Pathways (The Kingdom Chronicles Book 1)

by Camille Peters

  Alastar’s already serious expression intensified as he met my gaze. “With my life. He’s a noble man and a wonderful friend, incredibly loyal and caring, even when he chooses to hide those traits. Whether or not you approve of him wanting me to watch over you, I have to do it; our friendship runs too deep for me to risk hurting him, which would happen should any harm befall you.”

  I allowed his words to wash over me before I nodded and slipped inside my room, where I collapsed onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. Even though my head told me it was foolish to hope, my heart ached to give Aiden another chance. The more I analyzed this desire, the more my searing anger began to fade away.

  Chapter 15

  The first task arrived immediately following dinner. I shakily broke the royal seal and unfolded the gilded stationery:

  A princess is a symbol not only of the royal family, but of the kingdom and the people whom she serves. Thus a true princess should be one who showcases the proper etiquette and decorum in all situations with which she is presented.

  My panic escalated, tightening my heart. It was only the first task and I already found myself overwhelmed, for not only was there nothing proper about me, but I had a single night to transform myself from a common girl to the elegant royal they expected.

  After many wrong turns to arrive at my destination before Alastar took pity on me, I spent the evening combing the library shelves for a miracle. A wasted hour crawled by, then two, with little to show for my efforts. An etiquette manual was likely a useless volume to keep in the royal library since princesses were bred from birth for their role, but I refused to give up.

  As the sun sank below the horizon and darkness tumbled through the library windows to smother the shelves in shadows, my failure to bring a candle forced me to abandon my search. It appeared I was now back to the plan of tying my bedsheets together and escaping through my bedroom window.

  “Princess Gemma?”

  I gasped and spun around to see the Princesses of Draceria, their eyes wide with remorse.

  “I beg your pardon, Gemma,” Princess Elodie said. “We didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I pressed my hand to my frantically pounding heart and didn’t answer.

  Princess Elodie stepped forward with a friendly smile. “Are you here to prepare for the first task?”

  I nodded mutely.

  Princess Rheanna’s brow furrowed. “What do you think of it? Personally, I was expecting something a bit more challenging.”

  Of course she’d find it easy. This fact only escalated my panic.

  “I, for one, am not surprised at the task,” Princess Aveline said. “Proper decorum is the foundation for being a queen fit to rule. I hope the tests increase in challenge; I mean to prove myself.”

  This one was challenging enough for me. How could I cram a lifetime of social graces into a single night when I couldn’t even find a guide to aid me? I glanced outside at the disappearing dusk. I was wasting too much time. I began inching towards the door.

  “Where are you going, Gemma?” Princess Elodie asked. “We were hoping to spend the evening with you.”

  I forced myself to smile when, inside, I wanted to cry that they were so confident in their own royal graces that they had time to spend so frivolously. “I want to make sure I’m properly rested for tomorrow.”

  “You’re looking a bit pale. Are you well?”

  Not in the least, not when I was on the brink of fainting. “It’s been a long day. If you’ll excuse me…” And before they could call me back, I scampered from the room.

  The marble hallways seemed entirely transformed by the shadows cast by the glowing lanterns guiding my way. After wasting more precious time taking several wrong turns before Alastar—lips twitching, as if my being lost had been highly amusing—again took pity on me, I finally located my door and with a fierce sigh of relief slipped inside my room.

  For a moment I stood with my back pressed against the door, eyes closed, taking several deep, steadying breaths. I needed a plan, something far better than trying to fake my way through social graces. Yes, the bedsheets would have to do. That decided, I pushed myself away from the door and opened my eyes.

  I screamed, and Aiden slapped his hand over my mouth. “Shh, I don’t want to be found out.”

  From outside my door Alastar called, “Is everything alright, Your Highness?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” I pushed Aiden away, my hands lingering far longer than they should on his firm chest. “What are you doing here? Do you mean to frighten me half to death?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Then why were you lurking in my dark room?”

  “I was waiting for you. I did initially knock.”

  “And since I wasn’t here to invite you in, you took my silence as an invitation to hide in the shadows and wait for me?”

  He crunched the end of his hem and bit his lip. “That was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”

  His obvious remorse softened me, but only slightly. I folded my arms across my chest, fighting to ignore the excited patter of my heart at seeing him again. So much for my grudge. "Aiden, you shouldn't be alone with me in my room."

  His brow furrowed. “Why? I’m here to help you. Don’t worry, Alastar will ensure no one disturbs us.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I seem to recall telling you I didn’t want your help.”

  “I know you said that, but what else are you to do?”

  “The current plan is to use the bedsheets to climb out the window.”

  Aiden gave me an exasperated look. “Like I told you before, even if that worked, there are guards posted at the gates.”

  Oh yes, them. They definitely presented a problem.

  “Besides, need I remind you that your room is on the third floor?”

  I frowned at my bed. As large as it was…“The bedclothes wouldn’t be long enough, would they?”

  “Likely not, which means…” He gave me a rather sweet, hopeful look. “Will you please accept my help now?”

  My frantic breathing slowly subsided, leaving in its wake a swirl of confusing thoughts. Even though I’d pushed him away, Aiden had still returned. He hadn’t abandoned me. “You really want to help me?”

  “I do.” He stepped forward and took my hand. I reluctantly let him. His earnest gaze met mine. “I got you into this, so I won’t leave you to face it alone.”

  In spite of his mistake, he’d returned to atone for it. I desperately wanted to trust him, but one gesture wasn’t enough for me to determine whether or not I could. Despite my reservations, I didn’t pull my hand away.

  “What’s the first task?” he asked.

  I went to my desk to retrieve it. He read it rapidly and rolled his eyes.

  “This is the task chosen by the king?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Not by the prince?”

  “From what I understand, the prince asked for the opportunity of choosing his own wife, but the terms were that the king would determine how the choice was to be made.”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “The Dracerian royalty mentioned the prince isn’t even going to witness the competition until the very end. How can he choose a bride when he has no opportunity to even see his choices? Doesn’t that seem rather strange?”

  Aiden raised an eyebrow. “It does. He likely has his own criteria for choosing his bride. Perhaps he’s already chosen who he wants, and this competition is merely a formality to appease the king and his ridiculous dictates on whom he believes to be suitable.” He waved the paper. “Apparently, all one needs in marital happiness is a proper wife.”

  “He must believe a proper wife is graceful on both the inside and the outside.”

  Aiden snorted. “Not in the least. Etiquette is both a mask and a part one plays. Anyone can learn to do it, and thus it cannot measure one’s true character.”

  I sighed. “It doesn’t matter, for I’m doomed to fail. I searched the entire library for a book on eti
quette and found nothing.”

  “Then I’ll teach you myself. I just so happen to know all the rules.”

  I raised a skeptical brow. “In one night?”

  “It won’t take long, for propriety is common sense once one knows how the game is played. Now, will you allow me to help you?”

  He gave me such an earnest look. I nibbled my lip, deliberating. I seemed to have no other option. “If I say yes, then let me be clear that this changes nothing. I’m still upset that your lies entangled me in all this.” Although admittedly forgiveness was forthcoming.

  His expression crumpled. “I truly am sorry. I just wanted to”—he hesitated for just a moment—“see you again.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He smiled and stepped closer, enveloping me in his comforting warmth.

  “First is posture.” He gently rested his hands on my shoulders. I shuddered at his touch as he pressed his fingers against my back until I straightened. “That’s too straight; relax your shoulders and keep them back. Good. Now lift your chin to keep your head in a natural, upright position.” He hooked his fingers beneath my chin to raise it, his touch lingering to stroke my jaw. “There.” He stepped back with a nod of approval. “See? This isn’t so hard, is it?”

  “Until I start to move.”

  His lips twitched. “Come now, Eileen, don’t be so harsh on yourself. Part of posture is confidence.”

  “How can I be confident when I’m terrified every moment of being caught as an impostor? I’m on the brink of an anxiety attack.”

  He cupped my chin. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I trust no one.”

  He frowned as he dropped his hand. “I hope one day you’ll learn to trust me.”

  “I want to trust you,” I said. “Really I do. But how can I when your lies hurt me so much? You only thought of yourself when you got me involved in this.”

  He flinched, expression tortured, and despite my prickling anger, I felt remorse at his pain. In spite of everything, I still cared about him, more deeply than I wanted to admit.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He was silent for a moment before he raised his gaze to mine with a wry smile. “You only spoke the truth. I’m a selfish person. I always have been, and I need to change. I want to be a man you can always rely on. You deserve nothing less.”

  My heart constricted. How could he say things like that when he was engaged? I searched his eyes. Sincerity filled his gaze, and once again I felt my fierce resolve slacken. I smiled, and when he tentatively offered me his own smile in return, I felt the tension that had festered between us begin to melt away.

  The lesson in decorum continued. From proper posture, we moved to learning to walk with grace and poise, something Aiden seemed perplexed on how to teach. After several minutes of pondering, he gave a helpless shrug.

  “They just seem to glide. I don’t know how they do it.”

  “Small steps?” I attempted my hypothesis. Aiden watched, head tilted.

  “That’s not quite it. Goodness, this is ridiculous. You walk just fine now. Changing it won’t change you, so how would walking gracefully determine your worth?”

  “I doubt the Dark Prince cares about my worth either way,” I said as I experimented walking the circumference of the room with different-sized steps.

  “I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” Aiden said. “Does his title mean he doesn’t desire marital happiness like everyone else?”

  I shrugged. “Is that important to any man?” I knew the assessment was rather unfair, but I couldn’t bring myself to retract my words.

  “It’s important to me.”

  My gaze snapped to his, and for a beautiful moment we stared at one another. I broke our connection first, my cheeks warm. “It’s getting late. Shall we continue?”

  Since Aiden seemed at a loss on how to explain the process of strolling gracefully, he experimented with different walks. I bit my lip to stifle my laughter as Aiden strolled in exaggerated dainty ways around the room, his walk becoming more and more aggressive as his frustration escalated. Soon I couldn’t contain my giggles any longer and they wriggled free, causing him to pause with a chuckle of his own.

  “Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?”

  “You certainly do. I wish you could see yourself.” I laughed again and his smile widened.

  “I love hearing your laugh.”

  “Then keep walking like that. And here I thought you an expert on social graces. You disappoint me, Aiden.”

  “If I were teaching you to walk like a nobleman, I’d have succeeded by now. But I refuse to give up until I’ve fulfilled my promise to you, even if it takes all night.” His eyes flashed with determination and once more warmth seeped over me, causing me to little by little begin to believe him.

  After much more amusing experimenting, Aiden determined that the key to walking gracefully was dainty steps, a straight spine, drawing in the abdomen, and keeping one’s hands naturally at one’s sides while looking directly ahead. He beamed as I practiced.

  “Exactly. I knew I’d figure it out. I’m ready for my accolades.”

  “Why humor you when you’ve already given them to yourself?” I smiled, one of many this evening. With each passing moment with Aiden, not only was I reminded of how much I loved spending time with him, but my terror about tomorrow gradually began to abate. Perhaps I wouldn’t be as much of a disaster as I’d initially feared.

  Aiden picked up a book and rested it on top of my head. “Now to practice. My sister trained by walking with books on her head. The goal is not to let it fall off.”

  “You have a sister? Why isn’t she here offering her expert advice?”

  He smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, she’s not one who likes to extend her assistance.”

  We practiced with a book perched upon my head until I managed to walk around the room without it tumbling off, and then we sat at my vanity with it still in place as I practiced the motions of eating with the correct posture. From there we went over basic table manners and table place settings, the proper volume to keep one’s voice while conversing, and how a proper lady extended her hand to be kissed. Before Aiden could demonstrate on me I yanked my hand away, afraid of what his lips touching my skin would cause me to feel. I immediately regretted doing so when my rejection caused Aiden to wince.

  We ended the evening practicing how to properly curtsy. Every time he curtsied low, I fell backwards onto the settee, clutching my sides as I laughed. Finally, Aiden gave up that particular lesson and joined in.

  When we managed to catch our breath, I rolled onto my side and propped onto my elbow. “Is that the end of the lesson?”

  “It is. You’ll be perfect tomorrow.”

  The anxiety that had previously twisted my insides slowly eased. Perhaps I wouldn’t fail after all.

  “Thank you for your help, Aiden.”

  His gaze seeped into mine. “It was my pleasure.” A strange energy passed between us as we stared at one another. Aiden’s crooked grin broke the spell. “We still have the matter of payment.”

  I groaned. I should have known. “What is it with you and payments? Very well, what would you like? I warn you I haven’t much to offer.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” He thoughtfully pressed his thumb against his pursed lips before his gaze settled on my sketchbook, the corner of which poked out from beneath my mattress where I kept it hidden. “A portrait.”

  “A portrait?”

  He nodded. “Yes. In exchange for your decorum lessons, I’d like a portrait of you.”

  “Of me?”

  He offered a boyish grin. “Please?”

  I nibbled my lip. “I don’t know…”

  His smile faltered. “Does that make you uncomfortable? You don’t have to.”

  I searched his expression, so open and sweet, and I realized in that moment that I’d
not only forgiven him but that I trusted him more than I’d been allowing myself to admit. I retrieved my sketchbook and settled cross-legged on the floor in front of the full length mirror. I started to open the book, but he crouched down and rested his hand on top of mine, stopping me.

  “Really Eileen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  I met his gaze and once again felt turned inside out by the tender way he looked at me. “I want to.”

  “Then might I watch?”

  I nodded breathlessly as I turned to a blank page and selected my pencils, sliding them into my bun for easy access. Aiden sat directly behind me—so close I could feel the heat of his body seeping into my back—and it took all my willpower to resist leaning against his chest.

  I tried to study my reflection but my eyes were repeatedly drawn to Aiden’s, who hovered just above my shoulder. He met my gaze in the mirror and smiled. I swallowed and looked away to study my face with as artistic an eye as I was capable of while so attuned to his closeness.

  I rested my pencil on the page. I’d attempted several self-portraits before, but I could never get them exactly right. “It may not be very good.”

  “Doubting your talent?”

  “No. It’s just that the more I know a person, the more difficult it is to capture their portrait through mere lines on paper. I know myself best of all. How then can I portray all that I am in a drawing?”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. I shuddered at his touch while the instinct to lean against him intensified, as did my efforts to resist the impulse. “I can fill in the missing lines, especially the more I come to know you myself.”

  I rather liked that idea. With this promise, I took a wavering breath and began. I adored this process: beginning with a blank page and then line by line creating shapes that I sculpted to resemble a person. Drawing was similar to the process of coming to know someone; over time, more and more about an individual was revealed, until one had a complete picture.

  I felt as if my relationship with Aiden was a sketch I was creating. Each interaction together drew lines on my heart, and although I still couldn’t see the entire picture, I knew that with time I would…if I kept drawing. And I found that the longer I worked on this picture, the more excited I was to see the finished product.