Queen in Exile

by Donna Hatch

  Captain Tarvok appeared at Kai’s side. “If you’ve finished humiliating my men, shall we go shout for our noonday meal?”

  Kai wiped his sleeve across his forehead, looking up at the sun directly overhead. “Yes. A fine idea.” He turned to the men. “Dismissed!”

  As their squires took their gear, Kai clapped Romand on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, come early and I’ll work with you alone before the other men arrive.”

  Romand’s grin nearly split his face in half. “Yes, sir!” He trotted off.

  Kai walked beside Tarvok to the dining hall in the barracks. Inside the warm, dimly lit dining hall, fragrant food smells mingled with the pungent odor of bodies. Serving maids scurried to bring the hungry men plates of steaming food. A dark-haired girl caught the corner of Kai’s eye. His heart leaped into his throat until he realized that she was not the one who had haunted his dreams.

  He shook his head. Of course not. The breathtaking nymph in the woods he had seen on his way to the castle of Arden would barely be mistaken for a mortal, much less a serving girl. He remembered the way the sunlight shimmered in her dark brown ringlets, the depth of her enormous gray eyes, the flawless ivory complexion, the full lips that promised the kiss of eternal joy . . . or madness. At first he thought she was one of the fairy folk said to populate the woodlands. Then she had looked upon him with scorn and spoken biting, angry words.

  He thought he’d glimpsed her in the castle dining hall the night he arrived during the welcoming ceremony, but she’d disappeared in the crowd. Perhaps his obsession had contrived that vision.

  He resisted the urge to look out the door toward the road. He had no time to go on foolish rides through the woodland roads in the hopes that the ethereal maiden would show herself to him again and give him a chance to apologize, or at least to explain, to smooth away the tragic look in her eyes when she informed him that he had taken an innocent life.

  It didn’t matter. He was here to train the knights of Arden, not pine after a vision he would unlikely see again, except in his dreams.

  After eating, Kai returned to the training arena, where he planned to meet with Prince Aven. In his place stood a messenger.

  “Captain Darkwood. Prince Aven sends his regrets but he is unable to meet with you this afternoon due to a conference with the ambassadors.”

  Kai nodded. “Very well.” Perhaps he should find Romand and train him now instead of waiting until tomorrow. He’d spent so much time with the knights since he’d arrived, that he hadn’t given his squire as much personal attention as he liked. Kai left the training arena and headed for the barracks, passing the stairs to the main castle doors.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure descending the stairs and halted. He stood frozen in place, his heart pounding so hard he suspected everyone in the castle could hear it.

  A young lady whose beauty rivaled the fairies of the Black Forest in Darbor stood at the top of the castle steps. She shimmered in the sunlight, her face glowing in ethereal splendor. Pure and untouched, she clasped together her small, white hands, which clearly knew nothing of human drudgery.

  She looked so different today that it took him a moment to recognize her as the girl from the forest. Had it only been nine days ago? He wondered how he could have lived and worked in the castle for nine days and never encounter her. Hardly daring to breathe, he gazed upon her.

  The first time he’d seen her, she’d been tear-streaked and disheveled, but fearlessly facing a beast that would have challenged the courage of any knight in Darbor. Today, every dark hair was plaited and woven with threads of gold and pearl. She wore a white gown, meticulously embroidered with gold designs, and long, tightly fitted sleeves with outer sleeves cut wide enough at the underside to almost sweep the ground.

  As he watched her regally descend the stairway, he realized her identity and almost smacked his own forehead. Tales of the unsurpassed beauty of Arden’s princess circulated the countryside and had even reached Darbor. According to rumor, the sight of her struck awe in the heart of every man—nobleman or peasant— who laid eyes on her. Even Captain Tarvok had warned Kai that the princess possessed disconcerting beauty, but Kai had rested safe in his belief that either the tales were grossly exaggerated, or that he would be an exception. He was wrong on both counts.

  Thunderstruck, Kai stood frozen. Their last meeting had been a disaster. She might be angry and refuse to speak to him. Or worse, a thoughtless word from him could send her straight to the king to relay the tale and demand that he be sent back to Darbor in dishonor. How important were these chayims to Ardeenes?

  Kai knew he should leave but found it difficult to obey his better judgment. Overwhelmed by her beauty and desperate to atone for his rash act in the woods, he stood caught in an appalling state of indecision, gazing upon her and knowing he would never use the word “beautiful” lightly again.

  Apparently sensing his stare, the princess lifted her head. Those bewitching gray eyes fixed upon him and one brow rose. She continued descending the stairs in queenly elegance.

  Kai moved toward her. The whole situation was preposterous. Kai seldom found himself at a loss for words. Beautiful or not, she was still just a girl.

  But as his eyes locked with hers, he realized that this was not an ordinary young lady. Beyond her astonishing beauty, something in her eyes challenged his resolve. The unexplainable feeling that his life was about to become intertwined with hers, and that it would be forever changed, struck him with such force that he had to call upon all his courage to refrain from bolting.

  First recognition then displeasure overcame her features. “Captain Darkwood,” she acknowledged with an edge to her voice.

  Attempting to gather his scattered wits, he bowed. “Your Highness.”

  She came down the final step and approached. “I assure you, I’m in no danger. No innocent animals to kill here.”

  Kai forced himself to not wince, to keep his hands open and at his side with the mantra “Never show emotion to an opponent” running through his thoughts. Apologizing while maintaining dignity had never been easy.

  “I hope you will forgive me for my actions in the forest. I’ve never heard of a chayim, and had no idea an animal that large and dangerous looking would be anything but . . . dangerous. I wouldn’t have acted as I did if I had known. I deeply regret my misunderstanding of the situation. And my actions. And the distress I caused you.” He fell silent when he realized he was babbling, and he cursed the fluttering in his stomach.

  She remained silent, her gaze fixed impassively upon him. She was so tiny that her head barely reached the middle of his chest, and so finely wrought that she might have been a fairy. Two knights hovered nearby, yet distant enough that they would not overhear any conversation. Guards, apparently. With satisfaction, he recognized two of the more skilled knights, Breneg and Ciath. Mentally, he saluted Captain Tarvok. If Kai had handpicked guards for a member of the royal family, this pair would undoubtedly be among them.

  The princess watched him coolly, her chin lifting. “I’m sure that after all your training as a warrior, your first impulse is to kill. Perhaps you simply cannot resist.” Her incisive words cut through him as deep as her accusing stare.

  Kai kept his tone deferential. “My first impulse is to defend those in danger. I do not lurk about waiting for an opportunity to kill.”

  Those disturbing eyes remained fixed upon him as if trying to determine his sincerity. At last, she said, “I believe your motives were pure, if not your methods.”

  It wasn’t exactly forgiveness, but it was a start. At least the enmity in her eyes faded.

  The tension in his shoulders eased. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he replied with what he hoped was the correct amount of gallantry.

  Her voice softened. “Being from Darbor, you couldn’t have known.”

  The silence stretched as he struggled for words. By the moons, he was behaving like an inexperienced squire who had never spoken to a pretty girl. He col
lected his wits and forced them into submission. “I hope you will give me the opportunity to make amends.”

  She blinked. “Why?”

  He faltered. Why indeed? She was not someone of personal significance to him. As the princess of his king’s ally, it was unlikely that he, as a mere knight, would see much of her royal self during his stay in Arden. She, no doubt, spent most of her time in the castle, while he spent most of his time in training with the knights. Inexplicably, her opinion mattered, more than he cared to admit.

  “The hurt and anger in your eyes has haunted me.” His honesty surprised even himself.

  Her eyes darted between his as if trying to divine his thoughts and then she lifted one shoulder slightly. “Do not be overly concerned, Captain. My feelings are of no consequence. And it’s doubtless anyone would believe me should I relay the tale.”

  “I’m sure you underestimate your influence, Your Highness.”

  “Perhaps.” Something flickered in her eyes and then she looked away, but in that brief moment, he understood.

  The Darborian princess, Karina, had been married to Prince Aven of Arden, a man she had never met, for the sole purpose of reinforcing an alliance. As far as Kai knew, her wishes were never consulted, a common occurrence among royalty. Princesses were seldom valued beyond their ability to create or reconfirm alliances.

  Princess Jeniah moistened her lips. “As a stranger here, you probably know nothing about chayims. Would you care to learn more about them, Captain?”

  Kai paused. This might be his best opportunity to win her forgiveness. Why that seemed so important, he did not dare examine too closely. “Yes, I would.”

  “I’m going for a ride. Would your duties permit you to accompany me?”

  “As it happens, I’m not needed elsewhere at the moment.”

  She paused. “As I’m riding unchaperoned, it would only be appropriate for you to accompany me to serve as part of my guard, if you are willing.” She glanced toward the two knights who stood unobtrusively nearby.

  Kai nodded at Breneg and Ciath. They snapped salutes.

  “Princess Jeniah!” A middle-aged lady wearing clothing that rivaled royalty hurried up to the princess. “You forgot your cloak,” she panted as she reached them.

  A corner of the princess’s mouth lifted. “Thank you, Mora.” She turned around and allowed the woman to place the cloak over her shoulders and fasten the clasps down the front.

  The lady smirked at Kai. She might have been pretty once, but the ravages of time and sorrow had taken a toll upon her features, yet she had a pleasant face, and her affection for the princess was obvious.

  “Captain Darkwood, my lady-in-waiting, Lady Mora of the House of Kerrien.”

  Mora sank into a curtsy, her eyes making an unashamed appraisal of Kai, yet when she spoke, there was a note of warning in her tone. “I trust you will guard both her life and her virtue, Captain Darkwood?”

  Kai inclined his head. “With my very life, my lady.”

  With a nod, Mora grinned at the princess as if they shared a private joke. The older woman gave Kai another bold, admiring stare before she turned and left.

  Kai escorted the princess to the stables. As they arrived, the stable boy brought out the princess’s small, white duocorn. With a look of adoration on his face, he glanced up at the princess, then blushed and dropped his eyes quickly. “Your Highness.”

  She accepted the reins with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Grenly.”

  As she mounted her duocorn, Kai re-saddled Braygo, a gift from King Farai of Darbor. The powerfully built duocorn had proven a friend in battle more times than Kai could remember.

  They passed through the gates of the castle and wound their way through the streets of Arden City. The road branched off into three directions outside the city gates: one way led to the waterfront and the wharf; another was the Old Road, the main highway that spanned the length of Arden; the third wound along the seashore. Kai had never traveled this third road.

  A few clouds drifted across a glorious blue sky in a breeze cold enough to be invigorating. The duocorns pranced side by side, nickering to each other. Gold, brown, and burnished red leaves drifted, coaxed by the gentle breeze, down to the ground. Many trees were already bare, their naked limbs leaning away from the shore and its constant breeze. Overhead, a flock of birds fled the coming of winter, calling to each other in excited cries. The air was alive with the scurry of small animals, the song of birds, and the rustle of leaves.

  When they reached a break in the trees that allowed a clear view of the shoreline, the princess stopped, giving Kai a chance to take in the view. The bay’s deep blue water clearly revealed the sandy bottom many fathoms below the surface.

  Continuously moving, the water appeared alive, as if some great beast stirred far below the surface. The water lapped rhythmically and the topmost edges of the waves were peaked with white. Transfixed, Kai watched as a wave approached the shore. It grew in size and power until it crashed against the sands, collapsing, roiling and foamy, as it reached for the dry sand further up the beach before it slid back into the water to be replaced by another wave.

  The sheer power and majesty touched a place deep inside him. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Take a deep breath, Captain. Isn’t that the most wonderful smell? Whenever we travel inland, I miss that.”

  “I can understand why,” he agreed in a hushed voice.

  They enjoyed the view of the ocean for a few moments in silence before slowly going down the hill, where the trees blocked their view. At the bottom of the hill, Kai followed the princess off the road down a well-worn path leading to the beach.

  Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “I’ll race you.” Then, before Kai could reply, she urged her duocorn into a gallop.

  He let out a yell of mock outrage at her early start, but almost immediately he caught up with her. As they raced along the shore, seabirds scattered at their approach. Kai reined in so that their impromptu race ended in a tie. His Braygo, bigger and stronger than her Egan, could have easily won, but Kai hated unfair advantages.

  As he rode next to the princess, his eyes were again drawn to the seascape. Great jagged rocks jutted out of the sand like black, clawed fingers. The waves crashed thunderously upon them and then streamed in foaming white waterfalls down the craggy sides. He glanced back but the guards were out of view, probably sweeping the area for danger.

  “It’s low tide,” the princess said in satisfaction. “My favorite time to come to the shore.”

  Rather than reveal his ignorance, Kai refrained from asking what “low tide” meant.

  After they dismounted, the princess surprised him by sitting down and removing her slippers and stockings. She wiggled her toes. “I love to feel the sand on my bare feet. Soon it will be too cold to do this.” She looked up at him with a smile. “Do you wish to know about chayims, Captain Darkwood?”

  Momentarily speechless, Kai could only stare at her surreal beauty. He swallowed hard. “Yes, very much.”

  She motioned him to sit beside her. “They are very old and very rare,” she began, her voice taking on the tone of a storyteller. The sea breeze played with her dark hair, loosening it from its careful plaits until she appeared much as she had that day in the woods.

  “Because chayims shun humans and are able to blend in with their surroundings, they are difficult to see despite their size. According to legend, maidens tame them with their gentleness and purity, but what entices a chayim to accept one maiden and not another remains a mystery. It is always a rare honor, one that has not occurred in generations.”

  Kai pushed his fingers through his hair, dismayed at the news that he’d destroyed not only a creature, but an event of great importance.

  The princess looked out over the water, her face wistful. “Acceptance by a chayim forms a lifelong bond. The chayim communicates directly into the maiden’s mind, imparting some of its wisdom and knowledge to her. Chayims are also said t
o have magical powers of healing and protection over the maiden whom they accept.”

  “So you desired the magical properties of this chayim?”

  “Partially.” She turned to face him. “It’s also a great honor and elevates the maiden’s status. Peasant girls who are chayimbonded become nobility.”

  “But you are already a princess.”

  She dropped her eyes. “A maiden who forges this bond is honored, revered, and given much freedom and often power. If I had come home chayim-bonded, I would have become more valuable to my father. The chayim’s protection and healing extends to all in her household and even to her country.”

  Kai digested that. “You think it would protect your family from war?”

  She blinked. Perhaps she was as oblivious to the true threat of war as the rest of the Ardeenes. “I suppose it would, but I desired to be chayim-bonded for more selfish reasons. I hoped that my father would let me stay home and choose my own husband later when I’m older. Or at least consider my opinion in the husband that he chooses for me.”

  Sadness touched her lovely face, leaving Kai with the absurd desire to help her. What he could do for her, he had no idea.

  She looked him boldly in the eye as if desperate to explain herself. “But that truly wasn’t my only reason for wanting to be accepted by a chayim, Captain. It’s something else, something deeper. I’ve longed for this bond since my childhood, long before I understood my use to the king. I’m not sure I can explain it, but I always believed I was meant for such an honor, a dream I nurtured all these years. Perhaps my destiny.”

  Kai closed his eyes. If only he had traveled through the forest an hour sooner, or an hour later. If only . . . “I slew much more than a chayim that day.”

  She remained quiet a long moment. When she spoke, her voice softened. “You are a stranger here. Our culture must seem very foreign to you. It is not possible to know all of our legends, or the animals unique to Arden.”

  “Still, if I had known . . .”

  “I know. You would have acted differently,” she said gently. “Did I say I’m sorry?”