The wind slipped over my skin, and I had the feeling he'd initially started to say something else. "Thanks, but I'm not so sure I suit it," I said.
His eyes flickered over my face. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that I need a better game face. I shouldn't have said that to Sir Randik. Even though he deserved it."
Alex grinned at the wind. "Like I said before: you're creative. And you covered nicely."
I tucked a rogue strand of hair behind my ear. "But, Alex, what if they still don't do anything to help Valdon?"
"Then we continue as planned," he said. "But between your charmed tongue and the attack, I'd be surprised if they refused."
I grinned as I gripped the banister and leaned back a little, letting the wind comb through my hair. "I still don't like the fact that it'll take us an entire week to sail to Pendel."
"This isn't exactly a new thing," Alex said.
"No, but when we'd originally talked to Tran about this, there wasn't an army of shadowguard lined up along the wall. We can't afford the long journey now. We need to use the portal."
Alex's face was unreadable. "I'm assuming you asked Mercedes about this and that is what you wanted to talk to me about?"
I nodded, angling my body to face him, though he kept his facing the city. I couldn't help but think he'd kept his turned that way on purpose. "She said no," I continued, "but I was hoping you could help me come up with a plan to sneak through."
Alex was shaking his head before I even finished my sentence. "It's impossible, Daria."
"But we snuck through the portal in Valdon. How difficult could it be?"
"That was completely different," he continued. "Each territory has its own system for opening their portal, and even so, we were able to sneak through Valdon's portal undetected because my father was the one monitoring it. Gesh has its own very complicated system. Without Mercedes' sanction, such a breach in trust would most likely end in both of our deaths, and you can rest assured that Stefan would not receive any aid from Gesh in the future. Any attempt to sneak through would be a major violation of the protocols of portal usage."
I sighed, clasping my hands on top of the railing, despair raking over me like hot coals. "There has to be a way. Maybe we could speak to the High Priest at the Temple tomorrow. After all, he asked me to visit. Maybe he can do something to help us."
"Perhaps," Alex said, "but I highly doubt it. The venita rarely do anything without Mercedes' backing."
I grumbled to myself. "Why is everything so difficult? I never should have left Stefan in the first place." Suddenly all of my fears and worries that had been building over the past few days decided to pour right out of me. "If we even make it to Pendel, what if there's nothing there? What if the box really is just a myth? I'll never forgive myself. Running away like this, leaving Stefan to handle everything all by himself, with an invalid king, and right after father…" I shut my eyes and inhaled slowly.
It was still too close.
Death was cruel that way. Life could distract a person away from pain, but every so often something would trigger a memory, and the sense of loss barreled into you with the force of a battering ram.
Alex placed a hand over mine. I could feel the calluses in his palms as his warmth seeped into my skin. "Daria, Stefan knew when we left."
I opened my eyes and stared right back into Alex's. He'd angled his body to face me now, but his expression was tentative. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Stefan knew what, exactly?"
Alex did not break eye contact. "He already knew the shadowguard were preparing to attack in the north. He'd already been given Lord Commodus' offer. He already knew that Valdon was outnumbered." He paused as if regretting his next words. "He already knew we wouldn't have enough time."
I stared at Alex, hoping he was lying but realizing he was not. My hopes plummeted. "You're saying that Stefan knew all of this…before? It hasn't all just happened since we left?"
Alex squeezed my hand gently. "No. He found out the morning we left. Sir Armand de Basco had informed him of the shadowguard a few days prior, around the time of Prince Alaric's memorial, and that's also when Lord Commodus sent his offer. Stefan didn't tell you because he didn't want you to feel responsible."
"He didn't want me to feel responsible?" My voice rose. "If anything happens to him, I'll live with that responsibility for the rest of my life!" Furious, I looked away from Alex, my teeth clenched. No wonder he hadn't written, and no wonder Alex hadn't seemed concerned about it. He had already known. "That's how you already knew everything Myez Rader said…because Stefan had already told you!" I was so angry. Angry with Stefan for letting me leave knowing all of this had been going on. And I was angry with Alex for not telling me sooner.
Sensing my mood, Alex pulled his hand away, severing the physical connection. "I'm sorry, Daria, but he asked me not to say a word of it. He only told me because he…he wanted my advice on you."
"Why, so you both could stand there and plan my future for me?" I asked.
"No, Daria, that's not—"
"Have I really had a choice in any of this?" I snapped. "Or was it just a convenience that I'd wanted to go on this mission, and you both agreed to let me go just so you could get me out of Valdon?"
"Daria." Alex's voice was low and quiet, hesitant like he was tiptoeing through a minefield. "Despite what you may think, I believe in what you're doing and so does Stefan. He needs to believe, because without you, Valdon will not stand a chance. And you forget that I can sense your emotions. When you came to me with this…idea, I only felt a fraction of the pull you'd felt, but even that fraction was enough for me to believe. I know there is something in Pendel. Otherwise, I never would have agreed to Stefan's plan. I would've told you to marry Danton."
I spun to face him, my heart suddenly pounding as I stared him straight in the eyes. "Please tell me you're not serious."
His jaw clenched and he glared back at the city, turning away from me again.
"That's why you pulled your emotions back from me, isn't it?" I demanded. "Right after Myez Rader mentioned my…my betrothal to Danton. Because you still think I might have to go through with it and you don't want me knowing how you feel."
"Yes," he said through tight lips, his hands fisted on the balustrade.
"Alex, don't be an idiot. I'm not marrying him."
He faced me then, anger turning his expression hard. "You don't know that, Daria. If the shadowguard attack and Valdon is brought to their knees, you'll have no idea the sacrifices you'll make in order to protect those you love." His voice cracked a little on that last word, and he looked away from me. "This isn't… " He gripped the railing. "This isn't easy for me, either. I swore to Stefan that I would protect you in every single way, Daria, and I haven't been doing a very good job of it. It's been easy for me to forget my place, riding in the middle of the forest with you, away from all of this." His gaze swept over the city. "But it doesn't change things. It doesn't change the fact that you are an heir to the throne and I am your Aegis. I thought after this evening, you might understand just what that means, and how dangerous it would be if anyone suspected otherwise."
I took the slightest step toward him, and his body went rigid. He watched me only in his periphery, and when I reached out and touched his arm, he flinched.
"I do understand what it means, Aegis Del Conte," I said. "But you need to understand that I'm not giving you up that easily. Like you said: I'm creative."
I was very aware of the inches between us, the sharp lines of his face and the set of his mouth and the taste of past kisses. I let go of my cloak and reached out to run my fingers in his hair, and then I leaned forward on my toes and I kissed him.
What started out as a soft and hesitant kiss very quickly turned into something desperate, because I was worried he would pull away from me and that I would never have another opportunity like this again. He let go of the railing and grabbed hold of my shoulders. I thought he was going to push me away, but ins
tead he slid his hands down to my waist, snaked his arms around me and pulled me against him.
All the tension and desire that had been suppressed for so long suddenly surfaced, finally able to breathe. Alex no longer seemed satisfied with my lips, and his mouth strayed to the corner of my lips, the space beneath my chin and the soft indent behind my ear. I fisted his shirt with both hands and starting pulling him back with me, towards my bedroom.
We were kissing in the doorway when he lifted his mouth from mine, his breathing ragged. "Daria… we shouldn't… we can't—"
I snaked both of my arms around his neck and pulled his head back down to mine, stopping his words with my lips. His emotional wall fell then. Maybe he had let it down or maybe he didn't have the willpower to hold it up anymore, but it came crashing down and I could finally feel.
How had he kept so much desire hidden for so long? It was intoxicating, his kisses burned through me, and I felt ravenous for him.
I crushed myself against him, feeling his hard frame through silk and velvet and leather, and I kissed him even harder. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into my room, using his elbows to shut the doors behind us, and he deposited me on the couch. He kissed me while he peeled off my cloak, letting it land in a heap on the floor like an afterthought, and he wedged himself beside me on the couch, smothering me in more kisses. I could feel the heat of his body through my thin silk while his heart hammered against my chest. I untucked his shirt and slid my hand beneath to touch his warm skin, tracing the muscles from his shoulders down his spine ending at the small of his back, where I massaged the space there. We were a tangle of breath and heady kisses, hands everywhere, but it didn't seem to be enough.
It was never enough.
I slid my hands around to his abdomen and then to his belt buckle. He grabbed my wrist and then he went very, very still. He hadn't grabbed my wrist very hard, but just enough to let me know that he didn't want me going any further. He bent his head, pressed his face into the space above my left breast, and groaned loudly in frustration.
My heart pounded while Alex lay on top of me, still holding my wrist as his shoulders heaved, his face pressed against my chest.
"Alex?" I panted, running a hand through his dark hair with my free hand. When he didn't respond, I slid that hand beneath his chin and lifted his face.
He met my eyes briefly then shut his with a sigh. "No."
I swallowed, not trusting myself to speak because my heart was still pounding like I'd just run a marathon.
He moved my wrist aside and slid his legs off of mine as he twisted, resting his feet on the floor so that he could sit beside me. My body was still wedged between him and the back of the couch. He adjusted his shirt and dragged his hands over his face. When he gazed back at me, the look in his eyes was pleading. He looked so weak. So vulnerable. And I knew that if I tried again, he wouldn't stop me. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted me to try but he needed me to stop. But I didn't want to stop. I wanted to touch him and feel him. To feel all of him. And he wanted that too, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower to hold back right now. It was hurting him, but he forced himself to hold back.
"Understand me, Daria." His voice was rough. "I want you more than anything in both worlds, but…" He swallowed, taking a slow breath.
Very slowly, I slid out from behind him, pushed myself up, and sat so that our thighs were still touching. He dropped his face in his hands, emitting a slow breath. "Thank you."
I sat there beside him, a little unsure of what to say, because the first thing that came to my mind was, "You're not welcome." The seconds ticked silently by. My body was still drawn to his like a magnet, but it looked like I was going to have to just deal with it.
Alex pressed his palms to his forehead. "I underestimated how difficult this would be."
"It doesn't have to be that difficult, Alex," I said. "No one needs to know." I was a little surprised at myself for suggesting, well, what I was suggesting.
"No. Not like this." He pulled his palms away from his forehead and rubbed his thighs, like they were hurting him. "I shouldn't have let it go that far. I'm sorry." He looked back into my eyes. "I am not sorry for how I feel about you, but sometimes when I look at you…it's hard, and when you…" He hesitated, then took one of my hands in his and threaded our fingers together, setting them on top of his knee. "There has never been anyone else." He looked deep into my eyes so that I really, really understood what he was saying. "I have waited for you all my life, but I won't let it be like this. Do you…do you remember the vitality stone I gave you?"
With my free hand, I absently touched the base of my throat where it would have been, if I'd been wearing it. "It's still in my pack," I said. "I haven't put it on since Myez—"
"No," he squeezed my hand. "It's better if you don't wear it. I shouldn't have given it to you, Daria,"
I searched his eyes. "Why not?"
"Because of what it signifies. But you know that I can't seem to help myself when it comes to giving you things." He looked straight at me, a silent battle in those green eyes. "I don't take back what I said—my promise to you—but it is my promise only. I…I want to tell you the story behind the stone I gave you."
I'd wanted to know if there was anything more to his gift, but I hadn't had the opportunity to ask him yet. And considering how it was coming up, I didn't know if I was so curious anymore.
He squeezed my hand, and continued. "There is an old story in the Arborenne of a young woman who fell in love with the king of the forest. He wasn't human; he was a spirit—the physical embodiment of the ancient magic that belongs to the Arborenne. He was its voice. He was in the rain. He was in the blossoms of spring and songs of the birds, but no one had ever seen him, not fully. They might have caught sight of a shadow, but he had made himself visible to no man, until one day…" He stared at the middle-distance, still holding my hand in his.
"A young girl sat at the edge of a pool. No one traveled to this particular pool, for it was very deep in the forest and the people were afraid to go too deeply into this particular forest alone—they were very superstitious, you know. But she was brave in her youth, and in a season of drought, she had traveled there to gather water for her family. She was a beautiful girl and a very special one because she had been touched by the spirits. The king of the forest saw her there beside the pool and he was instantly intrigued. Never had he seen such beauty in a human girl. Never had he seen such grace, and he had to talk to her. He had to know who she was.
"So he appeared to her. The girl, of course, was very startled and grew afraid. She was still quite young—not yet a woman, but soon—and ran home, leaving her pail behind. She told her family what she had seen and then her father set at once for the pool. There was no sign of the king of the forest, and no sign of the pail, either, but when the young girl woke the next morning, the pail was beside her bed and it was full of water.
"The girl didn't return to the pool, but she never forgot the man, and the king never forgot her. He watched her from the forest. He watched her from the blossoms of spring and the drifting leaves of fall. He watched her change as she grew in to a beautiful woman, and he continuously felt the need to protect her. And through the years, he'd grown to love her. He loved watching her, seeing her pure and kind heart as she helped those in her village, for she'd become adept in the arts of healing—as was her gift. Whenever he could, he would help her garden, open seeds, and enrich the soil. She never saw him, but he watched over her, patiently waiting for the day he could speak with her again.
"And that day came. Her father's health took her to the pool once more, where she searched for a certain kind of flower she knew could save him. The king of the forest appeared to her, but this time she was not afraid, for greater was the fear of her father's impending death. She explained the state of her father's health and what it was that she sought. The king was overjoyed that she had need of him and that there was something he could do to help this human girl h
e'd grown to love more than himself.
"But the king knew the father was beyond mortal help. What her father needed was a piece of the spirit. It was a piece the king could give, but it would cost him his human form. Even so, he would do anything for her, such was his love. He gave the girl instructions. Every day she was to come to the pool, and together they would plant a seed and cultivate the flower that would save her father's life. Together they would do this, until the next full moon when the flower bloomed, when she could take the petals, grind them in a mortar and make a tea that would secure her father to the mortal world.
"Every day she came, and every day they would tend to the small plant together. Though each day, the girl would stay longer and longer, talking with the king more and more, sharing her heart and her desires while the king listened intently, clinging to every word, for her voice was like life's blood. She would try to ask him about himself, but he would never answer her. He would say, 'The time will come very soon when I will tell you who I am.'"
Alex rubbed his thumb over my wrist.
"I must pause for a moment to tell you something about the Arborenne people. They do not wed as we wed. There are no engagements. No grand announcements or banquets. They mate and that is their partner for life. And this young woman had grown to love the king. He was handsome—there was no denying that—and his heart was gentler and more sincere than that of any man she'd ever met.
"The time came for the flower to bloom. The young woman should've been relieved, but she found she was sad. She had grown quite fond of this man and didn't want their time together to end. She was also anxious for him to finally tell her who he was. And so he did tell her. He told her that he was the king of the forest and that after that night, he would never be able to see her again.
"The girl was devastated. She realized what he had done for her, that he had sacrificed his human form in order to save her father. But—again, you must consider the culture of the Arborenne—there was no other man she would ever take, for she loved this king with all her heart. So their flesh became one that night, under the light of the moon. Afterward, the king presented her with a stone—a red stone. 'It is my blood,' he said to her, 'from deep inside the earth. It has bound our spirits as we have bound our flesh, and whatever happens in this mortal life, my spirit will always be with yours, for we are one for all eternity, my soul with yours, and neither life nor death can tear us apart. That is my promise.'
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