by Janeal Falor
I breathe a sigh of relief and shrug. “It may have been. She wouldn’t be able to accompany you on your voyages, though. In fact, few elves would be willing to travel with humans, anyway. Humans are always antagonizing the elves.”
“We humans do no more than the elves. They themselves bicker. I’ve heard many complaints about it through the years. The barrel incident is a perfect example of this.”
“The barrel incident. That was nothing. I still remember how a merchant ship full of humans acted a few years ago in Amara. And the boar fiasco is not something elves will easily forget.”
He chuckles and then sobers up. “Humans can’t be judged from just that. Why don’t elves understand it?”
I frown. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. There’s too much judging happening on both sides. Plus, there’s no communication between races. I believe we are a lot more like humans than anyone realizes.”
His forehead wrinkles. “We?”
I have to consider my words more carefully when around him. “Sorry. I guess I’ve spent too much time being with elves. I feel like I’m almost one of them.”
His eyes twinkle merrily. “You certainly look pretty enough to be one of them.”
“Robert, I already informed you I’m promised to another,” I say, flustered though secretly pleased.
Straightening his back, Robert resumes the pose of a gentleman. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. Please forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.”
Our words don’t match our actions, as we stay close enough to feel the other’s breath.
Stewart speaks loudly to the side of us, breaking through Robert’s hold on me. The two elves who have been accompanying us are with him. “These elves will be returning to town. They’ll alert the guards that there has been a pirate about. Hopefully, there will be no trouble for them.”
With the realization that everyone is staring at the two of us, my blush deepens, and I turn my face to the ground. Robert shifts toward the elves and moves to shake their hands in the human custom. Out of the corner of my eye, I see their foreheads wrinkle in confusion at the proffered hand, until Robert takes each of their hands in turn to shake them. “Thank you again, my good sirs,” he says.
“Yes. Thank you.” Stewart sounds distracted.
“Glad we could be of service,” one of them says.
The two elves turn back in the direction they came and leave into the shadows of the night. Robert moves to help the group pick up camp, but I stand still, watching him.
Constance appears next to me, blocking my view. I try to keep myself from looking too guilty.
“Arabella,” she whispers, “best be careful what you are thinking on. I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other, as did the rest of the group. You are to be married soon. This behavior won’t be tolerated.” Constance snaps back to the working group.
The reprimand stings as Constance goes back to the working group. My face flushes, but this time it’s with guilt and anger instead of embarrassment. She’s right. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I tell myself that, though. Robert still enters my thoughts. Worse yet, my reaction is a reflex, one not easily reined in. It would be best for me to avoid him the rest of the trip.
I scoff at myself. Like that’s something I can do.
Just then, I realize Abner is looking at me with an ugly sneer. Camp is packed up, and I did nothing to help—again. That’s probably what the look was for. His personality is much more suited to Captain Smythe’s pirate ship than to Robert. How are the two of them friends?
The continued glare sends a shiver thought me. Abner is a perfect example of why elves and humans don’t get along. He judged us from the moment he saw us, never allowing for a chance to get to know anyone. His anger is even directed at me, though he thinks I’m human.
Don’t many elves have the same attitude toward humans, though? I should be more open-minded to having him in our group, instead of ignoring him outright. I head over to the others, trying to keep both things in mind.
Though only the moon and stars give out light, it’s time to get moving toward Amara. I wince, thinking of my abused body. It will be four days—four long days—before we reach Amara. Exhaustion overwhelms me, but there is nothing to be done but walk. And walk. And walk. It doesn’t matter. Soon, I’ll be back to my life as a betrothed princess, and Robert will be out of my life.
Chapter
Eighteen
As I cross into Amara, my feelings are a jumbled mess. I’m glad to be home, but uncertain about what waits for me there. The last four nights of travel remained uneventful. The forest changed to desert on the first night after the pirate’s escape. We decided to sleep during the day and walk at night, so we could maintain a faster pace out of the heat. It was easier after getting some sleep and avoiding the heat, though my body still aches.
The nights, though pleasantly cool, were dull. My resolve to stay away from Robert didn’t last. By the second night, I was ready to give in and talk to him. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—Constance’s hawk-like gaze made any close proximity to Robert improbable, and the chances of talking to him were nil. We walked in the same group but as separated as we could be.
The bond between us is unaffected by the distance, and I am aware of his every move. The feelings pulsing through me are wonderful and frightening at the same time.
All through the second night, I kept fearing Captain Smythe would appear and thwart our journey home. Every noise would send me glancing, darting for danger. Jocelyn would do the same, most times grabbing on to me when she was startled. When we began walking on the third night, my fear lessened. The pirates wouldn’t know the exact route we took and would be unable to follow us. Frustration replaced my fear of them. I’ve never been angry with Constance before, and it left me feeling guilty. I shouldn’t be angry with her because she is just trying to help. I couldn’t help myself, though.
By the time we set off the fourth night, my anger fled. I grew more morose with every step. Fatigue hit me full force, and each lift of my legs burned my muscles. My lungs didn’t seem capable of holding enough oxygen to satisfy me. The only thing not tired or painful was the warming bond between me and Robert. It coursed through me, giving me energy to take each heavy step. I focused on it to pull me through the night as desert changed to forest again.
I sigh now, unsure if it is a happy sigh or a sad one. We are within sight of the castle, and I know our bond will soon be broken. It isn’t something I want to happen, but since it must, it’s best to get it over with.
When we leave the forest, we stand on a hill greeted by the west side of the castle, overlooking the city below. Seeing the castle that’s been my home my entire life eases my heart a little.
The castle glows by the light of the countless torches’ light on the foliage-laden paths leading to it. The outer walls are also lit by torches, and light shines through the curtained windows. The gray stones that make up the walls are covered with green ivy.
The main entrance is tall enough for four men standing on each other’s shoulders and wide enough for their group to pass through, shoulders touching. The iron gate that covers the entrance glistens in the light. Seeing it unguarded brings a chill to my heart. There should be at least two guards on either side.
The castle looms over us as we walk closer. Four towers grace the front—two in the middle close to the entrance and one on each side. Knowing my bed lies in one of those towers makes me quicken my steps.
While we move across the front, I glance down the hill at the still-sleeping city below. A few lights twinkle through the vast city until it runs into the sea. The docks hold several large ships, but as far as I can tell, no elves are about at this hour. The briny sea smell wafts toward us and holds the comfort of home.
With my human form still donned and my cloak over my head, I follow our small group toward t
he servants’ entrance of the castle, which I’ve never used before. We walk across the grassy plain to get there, my pulse jumping higher with each step. Only one person can fit through the entrance at a time. As we go through it and down the hall, I take note on how to get to my room. Constance leads us through several halls that all look the same, so I resort to counting them. As soon as we come across a servant, Constance bids him to follow.
“I need to tell the king and queen that you’ve been found,” he whispers.
“We’ve had problems with coming home. I’ll send you or someone for them shortly, but not until I’m certain the princess is secure,” Constance replies.
“I’ll follow you as long as it’s quick.”
“Fair enough.”
We twist our way through the serpentine hallways to my suite and enter a concealed passage in the washroom. I move from there to my adjoined bedroom and smile at the familiar site. I can’t help the wash of joy that comes over me and the tears that accompanies it. Never did I think I’d be so glad to see my room. The others lag behind as I hurry forward.
Next to me, a small closed door leads to my garment room. My bookshelf is still in the corner, overflowing. A round table is in front of it, with more books piled on top. I run my hands across them; I’ve missed the escape they offer. Across from us is a soft red chair and round table in front of an unlit fireplace.
The opposite wall is what really catches my attention. On both sides of the bed are tall, skinny windows, covered with deep red curtains. The enormous bed is in the middle, its four tall posts connected with a white drapery. The whispery cotton blankets beckon to me, begging me to dive into them and sleep for the next week, but the rest of the group slips in the room. No doubt Robert and Abner would think it odd if I curled up on a bed, in a room such as this.
Constance calls to the servant she asked to join us. “Will you please see these two gentlemen to a room? They will need to clean up and rest for the night before they leave. Quickly now, before the princess arrives. Stewart will inform the king and queen of our arrival.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.
Stewart turns to Robert and Abner. “Thank you for coming with us. I don’t know what would have happened to us without your presence. I’m sorry that you were hurt. A healer will be sent to you shortly. I’m only sorry we were unable to heal your wounds sooner.”
“They aren’t much, but we would appreciate it,” Robert responds.
Abner jumps into the conversation, hostility edging his words. “Don’t allow them to touch you. I know I won’t let them use their black magic on me. You don’t know what ill effects it will bring.”
Robert spins on Abner, jaw clenching. “I’m very well aware of what comes with their magic. You best mind your tongue. When we left, you were warned that you had to respect these elves. That still holds now. They are trying to help. No harm will come upon us from them.”
Abner’s face flushes while he looks at the floor. He curls his fists into balls but says nothing further.
“I’m sorry for his behavior. I fear too many rumors have met his ears,” Robert says.
“There’s no need to apologize for him.” Constance moves to him. She grabs a hold of both of his shoulders and pulls them in for a hug. What surprises me more is that tears are forming in her eyes. “We would have lost Adelei without you. I couldn’t bear it if we did, and for that I thank you,” she says.
Robert grasps both of her hands and kisses them. “The pleasure was all mine. Emeline. Jocelyn. Adelei.” He looks at each of us in turn as he bids farewell.
His gaze lingers on me, but what can we possibly do about it? As much as I ache to throw myself in his arms and never leave their protection again, it simply can’t be. It takes all the force of will I have left to keep from chasing after him when he leaves with Abner.
Stewart clears his throat, pulling my attention back to those still within my rooms. “My lady, if you wish to get cleaned up, I will inform the king and queen you have returned unharmed.” He bows and leaves the room before I can reply.
“Finally.” I give a sigh of relief. “I’m ready to be myself again.”
I close my eyes. The tingling magic starts in my chest, moves to my head, and is followed by a stinging pain in my eyes, cheeks, and ears. I let out a cry and then a sigh and sit on one of the chairs by the bookcases. I lean my head against the chair’s high back. Pure bliss. My limbs are heavy and limp. My mind goes mercifully blank. Until—that is—I realize how silent the room is.
I open my eyes to find Emeline, Jocelyn, and Constance staring at me, their expressions unreadable—except for Jocelyn’s expression, which borders on shock. Unease pricks at me, making me sit up straighter. I’ve slouched before around them, so that shouldn’t be it, but I straighten as best I can anyway. There’s no sign of anything unusual when I check my clothes, save for the grime. It could be that they’re appalled at seeing me on the clean chair in such a fashion, but I’m not sorry.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Constance is the first to snap out of it. “Nothing of importance. We’re all tired after our journey. It’ll all be better after a goodnight’s sleep. Let’s get moving, so you can meet with your parents and get some rest.”
I narrow my eyes at Jocelyn and Emeline, who are looking everywhere but at me. “Are you certain nothing is wrong?” I ask.
“Like I said, nothing of importance. We will worry about it later,” Constance replies.
Maybe it is just dirty me on the clean chair or bruises from the fight with the pirate.
Constance continues. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Girls, go put the rest of the bags away and come back here to help.”
I watch the girls depart, feeling a pang of guilt at their having to work still after the strain we’ve all been under. Constance moves to the table next to me and places the only remaining bag on it beside some books. She unties the brown strings, and the bag falls open. She pulls out several articles of clothing, then gently pulls out the scroll I stumbled across.
“I’ll be right back. I just want to get this in good hands before things get crazy.”
That perks my curiosity. “Andries is here in Amara?”
“No, but I have a contact who’ll know how to find him. Don’t you worry about it, dear. Just rest.”
I watch her leave the room, then can’t help but slump back into the chair, closing my eyes again. This time, though, my mind doesn’t stay blank. The expression on their faces makes my stomach twist in knots. Though it’s been a while since we last ate, any appetite I had before is gone. The sick feeling creeps from my stomach to my throat.
Padding feet shuffle in the washroom, indicating Constance’s return. The sound of water pouring into the bathtub calls to my filthy, aching body. Forcing the unease back down, I pull up out of the chair. My eyelids are heavy as I stumble over to the washroom. Constance stands by an almost full bathtub, ready for me. Jocelyn and Emeline return, laden with soaps, perfumes, and towels.
Once in, I insist the others get cleaned up. Constance refuses, but after a few feeble protests, Emeline and Jocelyn leave the way they came.
The warm water on my skin and the familiar perfume-scented water soothe my aching body. When the water grows cold, I get out and move to dress myself.
“My lady, let me help you with that.” Emeline startles me. There was no noise when she entered. I was used to my servants coming and going without noise, but after being gone so long, it’s almost like another world to be back here.
“You were quick to get ready,” I say.
She gives me a timid smile. “I wanted to help you.”
My heart warms, though she’s still not looking at me. I’m making some headway with my more reserved servant. “I’m glad to have your help. Thank you,” I say.
By the time I’m ready to face my parents, Jocelyn returns,
looking refreshed. They all keep their gazes down since returning. Maybe it wasn’t just me sitting on the chair.
We move to my personal sitting room. It’s larger than my bedroom. The couch I sit on faces a wall with two doors on either side. Across from me are two chairs with a small refreshment table between them. A low, wooden walnut table is placed between the couch and chairs. Usually flowers or fruit are placed on the table, but now it’s empty.
On the outside edges of the room are more chairs with little round seats and oval backs. A grand picture hangs on the west wall above the line of chairs, reflecting an exact duplicate picture that hangs on the east side of the room above a fireplace. Someone had lit a fire in anticipation of meeting with my parents here.
I don’t know if my parents want me leaving my rooms if I’m supposed to be kidnapped. It’s strange to think about what others must think is going on with me at this very moment. I watch the flames flicker and dance, casting strange patterns across the bricks surrounding them. After a few more minutes of my thoughts growing increasingly uneasy, a knock sounds.
Stewart enters. “My Lady Arabella, I present Their Royal Majesties King Sterling and Queen Pernilla, accompanied by Lord Octavian and his assistant Reginald.”
The four enter formally, like they’re being presented to a subject instead of a long lost heir to the throne. It’s not unexpected, but the coldness leaves me wanting more than it ever has before. I sit stiff on my chair, trying not to give away my feelings.
Mother comes first, her slender white neck held straight, head high and proud. Her white face has been painted with crushed leaves and berries that make her cheeks rosy and lips a deep red. Her black hair is twisted into an elaborate knot on the back of her head. Something sparkly dances on the edges of her thinly pointed elven ear. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her latest fashion and wonder how the sparkles were made.
