by Amber Jaeger
“You have to wake up,” she whispered. He did not move.
She moved to sit in on the edge of the bed and wiped a towel over his deep scratches. Knowing he was in pain and could do nothing to help him made her heart break. “You are not a bad man, you are a good man. Please wake up, I cannot do this without you.” The words sounded selfish to her but they were true. She could never become queen without Lian’s strength and guidance. And not just because he controlled all the plans but because she could not go on without his face and humor and kindness. Temper be damned, she loved all of the man and losing him would kill her.
That thought had her scrambling off the bed and nearly out the cracked window. She loved him? Loved him? Since when?
Her brain furiously tried to process what her heart already knew. Although he was a pawn to his own anger, she loved him, all of him. But like everyone else she had loved, it seemed he would die.
She thought back on Iago’s promise and scowled. Of course he would continue searching. But would he find a cure before the king succumbed to the poison? She was sure he would not.
“Not a fairy tale,” she muttered to herself bitterly, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Muttering to herself, she went back over to the bed her love laid on. “What part of my life has ever been a fairy tale?” She thought back on the stories she had learned in early childhood with a bit of resentment. Perfect princes, powerful magicians, magic kisses…
Her stomach seemed to drop away at her last thought. “No,” she whispered to herself. “That is just silly. Poison cannot be cured by…”
She felt her cheeks warm as she contemplated leaning over the bed to kiss Lian. “Foolish,” she muttered, letting her eyes wander over his pale, scratched face and perfect mouth. Again, her heart clenched painfully as she thought of him slipping away forever.
With a glance about the room to make sure they were truly alone, she edged over to the bed and sat gently. The king did not stir. As she leaned over him, she became sure he would wake on his own, probably to yell at her about how improper she was being. That brought a faint smile to her lips.
With her face poised only inches above his, she paused to study his features again. Even with the scratches, he seemed perfect and even though he was pale, he still seemed strong. She wished he would open his eyes but mentally prepared herself that she would likely never see them twinkle in amusement or darken with anger again. With that thought, she steeled herself to at least try.
Uncertain of exactly what to do, she licked her lips and then pressed them firmly to his. She was surprised by how perfectly they fit together, by how warm and firm his lips were even in illness. But they did not move against hers and after a painful moment, she pulled away and opened her eyes.
His were still closed.
She gave her king a wry smile. “It was worth a try,” she said quietly. “But I must admit that was a terrible first kiss.” She tried to laugh at her joke but laughter quickly turned to painful sobs and she pulled Lian’s arm away so she could curl against his chest and cry into his shirt.
A slight pressure on her hip made her jump and she sat up quickly, sure someone had seen her foolish display. She scanned the room but there was no one there.
Exhausted and grieving, she turned back to her fallen king.
His eyes, though strained and bleary, were open.
“Tree Girl,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Why are you crying?” He grimaced and rubbed at his throat. “I am so thirsty.”
Shock kept her frozen. The lack of pumping from her heart made the room spin and she fisted her hands in the blankets to stay up right.
“Katiyana,” Lian said again, reaching for her. “Are you well?”
With a joyful cry she dove into his arms, pressing her face into the hollow where his neck and shoulder met. “It worked,” she cried. “You are awake!”
She felt his shaky hand in her hair. “What is happening, Katiyana?” he asked, his voice still weak. She pushed up from him and wiped her eyes.
“Stay here,” she commanded. “Do not move, I will get you fresh water and Iago.” She jumped down from the bed and ran to the door, throwing it open.
Bennet started next to it, his chin snapping up from where it had been resting on his chest. “Get Iago, hurry, Lian is awake,” she cried.
Bennet looked from her to the open doorway, his face softening with wonder. Katiyana let him have his moment with his friend and raced down the hall to Alma’s room. “Get up,” she trilled, pouncing on her friend’s bed. “He is awake!”
Alma shot up in her bed, nearly smacking foreheads with Katiyana. “He is, truly?” she asked, grabbing the other girls arms.
Katiyana just nodded, her wide grin speaking for itself.
Alma shrieked and threw the covers from the bed, nearly depositing Katiyana on the floor. “He will need water and food,” she said, ripping a gown from her closet. In a flurry she was dressed and hopping around for her shoes. “And a bath, he needs a bath. And a shave! Katiyana, you will do that, won’t you?”
Katiyana watched the servant jump around the room in amusement. “Of course I will. Now come see him, he will not care what you look like.”
Alma finished smoothing her hair into a low bun. “It is not his opinion I am after.”
The hall was filled with people when they left the room. Guards had been stationed at each end and four stood outside the king’s door, as if Bennet trusted only himself to properly watch over the king. The cook was laboring up the far stairs with a tray filled with covered dishes and many pitches of water and juice. Calia herself was pacing outside the shut door.
“Can we not go in?” Katiyana asked, preparing to turn the door into kindling.
“In a moment,” the queen said gently. “Iago is with him and Bennet as well.”
She bit her lip. He deserved his privacy but she wanted to see him again with his eyes open.
Finally the door opened and Iago slipped out, his brow drawn down low over his eyes. He glanced about before settling his disturbed gaze on Katiyana.
He was to her in just a few steps, his hand gently on her elbow, steering her away from everyone. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice low.
“He—he woke up,” she stuttered.
“I can see that,” he said dryly. “But there was nothing in that concoction that would have fought against any poison, it was merely to calm him. Did you give him something, did you do something?”
Katiyana glanced around the dark hallway and at all the people milling about with joy evident on their faces. “I did nothing,” she muttered, refusing to admit she had kissed the sleeping king.
“It is important,” Iago said, tilting her chin up. “I must know what woke him up.”
She twisted her face out of his grip. “He just woke up,” she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. “May I see him now?”
Iago searched her eyes for a full minute before nodding.
She grabbed Alma’s hand and slipped between the guards to open the door. The room was bright, every candle and lamp flaming. It was too warm and smelled of smoke, which only exaggerated the stuffiness.
But Katiyana could have been in the infernos of hell for all she cared because Lian was up, awake, resting in his chair by the fire. His eyes were tired but clear and he smiled when he saw her.
Alma rushed to him first while Katiyana hung back shyly. Lian accepted his servant’s fierce hug, never taking his eyes from Katiyana’s. She began to flush and quickly turned to blow out some of the candles and lower the flames of the lamps. The window she had opened was shut and she pushed it wide, watching all the smoke get sucked through. She fiddled with it a moment longer, as if she could not decide on just how wide to leave it open but finally had to turn back to the room and the king.
He patted an empty chair next to him as Alma rushed about fixing the tray of broths and soft vegetables and rice.
Suddenly uncertain of her place in everything, she had to force herself
to sit. She stared resolutely at her boots, feeling her face grow hotter by the second.
“Have you no well wishes for me?” Lian asked quietly, his amusement evident.
“What? Yes, of course, I am glad you are well,” she mumbled, still not looking up.
“Really? It does not seem that way.” Even tired and weak, he seemed to be teasing her.
Katiyana finally raised her eyes to glare at him. “Of course I am,” she repeated.
Alma set a small table in front of the king and covered it with bowls and mugs. She handed Lian a spoon. “As much as you can but do not overeat,” she admonished.
With a wry grin, he ducked his head and she cracked his knuckle with the silverware. “Do not be coy with me, I was worried sick you would never wake up.”
He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Do not worry Alma, I am well.”
She huffed and pulled the linens from the bed before rolling them into a ball and leaving the room.
Katiyana swallowed hard, suddenly realizing it was only her and the king.
He had yet to start eating but his smile had faded. She tried to look everywhere but at him and finally could not stand the silence any longer.
“What?” she demanded, throwing her hands into the air. “Eat, or Alma is going to beat you.”
“Thank you, Katiyana,” he said, his voice a little stronger.
She bit the inside of her lip and opened her eyes a bit wider. “Whatever for?”
“I know what you did, how you woke me up. I do not know why that worked but it did.”
Where her cheeks had been flaming only seconds before, they now felt freezing as all the blood drained from them. “I do not know what you are speaking of,” she gasped, starting rise.
He grabbed her hand, his eyes pleading. “Please do not leave. And please do not be embarrassed. I will not tease you,” he promised.
“And you cannot tell anyone,” she said quickly.
His rakish grin was back. “Was it so terrible?”
She stood up from the chair again. “No teasing!”
“All right, all right,” he laughed, finally taking up his spoon. “Please, sit, we must talk.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry and she glanced up at him with wide panicked eyes.
“It really must have been terrible. But no, not about that. We must talk about you and the wicked witch.”
For a moment her mind spun. Thoughts of her stolen kiss, of his shining eyes and playful banter had her reeling. “Wicked witch?” she repeated hollowly.
He raised a brow. “Yes. You know, Sula? Your stepmother? The woman who keeps trying to murder us all?”
“Right, her,” she mumbled, stealing one of his many mugs of tea to hide behind.
“Are you quite all right?” he asked, suddenly serious. “They tell me you have stayed with me the entire time, you must be exhausted.”
“Fine, fine,” she said, waving away his concerns. “What do you want to speak to me about?”
“I have decided to end the war between us,” he said, his voice warm and even.
Katiyana looked to him hopefully. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I am going to kill her.”
Hot tea sloshed over her hand and she swore, jumping up from the plush chair. More spilled in the process and she rushed to grab cloth.
Lian reached one first and pressed the damp rag to her hand. “Are you badly burned?” he asked, dabbing at her tender skin.
“No, fine—Lian, what do you mean you are going to kill her? I had thought perhaps when you said ‘end the war’ you meant something peaceful,” she said, her voice shaking as badly as her wounded hand.
Eyes on his chest, she saw it rise with the deep breath he took before suddenly his hands were buried in her hair and tilting her face to his. “That apple was meant for you, Katiyana,” he said and she felt the rumble in his chest and his breath fanning across her face. She locked her weakening knees as he continued. “I do not know how she has guessed my feelings for you but she has and once again, she wants to destroy something I hold dear. For that, for her all her threats against you, for my family’s blood on her hands, she will die. And I will be the one to rip her life from her.” His eyes glowed with a terrible light that chilled her to her core.
“Lian,” she whispered, trying to control the shaking in her voice. “It is not just me she wants to destroy, it is you as well. And even if you succeed in killing her, the hate you have in your heart will poison you beyond any hope of repair and she will have still succeeded. Can you not see that?”
His lips twisted, revealing a dimple she had not noticed before. “Sweet Katiyana. When she is gone from this world, I will give you everything you have ever hoped and dreamed for. You will have the throne, your people will be free, your friends will be safe. And one day, if you want me, I will be yours as well.” His thumbs stroked her warm cheeks, sending shivers down back.
“Lian, if you continue down this path of hatred, you will be broken by it. Please…”
He continued to stroke her face and take in her features. “I am sorry your first kiss was so terrible. Perhaps I can make it up to you?”
Lian hesitated only a second, searching her eyes for her consent, before pressing his lips to hers. Sweet and soft, yet firm, his mouth moved against hers in ways she had never imagined and she had to wind her arms around his neck to support her limp legs. His lips curved up against hers as he pulled her in tighter and he chuckled at her surprised gasped before taking advantage to deepen the kiss, searing her with his desire.
When he finally released her, her head swam and she leaned it against his chest, trying to regain control of her breathing. His hands wove through her hair and down her back, heating every inch of her body. But as happy as she was, her heart was dark.
“Lian,” she said against his silken shirt. “Please, please reconsider about Sula. There has to be a better way, a peaceful way.”
For an instant his arms stiffened, then he pressed a kiss to her temple and released her. “All will be well, I promise you. Once this witch is dealt with, I can be the man you deserve.”
Remembering his cries while sickened, she pressed a hand to her swollen lips, unsure how to proceed.
“Lian,” she said softly. “You are already a good man, and a good king. Her death cannot improve on that, only take away.”
His eyes hardened. “I have disgraced my family in failing to extract revenge for all her vile actions.”
“No,” she argued softly. “Your family smiles down upon you from wherever they are. Your father would be proud of the man you are. I… you spoke in your sleep, while you were poisoned. These things that haunt you, they are not true.”
He turned from her to face the fire. “I will avenge my family, that is the only way to peace for me. And the only way to peace for your people. You will see my wisdom in this with time.”
“I see your pain now,” she said to his back. “And her blood on your hands will not lessen it.”
When he did not respond, she left for her own bed chamber with a heavy heart. Sleep did not come easily but thankfully neither did the nightmares.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The sun was high when Katiyana finally opened her swollen, bleary eyes to the day. Alma was knocking gently and once again forgetting her manners, she opened the door wearing the king’s nightgown with ratted hair.
Alma burst into laughter. “You look like crazed woman,” she said, pointing to the tangled mess on her head.
“I feel like it,” Katiyana muttered as she stepped aside to allow the woman in.
“We all let you sleep, everyone knows you stayed by the king’s side and they admire you for it.”
“Who is ‘they’?” Katiyana asked suspiciously.
“Everyone. All the rulers. They are still here. When they heard how Sula had poisoned Lian and that it was meant for you, they vowed to band together to remove her from the throne,” she said, flipping through gowns in the wardrob
e.
“Well, I believe he means to remove her head,” Katiyana said, scowling. She flopped back down on the bed and Alma slapped at her foot.
“None of that, you must get up and dressed, it is almost noon.”
“Noon?” Katiyana gasped. “Where is Lian, is he all right? I meant to be up early to check on him.”
“He is fine, as if nothing happened,” Alma called from the bathroom. “He is down stairs conducting his new War Cabinet.”
Fear gripped her heart as she thought of Lian following through on his plans, with support, no less. “And you think this is a good idea?”
“What?” Alma called over the rushing of the bathwater.
“Nothing,” she muttered, jerking the nightgown over her head as made her way to the bathing room.
Alma turned a surprised eye to her. “Getting over your modesty, my dear?”
Katiyana splashed a wave of soapy water. “Do not be crude, just help me get ready. I wanted to be with the king hours ago.”
Alma smirked but complied, washing her hair while Katiyana hurriedly soaped and rinsed. In the bedroom, she pulled on the first gown the girl flung at her.
Again, Alma raised her brow. “Really? You are not going to argue with me?”
She looked down at the ruby gown trimmed with forest green silk ribbons and pulled a face. “Are there room for my knives?”
“I am sure you will find room.”
Clean and dressed, with her hair in an infuriatingly tight knot, Katiyana made her way downstairs. There were many more servants than there had been and she recognized some of their colors. Several bowed as she rushed by and she flushed, unsure of what her response should be.
Finally she burst into the main room—then froze. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned to her, all friendly but all calculating. Lian stood from the head of the long table. “Ah, Princess Katiyana, please join us.” He gestured to the seat next to him, the only empty one.
Slowly she made her way to it, thinking of what she would say to him. To all of them.
As she sat, he spun a large map to face her. “The supporting kingdoms are here, here, here and here. The ones further out will travel first to largest one closest to them to join forces.”
