Untethered

by KayLynn Flanders

  “What?” I stood, sand cascading from my dress. The stuff was beautiful, but it got everywhere. “I absolutely am.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “He’s my father. I’ve come this far. I’m not about to sit back and wait around.” I stared him down and that tired look came back into his eyes. The one that pulled his shoulders toward the ground. “What if I go in disguised?” I asked. “What if Aleksa and I both come disguised as servants?”

  Both of Ren’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not the kind of king who brings two young women along with him to Riiga.”

  I held back a growl. He would not keep me from my father. “Then what if we go as boys?”

  A laugh bubbled up from deep inside him. Tears ran out the corners of his eyes from his effort to stay quiet. I pressed the toe of my boot deep into the sand. But still he laughed.

  Aleksa whacked his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Ren said between chuckles. I stuffed my cloak into my bag and looped the strap around my shoulder, across my chest. I bit my tongue—hard—to keep my eyes from welling with tears. I’d gotten all the way to Riiga. Come up with a plan to save my father. And he’d laughed.

  “Sorry.” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “It’s a good idea. It’s just…”

  “Just what?” I asked quietly, staring at his boots.

  “Hey, no.” He stepped toward me. I stepped away. “It’s just, no disguise could hide the fact that you are…not a boy.”

  Not a boy? It wasn’t a compliment, but it was better than his thinking my plan was bad. “That’s your only concern?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Well, yes. Neither of you look like boys.”

  Aleksa and I shared a smirk. I’d crossed half of Turia and climbed down the cliffs to get to my father. I could endure wearing trousers for a day if it meant saving my father.

  Ren groaned. “I have a feeling I am about to be proven wrong.” He sighed and gestured to the opening of the cave. “All right. Lead the way. Let’s see if your friend is willing to dress me up for a wedding.”

  Chiara

  The wind never stopped blowing here. It pounded into us as we walked the strip of sand that led from the cave, around the bend, through the brush and attempts at cultivation in the wider land, and into the city that clung to the side of the cliff.

  Each sinking step in the sand brought us closer to Vera—Janiis, Sennor, and my father. My plan was sound—if we could trust Sennor. I hadn’t set foot in the maze garden for months. Could I face him? Ask him for help?

  Beautiful old buildings leaned precariously against the cliffs. Oranges and pinks and reds and greens, splashes of color against the gray. White sand beaches spread along the base of the Plateau, deep blue waters crashing against them in a rhythm I could have watched all day.

  The warm sun burned off the last of the fog and warred with the salty wind. I could have stayed on the beach forever, but Aleksa led us on. Always on.

  Vera’s streets were lined with cobblestones, and twisted in ways I didn’t expect, up, down, and around, flowing with the land.

  It was only when you looked closer that you saw the cracks.

  The starving children peeking out from broken windows. Abandoned buildings. Ragged laundry strung up to dry between the narrow alleys. Signs of people barely surviving.

  No one paid attention to anyone else as they walked through the streets with quick, purposeful strides. But on closer inspection, I found I was wrong. They did notice us. They noticed everyone. They just looked like they kept to themselves.

  I brushed one of my braids over my shoulder, but the wind whipped it back. Aleksa had unwound my scarf from my head, braided my hair, and wrapped the scarf around my waist instead. She’d made Ren take off his vest and wear only his coat and tunic, and clasped my cloak over one shoulder instead of at my neck.

  Every step into the city tightened my stomach until I couldn’t draw a full breath. I didn’t know how much longer until we arrived, didn’t know how much longer I could take of not knowing.

  “Does the wind ever stop blowing?” Ren grumbled as we darted into another alley behind Aleksa.

  “Storm season is coming,” Aleksa said. “The city is in a cove and stays fairly well protected, but out there”—she shook her head—“the wind eats boats whole out there.”

  “How do you know this man again?” Ren asked quietly as we passed empty barrels with rotted lids.

  The words I’d buried months ago pressed up from my stomach. Could I say them? Ren held up a blanket from a laundry line so I could pass under, and I paused. He waited patiently, no sign of the flirting or charm or bravado I’d come to expect. He was just…Ren.

  I could give him a different story. That Sennor and I had danced and he’d stepped on my foot. But Ren had told me about his magic—its limitations—things that he’d never told anyone.

  I swallowed hard and wrapped the end of the scarf at my waist around and around my hand. “Lord Sennor attacked me back in Turia,” I said as I passed under his arm.

  I was four steps ahead when Ren caught up with me. “Sorry, did you say he attacked you?” His brows were furrowed so deep, a line creased between them.

  My quick steps led me forward until he rested a hand on my arm so lightly, so gently, I immediately stopped. His normally bright features darkened like thunder about to roll. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he was searching for words he couldn’t find.

  My insides quivered and my jaw trembled even though I wasn’t close to tears.

  “Can you…Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  Aleksa coughed from up ahead. “Stay close,” she called softly. I continued, and Ren fell into step beside me. All of this was for my father. I could do this.

  “He—” I swallowed. Remembered Ren’s confession. “He tried to kiss me. Jenna somehow figured out he was planning something bad and got there before he could do anything else.” I shook my head. The hand wrapped in my scarf was going numb. “She jumped over a hedge in the maze garden.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Those walls are at least a foot taller than I am.”

  “I know,” I said with a small smile. “She broke his arm and took out his guard. They found out afterward he’d been told I welcomed his advances, but…” I trailed off. Took a deep breath. Ren stayed silent. No jokes. His steps steady as we walked side by side. “He sent a letter two weeks ago.”

  Ren tucked his hands into his pockets. “What was in it?”

  I bit my lip. “I didn’t read it.”

  “You didn’t…” His chin tipped down until it hit his chest. “We can find another way into the palace.”

  I unwound my hand from the scarf as we caught up to Aleksa. “The first sentence was an apology. Then I realized the letter was from him and tossed the rest. But he went out of his way to send the letter, and we need help. It’s our best chance.”

  Aleksa pointed with her chin across the open square. “Sennor’s villa.”

  Ren glared at the three-story building with yellowed vines trailing over half of it. “If it wasn’t a sincere apology, I get to break his other arm?”

  I swallowed my nerves and straightened my shoulders. “No. But I do.”

  We waited behind Aleksa as she watched the square.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how much longer my courage would last.

  “Patrolling soldiers,” she answered. Ren watched the alley behind us. But then he slipped his hand around mine and held it.

  “You’re not alone,” he whispered.

  I wasn’t alone. And I was tired of being afraid.

  The orange door of Sennor’s villa loomed ahead. If this wasn’t the right choice, we’d have to change plans fast to keep the element of surprise. But I had to hope. It was all I had.

  “Let
’s go,” Aleksa whispered, and darted across the square.

  Ren and I followed her through a tiny alley to a side door. Aleksa tapped a fast rhythm against the old, water-damaged wood. A woman cracked the door open, glaring at us with suspicion until she caught sight of Aleksa. “What are you doing here, maza?” she asked, frowning even harder at Ren and me. “And in such company?”

  Aleksa touched her heart and bobbed her head. “We seek shelter for the afternoon. And an audience with the lord of the villa.”

  “I can offer you shelter,” the woman whispered, then ushered us in, through the warm kitchen to a tiny room off the pantry with overturned wooden buckets to sit on. She handed each of us a cup of warm tea with a hint of honey. I caught several servants in the kitchen craning their necks to see us. The woman shut the door and stood in front of it, her arms folded. “I am Inga. It is an honor to house you, Lady Aleksa.”

  Lady Aleksa? I coughed and sputtered through my mouthful of tea. Ren patted my back and glared at Aleksa, who grimaced. The servants hadn’t been itching for a glance at us but at her.

  “Sorry,” Ren interrupted with a smile meant to charm. “You two know each other?”

  Why hadn’t Aleksa said anything if she’d known Sennor’s servants? I set the cup down and folded my arms.

  “Oh no,” Inga said, a slight blush showing under the influence of Ren’s smile. “We’ve never met. But I know of her. We all do….” Aleksa’s head jerked back and forth, but Inga didn’t pick up quick enough. “Janiis’s heir?”

  I blew out a hard breath and leaned over my knees. Janiis’s heir?

  “What?” Ren practically yelled, and both Inga and Aleksa shushed him.

  Aleksa stood and touched Inga’s shoulder. “Do you feel Lord Sennor could be trusted with a favor for me and my friends?”

  I rubbed my forehead. At least she’d called us friends—she might be hard to read, but she didn’t say things she didn’t mean. Just layered them with hidden meanings.

  “Yes,” Inga replied, with a dark look for Ren and me. “He does not openly oppose Janiis to protect himself. He has cared for and protected all of his servants from Janiis’s edicts. I believe he could be approached. But I thought you’d left Riiga to petition our case to Turia?” She stepped closer to Aleksa and lowered her voice as though Ren and I wouldn’t be able to hear her. “Have these people forced you to return?”

  I rolled my eyes. Ren caught me and snorted. I kicked his leg.

  “No,” Aleksa replied with a glare for us. “My friends will help us. You must trust me on this.”

  And Inga did. She led us through the bustling kitchen filled with the sounds of people so accustomed to their duties they could carry on deep discussions while performing them.

  We went up a side stairway. The house didn’t flow like in Turia; it twisted in unexpected ways. Inga led us into a small sitting room on the east side of the house. Harsh light slanted through the small windows crusted with salt. Two armchairs and a sofa faced each other. I sat in a chair, leaving the sofa for Ren and Aleksa.

  “Who should I tell him is calling?” Inga asked once we were settled. She eyed my mud-stained dress and my posture and my ease in a sitting room. I regarded her right back, taking in her clothes and hair and the glint in her eye that wasn’t unkind, but definitely calculating.

  “Chiara,” I said quietly, my voice running away now that the moment was almost come.

  The house creaked and groaned as she left the room. My insides turned and flopped until they were a tangled mess. Sennor would come soon, and now Aleksa was Janiis’s heir?

  Ren glared at Aleksa. “Care to explain?”

  She leaned on her knees, rubbing her hands together. “I never wanted his blood in my veins. Never wanted the responsibility of cleaning up his messes. But I can help my family—my people—who suffer greatly.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked, my voice a little stronger now. Maybe focusing on Aleksa would help me face the next conversation. “Is it safe for you to be here?”

  Aleksa leaned back and crossed her arms tight as if she were an unraveling thread. “No safer than it is for you.” Yet she’d come anyway. “Janiis loved his wife. But when she died eighteen years ago, he broke. My mother was a servant in the palace at the time. He vowed to share his life with her. Claimed to love her.” She swallowed hard and glared at a bird stitched into the rug. “When she discovered how empty Janiis’s promises were, my mother escaped and married my true father soon after she had me, and they had two children. Her husband loved me like his own.”

  Ren stared at the same bird in the rug, though not as angrily. “Is he—”

  “He died last year. I didn’t think the soldiers would come for us, but the law states that if the king should die with no heir, the council rules until the closest relative who shares the bloodline is found. Janiis never claimed me, but everyone knows I am his daughter.” She shrugged and seemed to deflate a little. “So Janiis would, of course, remove any threat to his reign.”

  I studied my hands, rubbing my thumb over my knuckles again and again. Aleksa had taken a great risk coming back. “Thank you for helping us.”

  She nodded and pressed her hand to her shoulder. “Thank you for proving not all Turians had given up on us.”

  I had given up. But I’d never been so grateful to have been wrong about someone.

  Ren cleared his throat. “Do you want to inherit the kingdom?” He tilted his head and studied Aleksa, his hair falling across his brow.

  Her gaze fell to her hands again, clasped loosely in her lap. “I never wanted to”—she heaved a sigh—“but if it is the price I must pay for my family’s safety, I will do it.”

  Ren pressed his fist to his shoulder with a half smile of understanding.

  I waited to feel insignificant next to them, like I always did at home. But I didn’t. I had come all the way to Riiga. I was lounging in the sitting room of the man who’d ruined the maze gardens. Maybe it was because Ren and Aleksa treated me as an equal.

  One thing was certain—I was done being afraid. I didn’t want to be invisible anymore. Didn’t want to fit into someone’s idea of a “perfect princess.”

  The door clicked open. Sennor stepped inside, his brows furrowed so low his eyes were mostly hidden. I exhaled long and slow. I could do this. I would do this. But not for my father. For me.

  His gaze first landed on Ren, whose dark expression almost sent Sennor back into the hall. His eyes glanced over me and paused on Aleksa, before darting back to me. “Chiara?” he gasped. “I mean, Princess!” He sketched a short bow. Didn’t approach. “What are you doing here?” he asked slowly, marking my companions again, this time lingering on Aleksa. “Excuse my manners,” he tried again. “I meant, I hadn’t heard you were in Riiga.”

  I kept my expression serene, pretending my throat wasn’t half-closed and my heart wasn’t trying to beat a hole in my ribs. “That’s because you weren’t supposed to hear I was in Riiga.” I gestured to the chair next to me, proud when my hand trembled only a little. “Won’t you have a seat?”

  Sennor swallowed audibly, and a tiny part of me relished making him feel like a guest in his own home. “Inga said you want to speak with me?”

  He didn’t leer or lean in like in my nightmares. Instead, he sat far back in the chair, legs crossed, hands clasped tight—too tight—on his knee.

  “It’s about the letter,” I started, using everything my tutors had drilled into me to maintain my composure. It was the first time I was truly glad for the hours of etiquette lessons. “Did you mean what you wrote? That you’re sorry?”

  He shifted and gripped the armrest. His jaw flexed. “I was misled by several people as to what your motives were for meeting me in the garden, and the guard who accompanied us was not my normal man—he was there on Koranth’s orders. Not mine.” His top leg start
ed bouncing, and he continued, quieter now. “When you protested my advances, I panicked.” Ren growled, but I finally met Sennor’s eyes. “I truly am sorry for hurting you. For trusting the wrong people.” He rubbed his arm where Jenna had broken it. “It won’t happen again.”

  I breathed in deeply, and something that had been festering inside me lightened and left. I hadn’t realized the weight that I’d carried until it was gone. “Thank you for apologizing.” It would take time before I accepted that apology.

  Sennor stood with a nervous glance at Ren. “Now, if that’s all—”

  “Actually,” I said with a curt smile, “there is one other tiny thing.”

  He shifted, eyeing the door with longing. “Yes?”

  “We need to get into the palace tonight.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You’re a princess. They’d not deny you entrance.”

  I nodded. “I should have been more specific.” I tipped my head toward Ren. “He needs to get into the palace, arrayed like a king worthy of Janiis’s invitation.”

  Sennor’s jaw snapped open, then closed. Studied Ren again. “Is he a king?”

  Ren spread one arm along the back of the sofa. “Atháren, King of Hálendi, at your service.” Only, he said at your service like a threat.

  “Oh,” Sennor said, then swallowed hard.

  “I heard you met my sister,” Ren said. “She’s the nicer one.”

  Sennor paled, and I stepped in before Ren went too far. We needed Sennor’s help, not his fear.

  “Listen,” I said, “I won’t try to threaten you or demand any favors.” Aleksa frowned at that. I didn’t care. “We need your help. The fate of the Plateau hangs in the balance, and we need to get Ren into the palace safely, with enough fanfare to impress even Janiis’s court. And, if you can manage it, help Aleksa and me with disguises.” The house creaked in the never-ending wind. Sennor frowned at that same bird in the rug, but Ren was grinning at me like I’d returned his stolen horse. I ignored him and focused on Sennor. “Will you help us?”

  Sennor clasped his hands behind his back. “You shouldn’t go near the palace.”