by M. Lynn
A deer dipped its head to drink.
“Quiet,” Dell whispered.
Helena had only ever seen deer in storybooks, but here she was in front of one.
Sensing their presence, the animal snapped its head up, wide brown eyes meeting theirs seconds before it dashed into the trees with a crash of branches.
Dell nudged the horse forward until he stepped into the water. Helena held her breath, hoping it was really as shallow as Dell believed.
She released it when they made it to the other side only to be greeted by a wall of moss-covered rock.
She scanned the impediment where it loomed over them, her shoulders deflating.
Dell, showing no signs of disappointment that he’d led them the wrong way, slid from the horse. He winced as his feet hit the ground.
“Dell.” Helena tried to slide down as he had, but her foot got stuck in the stirrup sending her twisting and tumbling to the ground. The impact sent a jarring force through her. Her foot still in the stirrup, it hung above the rest of her body.
The horse stepped away from her, dragging her slowly.
Dell jumped forward and wrestled her foot free. “You okay?” He bit back a laugh.
Helena rolled to her feet and scanned her body for any sign of blood. “You wouldn’t be laughing if I’d died.”
“You’re right.”
He grinned.
“Stop it.”
“No.”
“Dell.”
“Len.”
She punched his arm, and all joking faded from his face as pain invaded his eyes.
“Dell, you need to sit down.” She touched his back as gently as she could. “Come on. Then we can find our way back to the city.”
“We’re not going back before you lay eyes on the sea.”
“It’s okay to admit you led us astray.”
“Oh, I led us astray, did I?” He shook his head and reached for the horse’s reins. “Horse-Ian has to stay here.”
She raised an eyebrow at the name. She’d never met anyone like Dell before.
Dell finished tying Horse-Ian to a tree before skimming a hand along the stones. Len followed him until they came upon an opening, barely wide enough to fit through. Dell squeezed himself into it without hesitation. “Come on!”
Helena wedged herself in, the rough rocks scraping her arms as she slid along the narrow gap.
By the time she burst free, her shirt had come untucked and hung down to her knees. Wisps of hair fell wildly about her face.
Her eyes fixed on Dell, his blonde hair unkempt and the bronze skin of his face mottled with bruises. Even so, he was handsome.
Her eyes followed his line of sight as she heard the crash of waves upon the rocky shore.
Pebbles shifted underneath her feet as she made her way to Dell’s side.
“Dell,” she whispered. “This is…”
“I know.”
Sharp crags framed the cove on three sides with the ocean as the fourth.
Helena gazed out at the sun-dappled water as it rose and fell. The faint outline of ships marked the horizon. It was a busy trading zone.
She breathed in, imagining she could see all the way to Bela and the adventure awaiting her there. An adventure of magic and honor she’d never experience.
Instead, council meetings and palace dinners would make up the rest of her life.
“Have you ever thought of leaving?” she asked. “Of boarding one of your family’s ships and going to Gaule or Bela or even Dracon?”
“Every day of my life.” He sighed and took off toward the water, stumbling as he lowered himself to sit in the black sand beyond the pebbles. He shrugged off the cloak, revealing a torso striped with cuts and bruises. With a groan, he lay back.
Helena ran forward and dropped to her knees at his side. “Dell.”
“I’m okay,” he grumbled.
“Like hell you are.” Helena chewed on her lip. Her mother had taught her many things, but Sophia always demanded she stop at healer duties. A princess shouldn’t have to use her hands in such a way. What would Sophia have said if she knew of the knife skills?
“I’m just tired.” Dell’s eyes slid shut.
“No, Dell Tenyson. Do not fall asleep on me. Wake up, you idiot. What were you thinking riding all the way across the city just to show me the sea? I didn’t need to see it. Not when you needed a healer.”
A tear tracked down her cheek. What had they done?
“Don’t call me that,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Dell Tenyson. I’m not one of them.”
“Fine. Tell me what I need to do for your wounds.”
“Clean… they need cleaned.”
He must have meant his cuts. Helena took the discarded cloak and turned to soak it in the water. She held it above Dell to let the water drip into his first gash before wiping it.
A scream escaped his throat, and Helena froze.
“Dell, Dell are you okay. What’s wrong?”
“Salt water,” he croaked. “Burns.”
“Big baby,” she muttered, wishing Corban was with them. She didn’t understand his healing magic, but she’d seen enough to believe in it.
Dell’s voice cut off as he stilled, the only movement coming from his rising and falling chest.
Helena sat back on her heels. “Great.” She shook her head and continued cleaning Dell up.
There she was, the princess of Madra, alone, save for an unconscious boy she barely knew, watching the birds fly over the lonely sea. All she could think was how much she didn’t want to go back.
Chapter Thirteen
Something warm struck Dell’s face, waking him from a half-slumber. A bird cawed overhead, but all he heard was the soft laughter coming from nearby.
He breathed in the salty air, lost in the sound.
Wait, salty air? Where was he?
He slid his eyes open slowly, the waning evening sun striking his eyes.
The events of the day came back to him. The Madran games. Fighting Orlo. Len.
He bolted up, hating himself the minute he did as pain ripped through his side.
Len’s laughter cut off. “Hey.” She approached him with a tentative hand out in front of her. “You should really lie back down.”
His eyes found her olive-toned face framed in wild dark curls and his breathing evened.
She bit her fist to muffle another laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s just… a bird used your face as a latrine.”
The warmth he’d felt before slid down the side of his cheek. He wiped the back of his hand across his skin. “Ugh, gross.”
“I don’t know. I thought it rather improved the look.”
He shook his head. “Do you make fun of the prince this way?” As soon as they were out, he regretted his words.
Len’s expression shut down, ice entering her gaze. “Maybe if you used your brain instead of your fists for one moment, you’d see not all of us fit into the image you have of Madra. Maybe I’m not the woman you think I am.” Panic flashed across her face as if she’d said something she shouldn’t. “I just mean… don’t judge what you don’t understand.”
She rose and turned her back on him.
Dell leaned on his elbows. He had a habit of saying the wrong thing and pissing people off. But he didn’t want to do that with this girl. Mistress of the prince or not, she intrigued him. If she’d tied herself to the Rhodipus’, she must have a reason.
Wasn’t he tied to them now as well? Thanks to Edmund and Ian, he now had to choose a side. He was either with his family who had never been kind to him, or he was with Edmund who’d been nothing but.
He pushed himself up, ignoring every ache inside and crossing the inky black sand. Len stood with her oversized trousers dragging in the water as she knelt down.
“You’re right,” he said.
She straightened, raising an eyebrow. “I’m what?”
“You know what I said.”
“I do. I just
enjoy hearing it is all.”
“You frustrate me.”
A grin spread slowly across her face, and it was as if it lit up the entire world. “Good.”
“Good?”
She nodded. “I sort of destroyed everything for you today. If I didn’t frustrate you, then I’d think you were insane.”
“Why are you still smiling then?”
“Maybe I am insane.”
He finally laughed. “Probably.”
She punched his arm. He flinched, and she covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think.”
“S’okay.” He wheezed, his eyes scanning her until he caught a flash of metal in her hand. His brows rose. “Planning to kill me now, are you? And with my own whittling knife? That’s harsh.”
“Whittling… what?” Her eyes flicked to the knife in her hand.
“Whittling knife.” She must have taken it from one of the pockets hidden in his pants. He never went anywhere without it. If the referees had known he had a knife during the fight this morning, he’d have been disqualified. He reached into the other pocket where he always kept his current project. Carving calmed him, but he’d never wanted to share it with anyone before. Len sort of forced it upon him, but he found he didn’t mind.
Her eyes widened when she took in the small wooden angel in his palm. She touched it gently.
“It’s beautiful.”
Pride bloomed in his chest. “My mother taught me.”
“Lady Tenyson can do this?” She picked up the angel, examining every curve.
A harsh laugh vibrated in the air as Dell thought of his overbearing stepmother doing something so delicate. “No. My mother. We lived in a mountain village when I was younger. I didn’t come to the city until she…”
Len set the angel back in his palm and folded his fingers over it. Her eyes met his gaze as his heart thundered against his ribs. Her brow furrowed as if she was trying to figure him out.
“Dell,” she whispered his name as a prayer. “I’m trying to figure out how the mottled and bruised fighter I first saw in the streets of Madra can make something so… beautiful.”
The edges of his mouth tipped up. “You thought I was a wooden-headed boxer like so many of the highborn lads in this town.”
“I don’t really know what I thought.”
“You know what I think?” The distance between them had somehow vanished.
Her breathy “no” warmed his face.
“We should probably get back to the city before dark.”
“Please.” Desperation tinged her voice as she pulled away, snapping back to reality at his words. “Just a bit longer.”
It struck him then. She didn’t want to go back. This wasn’t only about what happened at the games. Something in the palace stole the joy from her eyes.
Their moment was forgotten as his jaw tightened. “Are they forcing you to be there? To—”
“No.” She touched his hand. “No. Nothing like that. I just… I can’t explain it. I want to stay here with you.”
He didn’t believe her, but what could he do? Storm the palace and demand the prince fight him? He’d lose, of course. And then where would Len be?
“What did you mean you destroyed everything for me today?” he asked.
Len crossed her arms over her chest and walked up the sandy beach away from him. He followed her to where sand turned to rock.
She reached the base of the cliff and slid down to sit, leaning against the rock wall. Dell joined her.
Her thumbs tapped against each other as she drew her knees in. “You’re a Tenyson, Dell. I didn’t know that before. But now I see it. And you chose me over your brother.”
Dell laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about? As far as I’m concerned, Ian is nothing to me.”
“You absconded with the…” She stopped herself.
His brow furrowed. “With the what?”
She sighed. “With the prince’s mistress. That won’t be looked upon kindly. I don’t think you understand what is probably happening in the city right now. The Madran games have likely shut down early. The palace guard is probably combing the streets. They’ll venture out from the city soon. Then they’ll travel toward the nearby villages.”
None of it made sense. Why would the royal guard search for a mistress? Kings and princes had many. Estevan Rhodipus had never been linked to any before Len, but… the truth smacked him in the face as if a wave rose from the sea to drag him under.
“You’re not just a mistress, are you?” It was so obvious now. How could he not have seen it? Estevan had retrieved her from Mari’s himself. Not Edmund or some guard, the prince.
Len opened her mouth, but no words came forth as she grappled for truth.
He stood and paced in front of her, each step bringing a new pain, not all of them physical.
Why did he feel so betrayed? He had no right to anything from Len.
She stood, dusting off the butt of her trousers. “Dell, you’re right.”
He could have made a joke of that as she had, but his mind spun with the new knowledge.
“I’m—”
The words exploded from him. “In love with the prince? Yeah, I figured it out.”
“That’s…”
He put his hands on his head and breathed through the pain. Then why wasn’t she dying to run right back into his arms? No, he hadn’t been right at all. He faced her. “No, the prince is in love with you.”
A laugh broke free of her. He didn’t understand what was so funny.
He gripped her arm, meeting her gaze. “Is he forcing you to stay?” Tradition said Estevan Rhodipus had to marry someone from one of the other five kingdoms. And in Madra, tradition was law. The priests would make sure he adhered to what had always been done.
No matter what he felt, the heir would marry the Gaulean princess.
Len lowered her gaze. “I want to tell you something.”
He dropped her arm. “I’ve heard enough. That bastard is making you stay with him while he marries another. You need not explain anything else. I see it all. The disguises you used to get out of the palace and away from the situation. Your desire to spend more time in the freedom we have without the watchful eye of the prince. If I didn’t already hate the Rhodipus line, this would push me farther down that road.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “You’re against the royal family? All of them?”
He sighed. “The young prince and queen seem okay. But Len, the king and his family have led us into ruin. The people of Madra starve while he plans balls.”
“Tradition says the princess has to have a ball to choose a husband before her mask is removed.”
“Screw tradition.”
She gasped. “You don’t mean that. Tradition built Madra into what it is.”
“A war-mongering nation? I’m sorry, Len, but Madra is no great kingdom. The king cares nothing for the people and Estevan is no better. The bastard princes are rarely even on Madran soil. We know nothing about the princess. Why is she kept from us? It’s not right. She will be head of the merchant council and the merchants are driving the wedge between the classes even deeper. Our freedoms fall down around us, and she sits in her palace obeying priests and learning how to take more food from children’s mouths to give the merchants.”
No tears clouded Len’s eyes any longer as they hardened. “Says the merchant’s son.”
“You know nothing about me.” He turned and walked down the beach.
“And you know so much about me?” she yelled at his back. “I’ve changed my mind. Take me back to the palace.”
“With pleasure.”
Darkness blanketed the world by the time Dell and Len rode back through the city streets.
“Take me to Edmund’s,” Len said.
They were the first words she’d spoken since they left the beach. The brief moment of peace they’d experienced didn’t exist in either of their lives.
“If you take me to the palace, they
’re likely to arrest you.”
He grunted. “I don’t need you to explain it to me.”
“Sorry.”
He scratched the side of his face. “No, it’s okay. I’m just…”
“Yeah, me too. Look Dell, I think today was a mistake. We shouldn’t have run. Both of us have lives here in Madra that we need to get on with. I don’t think I’m going to see you again.”
He wanted to tell her different, but he couldn’t. She was right. They couldn’t seek each other out. But how was he supposed to forget about a girl who made every pain in his life disappear?
A girl whose stubbornness drove him. A girl he…
No. She wasn’t his. He had no claim and never would.
They didn’t find royal guardsman in the streets but the signs they’d been there were everywhere. Overturned crates, rotten food scattered across the road, horse droppings.
Horse-Ian snorted as Dell tugged on the reins, turning them toward ambassador row.
When they stopped near Edmund’s gate, it opened quickly.
A frazzled Edmund froze, his eyes widening. “Len.” He rushed forward to help her down from the horse. “We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
“Edmund.” Her voice softened. “I’m okay. I needed to get out of there.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you understand how much trouble you’re in. The king—”
“Not here, Edmund.”
He looked up at Dell as if seeing him for the first time. “Len, get inside. I’m going to have a word with Dell.”
She shot him one last apprehensive look before disappearing into his house.
“Dell Tenyson.”
Dell had never heard such anger in Edmund’s tone. He held his hands in front of his chest. “Look, I’m sorry. I was just helping her get away from Ian.”
Edmund swallowed hard, evening his breath. “I know you do not understand what really happened today, so I’m going to explain something to you.”
“I know everything,” Dell stated.
“No, you don’t. Listen to me, Dell. That girl is special. I’m not going to explain how much to you because Madran tradition must even guide a Belaen man inside this city.”