Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four)

by Breeana Puttroff

  He and William’s little sister Alice would probably get along really well – after they’d had a couple of days to work up the courage to actually talk to each other. “He’s a really great kid. You can tell how much he loves you – he notices everything you do, Quinn. Annie’s pretty precious too, though.” That one had fit in with the rest of the boisterous crew immediately.

  “She loves your little sisters.”

  “I know.” He chuckled. “I heard her asking your mom if she could sleep with Emma tonight.”

  “I’m sure that thrilled my mom. Now she’s going to be worried that Annie won’t want to go back home with her.”

  He finished squeezing the syringe of pain medicine into her IV, and then sat down next to her on the mattress.

  “It didn’t go so well with your mom earlier, did it?”

  She shrugged. “It probably went as well as it could go. But it was hard.”

  “I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead, and then lay down, sliding his arm underneath her.

  She rested her head on his chest, moving her ear until it was right over his heart. “This is better,” she said.

  “Much,” he agreed, pulling her hair back from her neck and running his fingers softly along the base of her scalp. “Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom?”

  “Uh-uh,” she mumbled. “Not right now. I’m starting to get really sleepy.”

  “It’s probably the medicine – it works really fast. Want me to go so you can sleep?”

  “No.” Her eyes opened wide. “I don’t want to be alone, Will. I need you.” The fear in her voice hurt his heart.

  “Okay, love.” His answer was just as quick. “Shh, relax. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Ever again, if he could help it. He settled further under her, and reached to pull her blanket over both of them.

  * * *

  When William woke in the morning, Quinn was still soundly asleep, her arm across his chest. It was still dark out, but they’d gone to bed so early that he knew he’d slept enough and wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

  Her arm was cool to the touch; the fever hadn’t returned. He hoped that meant the anti-viral medication was working. It relieved him to see that the rash hadn’t spread to her arms, either. She was having a hard enough time dealing with her mom’s feelings about her being in Eirentheos; he didn’t blame her for not wanting to share the fact that she’d gotten sick, too.

  Afraid of waking her, he laid there for a long time, listening to her breathe in and out, thinking about just how much he liked this. But eventually, he realized he wasn’t going to have a choice. His body wouldn’t allow him to stay there forever.

  She didn’t wake when he rose, although even in her sleep she grimaced when the motion of the bed jostled her leg. She seemed completely out; enough that he dared leaning down and kissing her forehead. That didn’t disturb her – he thought maybe he could get away with getting some more meds into her.

  For a brief moment, he contemplated putting some more morphine into her drip, but he had a feeling she might object to that if she were awake, and it didn’t feel right, so instead he gave her something gentler, and then left a note on her table telling her he was going to take a shower, in case she woke looking for him.

  Thomas, who, it seemed, never slept, was sitting on a stool at the counter in the common room, sipping from a mug of tea when William came in.

  “The change of clothes was a wise plan,” Thomas said, nodding when he saw William. “It might not be the best idea to be sleeping in her room when her mother is here.”

  William was suddenly mortified. “Nothing happened, Thomas. It wasn’t like that.”

  “Well, obviously. I imagine it would be hard to kiss her without hurting her right now. But still, really, Will? Megan wanted to go in and say goodnight to her last night. I had to convince her that Quinn was already asleep and that it wouldn’t be good to accidentally wake her.”

  William swallowed guiltily. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Megan already thinks we’re keeping Quinn from her, trying to sabotage their relationship or something. Can you imagine what she’d think if she walked in and found you in Quinn’s bed? Mother and Father wouldn’t exactly be pleased, either, you know.”

  William sat down at the counter and buried his face in his hands. “She just didn’t want me to leave her last night, Thomas. And I couldn’t do it.”

  The expression in Thomas’ eyes softened. “I know. But you can’t make a habit of it. Especially not while her mother is here.”

  “I know.”

  Thomas stood and got another mug, and then scooped tea out of a canister into a tea ball, placed it in the cup, and poured in water from a steaming kettle on the stove. He slid the mug across the counter to William.

  “If you want to get away with sleeping with her, you’re going to have to more than just court her.”

  “Yeah. I’ve kind of thought about that, Thomas.”

  Thomas’ eyebrow arched into a v while he took a sip of his tea. “Thought about it how much?”

  “I might have sort of asked her to marry me yesterday.”

  The mug slammed to the counter, splashing hot drops of the aromatic tea everywhere. “Sort of? Or you did?”

  “I did.”

  Thomas’ eyes were wide. “Now that is some fantastic timing.”

  “I know.” William rolled his eyes. “I keep saying that they’ve pegged my gift all wrong. Mine should be romance, not healing, don’t you think? After all, it takes a special kind of talent to propose to the girl you love while she’s sick and halfway unconscious from pain after an injury sustained during her kidnapping.” His voice broke on the last words.

  “Oh, Will.” Thomas came around the counter and sat down on the stool next to him, putting his hand on William’s shoulder. “It’s not as bad as that. I mean, she must not have told you to go fish in a different stream – you just slept in her room. What happened? What did she say?”

  “She asked if we could talk about it later.”

  Thomas chuckled. “Sounds reasonable.”

  “Yeah.” He still couldn’t believe he’d actually done that – what would she think about that today?

  “It also sounds distinctly different than a no.”

  That was true, he supposed. “It does, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t stop the sides of his mouth from edging into a grin.

  “Yeah, it does. But it also sounds like you need to do a better job of it next time.”

  * * *

  The soft sound of her door closing woke Quinn. Feeling disoriented, she lifted her head, scared for a second, until she saw the familiar line of light at the bottom of her curtains, and realized that she was in her room in the castle, and it was morning.

  “Sorry,” a familiar voice whispered from across the room. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just coming to check on you.”

  “It’s okay, Nathaniel. It’s probably time for me to be getting up, anyway. How long did I sleep?” Asking that question suddenly made her remember falling asleep last night, and she looked around, panicked for a second, until a motion from across the room caught her eye.

  William stood from the couch and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains before walking back toward her. “It’s only just now breakfast-time, love.”

  She blinked in the bright light. “Is my mom up?”

  “I haven’t seen her yet,” Nathaniel said, coming to stand next to the bed, and reaching for her wrist to check her pulse. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  She shrugged, testing herself out. “Not so sick to my stomach anymore, I don’t think. A little groggy, maybe.”

  “How’s your leg?”

  She thought about downplaying it, but realized she’d give herself away as soon as she tried to walk again. “It hurts.” She pulled the covers off of her leg so he could check her dressing.

  “Stephen wants the guard who did this to you arrested.�
� Nathaniel looked pleased.

  “I was trying to get his knife.”

  “Which is exactly what you should have been doing. You should have had one of your own to begin with. You’ve been practicing enough with them – it was stupid not to make sure you had one with you. Don’t defend him, Quinn. He was kidnapping you.”

  “I know; I just wanted to be truthful about it.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No, you’re feeling guilty about it. Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. He did. Jonathan did. I think Stephen should track him down and arrest him.”

  “He’s your brother.”

  “Yeah, he is. Though he’s made it awfully clear where his loyalties lie.”

  “Are you sure about that, Nathaniel? It’s not like he knew who I was.”

  “Right. He just snuck into the kingdom and captured a prince and his girlfriend – oh, and the girlfriend’s family. He’s completely innocent.”

  “He was here trying to find out about the gate. He saw my family come through the gate. He thought I was some kind of spy or something for Stephen.”

  Nathaniel sighed. “You do realize all of this means we have a much bigger problem, right? Tolliver knows about the gate.”

  A chill ran down Quinn’s spine, and she strained to remember her conversation with Jonathan yesterday. The memory was a little fuzzy. “I’m not sure he does yet. Or at least not any more than the rumors he’d heard already from the spies he’s had here. He sent Jonathan here to see if he could find out if those rumors were true. But I don’t think Jonathan reported anything back to him.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know enough about it yet, but I think we should talk to him, and not assume that we know for sure whose side he’s on. I think we could give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Nathaniel frowned, studying her closely. “What else aren’t you telling us, Quinn?”

  “I told him who I really am.”

  The room was completely silent for several moments as the impact of her statement sank in.

  “So you’ve made a decision, then,” Nathaniel said.

  She closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “I also told my mother last night that I don’t intend to go home again – at least not to stay.”

  William sank down onto the bed beside her, wide-eyed. “You really did that?”

  “I really did.”

  “Are you sure, Quinn? Because you don’t have to be.”

  Staring down at her lap for a minute, knotting and unknotting her fingers, she considered her answer carefully. Alvin’s words from the dream she’d had yesterday morning in the tent came, unbidden, into her head.

  “Beloved, perhaps I’ll be able to stop asking such questions when you stop doing the things you don’t mean to be doing, and start doing the things you mean to.”

  Finally, she looked back up at Nathaniel. “I know I don’t have to. I could spend the rest of my life not having to. Nobody here is going to make me, are they? Everyone keeps telling me to just think about it, to wait until I’ve been home, to take my time. I could probably get away with never making a decision.

  “But what would that accomplish? I could do what my father did – run away, and pretend I don’t have to face this, but that won’t really fix anything, will it? And it’s all a show, anyway, isn’t it? That I don’t have to make a decision right now? Not deciding is a choice, too. Not deciding is making things worse, because nobody can do anything. I think I’ve known for a while now. I think I knew when I decided to join the Friends of Philip.”

  Nathaniel opened his mouth and then closed it again. Slowly, he nodded.

  She took another deep breath before speaking again, looking at each of them in turn. “You two are the most protective of me – always ready to jump in and not make me do anything I don’t want to do. And I appreciate that, and I love you both,” she blushed, because she’d never told Nathaniel that before, but she realized that it was true.

  “But right now – with this, I need you to not try to protect me from it. I need your support – need you to take my decision seriously, and stand behind me – not in my way.”

  Nathaniel stared at her for a long moment, but finally he nodded again. “Okay. Would you like me to go and speak with Stephen – set up a meeting with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” Nathaniel finished re-taping her bandage, and packing some supplies back into the drawer on her nightstand. He took a couple of steps toward the door, and then hesitated, turning around and walking back to her.

  “I loved you from the first moment your father handed you to me, Quinn – that’s never changed, and it’s never going to. I’m proud of you, baby girl, and I know, somewhere, he is, too.”

  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she could see that his cheeks were flushed red, too. He straightened back up, looking a little embarrassed, which only softened her heart more, and then he left the room.

  * * *

  Once the door had closed behind Nathaniel, she turned to see William watching her intently.

  “Can I just ask one thing?” He asked, as he took her hand in his.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I said yesterday, does it?”

  “What? When you asked me to marry you?”

  “Yeah.” He was staring down at their intertwined hands.

  She reached toward him, putting her finger under his chin, and tipping his face up so that he was looking at her. Her heart thumped in an erratic rhythm, but she took a deep breath. “No, it doesn’t. I think I’ve been coming close to this decision for a long time – and yesterday morning, I realized that I’d already made it. I knew before I even said anything to Jonathan.”

  “Okay . . . so long as it’s really your decision. I just wanted to make sure that you knew I’m not going anywhere whatever you decide.” The last words were almost a whisper, and she studied him for a long moment before she spoke.

  “Are we going to talk about that now?”

  Now he was blushing. It was awfully early in the day for this amount of awkwardness. “I’m sorry,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “My timing is awful, I know. I should have planned this – there should have been flowers . . . you’d probably even like a ring, the way people do it in your world.”

  “So . . . you were serious, then.” She thought her stomach should have been twisting into knots, but it wasn’t. There were a few butterflies, yes, but they were a completely different kind.

  “Yes.” His eyes met hers, and the depth of the emotion she saw there took her breath away. “Look – I know it’s not good timing, that you’re dealing with your mom coming here, that you’re already making a huge decision . . .”

  “That I’m only seventeen . . .”

  “Yeah . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  He was right – everything he was saying was true. It wasn’t the right time, she was too young, she had too many other decisions to make . . . but she knew, somehow, that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when he asked, or where or how, or how old she was, or what was going on around them. None of it mattered, because whenever he asked, she would only ever have one answer to his question.

  “Will . . .”

  He looked up again, and she’d never seen him so nervous or embarrassed. His hand, inside hers, was sweating.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes widened just a fraction. “What?”

  “Yes, I am saying yes. I will marry you.”

  He looked confused for a couple of seconds, and then his mouth split open into the biggest grin she had ever seen. His sudden joy was so complete that it was contagious, and she couldn’t help grinning widely, too.

  He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly before his mouth found hers, gently at first, but quickly turning more intense. . .

  One sharp knock was all the warning they had before her
bedroom door opened wide, and Thomas and Linnea walked right in, followed by Quinn’s mother.

  * * *

  William stood up so fast it was almost comical. “Your leg is looking a lot better today.”

  She nodded, attempting to compose herself, and failing miserably. She knew it was obvious to everyone – especially to her mom – what they’d been doing. Linnea, pretending not to notice, picked up the robe from the bench at the end of her bed and walked toward her with it.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, as Linnea helped her hang it over her shoulders and put her free arm into the sleeve.

  “You look like you’re feeling better this morning,” her mom said, and Quinn didn’t think her face had ever felt this hot. Linnea moved behind her and started brushing out her disheveled hair.

  The look on her mother’s face made Quinn’s heart sink into her stomach. She remembered her mother’s accusation from yesterday, and she realized that the idea of her and William getting married was not going to fly with her mother at all. Suddenly, she felt nauseous again.

  “How’s your leg?” Megan asked.

  “It’s okay.” Grateful for the distraction, she almost stood up to demonstrate, but truthfully, it was hurting, and just the thought of putting weight on it made her nervous. “Sort of, anyway,” she admitted.

  “You never even told me what happened,” Megan said. “How bad did you hurt it?”

  “She cut it pretty badly,” William said, the dark anger coming in again at the edges of his voice as Quinn lifted the edge of her nightgown to reveal the white bandage and the blossoming purple and red that covered her upper leg. “Twelve stitches.”

  “Oh, honey.” Megan’s whole demeanor changed, softening into concern. She sank down onto the bed, careful not to jostle anything. “Your first stitches . . . I’m so sorry.”

  From behind Megan, Thomas raised an eyebrow.

  Quinn stomach tightened into a knot – yes, she was definitely nauseous again. “It wasn’t the first time,” she mumbled. “I’m okay, Mom.”