by L. Danvers
She tugged at her father’s sleeve, determined to tell him how she felt about this arrangement, but he shot her a scowl so stern that she froze there on the spot. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in and whispered, “It has already been decided, Daphne. You have proven yourself incapable of making responsible decisions. Being as such, you left me with no choice. Sir Hartley will do just fine.”
No choice? No choice?! She was the one with no choice. She wasn’t about to back down. This wasn’t some small decision they were bickering over, this was her life. “I don’t want fine, Father. I don’t love him.”
“What does love have to do with anything?”
She was horrified that he would say such a thing. She fought back tears and said, “Didn’t you love Mother?”
Daphne had never seen him look so angry. They never spoke of her mother. The memory of losing her was too painful for the king. He became aware of the hundreds of eyes watching them. The whispers grew louder. Sir Hartley stood beside Daphne, his jaw set and fists clenched. Phillip was on her other side, just standing there. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t jumping in to stand up for her. After all she had done for him, he couldn’t back her up on this? She knew he was one to blindly follow rules, but she felt like he owed it to her to speak up and defend her.
She folded her arms and glared at her father. “What if I’ve already chosen a husband?”
“And who might that be?”
She shifted her feet and looked over to Gregory, who was still on the dance floor. When the king saw the young man she was looking at, he huffed and said, “Daphne, you foolish girl. This is exactly what I’m talking about. Irresponsible decisions. Think of what people would say. You can’t marry him.”
“Watch me.”
She took off running. She clutched the fabric of her emerald gown to keep from tripping, and she ran as fast as she could. Her father shouted her name, but she didn’t look back. She dodged out of the way of servants’ trays and stray chairs. Guests stood there, motionless, with wide eyes and hung jaws. Phillip must have been thinking how unprincesslike she was behaving, but his opinion didn’t matter to her anymore. None of it did. All that mattered was getting to Gregory, and getting out of there as fast as possible.
Gregory was confused, but the closer she got to him, the more he understood. His eyes swirled like they had the night they met. When she finally reached him, he took her hand in his, and together they fled. They hurried out of the banquet hall. After facing beasts, bandits and giants together, evading two guards was child’s play.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as they ran through the empty castle halls. “Think of what you’re giving up.”
“A life without you? I think I’ll manage.”
The guards chased them, but Gregory and Daphne were faster. Their polished armor clanked with each stride they took, so it was easy to guess how much distance there was between them. There was a gentle breeze, which did little to lessen the fire within Daphne. The air smelled of stone and straw, and she wouldn’t miss it one bit.
She hardly had time to let what they were doing sink in before they reached the stable. She was thankful everyone was at the banquet. There was no one to stop them or slow them down. They saddled two horses, and together, they rode off into the night. The drawbridge was lowered, as was customary during times of celebration so that noblemen and women from across the realm could join in on the festivities even if they were late. The clanking of the guards’ armor faded in the distance. Part of Daphne wondered why they weren’t trying harder to catch up with them, but the other part of her knew. Deep down, her father was glad to have her gone.
Her nostrils flared as she drew in the sweet scent of freedom. Their horses carried them up and over the wildflower-covered hills. She never thought she’d be so glad to see the silver forest. The prickly branches once exuded a sense of danger, but now she saw them as protection. This would be her home now.
By the time they crested the second hill, her heart once again beat at a steady pace, and she could breathe. She glanced back, feeling torn about her father not sending his men after them.
“I can’t believe I just helped you run away,” Gregory said as he rode beside her.
“It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“But your father, your brother... Think of what—”
“Father isn’t concerned about me. He only cares about the embarrassment I’ve caused him. And as for Phillip...” She shook her head. “I know he loves me, but he was too worried about looking good in front of Father to stand up for me.”
“Do you think Lillian will be alright?” Gregory asked as his horse galloped beside hers.
Daphne was overcome with guilt. She hadn’t thought about Lillian. She left without saying goodbye. She was an awful friend. Knowing Lillian would understand why she had left made her feel even worse.
They continued their journey into the night, up and over the hills, making their way to the fabled forest. The closer they got, though, the more something bothered Daphne. She weighed whether asking was worth it. It didn’t matter. She had already run away with him. There was no going back now. But still, she had to know. “Why didn’t you tell me Sir Hartley was your brother?”
“When I heard you and Lillian talking about suitors, I never once thought that could have been my brother you were speaking of. Hartley isn’t all that uncommon of a name, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t been knighted. Though admittedly, it has been many years since I’ve heard how my family was doing. Looking back on it, I should have expected as much. God—he’s chief advisor? That’s a scary thought. Hartley was always power-hungry—eager to find a way to make something of himself. That was one of the reasons I left home. I wasn’t like my mother or brother. Wealth didn’t matter to me like it did to them. Sure, it would have been nice not to worry about where the next meal was coming from, but that’s part of life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just because the cards are stacked against you doesn’t make it alright to step on others on your way to the top.” Gregory scratched his neck and sighed. “I shouldn’t burden you with this. You have enough on your mind already.”
“None of that matters now. We’re together. That’s what matters.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gregory helped her off of the horse and rested his head against hers. His hands hugged her hips, and she held him tight. She was struck by how handsome he looked splashed in the moonlight. It was still strange seeing him dressed up, but despite how awkward he felt in them, fine clothes suited him well. He leaned in and was just about to kiss her when he pulled away and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong?” She laughed. “No. For the first time, everything feels right.”
He pressed his lips together. His eyes shifted about. He was searching for something. Daphne looked around, wondering what he could be looking for in the silver forest. She worried he’d heard something she hadn’t. That maybe an atrocitas had howled in the distance. She realized then that she was without a sword. Light of Vengeance was back at the castle.
“Wait here,” Gregory said.
Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t figure out what was happening. She hadn’t heard as much as a bird chirping around them. What could he be looking for? He inched through the moss. He stared at the ground, searching for something. He knelt and plucked something out of the ground. He stayed there, kneeling, facing away from her.
“Gregory?”
“One... more... moment. Ah. Perfect.” He turned around, still on bended knee. “Do you know what this is?”
She shook her head as she walked toward him.
“It’s a walwhisp flower.” He held it out for her to see. Most of the petals were pinched between his fingers, but she could see curly, silver strands peeking out from his fingertips. Tiny blue petals fanned out before her. “They’re incredibly rare. The blossoms only open in the moonlight. They’re said to be signs of good fort
une.”
“They’re lovely.”
He slid his fingers down the flower, and she could see he had fashioned the stem into a loop. Her knees went weak when she realized what he was doing.
“Daphne,” he said, holding the makeshift ring out in front of her. “Would you do me the tremendous honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears raced down her cheeks. She chewed her bottom lip and said yes. She held out her hand, and he slipped on the ring.
“I know it’s not much,” he said, holding her hand in his.
“It’s perfect. I’ve grown up having everything I could have ever wanted. But you were right in what you said back when we were sailing the Acerbus Sea. I needed you. Not in the sense that I can’t live without you, but in the sense that I don’t want to. I love you, Gregory.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed the back of her hand, and his lips moved up her arm, across her shoulder and up her neck. A chill swept across her body, and she cupped his clean-shaven face in her hands and kissed him. He kissed like he lived. With passion. His strong hands slipped down her back, exploring every curve. Her fingers trailed down along his collarbone and down his chest. Their lips lingered there, stealing kiss after kiss.
They rode for camp at daybreak, smiling and laughing together the whole way. They passed the time by making plans and dreaming of their future together. It was midday by the time they reached camp. Storm clouds had rolled in, and all it took was one tremendous clap for the rain to begin to fall. They were soaked, but they didn’t mind. They were together.
Thomas and Merek were the first to spot them. They ran to them, looking both relieved and bewildered.
“What’s the princess doing here?” Merek asked.
“More importantly,” a black-bearded man boomed as he came up behind their two friends. Daphne recognized the unsettling way in which he curled his lips. He was Baudwin, the man who had protested Gregory and the others joining Lillian and Daphne on their quest. He folded his arms and gave a scowl, then continued, “Where’s the money?”
“The plans have changed, my friends.”
Thomas and Merek exchanged uneasy glances while Baudwin’s face turned as red as wine. The other men from the camp crept closer to listen to what Gregory had to say. Gregory hopped from his horse, walked over beside Daphne and offered her his hand. They stood there, together, his fingers interlocked with hers.
“We’re getting married,” he said. He laughed at the baffled look on his friends’ faces.
But Baudwin didn’t look baffled. He looked furious. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw was set and even though his arms were crossed, Daphne could tell his hands were balled into fists. He took a step closer to them, and she could feel the hatred radiating from him. “You mean to tell me that instead of coming back with silver, you came back with another mouth for us to feed?”
“She is more than just another mouth to feed, Baudwin. You would be wise to choose your words more carefully.”
Daphne flinched as Baudwin spat in her direction.
Gregory stepped forward. “Baudwin, whether you like it or not, she’s one of us now.”
His lip curled, again revealing his jagged, yellowed teeth. “I don’t like it one bit.”
“Then leave.”
Baudwin’s eyes were wide with fury. He looked to his fellow outlaws, expecting them to confirm that he was right in his frustration, but no one said a word. Some of the outlaws shifted their focus back and forth between him and Gregory, while others avoided looking at them both. Daphne felt awful that she was causing a rift among the men. She didn’t want any trouble.
Thomas and Merek came and stood by their side. And, one by one, the rest of the men did the same. The rest of them, aside from Baudwin. He stood there, the veins in his skull turning purple and blue.
“This is your choice, then?” Baudwin shouted over the rain. No one answered. He huffed and stormed to one of the tents. Everyone watched in silence, wondering what he was about to do. Moments later, he emerged from the tent with a bag of his belongings slung over his broad shoulders. “I hope it’s a choice you can live with.”
With that, he stormed off, disappearing deep into the silver forest.
Gregory wiped his hands against one another. “Now that that’s settled,” he said, “we have a wedding to plan.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Daphne extended her arms in the air, slipping the whimsical white gown over her head. She had decided it was best not to ask the men how they’d acquired such a thing. Her fingers traced the fabric of the plunging neckline. When her eyes met her reflection in the rusted mirror, she noticed how the sleeves cascaded over her shoulders like the wings of a dove. She adjusted her crown of wildflowers, which somehow suited her far better than the clunky jeweled crowns she was accustomed to. She had packed away the crown she had been wearing when she arrived at the camp. There was no need for it here. She didn’t want to stand beside Gregory as his princess. She wanted to stand beside him as his equal. Today, they weren’t a princess and an outlaw. They were a man and a woman, in love.
The fabric of the tent door drew open, and Merek asked if he could enter. She invited him in, and when he saw her, for the first time since they met, he was at a loss for words. He cleared his throat and muttered, “You look beautiful.”
She smiled and thanked him. He came over and wrapped his lanky arms around her and whispered, “It’s time.” He pulled away and offered her his arm, and she took it. He pulled back the canvas tent flap and held it open while she walked through. She squinted to block out the sun. A melodic tune echoed off the trees around them. One of Gregory’s friends had a talent for music and had offered to play for them. Through tears caused by the blinding sun, she saw Gregory standing before her. She squeezed Merek’s arm tighter as the two of them glided toward him. It was funny. For so long she had dreaded her wedding day, fearing it would have represented succumbing to a life of misery. But the day had come, and she was happier than she’d ever thought possible.
She walked toward the man she loved, and it felt like time itself had come to a halt. The way he looked at her took her breath away. He looked like a dream. He wore the same black tunic Phillip had let him borrow. His brown hair was short but unkempt. And even though his face had grown stubbled in the days since they had arrived at camp, she liked him better that way. His lips parted as she drew closer, and he smiled a smile so warm it melted her heart.
She took Gregory’s hands after parting with Merek, and she stood beside him. He looked her up and down and shook his head, smiling in disbelief.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she whispered.
“It was worth the wait,” he said. “You look stunning.”
Borin, the outlaw who had captured Lillian and the princess what felt like a lifetime ago, leaned into them and asked, “Are you ready?”
They nodded, smiling at each other. It amused them watching Borin trying to look so proper. He had brushed and braided his long, red beard for the occasion. He took his job as officiant seriously. He’d had the other men help him come up with a script to read from, and he had written his part out on parchment over and over again until he had memorized every word. Daphne had heard him practicing with the other men more than once, and she found his desire to do his best for Gregory endearing.
Borin stretched his arms out to the group and said, “We are gathered here to celebrate the most unlikely of unions. Gregory and Daphne have invited you here today to witness the uniting of their souls. We are all honored to be here to watch the beginning of their happily ever after unfold. Gregory, would you like to share your vows at this time?”
Gregory wore a wide smile. It took everything Daphne had not to go ahead and kiss him. “Daphne, from the moment I met you, I knew there was something magical about you. I tried to keep my distance from you, for fear of getting too close, but there was no hiding our connection. You're my perfect match in every way. Rebellious. Fierce. Quite impressive with a sword. Bef
ore I met you, I didn't even know women like you existed in this world. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you. I vow to love you. To honor you. To cherish you. You will always be my princess.”
“Daphne?” Borin prodded.
Daphne let out a deep breath to calm her beating heart. She had gone over what she wanted to say so many times, but the words escaped her. She couldn’t believe how everything had fallen into place so perfectly. She gathered her thoughts, and she came up with the best she could on the spot. “Gregory, my whole life I have questioned fate. I thought I could control it, bend it. But I was wrong. Everything unfolds as it's meant to. I would never have guessed in a hundred years that leaving the castle would lead me to you. My heart. Gregory...”
Her words were cut short by the stomping of hooves.
Two men in polished armor rode toward them. One was bigger than any knight Daphne knew, and when he reached them, she knew why. It was Baudwin. He had betrayed them.
Gregory saw him, too, and he started toward him, but Daphne pulled him back, silently pleading with him not to cause any more trouble. It crossed her mind that Baudwin and the other knight had come to arrest Gregory and force her to return to the castle. But on the other horse sat Sir Walter, and Daphne knew him well enough to know something was wrong. There was pain in his eyes, and he avoided looking at the princess even as he dismounted his horse and walked toward her and Gregory.
“What is it, Sir Walter?”
“My apologies for interrupting this, uh...” He looked around, and it dawned on him that they were in the middle of getting married. He scratched the back of his head and continued, “...ceremony. But I assure you this is a matter of the utmost importance.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure you want me to say here in front of everyone.”
“Please. You may speak freely.”
“My princess, I bring news from the castle.”
“Yes? Get on with it, Sir Walter.”
