her destination did she suddenly stop, push open a hidden door, and enclose herself in darkness. Then she waited, breathing in and out as boots thundered by.
Leena smiled. She and Mikza had uncovered many secret closets in this palace, private hideouts. For a place that appeared open and unguarded, rows of columns, few walls separating different rooms, there were certainly a lot of hidden doors to disappear behind.
Waiting for the sound of boots to fade completely, Leena creaked open the door, peeking out into the empty hall. She had managed to lose her guards, but she had no clue how long this sliver of freedom would last.
It was time to find Tam—a task that proved much easier than Leena ever dreamed—for a few moments later, he walked straight into sight.
Still hidden behind the door, unable to quite believe her luck, Leena poked her head out, loudly whispering, “Tam!”
He stopped, brows knotting together as he looked around curiously, unsure.
“Tam!” she tried again, still not wanting to raise her voice to full level—who knew who else waited around the bend. But this time, it was enough. Tam saw her, breaking into a grin as he shook his head.
“Princess,” he whispered as she opened the door to let him inside. “I saw your guards wandering the halls and came to check that you were all right. Clearly, you are.”
“Yes, well…” Leena shrugged, not sure if he could see her in the dark space. “I was actually trying to find you.”
“Why?”
She waited for her eyes to adjust, endless black turning to dull, shape-filled gray. The crack in the door let enough light through for Leena to just make out Tam’s face. More than anyone else in the palace, she trusted this man, her friend. But was that enough for him to help her? Enough for him to truly betray the crown, not in a moment of emotional weakness, but for an extended amount of time?
Leena wasn’t sure. But she had to try.
“Tam.” She sighed, wringing her fingers. “Do you ever wish life could be different?”
He shifted his weight, uncomfortably shuffling around. “In what way?”
Leena swallowed, gathering her courage. “Mikza and I used to dream about running away all the time, I’m sure you remember hearing as much from him. But there was more, more we never told anyone, things we would only whisper in privacy, under the stars.”
“Treasonous things?” Tam murmured.
Leena nodded.
&nbs
p; “What?”
Looking up from hooded brows, Leena studied his determined face, daring to open herself up to hope. “We shared dreams of a less cruel world, one not run by my father. We hoped that Ourthuro might someday be a warm place, not just in temperature, but in heart as well.”
“I believe we’ve all imagined that world, Princess,” Tam said gently.
Leena smiled empathetically, understanding the sadness in his voice, looking at a kindred spirit. And then she pressed on, more certain than ever of Tam’s response. “What if there was a way to change things? Would you help?”
He looked up, meeting her gaze, and whispered, “Yes.”
“It might be dangerous,” she cautioned, sure he knew the potential consequences, but needing reassurance.
Tam released a low breath, an ironic sort of laugh. “Do you know anything of my family, Princess? Of my heritage?”
Leena shook her head, disappointed in herself for never asking him about it.
“I was born here in Da’astiku, to a noble family in the silver levels of the city. During my childhood, I wanted for nothing. I studied books. I learned swordplay from the best masters. But for all my efforts, I was a disappointment. My older brother was far better with a blade, my younger far smarter with a pen, and I in the middle offered nothing. At ten years old, my father gave me away to the palace guard, and for fifteen years I have lived no more than a carriage ride away, but have seen nothing of my family. Not even my mother.”
“Oh, Tam,” Leena said, reaching out to land a hand on his arm, to offer some comfort. But he just shook his head, looking up from the ground with a smile.
“I do not say this for pity, I say it so you will understand. I did not know friendship until I met Mikzahooq. I did not know love until I saw the two of you together for the first time. And I did not know hope until a week ago when we saved that prince from certain death. For the first time in my life, I felt empowered, as though my actions were actually helping rather than hurting people. So that is why when you say you need help, I offer it willingly.”
Leena squeezed her fingers tight, embracing him in a small way, unsure of what to say after such moving words. But she did know one thing—hearing them gave her hope. Not just for her future, but for that of her people. The sensation constricted her heart, making liquid pool in the corner of her eyes, sending warmth to the very tips of her toes. Maybe more Ourthuri than she realized dreamt of change, dreamt of a different life—and maybe she could be the one to give it to them.
Leena's Story - The Complete Novellas (A Dance of Dragons Book 4) Page 8