Misfit Princess

by Nadia Jacques

  “Oh, gods, no,” she said, hefting him over her shoulder.

  She didn’t bother to close the door. The hallways blurred together as she went through them.

  She left Dylan with the medics.

  “Do you want to stay and--” one of them called after her.

  “No,” she said. He was dead. She couldn’t bear it. She didn’t know what she could tell Petra.

  She looked over her people. A rough count told her Dylan hadn’t been their only casualty, but most of them were still there. Among them were the skinny freed prisoners from the last wave of raids, some in better shape and others looked like they were raring to get revenge.

  It was nearly over, Grace thought dizzily, relief washing over her. There would be a bit more clean-up to do, but the worst of it was probably over. So why did things feel so wrong?

  She glanced over, and the missing piece hit her like a bludgeon. Alex was gone.

  She took off running. There was no time to make a plan, only the pressing urgency to find her.

  “Grace!” Derrick shouted after her. “What are you doing?”

  She barely heard him, and did not answer. He plunged after her.

  She didn’t even bother to call out. She didn’t know how she knew where she was going as she turned corners. Counting methodically-- three, four, five, six-- she ran.

  She skidded to a stop in front of a pool of blood in the middle of a hall. There were scuff marks on the floor, scorched marks on the walls.

  Instead of inspecting them and looking for clues, she simply turned to her left. Nestled out of sight in a deep alcove, Alex had propped herself up against the wall.

  “Oh good,” said Alex. “You heard me calling. I didn’t know if you could.”

  Grace knelt to cup Alex’s face in her hands. “You’re all right.”

  “Almost,” Alex said agreeably, and Grace looked down and realized there was a reason Alex had tucked herself away.

  “Your leg. Can you walk?” She reached out and helped Alex up.

  “Can. Probably shouldn’t.” Alex stood on her good leg and let Grace take her weight. “One time, I had to walk out of a bank job with a broken leg. Took me ages to make it out. Longer to heal. So glad you came when I called.” Her face was pinched with the pain.

  Grace brushed a thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t hear you calling.”

  “Sure I was calling.” She winked, and then winced as her leg jostled. “Just not out loud.”

  It clicked. “You trusted in my connection to save you? Mine?” She’d never been able to do it.

  Alex leaned forward to press her forehead against Grace’s. “The connection is emotion. And-- well-- I knew how I felt. If-- if you feel the same, then odds were.”

  Emotion rose up in Grace’s throat to choke her.

  “Hey, don’t,” said Alex. “We still need to get out of here, and it’ll be slow going, even with your help.”

  There was pounding of footsteps.

  “Get back,” hissed Grace, lifting Alex back into the alcove with sheer force of will and standing in front of her.

  Someone rounded the corner.

  “Grace, you idiot,” Derrick began. “You couldn’t tell anyone where you were going when you took off like a scalded cat?”

  Grace sagged with relief. “She’s hurt, Derrick.”

  “I’ll be all right,” Alex said, pasting a smile over her drawn lips.

  “Quiet,” Grace told her. “We’re carrying you.”

  Derrick didn’t argue, and together they pulled her off her feet.

  “So, Grace,” said Derrick, in a careful conversational tone. “Do you have any idea which way we go to get back?”

  The bottom dropped out of Grace’s stomach. She’d left the map back at the camp, and the turns that had been so clear on the way out had vanished from her mind.

  They walked in silence for a few moments as Grace tried to find an answer. “Wait a minute, you know where we’re going.”

  “And you know well enough that you need backup.”

  “I won’t make a pattern of it.” Her arms were starting to burn. How far had she run?

  Too much of Grace’s adrenaline had worn off before they lowered Alex onto a low stool outside the medic’s tent. She exchanged a glance with Derrick. By rights, she should be the one to see to the health of the company.

  “I’m going to go check on everyone. Why don’t you stay here while Alex waits?” said Derrick. He slanted a glance back at Grace that told her she should stay put or else.

  It was exactly what she wanted. As Derrick strode off, Grace heaved a sigh of relief and tried to surreptitiously massage feeling back into her forearms.

  “C’mere.”

  Bewildered, Grace sat where Alex pointed, and found strong hands rubbing all the places that had grown sore.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Grace pointed out.

  “I’m dented, not broken,” said Alex, and proceeded to ignore Grace.

  Later, Alex came out on crutches, wearing a splint and a lopsided grin.

  “I snagged us some space on the outskirts of the camp,” said Grace. “Do you need a hand?”

  Alex gestured vaguely with a crutch. “I got it, but thanks.”

  Desperate for something to do with her hands, Grace laid out both her bedroll and Alex’s. She held a hand out to Alex, who was fussing with her pack.

  Alex demurred, lowering herself very carefully around the splint and crutches. “I’ve got it, thanks-- it still hurts.”

  Grace nodded and looked to her own sleeping bag. She didn’t know how she felt about it. She felt too many things-- that was the whole problem.

  Once they were both settled-- for a given value of settled-- Alex nudged her. “Hey. Grace. We made it.”

  Grace rolled over to face her. “Except for your leg.”

  Alex snaked an arm out of her blankets. “It’ll heal, and we’re alive. Wanna celebrate?”

  It took Grace several moments to process the suggestion. “Now? Here? With all these people around?”

  Raising an eyebrow suggestively, Alex said, “You’ll have to be quiet.”

  In spite of the cool summer air, Grace’s body felt very warm as she pushed herself up on her elbows. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Does it matter if it’s something we both want?”

  “It’s not what I want.”

  Alex’s face fell. It would have been comical if circumstances were different.

  Grace had to make her understand. “That’s not what I mean. I mean-- Let me take your mind off the pain.”

  “There have been-- a lot of women,” said Alex, hesitantly. “In my past. They don’t stay.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” said Grace. “Unless you keep pushing me away.”

  A million things passed like butterflies over Alex’s face. She didn’t say any of them. Grace was about to press when Alex said, “You’re right.”

  “So I can--”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” murmured Grace, drawing away Alex’s blanket.

  It was easy to get her tunic off, but Grace paused at her trousers. The splint posed a challenge.

  Alex lifted her hips and did a little shimmy with her good leg drawn up to her chest, and suddenly her pants were half-off and bunched around the splint.

  It was a little awkward, but Grace did not care. Alex was there, lying lean and brown under her, luxuriously curvy and everything Grace had ever wanted.

  She traced the curve of Alex’s breast, where light escaping from the camp limned an outline over the edge.

  Taking a shuddery breath, Alex said, “I hope you’re not going to stop there.”

  Suddenly empowered, Grace said, “You’re not going to let me take my time? After how long you’ve made me wait for this?”

  Alex let her head drop with a thud against the hard ground. “I set myself up for this.”

  “You did,” sa
id Grace, delighted. She followed the path her finger had taken with a line of feather-light kisses.

  There was so much skin to enjoy.

  The scent was utterly enthralling, and Grace let it overtake her as she nuzzled the sensitive skin on the inside of Alex’s thigh.

  The tiny muffled noises Alex made went straight to Grace’s head.

  She could feel the muscles in Alex’s belly contract under her hand, a tiny spastic shock wave of pleasure. Looking up, she could see Alex look stunned and softer than she’d ever seen.

  “You don’t have to stop,” said Alex. The confidence had gone from her voice.

  Grace traced her hipbones and Alex made another little noise, half vulnerability and half want.

  This. Grace wanted this version of Alex, too. She had a thought about how she could distract Alex and, lowering her head again, put it into practice.

  Later, Alex lay shivering next to her, and even though she still pulsed with want, Grace felt ridiculously satisfied.

  “If you want to leave,” said Alex, still a bit shaky, “I have no regrets.”

  Grace tossed an arm heavy over Alex’s waist and curled in close. She could feel how Alex felt, just a little bit, warm and satisfied and just a little bit baffled, a glowing seed of certainty right where her spine met her skull. If she could feel it, Alex could feel how she felt, too.

  “You’re obnoxious,” Grace said. “I’m keeping you.”

  Grace woke up because Alex was shaking her.

  “What?” said Grace, muzzily. “Is it morning?”

  “Actually, it’s halfway to afternoon,” said Alex. “But that isn’t important. Look what I’ve found.”

  She held out one of the pages that Grace had taken from Rudy’s study. It was one that Grace had wanted to study in more depth, one that she’d grabbed before hastening back to the camp with Dylan’s body.

  “There’s a pattern.” She knelt down next to Grace to show her the pages she’d marked. “I think I’ve decoded it. See, here are the passages where I think we’ll find the rest of the people.”

  Grace began to struggle out of her bedclothes. Freed, she pushed herself to her feet.

  Alex gave her a very appraising look.

  “What?” asked Grace.

  “I appreciate the look,” said Alex carefully. “But if you’re going to rally the troops, you should probably put on some clothes.”

  Grabbing her clothes from where they lay in a disheveled heap, Grace waved a hand dismissively while she fastened her trousers. “We know where we’re going. Let’s get moving.”

  Alex stopped her from striding out into the sunlight. “Hang on a moment,” she said, adjusting Grace’s tunic so that it fastened properly.

  Grace arched an eyebrow. “If you’re satisfied…?”

  Making a broad sweeping gesture, Alex indicated Grace could go.

  Striding into the sunlight, Grace winced. She had slept more than she’d meant.

  It didn’t matter, because they had a map and a clear path forward.

  Calling for Marie and Derrick, she went forth into the camp.

  In twenty minutes, they had a plan and split into teams.

  The news of Rudy’s death had spread through the mines. Grace wasn’t quite sure how the news had traveled, but when the second group of guards surrendered without any fighting, she knew enough to be glad for it. Without Rudy’s presence, it seemed that everyone who had been there was just there for the job.

  Grace wasn’t sure she bought it, but when she opened the door and Jack and Nell stood in the middle of the group of people housed behind it, she wasn’t sure she cared, either.

  “Grace?” asked Nell, rising from the narrow bunk hewed into the stone wall. “Grace, is it really you?”

  Tears stung at the corner of Grace’s eyes as she nodded. “We’re going to bring you home,” she said.

  Back at the camp, Pook ran towards his mother with the unrestrained abandon reserved for the very young. Molly held back, greeting her father in the self-conscious way of those almost ready to attempt some of the trappings of adulthood. In the end, they ended up sharing an embrace filled with enough emotion that Grace felt the need to turn away to give them privacy.

  She could still feel relief, but without the visual cue, the emotions subsided to manageable levels.

  Alex was there waiting for her as she turned. “I guess that’s all, then,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  Grace flopped onto her back in the bed, her body still humming. It never ceased to amaze her that she had this. Even though Alex still traveled more than Grace liked, now she came home to Grace’s little room in the manse. The last time Alex had come home, she’d suggested taking an apprentice and going into semi-retirement. Whatever happened, she was home now, and Grace intended to enjoy every moment.

  Alex propped herself up on her elbow and traced a line down Grace’s stomach. “There’s still a little time before we need to get ready,” she said. “Up for another round?”

  “Mmmm,” said Grace. She tugged Alex’s head towards hers for a kiss. It was lazy and perfect, she thought, and she could wake up this way every day if she wanted. And if she didn’t mind never getting anything else done.

  They sprang apart when the door began to rattle. Grace pulled on a tunic. Good enough, she thought, opening the door to find a tiny child with his mother’s dark eyes.

  Petra arrived a moment later in a whirl of fabric. “I’m sorry, he got away from me,” she said, scooping up the little boy. Once she’d secured him on her hip, she gave a speaking look to Grace’s hair.

  Grace grinned. She couldn’t help herself. Toddlers lived on their own schedule. “It’s all right,” she said, glancing back over at Alex for confirmation. The glance was habit, because she could feel Alex stirring behind her. A rush of warmth always came through the connection when Alex saw their nephew.

  “Oof, yes.” Alex rustled at the sheets, forming them into a garment-like covering that fell to her knees and tied off over her shoulder.

  Grace watched her as she crossed the room. The sheet didn’t conceal much. There was a hint of warm amusement at the back of Grace’s mind that didn’t belong to her, and Grace had dark suspicions that some of her less family-friendly thoughts were being reflected back at her.

  “Stop it, you two,” said Petra. A faint smile touched the corners of her lips.

  Grace felt privately mortified. She dug desperately for trousers and dragged them on.

  “It’s awful when Dylan has to travel,” Petra went on, blithely ignoring Grace’s mad scramble. “He’ll be back in time for the opening ceremony today, though.”

  “I just got in, actually.” Dylan walked through a door. He moved slowly, using a cane with his good hand. The nerve damage from his injury would never fully heal, the doctors had told them once they’d gotten home. He was lucky to be alive, even if his left side would never be the same.

  He’d made the best of it. Arrosa had seized the money, and even before he could walk, Dylan had made the case for the money to be used to set up learning centers in the capital city of every nation on the continent. “We need the open exchange of ideas,” he’d argued. “Our isolationism kept us from seeing the crimes that were going on right under our noses. This must never happen again.”

  With Petra’s support behind him and the success of the symposium fresh in the minds of the representatives from each country, they built consensus. Everyone agreed that building schools was a wonderful idea. No one wanted to do the work to make it happen.

  The special council had bickered for days, trying to parcel out the work to unwilling diplomats and dignitaries. Grace held out for the first several days before she lost patience. “I’ll coordinate it,” she had snarled, snatching the thick packet of notes off the table before striding out of the room.

  Dylan had found her that day at dinner and offered his help.

  Grace had looked him, smalle
r in the chair than she remembered, and thought back to the last time he’d offered her help. It had worked out all right then. “You can start with getting me in touch with the committee that put together the symposium.”

  They’d commandeered a wing of the manse for their work. After some persuasion, William had hand-picked friends he’d made across the continent to head up each branch of the school system. When they convened to disseminate the plans, each of the heads proved very friendly. After the third day of planning meetings, Grace went to bed with a headache.

  The next morning, Dylan met her outside the meeting room. “Can you pick a building site for the Couran branch?” he asked quietly. “I can handle the meeting.”

  Grace nodded and escaped. She returned that evening with a site selected to find the entire committee aligned on a course of action. After that, she unrepentantly delegated any task involving handling people to him.

  It had taken seven seasons of coordinated effort, and now the school would open. The first class would arrive that afternoon.

  Alex, completely at ease in the sheet, joined Grace in the hall. “Nervous?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at Dylan.

  He shrugged. “No more than usual. How about you? Ready to teach?”

  “What?” Grace cut in, before Alex could answer. “You’re teaching? Here? For good?” She had a list of everyone who’d be on staff. When Alex had gotten into town early, there hadn’t been time to review it. It was still on her bedroom floor, where it had fallen shortly after Alex had arrived.

  Pasting on her best innocent expression, Alex said, “Did I forget to mention that?”

  Grace had seen that expression too many times to fall for it. “Forget? I don’t think so.”

  Alex chuckled weakly. “Surprise?”

  “We’ll go with that.” She tackled Alex up against the wall and kissed her. The sheet started to slip.

  “We’ll, ah, leave you to celebrate,” said Dylan, starting down the hall.

  Petra followed him. “Don’t be late for the ceremony,” she called over her shoulder.

  “The ceremony can wait,” Grace called back.

  She pulled Alex back into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.