“Tor –” I whispered.
“Sweets, go.”
I shook my head. “We can get him water. Food. Maybe he’ll perk up.”
“Sweets… go.”
I stepped into him and put my hand back on his chest. Leaning in and up, I begged again, “Please.”
His eyes moved over my face before he said quietly, “I give in, we do this bird no favors.”
Oh my God. Was he going to relent?
“We can nurse him back to health. Get him some seed, water, then to a vet the first chance we get,” I suggested.
His jaw clenched.
My hand slid up his chest to curl my fingers around his neck. “Tor, please, he’s Aggie. The first being I saw in this world was Rosa, the second, Aggie. I don’t have a sister at home and I had Rosa for about ten minutes before she was gone. Aggie was swept away in the wind when the vickrants came. They both can’t be gone. I couldn’t bear it. It may sound crazy but he’s important to me. I can’t do anything to help Rosa but maybe I can do something to help Aggie. Help me help him. Please.”
Okay, truth be told, I was laying it on a bit thick but the reason this bird had been stuck up in a tree for days was because I had inadvertently started a curse that struck up a wind that caught this little creature in it so it was all my fault his wing was mangled (kind of).
Tor held my eyes then he lifted his hand and cupped my jaw.
Then he murmured, “Go get the waterskin. Let’s get this bird hydrated.”
He relented!
Goodie!
I smiled brightly at him, lifted up on my toes, pushed in (careful not to further crush Aggie) at the same time my hand slid to the back of his neck and pulled down. He bent and I touched my mouth to his.
I pulled back an inch and looked in his beautiful eyes.
“Thank you, honey,” I whispered, watched his eyes light but I had things to do so I didn’t dawdle.
I let him go and raced to Salem to get the waterskin thinking as I did it that maybe Prince Noctorno Hawthorne wasn’t all that bad.
Chapter Twelve
Bellebryn
“Sweets, wake up.”
I shifted physically but in my unconscious I executed a lazy breaststroke toward consciousness, decided I liked the warm, safe waters I was in, gave up and floated.
Tor’s deep voice again penetrated my slumber. “Cora, we’re almost home.”
That got my attention and my eyes fluttered open.
I was turned fully to the side in Tor’s saddle, snug between his legs and up against his chest, my cheek pressed deep, his arm cradling me, my arm cradling a recuperating Aggie.
I tipped my head back, sliding my cheek against his chest, saw the underside of his strong, stubbled jaw tilt down and his beautiful light blue eyes hit mine.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hullo, sleepy,” he whispered back.
My stomach melted.
Mm.
I gave him a small smile. He returned a gorgeous one.
My stomach melted more.
Mm.
“We’re nearly there?” I asked and he jerked his chin slightly up and replied, “Turn and see.”
I started to turn, thinking that I wished we weren’t nearly to his castle.
It had taken not three days to get there, but four.
This was because we stopped at a large village with a veterinarian who looked at Aggie, did his best to set Aggie’s wing, gave us some medicinal herbal drops, a kind of rudimentary eye dropper we could use to give Aggie water and some tiny balls made of suet and crushed seeds that we could give Aggie to eat.
Even with this, Aggie had not made a turn for the better until that morning. He took his drops, he took his water, he gamely swallowed down the suet balls but he hovered at death’s door until that very morning when we woke to see him hopping around and chirping, partly, but not fully, back to his old self.
It had also taken us four days because Tor stopped in other villages and a small town. He did this so we could eat in pubs or, when we were in the town, a surprisingly rather cosmopolitan café that had great pastries. He also did this in the evenings so we could rent rooms in inns in order to have a soft bed to sleep in at night and, major bonus, hot baths (heavenly).
And in the town, he bought me another outfit. It was much the same as the first except the material was of better quality. The skirt and vest were pale blue with beautiful turquoise, silver and green embroidery around the hem of the skirt and all over vest and a flowy cream top that had intricate lace around the bottom of the sleeves. The petticoats were cream and dripped at the bottom with the same lace that adorned the sleeves of the blouse. And the satin slippers were green but had blue bows at the toes the color of the dress.
The whole ensemble was awesome.
The dressmaker, thrilled beyond belief to be outfitting who she thought was the future queen, upon hearing (from me, I was being chatty) that we were roughing it, also gave me a comb made out of bone, a brush that looked basic but its bristles were firm and felt freaking great on my scalp and turquoise satin ribbon to use in my hair, all at no charge. I thanked her with a hug and kiss on the cheek which bought me a short lecture later on princess behavior from Tor but I didn’t care. I was thrilled beyond belief to be able to comb my hair, it was nice to have something to hold it away from my face and the ribbon looked great threaded through my dark locks so if I wanted to hug someone because they did me a kindness, I was a princess and I felt I should be able to.
Sometimes when we were in these towns and villages, Tor would not take us to a pub for lunch or dinner but would buy cheese, bread and fruit and then we’d stop on the way by a lake, a stream or in a wildflower-filled field and we’d have a picnic.
On the third day, it hit me what he was doing.
He was taking his time. Allowing me to chat with townsfolk, window shop, smell the flowers, taste the foods and drink in the landscape.
He was giving me his world.
And in return he didn’t ask for a single kiss. He didn’t make me pay the debt I owed him for saving Aggie. Nothing.
We slept in the same bed every night, I woke in his arms every morning and I spent nearly every waking minute with him (except when I was bathing or trying on my new outfit). Even as future king, he was not a man who shied away from public affection, often brushing his lips against mine (in public and not), taking my hand, guiding me with his fingers at the small of my back, standing with his arm about my waist.
But other than that, he was the perfect gentleman (albeit an often annoying one, he could be a gentleman but that didn’t mean we didn’t still bicker, we did, though to all appearances, he seemed to enjoy it).
So that meant he gave his world to me without me asking for it or him making me earn it.
He just gave it, free and clear.
Yes, Prince Noctorno Hawthorne, I decided, wasn’t that bad at all.
And I also decided I loved every minute of being out on the road with him, experiencing this world, yes, even when we were bickering and yes, believe it or not, because I was experiencing it with him.
And therefore, as cool as a castle would likely be, I had to admit I was sad that our adventure was ending.
I noticed the sun was setting as I twisted in the saddle holding Aggie carefully. Dusk was settling. Soon it would be night.
Then I sat forward, lifted my eyes and stopped breathing.
Oh.
My.
God.
I stared.
It was… it was… indescribable.
It wasn’t just a castle. It was a castle and a city. An actual city.
I hadn’t seen one of those in this world and let me tell you, it was a-freaking-mazing.
The city started at the bottom of a steep, huge hill. Even at our distance (we were still quite far away), I could see flowers burgeoning everywhere. If my eyes didn’t deceive me, even some of the roofs had flowerpots.
But there were also colorful awnin
gs on the front of some buildings, some solid, some in stripes, all in different colors. They decorated in lanterns too, also all different colors, dripping from the eaves and it looked like on the sides of buildings and even on the streets. They also fully utilized black wrought iron, there were iron whimsies shooting in the air, curlicues decorating the sides of buildings.
Magnificent.
A winding, blond, wide, clean cobblestone road led up the steep hill that was covered in what looked like adobe, terracotta tile-roofed buildings with their flowers, awnings, lanterns and iron whimsies. The road, too, was set with flowers liberally and lit with tall, curlicued, black iron street lamps.
And at the top of the hill was the best of it all.
A huge castle shooting straight in the air made of a mellow cream stone with an abundance of arched windows that blinked in the waning sun, high turrets piercing the sky with colorful pennants flying, balconies here, there and everywhere dripping with flowers through their contrasting ivory-stoned balustrades – the entire building made of smooth, rounded edges and circles.
To the left, there was emerald green sea (yes, emerald green) and I could see islands close and far and ships (also lit with lanterns) bobbing. To the right, fields of forests and rolling hills. Beyond, the landscape was a patchwork quilt of different crops. And to the front, a sea of wildflowers, ablaze with color even in the diminishing light.
Totally something out of an animated movie.
We had nothing like that at home.
It was unbelievable.
“My God,” I whispered as Salem clattered over a bowed, wooden bridge that spanned a wide, rushing, crystal clear river.
“Welcome to Bellebryn,” Tor muttered behind me.
“What?” I asked distractedly, still dazzled by the view.
“We just crossed the bridge into Bellebryn, my land,” he explained.
I blinked and even though I didn’t want to tear my eyes away from the sights they beheld, I twisted to look up at him.
“You own all of this?”
Tor looked down at me. “No, I own the castle. But I rule it all.”
I blinked again.
“Rule it?”
“It’s mine, not part of my father’s kingdom. Everything from the river to the sea to the forest is ruled by me.”
Holy crap!
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes,” he grinned, “really.”
“So, your Dad gave it to you at birth or something?”
He shook his head. “No, Cora, I conquered it.”
I blinked yet again then whispered, “What?”
“I conquered it.”
“You conquered it?” I breathed.
“Yes, love.”
Holy crap!
I turned to face front and I could see why he would want to. It was amazing. But I didn’t get it. Why would he do that? Was he the marauding kind of warrior?
I didn’t know if that was good.
“I don’t get it,” I told him.
“Get what?”
“Why, when you stand to inherit a kingdom, would you conquer this land?”
“This isn’t the only land I conquered and all of it was my land, my birthright, wrested from me, or, more aptly, my father. I just took it back.”
I twisted again to look at him.
“What?”
His arm about me gave me a squeeze and he explained, “Remember what I told you about Dash not being a soldier or warrior?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“My father isn’t a soldier or warrior either.”
Whoa.
Tor went on, “He’s a good man. A kind man. A benevolent king, fair and generous. His people love him. But even though he has great skills in some ways as a leader, in others, he does not. Furthermore, he had the misfortune of finding, falling in love with and wedding women who were, by all accounts, lovely but who had weak constitutions. My mother died while having me.” Oh dear. “Dash’s mother died from flu six months after he was born.” Oh shit. “And Orlando’s mother never fully recovered from his birth and died two years after in her sleep.” God, that sucked. “My Father loved them all and became more and more heartsick with each loss. He was raising three sons alone and although he is king, he fully participated in our upbringing and therefore his mind was on other things. The ruler of the neighboring kingdom to our north coveted areas of ours and with my father’s heart not in it, this king was able to conquer vast tracks of my father’s, and thus my, realm. My father did what he could in his state to fight but did not succeed in keeping his kingdom safe.”
All righty then. Maybe everything about this world wasn’t hunky dory.
Tor kept talking. “King Baldur of the north is not a benevolent king. He is not fair or generous. He is greedy and ruthless. His taxes are high. His tactics are cruel. Therefore, our people, as ruled by him, were suffering. So, when I came of age and finished my training, I felt that not only was it my responsibility to re-secure the land that was my birthright, it was my responsibility to safeguard those living on that land who were still my people. Therefore, I petitioned my father to allow me to build a personal army of warriors to do these things. He agreed, I chose my men, trained them and then we advanced.”
His eyes went over my head as I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was saying and as he gazed at his personal princedom, he continued.
“It took five years and too many lives, but we did it.”
Five years!
Tor looked down at me and continued, “And now my people are thriving and safe. As this was the most beautiful of all the territory we secured, I petitioned my father, as a gesture of gratitude to my men, to confer Bellebryn onto me. All my men and their families live here. It is not just mine, it is ours, the sun, the sea, the forest, the town bustling with trade, a kind of tranquility after years of war, a gift for their sacrifice.”
I stared up into his beautiful, scarred facing thinking of the other scars on his chest and back, the way he wielded a sword, how armed his cave was and his recent words.
Oh Lordy. I was thinking that Prince Noctorno Hawthorne was not just not so bad but that he might be pretty freaking amazing.
And I was thinking after all my time with him, all I knew, all I continued to learn, that I was sinking into some pretty deep trouble.
I turned to face forward again and even though my heart was beating hard in my chest and I was finding it difficult to breathe, I felt something should be said.
So I said something.
“It’s beautiful, Tor. Every inch of it. In all the beauty I’ve seen since I’ve been here, this is by far the most beautiful. And I’m glad you have it after what you and your men endured. I hope it brings you peace, being home.”
He stilled behind me but after a second, his arm slid up to my ribs and tightened and I felt his lips touch my neck in a soft kiss.
Then, in my ear, he murmured, “It does, indeed, bring me peace to be home.”
I curved my arm around his, laced our fingers at my side and whispered, “Good.”
We fell silent and I watched the city getting ever closer as the sun set and more lanterns and streetlights were lit, illuminating the city and casting a cheerful glow into the darkening night.
And I watched this miraculous vision thinking I had an additional worry to occupy my mind.
It wasn’t just what Cora was getting up to in my world. It wasn’t that with every passing day it seemed less and less likely I was going home. It wasn’t that with every passing day I felt less and less like I wanted to go home. It wasn’t that I missed my parents and friends and I wished I had the opportunity to say good-bye.
It was that I was thinking I was falling for a black prince who conquered lands, took care of his people, gave in when I wanted to save a tiny bird and took time to show me his world.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the possibility still loomed that I could go to sleep at any time and wake up back home. Which would mean, if I
fell for Tor, I would leave behind the man I loved in a fairytale world I could never go to again.
Which would seriously suck.
Therefore I was thinking I had to guard my heart when another thought shoved into my brain and my body went solid when it did.
Shit.
Bellebryn was his home, his city, his princedom.
And I was his princess.
And I, or the other Cora, had been here.
Tor felt me tense.
“Cora?” he called and I twisted to look up at him.
“Do your people know me?” I asked.
He studied my face and answered slowly, “Yes.”
“Do they know I’m a bitch?”
He hesitated.
Oh shit! They knew I was a bitch.
I turned quickly forward again, chanting, “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Cora –”
“Stop,” I demanded.
“Pardon?”
“Stop!” I shouted.
Tor pulled back on the reins, Salem stopped then turned his head to look at us and a groggy Aggie chirped a “What’s happening?”
I didn’t answer the bird. I was trying to think.
“Love, it’ll be fine,” Tor assured me.
“I need to, I don’t know, brush my hair and, um,” I lifted my hand and started pinching my cheeks, “um…” I repeated.
I didn’t know!
“Cora, look at me,” Tor commanded and I did. “It will be fine.”
“They think I’m a bitch,” I reminded him.
“No, they don’t. The people don’t know you. You’ve been here once. I will admit, you didn’t make a good impression…” Fabulous. “But you were simply haughty, a bit cold the short time you were here. They don’t think much of anything except that you aren’t around.” He paused. “Now my men…” he trailed off.
Oh boy.
“What have I done to your men?”
He looked in my eyes. “Nothing, except the fact you refuse to warm my bed. Something they haven’t missed nor do they like, considering half my soul is yours. They’re loyal to me and wish me contentment.”
Great. Freaking great. His warriors hated me because I was a cold bitch who made her man search for it elsewhere.
Fantastical Page 13
