Warrior

by Lori Brighton

  Bryn bowed his head. “I was just leaving.”

  Bryn was a hero. A warrior. He would give his life for any one of us. I frowned, watching him disappear out the door. But there was such a thing as too honorable. After all, a person who only saw things in black and white, who couldn’t bend, would eventually break.

  “Your aunt was looking for you, my lady,” Helen explained. “I told her I wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but I wanted to warn you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I liked Bryn, I enjoyed talking to him. I even looked forward to flirting. But I had things to do, plans that didn’t involve him, and my time was running out. When I’d first arrived here, my only thought had been to get back home to New York. Now I had to save a kingdom from war. But in order to save these people from war, I had a feeling I had to save an enemy prince from a beheading. I’d think about Bryn and my confusing emotions for him later.

  I started toward the door. “Helen, I need to know everything about the law here. What happens if…” Something buzzed across my line of vision, so close it brushed the tip of my nose and sent me stumbling back. “What the hell was that?”

  Too large to be a bee. I spun around, trying to follow its erratic movements as it raced around the gardens. It didn’t flutter like a butterfly. The size of a bluebird, but it didn’t dart like a bird, nor did it seem to have feathers. I swore I could hear the oddest sound coming from the insect, almost like the chime of bells.

  “Is it laughing at me?”

  “Merlin’s blessings!” Helen hiked up her skirts with her left hand, and in a completely unladylike fashion, the likes of which I’d never seen from her, she darted across the garden, waving her right arm in the air. “Shoo! Out with you, little bugger!”

  A giggle parted my lips. Shocked, I slapped my palm over my mouth. I never giggled. The insect did a 180 and flew straight at me. My amusement died. My mind told me to run, my body wouldn’t move. Closer, closer, it flew, so close I could see the green of its skin. So close that two beady black eyes met my gaze and held. Human-like eyes. I jerked my head back just as it brushed by my face, stirring the hair that had fallen from my braids. So close it was almost as if…as if it was trying to intimidate me.

  “What the—”

  “Go on! Get out of here!” Helen cried out, glaring at the tiny beast. “Leave, before I tell the general!”

  Apparently, she’d said the right thing. The little beast shot up into the sky, disappearing into the clouds. Helen paused next to me, panting from exertion, her face flushed and sweaty. She rested her hands on her knees, but her glaring gaze remained pinned to the skies.

  “Helen,” I said, more calmly than I felt. “What was that?”

  “Pixie.” She took in a deep breath. “Nasty creatures.”

  I bit back my laugh, as I realized she was serious. “A pixie?”

  She nodded, one braid falling from its pins to land across her right eye. With a grunt, she swiped it back, tucking it into place. “Little buggers. Don’t ever trust a pixie. They’d kill their own mums for a piece of gold. Often used as…”

  She frowned, and I could see her mind working.

  “What?”

  She looked warily up at the sky. “To spy, my lady. They’re often used to spy.”

  A shiver of unease whispered down my spine. I looked not at the skies, but at the estate, and the many, many windows barely visible over the garden walls. Had that pixie been sent by one of my own people? “Do you think it was spying on me?”

  “Come, my lady.” Helen started toward the door, pushing me along with her. “I don’t know if it was watching you. They don’t normally come this far south. Most of the natural beings stay up in the mountains.”

  She closed my mother’s garden door and handed me the key. Bryn stood across the lawn, no doubt watching out for us. I didn’t miss the glance Helen sent him. She was going to tuck me away, and then tell Bryn about the pixie.

  Still feeling uneasy, I slid the key into my skirt pocket, along with the rose Bryn had placed behind my ear. “So, someone sent it?”

  She pressed her lips firmly together. I could tell she didn’t want to worry me. “Maybe. However, once in a while they are spotted in the south for no reason at all.”

  No reason that they’d uncovered. The conversation was not making me feel better. We moved across the lawn toward the servant’s door. A door left unlocked all day, at all hours. Anyone could get in or out. So much for security.

  “Don’t worry, my lady. You are protected here.”

  I gave her a tight smile. We both knew that wasn’t true. If the prince’s people weren’t trying to kill me, my own would do the deed. I took in a deep breath. For now, I had things to worry about other than pixies and assassins. I had to save the very people who were trying to kill me. If I could garner a peace treaty that worked, maybe my own citizens would finally accept me. And I wanted them to accept me. The realization hit me hard. I had no family. I had nowhere to go. I only had…this. Them.

  “Helen.” I stepped closer to the maid, not wanting to be overheard. “This beheading. Is it like, a for sure thing?”

  She frowned. Sweat still peppered her forehead from the mad dash around the garden. “A…for sure thing?”

  “I mean,” I paused, wondering how far to push it. “It’s a bit barbaric. Right?”

  She blinked her eyes wide, surprised. Apparently, beheadings were so common here that cutting a person’s neck in half wasn’t anything to get up in arms about. “He was going to kill you, my lady.”

  Was he? We entered the servant’s door and stepped into the cool, shaded hall. Prince Makaiden had slammed me to the ground, saving me from that arrow. I’d been startled by his appearance, but I hadn’t truly been afraid of him. I didn’t think I’d ever been afraid of him. Not even when I’d woken up in that tent, in this realm, days ago. But then again, I’d grown up in the city. Not much frightened me.

  Helen and I continued down the dimly lit hall. “He saved me, shouldn’t that count for something?”

  She sighed. “He’s the enemy, my lady. Don’t let his handsome looks sway you.”

  I slid her a glance. “You think he’s handsome?”

  She flushed. “Well, of course. That dark hair, those green eyes…all the people in his family have been handsome. But that doesn’t mean they’re good people.”

  We made it to the door that separated the servant’s living quarters from royalty. “I hadn’t noticed he was handsome.”

  It was Helen’s time to slide me a knowing glance. Okay, I’d lied. Of course I’d noticed the prince was hot. However, I didn’t want her to think I wished to save him just because he was gorgeous. I pushed open the door and stepped from the drab, dark servant’s halls, into the bright opulent corridors of the rich.

  Truth was, Makaiden had saved my life. He hadn’t needed to; he was under no obligation. In fact, it would have benefited him if I’d died. Yet, he’d risked his life to save me from my own soldier. A man who was supposed to protect me. I paused near the windows that overlooked that garden where the prince had appeared.

  Seeing those flowers, that lawn, hit me hard. My stomach dropped, my throat tightened. My own soldier had wanted me dead. And sadly, I couldn’t blame him. He knew I was a fraud. He knew I couldn’t even save myself, let alone thousands of people. If only Bryn had listened to me when I’d told him I was no princess.

  “My lady?” Helen’s voice startled me. “Are you well?”

  If I did nothing, my people would hate me. However, if I acted, did something, anything, I just might win. Sure, it was a pretty low chance, but crazier things had happened…like being pulled into another realm via the use of magical fairy dust.

  “Helen, who is in charge here?”

  Her perfectly plucked brows drew together. “My lady?”

  “I mean, obviously I’m not.” I turned away from the windows to face her fully. “Bryn said I need permission to visit the dungeon. I’m not making the rule
s. I’m not running this place. Who is?”

  She looked hesitant, unsure. “Well, I suppose your aunt makes some of the rules, with the help of the general, my lady.”

  I frowned. She’d mentioned the general in the garden when the pixie had arrived. “The general? Is he that stern looking older man with the black and gray beard I’ve seen barking out orders?”

  She nodded and started down the hall toward the back stairs, apparently expecting I would follow. “Would you like the gauzy, light blue dress for dinner?”

  Trying to change the subject? She glanced over her shoulder, looking so hopeful that I almost felt sorry for her. She hadn’t been given an easy task when she’d been charged with me. “What does this general do?”

  Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “General Gunvaldsson runs the army, my lady. He decides when we go to war. He also hears the many minor disputes coming from the people in the area.”

  The guy was judge and jury here. He was important. Very important. But I hadn’t even formally met him. If I was to be the queen, the last in the royal line, shouldn’t I have at least spoken to the man who decided our fate? I was starting to think I was only royalty in name.

  “And where is he?”

  She glanced at the grandfather clock that stood stately against the wall. A tall, massive clock, with a variety of fairy creatures carved into the dark wood. “In the receiving room hearing the issues plaguing the surrounding villages. It happens every second Wednesday at this time.”

  I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. I’d been here a week. This was my new reality, even if it was still hard to believe. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, but if I was truly the princess, surely I should know about our lifestyle, our government. And surely I should have a damn say in what happened.

  Helen caught up with me as I turned the corner. “My lady, perhaps you shouldn’t…”

  “Am I royalty here?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  I knew I’d put her in an impossible spot. She worked for me, but she was also loyal to those who were in charge. “Go to my chambers, Helen. Get my dinner dress ready.”

  “But, my lady…”

  “It’s for your own good.”

  She stayed put as I hurried my steps and turned the corner again, leaving her behind. I found the great room by following the sound of voices, amiable conversations and whispered arguments from those visiting the castle. It was a massive chamber toward the back of the estate that was used for a ballroom, or so I’d been told. Tall wooden doors were thrown wide and a line of people trailed from the hall, into the chamber, apparently awaiting their turn to be heard. Probably the only time in their lives they were allowed inside this castle. They didn’t wear the fine, clean and pressed clothing we wore. Their outfits were dull, worn, plain.

  One by one, those people waiting in line noticed me. It was the same reaction every time. First their eyes would widen. Then they would turn to their neighbor and whisper furiously. I heard the word “princess” more than once. Finally, came the curtsies and bows. Despite the lack of social media, things sure got around quickly here.

  It was ridiculous and annoying. My hands curled into my skirts. A flush of heat raced up my neck and into my cheeks. I’d never in my life felt more like a fraud. Eyes focused ahead, I moved down the aisle on legs that trembled under my skirts. The crowds would not sway me. I’d faced worse.

  The older man sitting at the far end of the room divided his time between listening to the villager in front of him, and watching me make my way forward. I searched his face, trying to read the guy. It was impossible. He was handsome, I supposed, for an older man. Tall and broad-shouldered, his blue eyes were piercing, pretty almost. But his black and gray beard and his intense gaze made him seem more than intimidating.

  “My lady.” He stood and bowed. “What brings you here?”

  He, at least, knew me, even if I didn’t know him. “You’re General Gunvaldsson?”

  Those blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Had I thought his eyes pretty? They seemed only cold, hard, the closer I got. He was even worse than Bryn. This man showed no emotion at all. Apparently, they all took the same class: Stoicism 101. I couldn’t appeal to his soft side.

  “I am General Gunvaldsson.”

  I clasped my hands tightly in front of me, realized what I did, and quickly released them. No nervous fidgeting. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  He hesitated a moment, probably trying to decide if he could get away with declining, then gave a quick jerk of a nod toward the soldiers lining the walls. They moved immediately, ushering the crowds from the hall in a shuffling of scurrying feet. No one objected. General Gunvaldsson had given a command. If only I had such power. Within minutes, we were alone.

  As the doors closed and silence fell, he didn’t say a word. He merely stared at me, waited, watched. I took in a deep breath. “It’s about Prince Makaiden…”

  “The assassin.”

  Okay, if that’s what he wanted to call him, so be it. Maybe it made him feel less guilty about ripping the guy’s head from his neck. However, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d saved me. “If we kill him, it will start a war.”

  He sat so still, I wondered if he had heard me. “It will.”

  Okay, that went well. He didn’t seem worried. Did this guy have a wife? Kids? Did he not care that war would mean death? Destruction? I tried to keep calm, but my heart was thundering so hard, I feared he could hear it. I wasn’t sure whether to be stunned, angry or terrified by his response. “Are we prepared for a war?”

  His shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. I’d offended him. “My soldiers are always prepared, my lady.”

  “I understand, but…” Hell, this wasn’t going the way I wanted. How could I tell him that I didn’t want the prince to die, at least not by our hands? “He saved my life.”

  “Yes, but he was here to abduct you, my lady.” He drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair, his first blatant sign of emotion. Was he impatient or bored? “You can’t possibly think they would have let you go? Treated you kindly? They are barbarians. They are known for their cruelty. You would have been a trophy to be killed, a symbol of their power.”

  I flushed, upset and angry for reasons I wasn’t sure. Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. “Yes, but do we want to be like them? If we kill him, we are.”

  The general’s jaw clenched. He was growing angry. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn’t seem to stop. The thought of Prince Makaiden dying, the thought of anyone getting their head chopped off because of me, was too much.

  “If you would just listen…”

  He stood, towering over me. I didn’t stumble back, although I wanted to. “We do what we must to protect our people. They do what they do out of greed.”

  “No matter what the reasoning, when people go to war, the innocent die. While I’m safe in this castle, protected and secure, those poor people waiting in the hall will be destroyed!”

  He stepped off the dais, pausing beside me. There was a sort of frustrated benevolence in his gaze that annoyed me, as if he thought I was too stupid to understand. “It happens, yes, and I appreciate your worry for our people, but there is no other alternative. I’m sorry, my lady, but there is no choice. You must accept that we know what’s best. The prince will be beheaded tomorrow morning.”

  ****

  The prince will be beheaded tomorrow morning.

  The general’s voice rang through my mind over and over. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. All day I’d been trying to come up with a plan…anything. Nothing. I had nothing.

  What angered me most of all was that they pretended they were killing him in my honor. But everything they did was to retain power. Their power. Not mine. I had no say; they’d already made their decision.

  My hand tightened around the small fork as I stared unblinkingly at the plate in front of me. Prince Makaiden’s people would miss him. I’d seen the way they respected their leade
r. They would roar with anger, with revenge. Did anyone back on Earth Realm cry over me?

  Maybe I’d become one of those missing girls on a poster, tacked up at a rest stop, forgotten by society within a few months. The world would go on. My heart ached. Ached with a fierceness I didn’t even understand. For me? For the prince? I wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

  “No, no, no, my dear. The small fork is for the deep woods snails.”

  “Of course,” I muttered, forcing my attention to the tabletop. “However, it doesn’t really matter, Sir Williams, because I’m not going to eat snails.”

  His narrow face flushed shock, or maybe shame. “My lady, they are a delicacy. Very rare.”

  I set the wrong utensil down, back in its rightful place. “Well then, it makes sense that we should be preserving them, not eating them.”

  His mouth fell open. Much to my amusement he couldn’t seem to think of a worthy response. For two hours I’d been having lessons with Sir Williams, the expert on royal protocol. Poor man couldn’t seem to make headway with me. Of course, I wasn’t really trying. I had more important things to worry about.

  Seated across the small table that had been carried into the ballroom specifically for me, Helen hid her giggle behind her hand. I was glad I could provide the evening’s entertainment. Truth was, I wanted Helen to like me. I needed a friend. Someone. My great aunt was a nice lady, kind and affectionate, but she was old. And she had her own responsibilities to keep her busy. Everyone did. Everyone but me.

  “I…see. No snails.” Sir Williams wrung his hands together. He looked as if I’d just told him his dog was dying, because I’d run it over. “Well then, shall we move onto…”

  “Do not say unicorn.”

  He pressed his hand to his chest and gasped so hard his dark hair, which had been sleeked back like a mobster from a movie, fell forward in a greasy clump over his eyes. “We are not barbaric, my lady. We do not eat unicorn.”

  “Thank God for that.” I glanced around the room as he lectured me on the delicacies of Acadia. Hard to believe that only hours ago this place had been filled with people vying for the general’s attention. My people. And their many, many problems. Could I lead? Could I solve their issues as General Gunvaldsson did?