Forest of Firelight

by Shari L. Tapscott

  “Shall I check your stitches?”

  After I agree, he unwinds the bandage. It’s bright with fresh blood, and I wince as the fabric sticks to the newly opened wound. I must have torn the stitches while I was fighting with the bandit.

  Kent makes a disappointed noise. “I’m sorry, Amalia, we’re going to have to stitch it again.”

  I’m not used to people calling me by my name. Even Rhys has only said it once, maybe twice. It sounds nice when Kent says it—warm, familiar.

  “That’s all right,” I say. “I don’t mind.”

  “Do you want me to fetch Rhys before we begin?”

  I wince, thinking of how incredibly uncomfortable our next meeting is going to be. “No, that’s all right.”

  Picking up on my tone, Kent looks at me sharply. “Did something happen?”

  “Not exactly. I said something I wish I hadn’t, and now I’m afraid things will be tense between us.”

  The doctor presses his lips together, looking as though he doesn’t know how to answer, and then he drops my hand. “We’ll take care of it here. I’ll return with my bag.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we sit at the table, our knees touching. Kent methodically goes through his steps, cleaning the wound, applying the numbing balm. He doesn’t say much, and I can’t think of a subject to discuss.

  We’ve closed the door, which feels strange. We didn’t discuss it, and we were both a little uncomfortable when I pressed it shut—but it’s not worth getting caught by his sister just for the sake of appearances.

  As Kent begins stitching, he asks, “Why are you traveling to Saulette?”

  “Braeton stayed there. I received a letter from him after we heard word that he…died.” I still choke up when I say it aloud. I clear my throat and continue, “It was a beautiful gift. He told me about all the wonderful things he’d seen and tried. I want to go there myself now that I’ve been given the opportunity.”

  The doctor glances up and gives me a smile. “That sounds nice.”

  “You live in Saulette. Are you familiar with the Forest of Firelight?”

  “Mmm,” he agrees. “It’s in the western section of the Calmon Forest, about four days north of the city, not far from Rock Creek.”

  “Have you ever seen it?”

  “Not while it’s in bloom.”

  “Braeton was hoping to catch it. Do you think I’m too late? I’d like to see it for him.” I lower my eyes. “That sounds foolish, doesn’t it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. And I have not seen it. The trees only bloom for a few days in spring, and no one knows exactly when it will be. By the time word reaches us in Saulette, we’ve already missed it.”

  “But it’s possible it still hasn’t happened yet this year?”

  He nods.

  We fall quiet, and Kent finishes his chore. When he’s done, he sits back in his chair. “Try not to tear them this time.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise.

  He pauses by the door before he opens it. “I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

  “What?” I ask.

  The doctor’s cheeks are a bit red, and the tips of his ears are too.

  “To the forest. I’ll travel with you.” He holds up his bag. “You never know when I’ll prove myself useful.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “I thought you were eager to return home?”

  “I am—I was.” The competent, confident man gives me a shrug that almost seems nervous. “But that’s before I found out I might be of service to our kingdom. To my princess.”

  Kent is kind…and empathetic and reliable.

  He’s exactly the sort of man I’m looking for. No, he doesn’t make my stomach flutter and my pulse race. Nor does the thought of kissing him make my knees feel like molten wax.

  But it would be foolish to turn him away. Maybe we met for a reason.

  “All right,” I say, slowly nodding. “If you’re certain?”

  His smile brightens. “I am.”

  Kent then excuses himself and slips into the hall, softly closing the door behind him, leaving me alone once more.

  The ride to Saulette is long and tense.

  Rhys’s men are subdued, making me think they got an earful from their captain. Aeron is especially quiet, to the point it appears as if he’s brooding.

  Tryndon attempts to make conversation several times, but eventually, he gives up on the lot of us and simply hums to himself when the silence becomes too suffocating.

  Rhys won’t even look at me. I knew we left things in an awkward state last night, but I had no idea I offended him. He’s been cold today, aloof—almost as though he thinks he must distance himself because the silly princess is besotted.

  Which is laughable. Who ended up kissing whom, after all? I certainly didn’t instigate it. If anyone is showing signs of becoming too attached, it’s Rhys. He followed me. Saved me repeatedly. Kissed me.

  Infuriating man.

  I should be giving him the cold shoulder. How dare he pin this all on me?

  We ride over the last ridge, and the valley opens below us. Saulette, with its beautiful towers and glittering buildings, shines in the warm evening light. Lake Saulette stretches beyond the city, reflecting the golden sky.

  Braeton was right. The city is beautiful.

  By the time we reach the west entrance, the sun has set, and night is falling. Huge torches burn atop stone pillars on either side of the western gates, and guards stand like stoic statues, waiting for us to state our business.

  Rhys speaks with them, and they open the gates for us, allowing us into the city. I marvel at the architecture as we enter. It’s so different from home, and yet just similar enough to feel familiar.

  Instead of gray, here the streets, bridges, and structures are done in shades of tan and brown, constructed of a stone quarried from the nearby Saulette mountains. In Kenrow, our building materials come from the Casperons, farther north, brought in on long wagons pulled by teams of oxen.

  Most of the shops are closed for the day, but I eagerly take in their names. Betrys’s appears to sell wool and dyed cloth, and Kettle and Clove sells spices.

  The Green Bee Inn and The Speckled Frog Tavern take up most of the first square. The two buildings are adjoined to each other by a small courtyard that’s lit by several flickering lanterns. A few patrons sit at tables, eating and drinking. I would very much like to join them.

  We didn’t even bother to stop for lunch.

  Streetlamps light the streets. Wreaths of bright green leaves, glossy and fat, hang from each one, adorned with white and pink ribbons.

  “What are they celebrating?” I ask Rhys, temporarily forgetting that he’s irritated with me and, therefore, not talking.

  The knight glances at me and gives me a one-shouldered shrug that conveys that he not only doesn’t know, but he doesn’t care.

  We ride a little farther, until we reach another inn. This one isn’t as cute as The Green Bee. It doesn’t even have a proper name—it just says, “Inn.” It figures that this is the one Rhys would choose. The other probably offended him with its cute courtyard and cheery lights.

  “I’ll escort Amalia to the infirmary, where Kent asked us to meet,” Rhys says to his men. “You stay here. We’ll join you soon enough.”

  “I’m not staying here,” I inform him.

  Rhys cocks his head to the side, apparently not appreciating the challenge in front of his men.

  “I have a house somewhere in the city,” I clarify. “I’ll go there.”

  “If Kent releases Gage this evening, I will take you there. But otherwise, no, you will not stay there alone.”

  I sit a little taller, ignoring my saddle-sore tailbone. “I will stay in the house, and you will take me there. After that, you may return. Do you understand, knight?”

  Yes, that’s right. I’m pulling rank—and gladly.

  If possible, Rhys’s men are even quieter than before. I’m not sure they’re even breathing. None of them
want to miss a moment of the exchange.

  Rhys narrows his eyes and coaxes his horse next to mine, so close our legs brush. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I believe I was tasked with your wellbeing. Isn’t that a role you gave me yourself? You will not be staying anywhere alone. Are we clear?”

  He’s far too comfortable giving orders, but I have news for him—he’s not my captain. I know what he’s saying makes sense, but the thought of cowing to him now rankles in the worst way. Plus, I’ve longed for a real bed in a real room for too many days.

  “Come with me,” I say flippantly. “Or don’t. It’s your choice.”

  Staring Rhys right in the eyes, I flick my hair over my shoulder and nudge my mare forward without the slightest clue where I’m headed. Just as I expect, moments later, a horse follows.

  Smug, I turn to Rhys. “Apparently you—”

  I cut off abruptly and blink several times.

  Tryndon grins. “Not who you expected?”

  I resist the urge to turn in my saddle and glare at Rhys. Forcing a smile for Tryndon, I say, “No, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

  “I’m sure.” He laughs, finding the situation entirely too amusing.

  I want to ask him what that is supposed to mean, but I clamp my lips together, refusing to say anything that might make its way back to his brother.

  “So…you and Rhys are fighting,” Tryndon says as we ride.

  “We are?” I ask absently.

  He chuckles. “You like him.”

  “I find him mildly amusing,” I say darkly, using Rhys’s own words. “He entertains me.”

  “You’re telling me that after all that’s happened between the two of you, you still won’t admit you’re a tiny bit taken with the man?”

  I bristle, irritated that Rhys decided to share details with his brother. Maybe the kiss meant little to him, but it was still my first.

  “Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with your brother?” I nearly snarl. “Why do you assume I’m the one growing attached? I don’t care what story he gave you. He kissed me—it certainly wasn’t the other way around.”

  Tryndon’s eyebrows shoot up, and I realize he didn’t know about the kiss. I look straight ahead and grit my teeth, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “Rhys kissed you?” he asks, his tone far too serious for my liking.

  “We’re no longer talking about this.”

  Tryndon doesn’t say another word until we reach the infirmary, and then he’s too quiet as he places me in Kent’s care.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” he tells me, bowing with respect before he leaves.

  “Is something wrong?” Kent asks, frowning after Tryndon. “Who was that?”

  “Rhys’s brother.” I turn toward the door. “And everything is fine.”

  31

  Tryndon knocks on my door with the subtlety of a drunken troll.

  “What?” I demand when I open it. I’ve been in a foul mood all day, and I don’t feel like making small talk with my gregarious brother.

  He barges in, pushing me out of the way, and yanks the door shut. “You kissed Amalia?”

  I stare at him, startled. “She told you?”

  With enough decency to look embarrassed, my brother says, “She thought I knew. I was…needling her a bit.”

  “Why can’t you leave things alone?” I demand. “Why do you always insist on stirring up trouble?”

  Tryndon throws his hands in the air. “I was just curious…and a little bored.”

  I shake my head, turning from him before I do something self-indulgent—like punch him.

  “How could you do it?” he demands, stepping around me, grabbing me by the shoulders to make me face him. “You know I was never actually encouraging you. I get that Amalia is appealing, but you kissed Edwin’s future wife—your future sister-in-law. Our future queen.”

  “It wasn’t a real kiss,” I mutter, though I know he’s right. There’s no excuse. “The doctor’s sister was coming, and I had to think quick to hide the princess.”

  “That’s an excuse if I’ve ever heard one,” he scoffs. “Because kissing makes you invisible.”

  “Enough.”

  He lets go of me and takes several steps back, his expression solemn for once. “Do you care for the princess? Truly?”

  “I find her mildly amusing,” I say, remembering my words from the other day, trying not to smile as I say them.

  But I must say something wrong because Tryndon’s mouth falls open. “Are you in this deeper than I guessed? Those are the exact words Amalia used—what does that mean? Have you developed a code?”

  “You’re an idiot,” I say, turning from him so he won’t discover how surprised I am.

  More than that, I’m pleased. I can’t put my finger on why, but I know it’s not good.

  “What are you going to do?” he finally asks.

  “What am I going to do about what?”

  “The princess.”

  “I’m going to do exactly as Father commanded.”

  “How are you going to give her to Edwin if you—”

  “I don’t.”

  I won’t. I can’t.

  Tryndon thinks about it for several moments. “I’m supposed to go back for her.” He pauses, meeting my eyes. “Do you want to go instead?”

  I stare at him. He stares back at me.

  “Yes, fine,” I finally say, stalking past him, leaving him alone in my room.

  32

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask Gage, frowning. He looks paler than he was this morning, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his brow.

  “The trip was tiring,” he admits, closing his eyes.

  He’s in one of the infirmary beds. It’s a nice establishment to the east of the city, well-tended and clean. Kent assured me he’d feel better after he’d gotten some rest.

  “It was a long day,” he adds.

  And he had to listen to Lestra’s squawking for eight hours. No wonder he’s exhausted.

  Nodding, I try to ignore my concern. Gage is fine. It’s just his leg after all.

  I sit with him a while longer, until it seems he can keep his eyes open no more. Ember lies under the bed, perhaps sensing that Gage is injured and feeling the need to keep watch over him.

  “You’re a good girl,” I whisper, scratching behind her ears. She stretches, looking content, and then closes her eyes to nap.

  Kent is busy with other patients, happy to be back to tend them. I feel guilty for stealing him away when it’s obvious he loves his work. But he’s right—having a doctor join us would be a blessing.

  As I wait for Tryndon to return, I leave Gage’s room and wander the hall. There are different rooms for different ailments—wounds, sickness, and so on. I wonder if Kenrow has something like this at home. We must. Not everyone can come to the castle to be tended.

  I stop to look at a tapestry hanging on the wall. It’s a scene from our war with Draegan—physicians out in the field, aiding the wounded.

  “Are you ready to leave?”

  I whirl around, startled to find Rhys. “Tryndon said he was coming for me.”

  He raises a brow. “Would you like me to go back for him?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “You’ll do.”

  I turn away, cringing. You’ll do?

  Rhys follows me as I walk down the hall and peek into rooms, looking for Kent. I finally find him murmuring with another doctor outside an unmarked door.

  “Haven’t seen anything like it,” the older man says in hushed tones. “If I weren’t a man of science, I’d say there’s something unnatural about it.”

  Before Kent can answer, they notice us. Kent turns toward me, his forced smile faltering as he glances at Rhys. Looking back at me, he says, “You’re leaving?”

  I nod.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to escort you? I’m almost finished for the night.”

  Rhys shifts, and though he makes no outward sign of it, I can
tell Kent’s offer irritates him.

  But why? If I’m that much trouble, why not pawn me off on the helpful doctor?

  “That’s all right,” I answer. “I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

  Kent turns again to Rhys, and the two men have a silent conversation that makes me uncomfortable.

  “Is it all right if Ember stays with Gage?” I ask. “I’d feel better with her by his side, and I don’t think she wants to leave him.”

  Kent nods. “She’s fine. I’d like to change her bandage anyway. I’ll take her out in a few hours.”

  After thanking him, we say our goodbyes, and I follow Rhys outside. Our horses wait, side-by-side, looking half-asleep. Rhys unties them and then hands me my reins.

  I figure he’s going to lead me back to the inn. It’s so late, I won’t even make a fuss.

  But he rides north instead of west, toward the upper part of Saulette.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, coaxing my horse next to his.

  He doesn’t look at me. “Your house.”

  “How do you know where it’s at?” I ask, pressing my luck. He’s not exactly in a talkative mood.

  “Gage showed me the map.”

  “Is your memory that reliable that you can look at a map once and remember the location of a single destination?”

  He gives me a curt nod instead of an answer, and if I weren’t so tired, I’d keep at it. But it’s not worth it tonight.

  I don’t become concerned until we reach the northern gates. “The property isn’t in the city?”

  Rhys shakes his head. “It’s just outside the walls, on the shore of the lake.”

  “Oh,” I say, pleasantly surprised. The view in the daylight will be lovely, and maybe I’ll spot Braeton’s red herons right from a window.

  But I will be quite far from…well, everyone.

  Alone.

  “Rhys,” I say, trying not to groan. “Maybe it’s not a good idea…”

  “I’ll stay with you.”

  I blink at his curt words. They’re spoken with no affection—it’s a statement, nothing more. In fact, it’s as though he feels he’s sacrificing himself for my good. Quite the martyr, Rhys.