by C. L. Wilson
“It’s almost like she’s gotten inside of me somehow. And even though she’s been avoiding me from the start, it’s getting worse, not better. Every time I close my eyes she’s there. I can feel her beside me, I can smell the perfume of her hair, but when I look, she’s gone. I can hear her . . . but not. And the whole time I’m with Spring and Autumn, all I keep thinking is, ‘This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here.’ Like I am betraying her somehow by courting her sisters. Betraying her! A woman who clearly wants nothing to do with me!” He pressed his face against the cool glass of the sterncastle windows. “Ugh. I told you it didn’t make any sense.”
“I’m not so sure about that. It sounds like sorcery to me.” Ari’s expression had gone grim.
Dilys flipped around to press his back against the window. “Come on, Ari. They’re weatherwitches, not spellcasters.”
“They’re one of Mystral’s most powerful families, and they’ve been wedding into Mystral’s other most powerful families for thousands of years. Who knows what kinds of magical abilities they’ve accumulated and passed down over the years? Or what kind of magical services they might have hired?”
He opened his mouth to refute Ari’s charge, then closed it. Of course centuries of intermarriage with other magically gifted families would have resulted in offspring who possessed more than just their weathergifts—like Prince Falcon’s control over birds. That was one of the reasons the Bridehunters had chosen a Season to be his wife. He also knew that many wealthy families kept hired spellcasters on their payroll to deal with situations that required talents the family didn’t possess.
Dilys considered the possibilities for a moment, then shook his head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. Summer has made it clear she wants nothing to do with me. Why would she or any of them bespell me so that she was the only one I desired?”
“I can think of plenty of reasons, starting with the fact that we invaded them this winter. We may not hold grudges against the people we’re hired to fight, but that doesn’t mean those people don’t hold grudges against us.”
That was certainly possible, but . . . “I don’t get that sense at all. Not even from King Wynter. Calberna is a better ally than enemy, and he knows it.”
“So maybe it wasn’t the family. Maybe it was someone who doesn’t want you to wed any of them. Don’t forget we never found the woman who used susirena that first night. Maybe she did something to you.” Ari gripped the back of the chair and stared at Dilys with a look of dawning suspicion. “The pirates . . . do you think they could have planted a spellcaster here to keep you from wedding a weatherwitch to use against them? Our trip has been planned for months, and our purpose in coming here has been no secret. They’ve got to know that wedding you to a Season will give us a powerful weapon to use against them.”
Dilys thought about it briefly, but shook his head. “I wouldn’t put it past them, but every move they’ve made against us has been direct and obvious and brutal. This is far too subtle for them . . . and not nearly bloody enough.” He sighed and threaded his fingers through the ropes of his hair. “Honestly? I’m beginning to think I’m doing this to myself. Maybe I’m not as ready for marriage as I thought. Maybe the part of me that belonged to Nyamialine is still not ready to let another woman into my heart, so I’m sabotaging my chances to wed a Season. Or maybe I’m so used to women who would be mine for the asking that the only one I find truly interesting is the one who doesn’t want me.”
“First of all, winning over a woman just to prove you can make her want you is the sort of shallow challenge that only oulani men enjoy. It’s definitely not your style. As for Nyamialine . . .” Ari’s voice grew soft. “My sister loved you very much. Had she lived, your bond would have been unbreakable. As true a mating as ever there was. But you were still both children when she died. The love you shared, the bonds you forged, were those of friendship and affection, not the deep bonds of liana to akua. She would not want you to live your life alone. She wouldn’t want that for any of us.”
“I know that.” In fact, now that he’d suggested out loud that he might still be harboring some sort of connection to her, he realized that those once-strong ties had been completely severed. No part of them remained. How could they, when his inexplicable attraction to Gabriella Coruscate had infiltrated every part of his being?
Ari rocked back a little. “So,” he asked, “what are you going to do? Are you going to court Summer and see where it goes?”
At that suggestion, Dilys gave a humorless laugh. “How do you suggest I do that? The few times I’ve actually gotten within twenty yards of her, she starts shaking like I’m a hungry tiger and she’s a defenseless rabbit I’ve decided to eat for snack. She’d probably scream and faint if I showed the slightest hint of desire for her.” A desire which, after the constant erotic dreams he’d been having about her, he’d be hard-pressed not to reveal.
“She handles herself around Ryll and I just fine.”
There it was again. That instant aggression. “Do me a favor, Ari. Don’t keep bringing that up.” He held up a hand, showing the tips of his partially unsheathed battle claws. “I’m serious. No joking around. Because whatever is making me think she’s the only one I should be courting doesn’t have a sense of humor when it comes to you two cozying up to her.”
Ari raised his open palms in surrender. “I won’t say another word about it. I swear.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I think?”
There was a look on Ari’s face that made Dilys wary. “Whaaat?” he replied slowly, drawing out the word.
“I think that if you are still feeling that strongly about Summer Coruscate—and if you’re sure your feelings aren’t the work of some spellcaster—that you’re doing disservice to yourself and all the Seasons—including Summer—if you don’t pursue her.”
“Have you not been listening? She. Doesn’t. Want. Me. And she’s not the one I was sent here to wed anyway.”
“Fark who you were sent here to wed. If your instincts are telling you beyond a shadow of a doubt that Summer Coruscate is the one for you, then I say listen to them. As for her not wanting you . . . in my experience—which, in all modesty, when it comes to courting women, far exceeds your own—when a woman runs from a potential husband as hard as Summer Coruscate has been running from you, it isn’t him she’s running from. And it isn’t because she doesn’t want him.” He raised his brows.
“You’re saying you think she’s more interested me than she’s letting on.”
“I may have seen her looking at you a time or two when she thought no one was watching . . . and she wasn’t acting like she didn’t enjoy the view.”
Was it possible? “Even if that’s true, I already told Ryll he should feel free to court Summer himself.”
“Seriously?” Ari looked pointedly at Dilys’s hands, where his battle claws were already extending at the mere thought of Ryll pursuing Summer. “Like that is ever going to happen.”
Dilys curled his fingers into fists. Strangely—or perhaps not so strangely—hearing Ari scoff at the idea of him or Ryll even considering a romantic interest in Summer relieved all sorts of tension and aggression inside him. His claws were already retracting—and not because he was forcing them.
“So, it’s settled then.” Ari got up, spun his chair around and put it back in its place. “Tonight, you are going to spend the evening with Summer Coruscate, and you are going to court her. And you aren’t going to take no for an answer. Agreed?”
Dilys hesitated. He’d never pursued an unwilling woman. He’d never had to. But Ari was right, if everything in him was saying Summer was the one, he was being an idiot tying himself into knots trying to ignore his instincts.
“Agreed,” he said.
“Good. And if she tries to run, Ryll and I will be there to cut off her escape and drive her back your way.”
“For goddess’s sake, Ari, it’s a courtship, not a hunt.”
“Ah. That, my dear cousi
n, may be the real root of your problem. You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things.” Ari grinned, showing gleaming white teeth with battle fangs fully extended. “They’re not.”
“You’re doing fine, Lily.” Gabriella encouraged the young Summerlander as Lily stumbled over a word in the book she was learning to read. “Just sound it out.” With Gabriella doing her best to avoid the Calbernans staying at the palace, she had been staying late at the school every night, sewing the historical costumes for the children and tutoring Lily in reading and writing.
“No, not a long A.” Gabriella corrected as Lily mispronounced the word again. “This one makes the short A sound, like ‘cat’ and ‘hat.’”
Lily scowled. “Summer Sun! Could this be any more confusing? If the letters make different sounds, why didn’t someone come up with different letters?”
Gabriella smiled, not taking offense at the girl’s irritation. “I don’t know. That would seem to make more sense, wouldn’t it?”
Lily was not assuaged. “Maybe my father was right, and I’m too stupid to learn,” she muttered. “Maybe working in the orchards is all I was ever meant to do.”
“Don’t say that.” Gabriella leaned forward to take Lily’s hands. “Don’t ever say that. You aren’t stupid at all. You’ve already come so far in just a month.”
“This is all useless anyways,” Lily said. “No job I can do needs me to know reading or writing.”
“Perhaps not the jobs you’ve done in the past,” Summer agreed, “but what about all the other jobs you’ll be able to do once you learn to read and write?”
“Like what?” Lily lifted her black brows. Her skin was a much darker brown than Summer’s, tanned a deep, rich tone by a lifetime spent outdoors in Summerlea’s orchards, picking fruit and pruning trees. Her eyes were a warm shade of chocolate brown that sparkled in the sunlight.
“Like teaching, for one. Or working in a shipping warehouse, helping with inventories and stock reports. Or even running your own seamstress shop—just think how much easier it would have been this week if you’d been able to make a list of what we needed instead of calculating everything and remembering it all in your head.”
Lily sniffed. “That wasn’t hard. Lots easier, in fact, than all this.” She tossed her book on a nearby desk.
“You thought that was easy because you’re smart and you have an amazing memory,” Gabriella said. “I couldn’t have kept all those fabrics and yardages and whatnot in my head for two minutes, let alone several days, like you did.”
Lily’s scowl faltered a little. “Truly?”
“Yes, truly. I was very impressed . . . and more than a little envious.” Lily’s mouth fell open. Clearly, it had never occurred to her that a princess of the realm could envy her anything. “What I’m saying is that reading and writing opens all sorts of doors. It will give you many more options to support yourself and your baby.” Gabriella hesitated, then added softly, “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To make a safe home for you and your baby, and give yourself options enough that you won’t ever have to stay in a bad situation again?”
Though Lily never had much to say about her life in Summerlea, Gabriella knew something bad had happened back there. The girl had constantly flinched and cowered at sharp noises when she’d first arrived, and constantly glanced over her shoulder as if expecting to see someone hunting her. There were scars on her wrists, back, and arms that she kept hidden beneath long-sleeved gowns. Gabriella only knew about them because she’d come to the school early one morning this past week and walked in on Lily getting dressed in the school washroom.
Lily flushed and glanced down, biting her full lips. “Yes,” she admitted in a hoarse whisper. “That’s what I came here for.”
“Well, I promise, I will help you do that as best I can. You learning to read is an excellent first step.” She knew Lily had really come here hoping to wed a Calbernan, but Lily found the big, bare-chested Seafolk a bit intimidating. (Who could blame her?) She hadn’t worked up the courage to approach one yet, and because there were so many other women who’d flocked to Konumarr for the opportunity—many of them widowed or orphaned by the war—that meant she hadn’t yet caught any Calbernan’s eye. More than once, Gabriella had found her staring out the window, sighing at all the laughing, happy women walking out with their foreign suitors.
“Do you really think I can do this? Learn to read?”
Gabriella gave her a quick squeeze. “Of course I do. You were determined enough to get here all on your own, weren’t you? I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“No,” Lily agreed.
“Well, if you could do that, you can do this, too. You’re smart. You’ve already picked up so much in the short time you’ve been here. You just need to keep at it and don’t give up.”
“No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am.” Lily grimaced and took a deep breath. “I mean, thank you, Your Highness, for all your help. I never knew a lady so kind as you.”
Gabriella smiled. She’d come to care about the plucky young girl. Lily was good-natured, hard-working, and kind: qualities to be admired wherever they were found. And in Lily’s company, especially this last week, she had found a measure of genuine peace. Even the sight of Lily’s unborn baby kicking and moving in her belly didn’t rouse the beast the way it had two weeks ago—probably because the beast had locked its focus on Dilys Merimydion and her sisters.
“Let’s finish this page and make it an early night,” Gabriella suggested. “I understand there’s going to be dancing in the plazas tonight. I think you should go.”
Lily cast a longing glance out the school windows, where the sound of laughter from courting couples wafted in through the open panes, but then her wistful expression closed up, and she said, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long week. I was thinking about just catching up on my sleep.”
“Don’t be silly. Go. You’ll have fun.” Gabriella hated for Lily to be stuck here, holed up in the school, when she really wanted to be out in the village, dancing and meeting handsome young men.
“Er . . . well, maybe I will,” the young woman muttered.
Gabriella, who’d made prevaricating her life’s work, could smell even an accomplished lie from a mile away—and Lily wasn’t close to being an accomplished liar. “That means you won’t.” She held up her hands to forestall any insincere protests. “At least tell my why you won’t go when you clearly would like to? It can’t be because of the baby. There are at least a hundred expectant mothers here looking for husbands.”
Biting her lip and blushing a little, Lily admitted, “It’s just that . . . well . . . I don’t know anyone. Between working at the school and studying at night, I don’t get out much. Not that I’m complaining!” she rushed to add. “Not at all. I’m so grateful for the school and the work and a place to stay. More grateful than I can possibly say—”
“But you haven’t had much time to do anything else.”
“Which is fine!” Lily exclaimed. “I have so much more here than I ever dreamed possible.”
Gabriella laid her hands over Lily’s and smiled. “It’s all right. I understand completely. And it’s my fault. I’ve been thoughtless, so wrapped up in my own life, I haven’t paid attention to how little time I’ve left you to live yours.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. Please, don’t think that. It’s just that—well, I know I made my way from the Orchards to here on my own, but contrary to what you believe, that was desperation, not bravery. I’m really a big coward. Especially when it comes to going places and doing things without someone I know as company. I had plenty of time before we started making the costumes to go out and meet the folk around here, but I didn’t. It was easier—more comfortable—to keep to myself.”
Gabriella hadn’t gauged Lily to be a shy wallflower. Probably because the girl was so good at helping out and getting things done. And because she was so good with the children—decisive and authoritative while remaining kind and app
roachable.
Now, Gabriella felt guilty for not paying more attention. She’d been so preoccupied with her own concerns that she’d been completely blind to Lily’s. That wasn’t like her, and she hated that she’d been so self-absorbed, but this, at least, was an oversight she could rectify. Summer was no stranger to shy wallflowers. Entertaining them, drawing them out of their shells, helping them meet and make friends had, in fact, always been one of her most common roles. (Cozying up to cretins being her other most common role.) Even if Gabriella couldn’t stay in Konumarr long enough to see Lily’s future settled, she could at least see to it that Lily got out of the schoolhouse, met some Calbernans, and made friends who would not let her hide away.
And she could start by seeing that Lily got out of the schoolhouse and had a little fun tonight.
“I think dancing in the plazas is just what you need,” Gabriella said. “To be honest, I was hoping to go with you and do a little dancing myself.” The sudden flare of hope that lit Lily’s eyes made Gabriella feel even guiltier for not seeing how lonely she was before now.
Then Lily’s brief spurt of hope faded. “You? A fine lady? Dancing in the plazas?” Lily shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. That wouldn’t be right.” Like most Summerlanders, Lily had been raised with a very definite idea of social classes and who belonged where. It was one of Gabriella’s least favorite aspects of her homeland. Here in Wintercraig, there were still nobles and peasants, but surviving in the harsh climate made them much more codependent, frequently blurring the lines between social classes, or erasing them altogether.
“I wasn’t planning to go as a fine lady,” Gabriella said, thinking fast. “You and I are close to the same size. I was hoping you could loan me a dress to wear, and maybe one of your scarves.”
“I—are you sure?”
“Completely,” Gabriella said. Actually, the more she thought about it, the better the idea sounded. One of the calming techniques her mother had taught Gabriella was to get away from whatever was upsetting her and distract herself with something fun and lighthearted whenever she felt herself getting too wound up. Gods knew, she’d been wound tighter than a coiled spring since the Calbernans had come. Dancing—a pastime she’d always enjoyed—would probably do her worlds of good. And since neither Calberna’s prince nor her sisters were likely to join the common folk for tonight’s festivities, accompanying Lily to the party in the plazas was probably one of the safest places she could be tonight.
