Woven
Page 31
Nels glanced around. “That’s really all I can do in here.”
“Oh! Right! I’m such a half-wit!” Tyra searched the keys, trying to find the right match. “You were right about Arek. I didn’t want to believe what you said, but —” She pointed at her ring. “What a louse! While I’ve been too weak to leave my chamber, he spread rumors about me being engaged to him.” The third key did the trick and she wasted no time opening the door.
Nels rushed from the cell and embraced his princess.
Tyra settled into his arms. “I meant what I said to Arek,” she said. “You’ve proven yourself a knight to me, and my father has agreed to accept you into Avërand’s ranks — just as you wanted!”
In the past, those words would have thrilled Nels. “Thank you … but I can’t.”
Tyra gasped in surprise. “I thought you wanted to make a difference.”
“You taught me that I don’t have to be a knight to do that. I’ve wanted to make a difference my whole life, but I never saw the difference that I could make — just by being who I am.”
She tightened her embrace. A single tear graced her cheek. “That’s all I want,” she said. “I love you, Nels!” She held his neck and their lips touched — longer than any kiss they had shared before.
As they parted, Nels whispered into her ear. “You’re rather close …”
Tyra smiled. A new desire burned in her eyes. “Not close enough.”
Needing no further encouragement, Nels smiled back as they kissed again.
Jilia sat in the town square, her mood a tangled mess.
Most of the wedding party had returned home by now. The guests had carried on for hours after the newlywed couple left for the Valley of Westmine, a political retreat some had called it — not that Jilia cared. The castle’s grand terrace was a wreck. Jilia wanted to leave, but her ride was with Lars, and he wouldn’t leave without Norell, who was busy chatting with the few guests who still lingered. The dress Norell wore — she’d sewn it herself, of course — made her look like a noblewoman.
All evening, Jilia had suppressed her quivering lip.
Why would you marry her, Nels?
Jilia couldn’t stop thinking about Nels, happily married to the last person she expected him to marry. She tried to distract herself by focusing on the potbellied guest who wore a lantern on his head, or the unexpected entertainment the Vagas had provided, and the strange wisdom of Mylan, the new Queen of Westmine. It was no use; her thoughts never strayed long from Nels. Sir Arek was the only person at the wedding who appeared as frustrated as she was. He’d had too much to drink, and he scowled at the newlyweds whenever he thought no one was looking.
Jilia let out a sigh. She had always liked Nels, but it was only a matter of time before some pretty strumpet his own age took him away from her. The day wasn’t a complete waste, however: Tyra’s gown — Jilia’s own seamstress work — was the most talked about topic at the party. The king had visited Norell personally to ask if she would fashion a dress for his daughter. Norell asked Jilia to sew a hem, and before she knew, she had finished most of the dress in no time.
From that day on, Norell kept telling Jilia, “You have a gift.”
The girl tapped the rim of her glass and listened to it hum.
“Excuse me, miss. Did you make the gown the princess wore today?”
Jilia looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She had seen this old man once before; months ago, he had accompanied Nels to the festival.
“I helped,” she said curtly. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was impressed to hear that in just a few days you sewed what should normally have taken a month.”
Jilia rolled her eyes and laid her head down on her arms. “It’s not that hard, really.”
“Harder for some than others, but there are those who have a knack — a natural ability,” the old man said. “And I have no doubt that you will make a promising seamstress one day.”
He searched his pocket and held out a small object. Jilia lifted her head and took the brass thimble from his palm. It surprised her how cool the metal felt in her hand. She looked up at the old man.
His smile reached his ears. “Would you like to learn more?”
Michael Jensen spent ten years developing the concept behind Woven before he met coauthor David Powers King, who expanded on Michael’s vision and made it a reality. A graduate of Brigham Young University’s prestigious music, dance, and theater program, Michael taught voice at BYU before establishing his own vocal instruction studio. In addition to being an imaginative storyteller, Michael is an accomplished composer and vocalist. He lives in Salt Lake City with his husband and their four dogs.
David Powers King was born in beautiful downtown Burbank, California, where his love for film inspired him to become a writer. An avid fan of science fiction and fantasy, David also has a soft spot for zombies and the paranormal. He now lives in the mountain West with his wife and their three children.
Copyright © 2015 by Michael Jensen and David Powers King
Map illustration by Isaac Stewart
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014947799
This edition first printing, February 2015
Cover illustration © 2015 by Oliver Burston
Cover design by Nina Goffi
e-ISBN 978-0-545-68573-3
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