by Leigh Walker
I’ll write again soon.
Keep up the good work.
Love,
Mom
I folded the letter up and went down to breakfast in a fog, worried about my sister.
“Gwyneth, a word.” I looked up to find Dallas waiting for me in the hall.
I nodded, absentmindedly following him into the library. He closed the door behind us.
He raked a hand through his hair. “This is awkward.”
I looked around, still distracted. “It is?”
“Yes.” He sighed.
“Is this about Tamara?” I asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “I know you have a date with her. But honestly? If you fall in love with her—and all that hair and those glutes and her attitude—we clearly aren’t meant for each other, anyway. So I won’t be mad, just disappointed in your taste.”
He laughed or coughed; I couldn’t be sure. “Good to see that you’re back to being your honest self, but that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s about the letter.”
“The letter from my mother?”
“Yes, which is why this is awkward. I know Tariq informed you all, but palace security reads and reviews all incoming and outgoing correspondence.”
“Yes.” I was aware of the policy.
“I’d told the staff that I had a…special interest…in your letters.” Clearly embarrassed, his words tumbled out on top of each other.
“Dallas, are you blushing?” I didn’t know vampires could.
“No.” He swiped his big hand through his hair. “Maybe. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. First thing during my early morning meeting, I was alerted to the fact that your sister had taken ill. I took the liberty of sending some of our medical staff to care for her. I wanted you to know. I hope you won’t be upset.”
“Why would I be upset?”
“Because I meddled like an old lady. I read your letter without your knowledge. And then without even asking you, I contacted your family and sent my staff to your home.” He stood stock still, fists clenched, waiting to be judged.
I ran to him.
I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his broad chest. “Thank you.” The words came out muffled. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He tentatively put his hands on my back. “You’re welcome. I thought you might be angry with me for violating your privacy.”
“I couldn’t care less.” I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “My brother and sister mean everything to me—that’s what I care about. I was so upset when I read the letter. I didn’t know what to do.”
“The doctor I sent is fantastic. She’ll take good care of your sister.” Dallas nodded. “I’ll let you know how she is as soon as I have word.”
“Thank you, Dallas. I will never be able to say that enough.” I hugged him again, and he gently hugged me back, putting his face against my hair.
“I have to go.” He reluctantly released me.
I felt cold without him. “I know. You have a date with Tamara.”
His face twisted. “If you weren’t angry at me about reading the letter, you’re sure to be mad at me about that.”
I straightened myself. “No, I understand you have things to do. You’re a diplomat, after all.”
“With the monarchy, I’m actually more of an autocrat, I’m afraid. But yes, things to do…”
I lifted my chin. “In any event, date you must. I’ll be fine. Tariq has promised us time in the stables today, so I’ll have Maeve to comfort me while you’re off on your…adventure.”
“Thank you for understanding.” His gaze burned into me.
I gave him one last look as I headed to the door. “You’re helping me keep my family together. It’s the least I can do.”
“Gwyneth.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be thinking of you.”
My heart did another tricky somersault. “And I, you.”
Blushing furiously, I headed down the hall.
“Do you know what they’re doing on their date?” Shaye carefully brushed her mare’s black coat.
“I don’t. If Tamara has her way, it’ll be skinny-dipping.”
Shaye shuddered. “She wouldn’t.”
I scoffed as I brushed Maeve’s coat to a glossy sheen. “Of course she would!”
Maeve whinnied, and I clucked my tongue, soothing her. “There, there, we all know Tamara’s a prat. But the prince has to date her. Yes he does.”
Shaye giggled. “You’re handling this better than I thought. You two seemed like you were going to come to blows yesterday.”
“I shouldn’t let her get under my skin, but ugh. She’s the master.”
“She’s a pro, all right.”
I started working carefully on Maeve’s mane. “She didn’t mean what she said yesterday about you. About not winning.”
Shaye shrugged. “Yes, she did.”
“She’s wrong, though. I think being nice is an advantage. It beats being a self-obsessed showoff.”
“I don’t know. She’s the one on the second date.” Shaye wrinkled her nose. “We’ll see if I even get one.”
“Of course you will.” No matter what, Shaye was my friend. I wanted her to do well, even if it was directly opposed to my own interests.
Shaye patted her horse. “It’s so nice that we get to come out here. The horses are beautiful.”
I nodded. “It’s a good change of pace, I think. Better than tripping around in heels and counting fork tines.”
“Not to eavesdrop, but speaking of forks.” Blake stuck her head into our stall. “I heard we’re having turkey tonight.”
“A roast turkey?”
Blake nodded, eyes shining. “The kitchen maids told me. There’s going to be cornbread stuffing and cranberry relish—all the trimmings.”
“Oh, I can’t wait.” I clutched my stomach. “I’ll have to skip cheese and crackers this afternoon, so I can have seconds.”
“Or thirds.” Shaye smiled.
“And dessert.” Blake grinned.
“Come in here and help us, will you?” I grabbed a rake to spread fresh hay around the stall.
“My pleasure.” Blake grabbed a rake and jumped right in.
“Have you had a date with the prince yet?” Shaye asked her.
“Nah. He just doesn’t seem into me. I don’t know why he kept me around.”
“Um, maybe because you’re tall and gorgeous?” Shaye eyed Blake, who was indeed almost six-feet tall, with long, willowy limbs. Her thick, golden hair cascaded down her back.
“Thanks.” Blake shrugged. “I dunno. He doesn’t ever seem to be looking in my direction, but I’m so excited I wasn’t cut. I’m in no rush to go home.”
“What’s Fifteen like?” I asked.
She shrugged again, but her easygoing manner seemed to dissipate a bit. “It’s pretty depressing, actually. We’ve been struggling since the war. I have three siblings, and my dad’s been sick. He’s gone downhill in the past couple of years. I think it’s because of the stress and honestly, poor nutrition.”
Shaye frowned as she spread hay. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. I still have my dad. I know a lot of the girls here don’t.”
“Like both of us.” I pointed to Shaye and me. “Our fathers and older brothers went to fight and never came back.”
Blake shook her head. “That’s terrible.”
“But maybe they’re still alive.” I raked with renewed vigor. “You never know.”
“Right.” Blake smiled at me. “I hope so. Anyway, anybody want to bet on Tamara’s date with the prince? I have three chocolate croissants that say she either kisses him or somehow gets him to carry her at some point. Anyone?”
“Hmm. I’ll see your three chocolate croissants, and I’ll raise you a raspberry scone. And I don’t think he’ll kiss her.” He wouldn’t. I couldn’t picture it.
I thought for a moment. “She might have him carry her, though. He would do that if
she needed help. Good call.”
“I like raspberry scones, so I’ll take the bet on the kissing.” Blake shrugged. “Works for me. We have a deal.”
I chuckled and spread more hay. Although I knew I would also want to smack her, part of me couldn’t wait to hear how Tamara’s date went.
Chapter 9
A Bit Of A Stiff
Tamara swept into the common room at dinner, head held high, and I inspected her carefully for any signs of kissing. But of course, she simply looked flawless, not a smudge of makeup out of place. I hoped to be the proud owner of three plump chocolate croissants before the night was over.
She ignored the other girls’ curious stares. She would make them wait to hear about her time with the prince, whipping them into a frenzy. She came directly to our table, settling in next to Shaye. “Ladies, I have an announcement.”
Blake leaned over from her nearby table, all the better to eavesdrop.
“The prince kissed me.”
I cursed under my breath while Blake pumped her fist.
“So now Shaye and I are obviously holding the top two spots in this competition.” Tamara smiled sweetly at Shaye. “I’m in first, of course.”
Shaye tried not to choke on her turkey. “Of course.”
“Tell us everything,” I encouraged.
I needed details. The prince was going to get a bloody earful from me before I never spoke to him again.
Tamara shrugged. “Well to start with, he’s quite boring.”
Shaye almost choked again, but I kept my face neutral. I had to hear this.
“We played chess, of all things. I was hoping for something a little more athletic, so I could flaunt my…skills…but he wanted to play chess so we did. Because he’s the prince.”
Tamara stabbed a forkful of almond green beans. “I let him win the first time, of course—because again, he’s the prince. But then his eyes glazed over, and he started to look a bit put out, so I decided to make it more interesting.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I made him a bet.”
“Ooh, do tell. I love a good bet.” I winked at Blake.
Tamara gave me a funny look. “Since when were you talking to me again, anyway?”
“Since I decided not to kick your ass yesterday, and I’m sort of stuck with you for the next four weeks. Plus, I’m nosy,” I reminded her.
“Whatever. And for the record, I would’ve kicked your ass.” She shrugged, but unable to keep herself from bragging about her date, continued. “I bet him that if I lost, I had to do whatever he wanted, even if it was playing basketball. Or even playing more chess. But if I won, he had to do whatever I wanted.”
Shaye arched her eyebrows, as if to ask, Skinny dipping?
Tamara tossed her hair over her shoulder. “So I’m actually quite good at chess, but he didn’t know that because I’d fumbled through our first game on purpose. So I let him think he was winning for the first half, but then I snuck back and beat him quite handily.”
“And what did you choose as your prize?” Shaye asked.
Tamara glowed with triumph. “I asked him to kiss me. That’s what I wanted.”
I cursed again, wondering if I really had to give up that scone. He’d kissed her under duress. Then I remembered I should be relieved, not pissed about handing over my baked goods.
“So?” Shaye asked. “How was it?”
“He was a little uncomfortable at first—like I said, he’s a bit stiff.” Tamara sat up straighter. “But when he finally put his lips to mine, let’s just say ladies, he got a lot less boring.”
“So you enjoyed it?” I asked.
She fanned herself. “You have seen the prince, haven’t you?”
“Of course. But you said he was dull.”
“Until we kissed,” Tamara corrected me. “Chest is much more interesting than chess.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. She’d literally rendered me speechless.
“Anyway, try not to be too jealous when you see the episode. He got a bit handsy.” She popped a piece of turkey into her mouth. “Yum. How juicy. Just like His Highness.”
This time, Shaye actually started to choke, so Blake whacked her on the back.
And I just sat there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
“Miss. Miss,” Evangeline whispered urgently. “Wake up.”
I groggily opened my eyes. It was still dark in my room.
“What’s the matter? Is it the rebels? Is it my sister?”
“Everything’s okay.” Evangeline bustled about a bit breathlessly, laying out clothes and packing a bag. “But His Highness sent word that your sister has taken a turn for the worse. I’m so sorry, miss. But the doctor said you should come home and see her.”
My eyes welled with tears. “Is she dying?”
Evangeline rushed over and hugged me. “They didn’t say that. Take heart. But the prince wanted you to be able to see her.”
“O-Okay.” I dressed quickly, my mind going a million miles a minute, accomplishing nothing but worry.
Once we’d hastily assembled an overnight bag, I hugged Evangeline one more time then hustled down the stairs. Two guards waited for me, bowing when I reached the foyer. “Miss. We’re to take you to Settlement Four. We’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“T-Thank you.” My whole body thrummed with adrenaline.
“Wait.” Boots clacked against the stones behind us, and Dallas emerged from the darkness. “I’m coming with you. Take Miss West to the car, I’ll join you in a moment.”
My brain scrambled. A car? None of the settlements had had access to fuel or vehicles since the war. I hadn’t even seen a car in ages.
We headed outside, and I stopped dead in my tracks. “That’s not a car,” I whispered, “that’s a tank.”
One of the guards took my bag and smiled gently. “It’s what they used to call a Sport Utility Vehicle. It’s very good on the back roads.”
I peered inside the cavernous space when he opened the door. The seats were sturdy dark leather. The guards got into the two front seats, and I sat in the back, heart pounding in the darkness.
Dallas opened the door a moment later, climbing in next to me. I was relieved to see him but worried. 4 was hours away.
“Can you really come with me?”
He laced his fingers through mine. “You’re my priority.”
My heart swelled, and my eyes stung.
He ran his thumb along the back of my hand. “I want to be there to help, if you need me. And we’ll come back directly. My father and advisors will simply have to understand.”
“What about Tariq?” The royal emissary would be bent out of shape that his star had left the premises.
“I don’t give a flying fig about Tariq.”
“Thank you for coming.” It meant more to me than I could put into words. “What did the doctor say?”
Even in the car’s dim lighting, I could see his face tighten. “Your sister’s not responding to the fluids they’re giving her. The fever hasn’t broken.”
I scrunched my eyes shut, hoping to stop the flow of tears. Instead, they spilled over, streaking my cheeks. “O-Okay. Maybe she’ll get better, though. Maybe the medicine will start to work.”
“Oh, Gwyneth. I hope so.”
“I’m just so happy I get to go see her, the poor thing. She’s only seven.”
I lost it. My shoulders shook with sobs, and Dallas put his arm around me, pulling me close. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe him so badly.
Chapter 10
Fever Pitch
I couldn’t sleep. Dallas and I sat next to each other, hands entwined, staring out our respective windows, lost in our own thoughts. At one point, the guards pulled over to refuel the vehicle. “Do you want to stretch your legs?” Dallas asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk, and I didn’t want to move. All I want
ed was to see Winifred.
If she died… If I lost her…
I banished the thoughts from my head. I’d be no use to my family if I arrived a sobbing, blathering mess. I’d finally cleaned myself up and pulled myself together. I refused to start crying again. I might not stop.
Dallas kept his arm around me, and I rested against his chest. I took so much comfort in his presence—his warmth, his scent, his big arm around my shoulder. I nestled against him, feeling safe and protected, even as my nerves thrummed.
Finally, as the sun broke over the horizon, we crossed into Settlement 4. Hours north from the palace, winter’s mark was still heavy on the landscape. The grass sparkled, covered in frost, and the trees were bare. I shivered, looking at my home district. How was my family surviving without me? Did they have enough wood? Had the house gotten too cold, and was that why Winifred had gotten sick? I sat up straighter, throat tightening and body shaking with adrenaline as we headed to the downtown district. Dallas stared out the window with interest, his dark gaze taking in every detail.
“Have you been here before? To Settlement Four?”
“No.” His face twisted. “My father’s made it a priority to keep me out of the settlements. He doesn’t think it’s safe. But now that I see what’s out here, I think maybe there was another reason.” His brow furrowed as he saw some homeless people, huddled together under a bridge.
“Are you safe here?”
Dallas chuckled without humor. “I’m quite safe. I’ll explain that to you at some point, but for now, do not concern yourself with me.”
I nodded, all jittery. I gave the driver directions, and we pulled into my neighborhood. Formerly quite posh, the townhouses had fallen into disrepair since the war. I was quite shocked to see royal sentinels lining the streets, all standing at attention. A full guard was assembled outside my house.
“Your physician travels with security?” I asked Dallas.
His full, luscious lips set in a grim line. “They’re for me.”