“You are a remarkable dancer.”
His whisper was nothing more than a soft breath behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine at the sensation. So he did speak. She’d started to doubt that he was capable given his lack of speech in comparison to his brother’s. Even his mother appeared a constant chatter next to him. But he had spoken to her. Did that give her grounds to speak freely herself? Faustine said to respond to questions. She said nothing of reacting to compliments. “You are too kind, though I must inquire as to why you chose me. What if I had two left feet and had fallen all over you on the dance floor?”
“I chose you because you were the only woman I felt would be capable of not falling over me on the dance floor. I detest feeling like an object to the female population and you were the one lady in the crowd who did not treat me like one.”
Had she heard him correctly? His voice was so quiet. It was a challenge to distinguish his words from the melody of the song. A prince who loathed attention. It was possibly the most peculiar thing she’d heard in quite some time.
“If only I had some witty remark with which to respond, but I must admit that you have surprised me. I was prepared for arrogance –”
The corner of his lips twitched slightly into a restrained smile. The edges of his mask around his cheeks prevented him from showing any more emotion, holding his features solidly in place.
By the end of the song, she found herself wishing it would go on forever, the graceful motion of the dance finally starting to flow comfortably to her feet. Keeping Faustine’s words in mind, she dipped into a low curtsy before the Prince, aware of the hundreds of eyes burning into her from around the dance floor. Other girls were jealous of her while many of the men wondered about her identity. She was an unknown to everyone in the room aside from Feolan and those whom she’d come with. There would, without doubt, be whispers about her all throughout the city by tomorrow morning.
She had only just risen back to her feet when she took in a fearful breath at the sight of Enaes standing at his brother’s side. “Not bad, brother,” he chuckled, stealing her hand away from her partner’s. “I think it is time that I showed her how a real dance is done.”
Before she could even think to protest, Enaes was pulling her away, his arms locking into position with her dance frame. She cast an apologetic glance toward his brother, unsure if he could even see it through the feathers shielding her face from view.
It was exactly as she feared. Though graceful, Enaes’s steps were far more quick than his brother’s had been, forcing her into a constant motion around the dance floor. Her breath was coming in short bursts despite her attempts to control it, afraid of passing out mid-turn. “Could we please slow down? I am not as skilled at this as I feel I should be.”
To her surprise, he brought their speed down almost immediately, guiding her back toward the center of the floor with a series of small turns. “I am compelled to ask you your name,” he said softly, his tone lacking in the gentleness she had heard from his brother.
“I am not compelled to answer.” Faustine was sure to have her head now. It was a direct disregard of a question by the Prince, but she couldn’t allow the answer to be spoken. Enaes would know her. At least she feared he would. There was always a chance that over the years he had become so wrapped up in himself that he’d forgotten the name of the girl who saved his life.
He was taken aback by her words. For the first time ever, she was witness to the Prince speechless. Silence was fitting for him. If only he wore it more often, his company might have been far more enjoyable. Leaning forward, he brought his mouth near to her ear, never missing a step in their dance. “I can obtain your name easier than you might like to think. It would be more pleasant for us all if you agreed to just tell me.”
“You would have me reprimanded for wishing to remain a mystery to you?” she asked curiously, finding his words to have a threatening undertone.
Not responding right away, he twirled her out away from him, putting on a flashy display for the crowd as he drew her back into him tightly. “I am not a fan of mystery.”
“That is a shame,” she frowned. “I rather enjoy it. It allows the imagination more freedom to add to the suspense of something. In this case, feeding your curiosity so that you might still remember me when you awaken rather than forgetting this dance amongst the blur of so many others you will share this evening.”
The final note to the song was like a breath of fresh air to her aching lungs. She wanted to get away from him. She wanted to get away from everyone. Even with her argument, it would be only a matter of minutes before Enaes would have found a means of learning her name. If she allowed that to happen with her there, it would be the end of her hopes for a peaceful night. He would never allow her rest, nor would anyone else in the room who was aware of her deeds. The story of the female soldier that rescued the Tanispan Prince was a popular one amongst the Vor’shai.
She didn’t care that her curtsy was short and lacking in the feminine quality Faustine would have preferred. All she could think about was getting away from Enaes. There was a clear opening to the door; no one would be able to stop her if she made a break for it. Her legs were carrying her toward the large arch even before the thoughts could fully form in her head. Air. She at least needed air. If she somehow became lost in the woods while seeking it, then she would be forever grateful to the gods.
Whispers erupted throughout the room around her as she exited into the foyer. Her escape wouldn’t go unnoticed amongst the town gossips waiting for a new piece of drama to add to their arsenal. She could sense the guards tensing at her approach, their bodies preparing to stop her if ordered but waiting for some kind of direction from the royal family. Hurriedly she moved by them, her heels clicking softly on the hard floor of the foyer. Once she reached the exit, there would be little they could do to stop her then. The grounds offered too many places for her to hide.
The temperature outside had dropped noticeably since her arrival, washing over her warm body with a shocking chill. She wasn’t entirely sure where she intended to go. Faustine’s carriage wouldn’t leave without the lady and walking back to her home could be treacherous. The forests weren’t the safest place for anyone to be at night, regardless of their combative abilities. Especially for a young woman who was unarmed and hindered by the restrictive lines of her corset.
Footsteps. Someone was behind her. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? And what if it was the Prince? Would he have already acquired her name and come after her to confront her after so many years? Just don’t look behind you. Keep moving and maybe they will go away.
“Leyna, please stop.”
Feolan’s voice was a refreshing sound. The tension in her body released to slow her pace, a sigh of relief escaping at the sound of his steps moving in closer to her side. Reaching out, he rested his hands on her shoulders, bringing her to a sudden stop while turning her to face him. “I need to get away from here. You may follow if you so choose, but standing still is not an option.”
“Did you tell him your name?”
“I tried to avoid answering. If he knows it now, I assure you he did not hear it from me,” she frowned, glancing nervously back toward the palace door. In the entrance she could see someone standing there, gazing out at them without making any move to come nearer. From the distance, the clothing the man was wearing lacked the outward flare of Enaes’s, calming her fears of having to face him again. The calm didn’t remain for long as her breath caught in her throat, recognizing the fiery hued tendrils of the mask covering the face of their observer.
Feolan followed her uncomfortable gaze, his hands lowering down away from her arms. At the sight of the young Prince watching them, he straightened his posture, his actions revealing his own concern over what was going on in the young man’s head. “My carriage is near the road on the far side of the yard. I will make my way there. Give a count of ten after I am out of view and then come find me. We will talk then.�
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Turning away from her, Feolan moved swiftly off between the rows of carriages, the horses and their drivers unaware of the situation happening around them. She fidgeted nervously, knowing that the Prince’s eyes were still upon her. What did he want? They had exchanged only a few brief whispers throughout their dance. None of it seemed enough to merit his concern at her departure, though without the ability to see the expression on his face, there was no way to know if it was concern which held him there at the door.
It had been at least ten seconds since she lost sight of Feolan. Her racing mind distracted her from the count, sending her heart back into fluttering at the realization that she needed to get moving. A commotion was coming from just inside the palace doors, shattering the young Prince’s calm stance as he slipped back inside the massive building. Run. If they found her, they wouldn’t let her leave.
Clutching her skirts in her hands, she ducked into the lines of fancifully decorated horses. The lack of light made the carriages all look alike, blending together in a long blur of shadows across the yard. How was she supposed to know which one was Feolan’s? There were too many to choose from under the circumstances. She needed to get out of view as soon as possible, the clatter of the palace doors swinging open and slamming into the side of the stone walls echoing through the night.
A sudden click at her right caught her attention, her head snapping toward the noise just in time to see a carriage door opening with a long arm extending outward. It grabbed onto her shoulder, gently yet firmly tugging her inside. Losing her balance, she tumbled ungracefully to the floor, inhaling a sharp breath just as the pressure of another body descended upon her, a slender, cool skinned hand cupping over her mouth.
Her initial reaction was to panic until she recognized the familiar grey glow of the eyes staring down at her through the darkness. Relief flooded her limbs, giving in to his weight to sink into the floor underneath him. She wasn’t sure how to feel about anything at the moment. If anyone were to find them in such a position, it would be a worse confrontation than a simple demanding of her name.
Voices echoed through the air outside. They were looking for her. She could hear the commanding tone of a man giving orders to another, directing him to search through the line of horses where they were hidden away. Fear gripped at every part of her, making her too afraid to breathe, though between the corset and the weight of Feolan’s body pressed against her chest, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to take a breath if she’d wanted.
They were right outside the door now, the carriage rocking gently at their attempts to peer through the windows. Adrenaline pumped through her body. It was a combination of fear and excitement, reminding her of the days she’d spent in Siscal. The risk of being caught was exhilarating. She had done nothing wrong and yet the guards sought her out like a criminal, hunting her like the cunning Sanarik hiding in the shadows of the mountain woods. Leyna wondered if Feolan could feel the hard pulse of her heart against her chest, beating steadily under his own.
By the time the men finally moved on, Leyna felt as if her heart would burst from her breast. She was aware of Feolan’s own heavy breaths, his head tucked down beside hers on the floor. The feeling of his skin against her cheek reminded her of the mask she wore, suddenly becoming aware that she no longer felt it over her face. It was too soon to move, though. Any sudden motion would disturb the stillness of the carriage, alerting the men to their presence.
Without the immediate danger of discovery, her mind began to race over everything at once, overwhelming her senses. Her thoughts leapt from one thing to the next, unable to focus on anything with the rapid thud of her own heartbeat echoing through her head. After what felt like an eternity, she suddenly felt Feolan’s hand start to gently slide away from her mouth, his arm bracing his weight against the floor to ease some of the pressure from her chest.
No words passed between the two of them. His eyes opened wide at first, gazing down at her in surprise before softening in recognition. The sight of his face nearly brought tears to her eyes. It had been over a decade since she’d seen him, the mask no longer hiding him from her. He looked the same, but different to her matured mind. She’d never appreciated the fine lines of his features before. He was rather handsome – a word she never thought she would ever have used to describe her old friend. She wasn’t sure she even understood what handsome was back then.
“You look – different,” he whispered. “I am not sure I would have believed it was you under any other circumstances. The only trace of the girl I used to know is in your eyes, and even they are changed.”
Smiling up at him, she hesitated to speak, still afraid of the men overhearing them and tearing open the door to the carriage. “I hope the changes are good, at least.”
Every muscle in his body tensed suddenly, stiffening against her where they were lying. He seemed suddenly aware of their position, shifting his weight back in a single fluid motion to rise up onto the seat. “Well, you are very beautiful. Perhaps I am just not used to seeing you dressed in this fashion.”
She watched him curiously, his hands straightening his shirt uncomfortably. He looked nervous, for some reason, though she didn’t fully understand why. Did he think he had done something wrong? “I might classify myself as many things, but beautiful is not one of them. My body holds far too many scars to ever be viewed in such a way.”
“Our people hold a deep respect for those scars which you carry. If they did not, we wouldn’t be out here hiding, now would we?”
“Feolan,” she started. The truth was embarrassing for her to admit. He still thought her a hero for protecting the Prince, but she and Thade were the ones who knew the truth. “I am not the great person you might believe me to be. When I stepped in front of those arrows, it was not because they were aimed at the Prince…”
Bringing his index finger up to his lips, Feolan hushed her, stretching his free hand out toward where she remained lying on the carriage floor. “The arrows were aimed at both the Captain and the Prince. It is because of you that they are both still alive. Do not try to cheapen the great deeds you have done just because you feel you are being praised for something which may not have been at the forefront of your mind at the time.”
She accepted his hand, knowing that what he said was true, but not wanting to believe it. To believe would be recognizing herself as some kind of heroine and she didn’t feel anything like one at the moment. Right now she felt like a fugitive trying to escape the guards who would take her captive and bring her in to their great prison. Prince Enaes may have the idea of bestowing thanks and praise upon her for her actions, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be labeled as a saint in the constant public eye of her people.
The seat was remarkably more comfortable than those in Lady Faustine’s carriage. Velvet lined the cushions, the dark fabric having been hidden from view in the dim light filtering in from the moon outside. “This is… nice.” Absently she let her hand run over the soft material. It felt smooth against her skin, reminding her that her friends had risen above the horses and rickety tents that had been standard during the war.
“It is Thade’s, really. He loaned it to me for the ball as a way of saying thank you for coming in his place. Regrettably, I feel that he would know better what to do in this situation than I do.”
“I have to leave,” she stated flatly. “Prince Enaes knows where I have been living all this time. He is the reason I am there. If he has learned my name, then he will be reminded of that and he will come looking for me. My preference is to not be found.”
It was a ridiculous thought. Never were girls supposed to just leave Faustine’s care. Once taken in, a young woman was expected to remain under her tutelage until the time when a suitable husband could be arranged. But she couldn’t stay. She didn’t want to. Marriage was the furthest thing from her mind and having the Prince’s company forced upon her was not a punishment she intended to subject herself to.
Feol
an stared back at her steadily, seeming to search her face for any sign that she might not be serious about what she was saying. Convinced she was sincere, he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the palace, peering intently into the darkness for something. “You are the only woman I know who would run away from the Prince’s affections.”
“His affections are empty and short-lived, from what I can tell of him. Any woman who would seek such from him is not a lady, in my opinion. I would like to keep my dignity as much intact as I can. All things considered.”
“I respect that about you,” he nodded, letting his hand rest on the handle to the door. “Because of that, I will take you away from this place, at the very least. We should get you home to gather as many of your personal belongings that you can carry and then we can discuss what you wish to do from there.”
Gazing back at Feolan solemnly, she gave a soft sigh, her heart still beating oddly within her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. There were no other words she could say to express her appreciation for what he was doing. He was putting himself at risk by assisting her. If Enaes were to learn that Feolan helped to keep her away from him, the punishment could be severe. He was known for his aggressive means of discipline.
Slipping through the open door, Feolan signaled at a man standing down near the end of the yard. With a hurried pace, the man ran toward them, quickly boosting himself up into the driver’s seat of the carriage. Feolan mumbled directions to him that were inaudible to Leyna’s ears before he climbed back inside with her, securing the door in place behind him. “We will be at Lady Faustine’s shortly. Be ready to run. You will have very little time when we get there.”
Folding over the clasp of her pack, Leyna gave a final sweeping look across the room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything of importance to her. For the first time since she’d told Feolan she wanted to leave, she felt a pang of sadness at the thought of never seeing the tiny room again. She would miss Maeri more than anything. It would be a blessing to escape everything else about the house. No more worrying about whether she was sitting just right or speaking softly enough to please Lady Faustine. While she appreciated everything Faustine had taught her, it had been absolute misery to endure.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 19