by Jayden Woods
At long last, she closed her gaping mouth and tried to recover her breath. But despite how many times she had rehearsed this moment while waiting for him to appear, she could not find the words to say.
He looked up at her, revealing a tiny smirk on his mouth, and found his voice before she did. “Most beautiful and gracious queen. Forgive me for interrupting you on my way through this hallway.”
He might as well have slapped her across the face. And perhaps that was for the best, for at last, she felt her senses returning to her. “Arken,” she said. “I came here to speak with you.”
He straightened from his ridiculous bow, but continued to wear that smile on his face—a smile that, despite its charm, she knew to be fake. Whatever warmth it provided, the coldness in his eyes overwhelmed it tenfold. “Oh really? Why would the great Queen Nadia ever trouble herself with the likes of a man like me?”
He poised the question as a mockery. But she sensed a sincere curiosity behind his words, as well. “Arken, I...” She glanced around at the soldiers. “Leave us.”
The soldiers hesitated. They could not disobey. But they could not abandon her, either. They did not know what to do.
“Wait for me... over there,” she snapped, pointing to the end of the hallway.
With a great shuffle of armor and weaponry, the soldiers obeyed her. Arken watched them go with an amused expression.
“Arken, when you left here so suddenly, on that day... you never gave me a chance to explain myself.”
“What must you explain? You chose to marry another man. Quite... ‘suddenly.’” The fake smirk, the feigned amusement, vanished completely. His lips curled with a snarl. “Whatever you would say to me, I don’t wish to hear it.”
“But you must. I...” Her palms were sweating again. She rubbed them against the fabric of her dress, to no avail. “I did what I thought what was best for the kingdom. I wanted to marry you. But to do that would have been selfish, especially when I realized the repercussions. If I had abandoned the throne without warning, the castle would have fallen into chaos. Relationships between the Houses were so heated, I feared a civil war.”
“I see. Marrying me would have been selfish?” He snorted, a sound that reverberated from one end of the hall to the other. “Gods forbid you do something selfish! I don’t suppose choosing the crown over love is selfish at all? Nor the assumption that you must sit on the throne or the kingdom will fall to ruin? Naturally, you did what you had to—for the kingdom.”
“You know that it’s true, Arken! Our actions could have had dire consequences.”
“But that’s not the full truth, now is it?” His eyes narrowed on her, and she felt as if they pierced her to the core. “If you really worried so much about the consequences, you would have spoken to the Royal Duma about marrying me long before your scheduled wedding with Lord Gerald.” He stepped closer to her, his gaze crushing her as surely as a boot upon her throat. “If we had proceeded more carefully, we might have gained everyone’s approval. So if you cared so much about that, why didn’t you try? Why did you not announce our intentions sooner?”
Nadia opened her mouth, but no words came out. She realized that for better or worse, Arken sensed the truth. He knew that she had loved him. But despite her love for him, she had never believed he could rule as Grand Prince without causing trouble. She worried that he would always want more power—that his inheritance as a Jeridar would get the best of him. And that even if married to the monarch, his power would fail to satisfy the greed in his bloodstream.
“You misjudged me,” he hissed, his breath blowing the red curls from her face. “You thought I cared only about the crown. You were wrong. But not nearly so wrong as I was about you.”
He pulled back, just a little, but she still felt as if he had smashed her to powder against the floor of the hallway. She felt tiny and small, unable to argue, helpless against his accusations.
“May I pass now, my queen?” His voice dripped with derision. “Or must you explain yourself further?”
“I...” She took another deep, shuddering breath. She stared into the floor, finding that her courage increased the longer she avoided his gaze. “I think that you should not go on this ride with Vivian,” she said at last. “I think that if you obtain the key—more specifically, if your family obtains the key—then the consequences will be dire.”
“That’s not really my concern, is it?” She glimpsed a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Such concerns are for the people with crowns. So why should I worry?”
“Arken. I am begging you...”
“Beg all you’d like, Nadia.” This time, a true hint of joy rang upon his voice, and it chilled her to the bone. “But the more you beg, the more you will assure me of my purpose. For I wish you to understand what it feels like to want only one thing in this world—to want it with every fiber of your being—only to have it denied you.”
And then, without waiting for permission, he swept past her.
For a moment, the soldiers grabbed their weapons. Even from afar, they sensed the queen’s distress. But she shook her head, and they let Arken pass.
She had found the strength to deny him, once. But perhaps that strength had broken, just as surely as his devotion.
CHAPTER 4
Wilderhorse
As soon as he turned the corner and left the queen’s vision, Arken stopped to recompose himself. His whole body trembled. The pounding of his blood roared in his ears. But he hoped that he had hidden such emotions well enough for Nadia not to notice. He hoped that he had appeared completely calm and collected, undisturbed by her presence. For if she had any idea what power she still held over him...
“Are you all right?”
Arken turned with a start to see Vivian standing beside him. Her presence surprised him, for he had never sensed her approach. Had she been there the whole time? But he could not feel disturbed for long, because she looked so very pretty. In truth she wore an outfit almost identical to what she wore yesterday. But somehow she still looked ready to go riding; she had a way of looking ready for anything.
“I’m... I’m fine.” He started to keep walking, but she reached out and caught his arm. Her grip carried surprising strength, and yanked him to a stop.
“Was that the queen back there?” asked Vivian. “I heard you two talking. Well, I didn’t hear what you said to each other. I just heard... you know... angry voices.”
He tugged his arm free of her. “She doesn’t want me to get the key from you,” he snapped. “Is that a surprise?”
“Well, no. It just sounded like... something else was going on.”
“It’s none of your concern.” He straightened the folds of his shirt and tried to smooth his composure in the meantime. “Now. Shall we go to the stables?”
He started walking, and she followed. But for a time, a tense silence lingered between them.
“I asked around about you,” burst Vivian at last. “I know you and Nadia almost got married.”
He turned to face her. Vivian shrank against the wall. “And why does that matter?”
“I was just... just... curious!” She fingered a little contraption on her belt, which Arken eyed warily.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, just a little something I made.” She pulled it out and held it up for him to see. It looked like a tiny wooden pipe, with holes in it, like a flute, but so small she could enclose it with her fist. “I call it a Wolven whistle.”
“A Wolven whistle?” He took a step back.
“Yes, well, I didn’t want Xavier to be... you know... looming around all day. He has a way of ruining the mood, you know? But I figured I should have a way of calling him. So I made this.” She put it to her lips and blew.
Arken didn’t hear anything but the swish of her breath. And yet a few seconds later, Xavier stepped up behind him. Arken couldn’t restrain a jolt of surprise.
“Something wrong?” grumbled Xavier.
“No, jus
t testing it.” Vivian giggled with delight. “And it worked!”
Xavier rolled his eyes, then walked away again.
“Isn’t that great?” Vivian kept laughing, even though the Wolven could probably still hear her. “We can’t hear it, but he can. The sound drives him crazy, though.”
“Impressive,” said Arken.
Vivian studied Arken curiously. “You really mean that, don’t you? You’re not scared of him. I mean, of course you’re a little scared. But not like everyone else is.”
Arken shrugged. “I have no intention of taking that key without permission. So he is not my enemy. Just as I am not yours.”
He offered his arm, and she took it. “Yes,” she said, and winked. “I think you’re right about that.”
*
Vivian wanted to ride the wilderhorse immediately, but Arken insisted that she pick a normal horse from the stables first. House Jeridar possessed a lot of fine horses, most of them of Arken’s choosing. But Vivian pouted as she took the reins of a very large Kresdil. It was a tremendously big beast, built for hard labor. Its body possessed a much thicker frame than a wilderhorse, and long fur grew all around its hooves as if it wore skirts of fur beneath each knee. Arken thought the Kresdil was a magnificent animal, but Vivian refused to be impressed.
When he climbed onto the saddle with her, she made a sound of shocked indignation. “You didn’t say we’d ride the same horse together!” But her tone was warm with flirtation, and she leaned back against him, until their proximity made him truly uncomfortable.
“I don’t keep the wilderhorse in the stables,” he said, goading the horse forward so he could focus on riding instead of the sensation of her body against his. “It would never accept that.”
“Oh. I see.” Her voice rang with wonder.
Arken led them through the side streets of the fortress and out of the Forest Gate. As he left the castle behind them, he thought he saw a dark shape flitting across the edge of his vision, and wondered if it was Xavier. But as he had told Vivian, the Wolven’s presence did not bother him.
To reach the wilderhorse, they needed to ride through almost a mile of savanna to the edge of a small forest. The Kresdil’s large hooves plowed through the yellow grasses, creating a constant thunder of churned earth and weeds around them. Arken had not ridden a Kresdil in a long while, and he forgot how bumpy and ungraceful the beast could be. But Vivian just laughed with delight as they plodded along.
“I think he enjoys crushing grass,” she giggled, and stroked his mane lovingly. “Good boy!”
Arken took a deep breath of the fresh air and closed his eyes as he let his skin soak up the sun. He had only spent one full day in the castle, but he already felt in need of the clean wind, the vast horizon, the sensation of nature and wilderness all around him.
Vivian, though she could not see him, seemed to sense him relaxing. “I’m not sure what to think of you, Arken Jeridar,” she said. “Either your plan is to take me to a clearing and murder me, or you really do have a wilderhorse, and if so then you are full of pleasant surprises.”
He didn’t know what to say. All of a sudden, he tired of playing this game. He just wanted to enjoy the outdoors and take a ride on his wilderhorse. A long silence answered Vivian’s statement.
“So, how did you catch this wilderhorse, if it really exists?”
He smiled at the memory. “A few years ago, when I turned seventeen, I wanted to catch some game in the jungle and prove myself as a man. You probably already know this, but the jungles of Darzia are very dangerous, at least if you don’t know how to survive them. The most innocent-looking plants or bugs can be fatally poisonous. Even the smallest game can be difficult to catch, and incredibly crafty. Many of them will get rid of you by leading you to a larger predator, such as a bear or a tiger. In any case, I just wanted to catch something in the jungle; I didn’t really care what.
“I proceeded with a great deal of caution—perhaps too much caution. I camped outside the jungle and returned one day after the next without any luck. I refused to chase the game far so they could not lead me into a trap. I never ventured into areas where I saw signs of deadly creatures. I survived a long while eating berries and mushrooms I knew to be safe. I found a small stream where I returned every morning for water.
“One day, while I filled my pouch at the stream, I looked up and saw a wilderhorse. There she stood, just... staring at me. I have never seen a creature so beautiful before. I’ll not even try to describe her. When you see her, you’ll understand. I was bewitched. I must have sat at the stream for an hour, just staring at her, while she stared back at me. I knew, somehow, that the wilderhorse had been watching me for a long time, following me from a distance as I tip-toed around the jungle. Perhaps she expected me to die off quickly. Perhaps she grew tired of suffering my presence. And now she had decided to confront me.
“Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, the wilderhorse charged me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. I turned and ran, as any sensible person would do. I dove between narrow trees and dense bushes so that the horse could not follow me. And of course, that nearly killed me. I got stung by a group of poisonous wasps. The wilderhorse left me for dead. And I barely managed to crawl back to my camp before nightfall.
“It took me days to recover. I went through the last of my supplies and ran out of water. I could have walked in the opposite direction to get more; there was a town less than a mile away. But for some reason, I refused. I couldn’t stop thinking about that wilderhorse. For better or worse, I decided that the wilderhorse would be the creature that I captured from that jungle. I wanted her so badly, I would have died if only to possess her for a few minutes of my miserable life. So I crawled back to the stream. I filled my pouch with water. And I found the wilderhorse staring back at me. Once again, neither of us moved for a long while. But I refused to go away. I knew that if the horse charged me, this time I wouldn’t be able to escape. Silently, I challenged her to try. Then she turned and sauntered away.
“This continued for days. I slowly regained my strength and scavenged fresh food. And every single morning, I waited at the stream for the wilderhorse. We stared at each other in silence. But those moments of silence were not meaningless. No; even if neither of us moved, even if nothing appeared to happen, we were fighting, the two of us. It was a battle of the wills. And eventually, I conquered. Finally, one day, I approached her.”
He tugged the reins of the Kresdil.
“What? Why are we stopping?” cried Vivian.
“We’re here,” he said, and nodded to the forest on the edge of the savanna. “We should continue on foot.”
“Oh.” Vivian sounded disappointed. “But I want to hear the rest of the story.”
“You’ve heard enough to get the idea.” He dismounted, then reached up to help her. “I was foolish. I wanted that horse more than life itself. And eventually, I got her.”
“I understand now.” She smiled as she fell down towards him. Instead of stepping into the grass, she leaned in close, wrapping her arms around his back. “What you said about greed. It can take many forms. And not all of them are bad.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes dazzling, her soft lips crinkling as she bunched them together. Arken’s heart raced, his loins ached, and he feared she became all too aware of this as she pressed herself against him. Now she strained up on her toes to bring their mouths closer.
He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. “Stay here,” he said hoarsely. “Silven won’t come out if you’re in sight. I’ll bring her to you.”
“Silven?” Vivian giggled. “That’s the horse’s name?”
He flushed despite himself. When she said it like that, the name sounded silly. “Well, I had to call her something.”
“Silven. I like it.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “But I’m coming with you. If she doesn’t come out, she doesn’t come out.”
He frowned at her. “If you real
ly wish to see a wilderhorse, you’ll do as I say.”
“Arken, you’ve already proven to be more than I expected. Now give me a chance to prove myself back.”
He blinked at her with surprise. Then he nodded, and led her onward.
They walked to the edge of the forest, leaving the Kresdil to roam the grasses behind them. Arken released Vivian’s hand, but still felt her close beside him. To his surprise, he realized he enjoyed her presence. He didn’t know why. He was supposed to be manipulating her, not the other way around. And he wasn’t supposed to enjoy doing it.
“Stop here.”
The trees of the forest loomed before them. This forest did not stretch into a full jungle, at least not anymore. If it had been large once, the developments of Krondolee settlers had gradually reduced its size until it transformed into savanna. In any case, it provided a perfect area for Silven to roam while he stayed at the castle.
He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled.
Birds scattered from the treetops. Leaves and bramble within the forest shook as animals fled from the shrill noise. Arken wished he had a more graceful method of calling Silven to him. But shouting out her name would have been even more embarrassing. In any case, the wilderhorse would come, or she wouldn’t.
They waited a long while. Arken thought he saw a shadow move within the forest in the vague shape of Silven. But it was only his imagination. Disappointment sank into his belly. He had really hoped to show the horse to Vivian and prove the truth of his story. Not only so he might “win” her favor. But also because he now desired her respect.
He sighed with frustration. “I told you. She won’t come out if you’re—”
“Hush.” Vivian reached out and grabbed his arm. Meanwhile, she stared intently into the trees. “I think I see her,” she whispered.
Arken froze as he followed her gaze. Indeed, he thought he saw movement, ever so slight. A whispy gray shape forced the shadows to slip around its body. Then, as silently as the breeze, it stepped into the sunlight.