Are you afraid of me?
“Why should I be afraid of you?” I stated firmly.
Fray shot me a dark look. You should be, and you shouldn’t be here. Go home.
I gave him a pointed look. “A servant ordering a princess. How quaint. I should report you.”
Fray rolled his eyes. Go then. At least I will have a moment of peace without your incessant babbling.
I let out a snort of amusement. “You’re as nice as Lulu when she’s hungry.”
Fray lifted his hands in an exaggerated shrug. You can’t report me.
I may have let you off the hook, but the gods still regard it as a debt. Who am I to go against the gods?
Oh, you sniveling little... My thoughts trailed off. A sound turned both our heads. My shadow guard was coughing. I had to act fast if I wanted to get away without being seen. I bent down and rolled the stone back into place. My candle was still lit and sitting at Henry’s grave. The taper had been new. I still had time.
What do you want with revenge? signed Fray when I got back to my feet. You are not a soldier. Go home.
“You forget that even outside of these walls, this is my home, servant boy,” I said, emphasizing the last two words with a look of triumph. “Besides, you’re not a soldier either.”
I couldn’t read his look when he picked up the lantern and began walking away from me. The glow of the lamp disappeared after a moment as I stood there, unsure. There was nothing but trees and darkness ahead, so I jogged to him until I found the light again.
After some time of walking in silence, Fray stopped, turned, and held the lantern to light up his face. He pressed a finger to his lips. I grew quiet as a mouse. I wasn’t sure how softly I could breathe without holding my breath entirely.
There came the cracking of a branch, and then a crow bolted from the branches. Another person emerged from the darkness, and I went for my dagger. But Fray extended his arm to hold my own down.
“I didn’t peg you for the kidnapping type,” came a man’s voice from deep within his white hood. “Something more, but never less.”
“What?” I asked. I stepped forward. “Who are you?”
Fray shoved his lantern into my chest for me to hold. He then signed: If you don’t be quiet, I won’t have a choice but to kidnap you.
The stranger drew back his hood. I recognized him as one of the bakers from the market square. Older, with a massive beard and salt and pepper hair, he’d always been kind. He even threw stale bread out for the birds at the end of the day.
But right now, he ignored me entirely.
He limped as he turned and began to walk. “We haven’t seen you in days,” he said to Fray, almost in a whisper. “We thought something had happened. Sparrow was the most worried. She signs your name as ‘blue sky.’” He gave a hearty laugh. “I’m pretty sure she likes you.”
Before I could ask questions, the melodious sound of singing filled my ears. It seemed to come from the trees, the branches, even the leaves. As we continued walking, it became more and more lovely. We came out of the darkness into what appeared to be a party in the very center of a glade.
As the baker and Fray walked ahead, I lingered at the edge of the wood and removed my hood slowly, taking in everything around me. There were several shelters that had been built, making the place its own makeshift town. This was a Voiceless camp that I had never been to. There were dozens of people, children even, milling around fires and torches stuck into the ground. The winds carried the sweet singing to my ears.
As I walked toward them, some of the people began dancing, swinging each other around clumsily. Most now huddled around Fray, who emptied the sack he had been carrying. From it dropped loaves of bread, pieces of dried meats and cheese, and nearly browned fruit. Spotting me watching, he stood straight as a soldier and signed: Leftovers. I stole nothing.
Two old women approached, holding a bowl which they offered to me. “What is it?” I asked, but the moment I took the bowl, I knew. Strawberry pudding. I found myself oddly breathless. “Did you know this is my favorite?”
One of the women had mismatched eyes: one pale blue and the other dark, almost black. She smiled at me kindly but said nothing more.
There was a tug at my cloak, and I looked down to find a small blonde girl gazing up at me with saucer-sized eyes.
“What is your name?” I asked her, but she merely smiled and cupped her hand to her mouth. She then skipped away to her mother, who had been standing close by.
Someone laid a soft hand on my shoulder, the one where the arrow had pierced me.
Are you all right? Fray signed.
I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. I still held the bowl of pudding, and I started scooping it into my mouth, if only to have something to do with my hands.
He signed something that I couldn’t understand. Several people smiled and shook their heads in a silent laugh.
“What did you say to them?” I asked.
I told them that you were searching for someone that doesn’t exist.
“What do you mean?” I asked defensively, echoes of my mother running through my brain. “You were there. You saw those men.”
Fray gave me a look that almost constituted concern. It’s imprinted on you, Princess. Go back home. Your mind needs to recover.
I shook my head, determined. “Don’t belittle my feelings, Fray Castor,” I said. “You will find that I am not so easily deterred.”
Fray tucked his chin and rolled his eyes. Not tonight, Princess.
“Well, thanks for making me sound so simple.”
What do you care? You could have two heads and a tail, and they’d still bow to you.
I glowered at him, but he rolled his eyes and blew out a puff of air like he couldn’t wait for me to leave his sight. He must really like me.
The singing started up once more, this time accompanied by a violin and another instrument that I didn’t know. After a few minutes, people began dancing and chattering. It became so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think. Fray left me alone. I was considering going back to the castle when the baker appeared at my side.
“What are you doing with him?” he asked with a weighing look.
I gave him a long look. “What are you?”
“I’ve seen you in a Voiceless camp before. You’re not the only one sympathetic to these people.”
“Are they all Voiceless here?”
The baker nodded.
“But how? There are children here. The birds—"
The baker gave a long sigh and moved his hands down his face. “The birds, the birds,” he said mockingly. “There were no birds. There never were.”
A sick feeling dropped into the pit of my stomach. “A disease, then?”
The baker shook his head. “Go back to your gowns and princes,” he said, staring ahead at the people dancing in the center of the clearing. Behind him, a flame rose and danced in the wind. “And if you know what’s good for you, don’t cultivate a friendship with that boy. He’s unpredictable and a little unstable.”
“He doesn’t sound a far cry from me, huh?” I smiled and nudged the baker with my elbow.
He didn’t return the smile. “Keep your problems simple. You don’t want that burden.”
“I’m sure that I can make that decision for myself,” I said. I hadn’t planned on calling Fray my friend, but I sure wouldn’t allow this old man to tell me I couldn’t. Typically, when my mother told me not to do something, it made me want to do it even more.
Then the baker spoke, repeating his words slowly as if I’d been learning how to speak: “What are you doing with that boy?”
Just then, Fray walked over, the little blonde girl in tow. He signed to me that her name was Mia, but she liked to be called Sparrow and she wanted to dance with me. The girl then corrected Fray.
I want you both to dance with me.
Before I knew it, she was dragging both Fray and me into the dancing crowd. They accepted us right away, swaying an
d smiling as I mimicked their moves. It was different than the slow, methodical dancing I had practiced all my life. Here, I tripped over feet and laughed at my clumsiness because I wasn’t the only one. It was careless. It was freeing.
But it didn’t take long for me to remember the candle burning on Henry’s grave and the words of the baker.
Just as I was about to pull away, Sparrow stopped and grabbed Fray's hand. She placed it in my own. We both flinched at each other’s touch. She wiped her brow and waited, a wide grin on her face.
Fray did not pull his hand from mine. A strange warmth flooded my belly.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” I told her. Fray started to sign, but with one hand he couldn’t give us his entire opinion on the matter. Sparrow wasn’t paying him any mind anyhow. The music slowed as if on cue, and she bowed and backed out.
Fray stood there for a moment. He fidgeted, giving the impression that if he had a chance, he would disappear just as fast as I would, but Sparrow was staring at us from the sidelines, so I seized his other hand and put it around my waist. I tried to lead, but we ended up stepping on each other’s boots.
But he still held my hand, and didn’t throw up at my touch, so I had that going for me.
“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” I said, the overwhelming urge to turn tail and run dissipating. Something else blossomed in its place. Unidentifiable, but non-threatening.
Fray inclined his head and sighed in defeat. Quite the change from the obvious pisser attitude from earlier that evening.
Non-threatening.
Being this close to him, I found it almost impossible to swallow how handsome Fray was. Brown hair and blue eyes. Blue and brown. A lovely combination of colors, both complementing each other and uncommon. He was tall, built, but not in a boxy way like Ashe. Leaner. Athletic. Even dancing as unwillingly and clumsily as possible, he reminded me less of a wild animal and more of a docile one.
Fray was not a good dancer. He stepped on my foot, not once, but twice. He cringed, but I couldn’t help but laugh, and after a moment, he even managed a weak smile. My heart fluttered against my throat. I hoped Fray couldn’t feel it. I moved my hand to check.
“What you do for them is great,” I said, my voice steadier than anticipated. I felt his fingers twitch as they lightly gripped my waist. “I know you can’t reply. That’s okay. I don’t need you to.” I kept one eye on the people around us. “Blink once for yes and twice for no, okay?”
Fray paused, and for an instant, we both stood there like statues, arms limp at our sides. Sparrow clapped from somewhere, and I caught the baker’s eye, so we started up again.
“You were outside that night for a reason, right?” I began, my voice careful.
Fray seemed to hold his breath. Frowning, he blinked once. He was still staring, and the intensity of his eyes began to burn my cheeks.
“But it wasn’t to save me, right?”
He blinked twice.
Something crept into my heart then that made me shiver, but I continued anyway. “Your purpose was not of ill intent—am I correct?”
Fray did nothing, but his eyes dropped, words hanging on his lips. I wondered how long he had been without a voice. From the way he gritted his teeth and moved his tongue along his lips, something told me that it hadn’t been long at all.
He wanted to speak because he had once known the sound of his own voice.
But instead of blinking as we agreed, he looked up, his eyes reflecting the fires around us. Blue was replaced by flame. I gasped and pushed my body away from his. Behind my eyes, the dream of my father lying dead flashed, quick as a bolt of lightning.
And then I thought of the inhuman eyes of my attacker.
I began to shake. My body was an earthquake raging from within, plummeting somewhere deep and dark. The world around me twisted. Unfamiliar. Unsafe. Eyes were watching me from every corner.
Run.
I took my hands from Fray’s shoulders. Fear sliced my skin and drained my blood, replacing it with nothing. Hollow. Empty. I held onto my necklace, trying to draw strength from it, but it wasn’t working.
Run.
“I have to go.” I started toward the forest, not bothering to grab a lantern or a torch. Even though I didn’t know this part of the woods, I was confident I could find my way back by the light of the moon and stars alone.
It took every ounce of courage to move and not fall to my knees.
I heard someone dart into the trees behind me, quick as an animal. Fray took hold of my forearm and attempted to swing me round to meet to his eyes, but I refused, pulling my arm free and stepping up my pace.
“That is no way to treat me,” I told Fray over my shoulder. My fuming temper nipped at me. “Life debt or not!”
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of me. Touching me. Taking both of my shoulders and pushing me backward until I smashed up against the bole of a tree. A fierce anger gripped me, and I shoved him backward.
“You were with them, then?” I asked through a staggered breath.
He blinked twice. No.
Somewhere in the trees, crows scattered, and the air chapped my lips. I licked them and swallowed.
“I shouldn’t have seen the things I saw,” I said.
Again, no.
“You’re trying to scare me into not coming back out here with you, but it’s not working.”
Fray worked his jaw at this.
I breathed in long and hard. There was something he was keeping from me. I felt it in my bones. “You’re one of the vaguest people I’ve ever met, and don’t blame it on being Voiceless. I know the Voiceless.”
Fray made a face. You don’t know us.
“I know them well enough. I know I should hate your people for warring with mine.”
Fray signed urgently. If he could speak, I suppose he’d be shouting by now.
My people did not start it. Yours did. They came to my land. They— He dropped his hands and curled his lips into a snarl. It was clear that he was done talking to me.
Fine. I was done talking to him, too.
I started to turn away, but my temper got the better of me. “I’m sorry, all right? But…”
Fray held up a hand, fingers splayed out, eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe I was still talking to him. Go away, he signed. Or I’ll throw you over that wall.
I ignored the threat. “I just liked that you believed me. Nobody else does, except maybe Ashe.”
The prince with the stupid grin?
I snorted. “He does smile a lot, doesn’t he?”
Fray glowered and kicked up dirt with the toe of his boot. This conversation really was over.
I was starting to walk away when Fray Castor whistled.
Live a normal life, he signed. Stay out of the woods.
“Fine,” I said, “but you’re wrong. Nothing about anything in my life right now is normal.”
Chapter 13
The dining hall rang with the sound of dishes being set.
Servants floated by briskly, setting down bowls for our first course: oatmeal. Nothing made me gag more than oatmeal. Even when I piled it full of honey, it still left a gritty taste on my tongue. A serving platter of tarts came out next. I smiled as I sat.
“I came to your room last night,” said Lulu. She was dressed in a cute, cream gown with her hair in a neat little knot at the top of her head.
“I was talking to Henry,” I said plainly, stuffing a tart into my mouth. The guilt dug into me. I replaced it with another tart, which I nearly choked on when Ashe entered the room. I wiped my mouth, my cheeks burning hot as the fireplace behind me. Mentioning Henry felt like a confession to what I had done—sneaking out, and with a servant, at that. And I had danced with him! I could just imagine my mother’s judgment. But Ashe didn’t regard my flushed skin as anything other than a reaction to himself.
“You look beautiful,” he said, taking his usual seat. He folded his hands on the table in front of him and gifted a d
impled smile to Lulu. “Lulu, you look beautiful as well.”
Lulu giggled delightedly. “Well, nice of you to notice,” she said, twirling a strand of dark hair around her fingers.
I had woken before the sun and dressed in a long-sleeved black dress and a cropped jacket, which was called for on a rainy day like today. All the while, I could not help but think about last night.
I knew following Fray into the forest had been a mistake. I felt it the second it happened. Worse was that I stayed and let him speak to me the way he did.
I reasoned with myself. It could be a lesson. Not necessarily a mistake, per se. It took me several long minutes to convince myself that the next time I stepped foot outside of my chambers, life could return to a semblance of normal.
Except it hadn’t. The tarts were all but crumbs on my plate when my mother, who had been oddly silent the entire meal, finally chimed in.
“Isabelle, how about you take Prince Ashe to the springs tomorrow afternoon,” she said, sipping her tea.
Normally, going to the springs would excite me, but now it felt like a violation of privacy. It was a serene place. My serene place. Not to mention secluded and maybe even romantic given the situation, which was probably what my mother intended.
I felt Ashe’s gaze even though I didn’t look at him.
I held my breath for a long moment before replying. “Any word from Father?”
A narrowing of eyes. If my mother could shoot flames from them, I’m sure she would have. “I am expecting a crow,” she said, sitting back in her chair. She held my gaze and added, “The springs, Isabelle.”
“I’d like that,” said Ashe with a passionate smile, and then low enough for only me to hear, “I have a surprise for you.” He looked to Lulu, who grinned wildly at him. “I think you’ll like it. In fact, I made a point to ensure that.”
Lulu guffawed. “Point,” she said and then nudged me. “Get it?”
I didn’t get it, but before I could inquire, the clanging of teapots atop glass trays filled the hall. Four servants set several pots onto the table in between the bouquets of fresh daisies, but only one lingered behind.
Unspoken Page 9
