by E. A. James
Aine flushed hotly. “Yes, sir,” she said, trying to keep a note of condescension out of her voice. “I am indeed a woman. But no, I have not been studying long.” She closed her eyes and counted. “About thirty hours, perhaps.”
Huen frowned. “And you’re treating me? By the gods! I could have died!”
Aine looked into his face and said calmly: “But you must have wanted to die, sir, to be injured so badly. Did you get into a drunken brawl with some other royal cousin?”
Aine was pleased to watch the frown melt off Huen’s face, replaced by obvious confusion and anger.
“You mock me?” Huen growled. “Madam, I assure you, that is not a wise decision.”
Aine straightened up to her full height and looked down at Huen.
“I was not taught in the ways of Zhekan women because I am not a Zhekan woman,” she said, trying to sound both proud and self-aware. “I was born in Glasule.”
Huen burst out laughing. “No. That cannot be true,” he said, shaking his head. “You are putting me on, surely.”
“I am not, sir,” Aine said. She narrowed her eyes. “What is so funny?”
Huen, still, chuckling, shook his head. “Nothing, lady,” he said. “Just that…well, you don’t exactly look much like a woman of Glasule. You still have your teeth, for one. And both eyes,” he added.
Aine frowned. “Sir, you have no reason to be so rude,” she said slowly. “My adoptive parents thought it would be inappropriate to teach me in the ways of Zhekan women, as I have no natural gifts or abilities.” She bit her lip, hoping the bitterness she felt wasn’t obvious. “I have instead been trained in the art of needlework, sewing, and some simple cooking.”
“You have taken me by surprise, that is all,” Huen said. He gulped down the water and swallowed hard, then reached for the potion. “By gods! This smells disgusting. I thought you said you had experience cooking?”
Aine shrugged. “What is good for us does not always taste good,” she said, remembering a saying she’d heard from Mie years ago. “I am sure it will be beneficial for you.”
Huen looked sulky. “The potions at home taste of nectar,” he said. “Perhaps your ingredients are faulty.”
“I doubt that,” Aine snapped. “Forgive me – my parents lack the wealth to make delicious potions.”
Huen closed his eyes as he drank, making a face at the bitter taste of the potion. When he was done, he handed the cup back to Aine.
“You are welcome,” Aine said crossly. Without waiting for a reply, she walked outside and washed both cups. Then she went back to Huen’s side and knelt, taking his broken wrist in her hands.
“Ouch!” Huen cried. “Be careful!”
Aine took a deep breath. “I am always careful,” she said. “Are you always such a child when it comes to pain?”
Huen glared at her before yanking his wrist free. “I think I am well enough to return home,” he said. He tossed his head and gave Aine an arrogant look. “I’ve spent enough time in this…hut.”
A hot rush of anger surged through Aine and before she could think about what she was doing, she raised her hand and slapped Huen across the face. He stared at her with his mouth open, shocked.
“Sir, I have cared for you nonstop, and yet you see it fit to insult me, my home, and my family,” Aine snapped. “Now leave, and do not return!”
Huen stared at her, breathless.
“Go!” Aine yelled. “Now!” She glared daggers at Huen until he got to his feet, gave her one last bewildered look, then left the small house.
As Aine watched Huen’s muscular frame disappear, she closed her eyes, leaned against the doorframe and sighed. Oh, gods, what have I done, she wondered, her heart thumping quickly in her chest. I was rude to a royal cousin! I refused him medical treatment!
A shiver ran down her spine. But as much as Aine knew she had acted out of turn, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d caught Huen completely by surprise. I bet no one has ever spoken to him like that before, aside from perhaps his mother, Aine thought. An unlikely smile spread across her face. I really gave him something to think about!
CHAPTER THREE
Huen
Little brat, Huen thought as he trudged home towards his parents’ grand home. His wrist was feeling better, but he had a whopping headache, and something had happened to his right leg – he could hardly put any weight on the ankle without pain shooting up and down his body. Still, he knew he was likely in better condition than he would have been without Aine’s care.
With the exception of his overbearing mother, Huen had never been spoken to like that by a woman. He couldn’t believe it – Aine was so beautiful and sweet-looking…until she opened her mouth. Her long fair curls had made a perfect contrast with her unblemished olive skin, and her brown eyes were so dark that Huen hadn’t been able to make out the iris from the pupil. It’s because she’s foreign, and she doesn’t look like anyone else from here, Huen thought, trying to ignore the flicker of desire growing in his belly. He found it unbearable – how could he so attracted to someone so rude, so belligerent! Trying to bed Aine would be like trying to bed one of the tigers in the arena…and just as with a tiger, Huen had a feeling he wouldn’t survive the encounter.
Thinking of the dark fire in Aine’s eyes made Huen shiver. He knew he would never see her again – after all, she had thrown him out of that shameful excuse for a home. But he couldn’t help fantasize, think about her bending over him and tending to his wounds.
By the time Huen returned to his parents’ home, the candles had been snuffed out and the sky overhead was pitch dark. Huen felt apprehension at the thought of going inside, especially with such a grievous injury. Between the pain in his wrist and the complicated feelings for Aine brewing inside his head, Huen was in no mood to face his mother. Instead, he turned left and knocked for the castle drawbridge to descend. Once the guards let him inside, Huen began searching for Aerdan.
“Ah, Huen!”
Huen turned at the sound of Queen Zornaya’s voice. She looked serene and magnificent, as usual. In addition to being fair, intelligent, and gentle, Zornaya was the most gifted sorceress in the kingdom of Zheka. Aerdan and Huen shared an inside joke that perhaps she created anti-aging potions for herself each morning. But regardless of whether or not that was true, Huen couldn’t deny that she had a commanding presence.
Huen dipped his head in respect. “Queen Zornaya, you’re looking lovely this evening,” he said, lowering his eyes in respect.
“Ah, Huen, ever the flatterer,” Zornaya said, her robes swirling over the marble floors. “Are you here to see Aerdan and Angelica?” She tossed her long hair. “Perhaps a night walk might be good for them,” she added.
"Yes," Huen said. “Are they in Aerdan’s chamber?”
“Indeed,” Zornaya replied. She stepped closer and took Huen’s injured wrist in her hands. It ached dreadfully but Huen bit his lip, determined not to show weakness in front of the Queen.
“Why, Huen, you have hurt yourself,” she said. “You boys must be more careful!”
“Yes,” Huen said uncomfortably, not wanting to disclose the circumstances of his injury…or his convalescence. “It was an accident, unfortunately.”
“May I?”
Huen squirmed. “Yes,” he said. He knew he could not refuse the Queen anything, and grit his teeth in a desperate hope to avoid any pain.
Queen Zornaya’s hands were nimble and skilled as she unwrapped the bloody strips of muslin binding Huen’s wrist. When it was unwrapped, she raised her eyebrow and looked at Huen.
“Huen, who cared for you?”
“No one,” Huen said.
“Come now, I can tell you are lying. Tell me, who was it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A peasant girl on the outskirts of the city, by the show arena.”
“Well,” Zornaya said. “I do not say this readily, but I am impressed. This is some of the finest work I have seen in years.”
Huen frowned a
s he looked down at his wrist. There were large, crude stitches holding his flesh together, and the edges of the wound were green and yellow and festering with pus.
“It doesn’t look fine,” Huen said. He felt faintly nauseous looking at his hand – it no longer ached as badly, but it felt strange, almost like he was looking at the hand of someone else.
“I know that Huen,” Zornaya said. She wrapped his hand back up and tied the muslin strips in an expert knot. “But it will look much better tomorrow, trust me. Whoever took care of you did a wonderful job, you will heal perfectly.”
Huen blinked. He felt a twinge of guilt at having been so arrogant to Aine. But it’s not my fault, Huen decided as he bowed to the Queen and raced up the stairs to Aerdan’s tower chamber.
“Aerdan!” Huen yelled. “Let me in!”
Aerdan opened the door, laughing. Angelica was seated on the window bench, glancing out over the rolling waves of the Zhekan sea.
“Huen! What happened?” Angelica asked kindly. “Have you been hurt?”
Huen shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I got in a fight last night.”
Aerdan shook his head. “You should know better,” he said archly. “I’m not about to have my best friend get killed.”
“What’s the point,” Huen said, walking inside and taking a flagon of wine from the table. He poured himself a full goblet and drank most of it at once, letting the wine spill out of his mouth and dribble down his chin.
“Come on,” Aerdan said. “Things will work out for you, Huen. But I do not understand this depression!”
“Neither do I,” Huen said sourly. “I just wish everything would stop.”
Angelica frowned. “Huen, why not sit for a while. I’ll ring the kitchens and have dinner brought up – you look famished.”
Huen’s stomach rumbled. He was almost astonished to realize that he’d had little to eat in almost two days, aside from some thin gruel that Aine had fed him.
“Fine,” Huen said. “But it’s not going to cheer me up.”
“Such a sourpuss,” Angelica said, rolling her eyes. She put a cloak on over her simple nightgown. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Just running down to the kitchens for a moment.”
As soon as she was gone, Huen poured himself another hefty goblet of wine and helped himself.
“Why does she do that?” He asked, gesturing to the door. “You have so many servants.”
Aerdan rolled his eyes. “I have no idea,” he said. “She’s just that way.”
“Odd,” Huen said. He frowned, unable to imagine a life without luxuries and servants. Even performing intense manual labor over the past two months wasn’t as bad for Huen as it was for most – at the end of each backbreaking day, he had a warm bed to come home to, servants, a delicious meal of meat and bread and cheeses and fruits.
Angelica returned, carrying a tray with stew, hunks of bread, and cheese. “The kitchen is going to send up a heartier meal, but I thought we could eat this now as we wait,” she said, setting it down in front of Huen.
Huen fell upon the stew and bread, dipping the chunks into the savory broth and cramming them into his mouth.
“So, what shall we talk about?” Aerdan asked. He reached for his wooden flute. “Shall I play?”
Huen shook his head, then turned to Angelica with his mouth still crammed with food. “Tell me about a story from your land,” he said. “I’m sick of this one – I want to close my eyes and think of myself in a distant place.”
Angelica smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Have I told you the one about the giant ship yet?”
“I don’t think so,” Huen said.
Aerdan laughed. “Oh, this is a good one,” he said. “But it’s so sad!”
Angelica nodded. She gave Huen a kind smile. “It should distract you, at least, from your troubles here.”
Huen took a long gulp of wine. “Yes,” he said. After a moment, feeling boorish, he added: “Please.”
Angelica settled down on a large cushion, looking smug and satisfied.
“So, many years ago – there was a very large ship built meant to cross a huge ocean.” Angelica spread her hands wide, showing the large span. “This ship was the biggest ship the world had ever seen. The rich and wealthy were drawn to the prospect of crossing the waters on this ship because it was the most luxurious they had ever seen.”
Huen nodded, impressed. “Go on.”
“Over three thousand people could fit onboard, including staff,” Angelica said. “And even the lowest, poorest accommodations – they called it steerage, back then – were prohibitively expensive.”
“Wow,” Huen said. “Why would people want to pay so much, just to travel on a boat?” He sat up and looked outside, glancing over the harbor. “I could go on a ship tomorrow if that’s what I wanted.”
“Things were…different, then,” Angelica said. “The world was nothing like this world, there was no magic.”
“No magic?” Huen frowned. “How…how is that even possible?”
Angelica laughed. “It just was,” she said.
“But who healed people?”
“Doctors,” Angelica said. “But sometimes, people died. Often, in fact. The medical care was poor, and not a lot was known about the human body.”
Huen winced. “Why would anyone want to live in such an awful place?”
Angelica laughed at his innocent ignorance. “Anyway, so, back to the ship. A very wealthy woman and her family boarded, along with her fiancé, who was also wealthy. But she did not love him – she thought of jumping off the ship to kill herself. She was saved by a poor man.”
Huen laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It was,” Angelica said. “And then, they fell in love. The woman told her family that she wouldn’t be going with them once the ship docked and that she wanted to go with the man she’d fallen in love with.”
Huen frowned.
“I know, it sounds strange,” Angelica said dryly. “But the ship was not to land – it crashed, against a huge block of ice in the middle of the ocean.” She paused and cleared her throat, reaching for a glass of water. “The woman stayed with the poor man, she even gave up her chance at being rescued just so she could stay with him?”
“What happened?” Huen closed his eyes, trying to imagine the black, icy sea swirling around him. He shivered. She’s a good storyteller, he thought. I wonder where she comes up with these tales.
“The poor man died, he froze to death in the water,” Angelica said. “The rich woman survived, but she never forgot her first love.”
Huen blinked. “That…was not quite what I was expecting,” he said.
Angelica shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said. She grinned. “But I see I’ve distracted you, at least.”
“I suppose you have,” Huen said, frowning. Suddenly, the idea of living as he had been seemed worse than ever. He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing that he, too, could sail away on a giant luxurious boat, as big as a castle.
“Are you feeling cheered, friend?” Aerdan asked. “Would you like something else to eat?”
Huen frowned and shook his head. He felt worse than ever – seeing his friend and cousin, Aerdan, so happy with Angelica was almost unbearable. He wasn’t jealous, exactly. It was more of a longing to find happiness and contentment the same way that Aerdan had.
That’s never going to happen to me, Huen thought. And whenever I meet a girl I could actually like, I behave like a fool. Again, Aine’s lovely face popped into his head and he shuddered.
Huen reached for the wine and poured himself a huge glass. He downed it, tilting his head back until tiny rivers of crimson spilled over his chin.
“Huen,” Aerdan said in a warning tone. “What is it, my friend? What is causing you to act like this?”
“Why couldn’t I just get my way,” Huen complained, slurring his words. “Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life, surrounded by books, just like I want? Why do I have to marry some stupid wife?”
Aerdan chuckled. “Friend, you have had too much wine,” he said gently, reaching for Huen’s glass. Huen staggered backward, still clutching the goblet. Before Aerdan could intervene, he threw his head back and chugged the rest of his wine.
“Huen,” Aerdan said. “Come now, to bed with you. You will feel better in the morning.”
“No, I will not,” Huen slurred. “I am going home,” he added, staggering toward the chamber door.
“Aerdan,” Angelica said nervously. “Stop him, I’m really worried!”
“It’s his life,” Aerdan said. “But Huen, I beg you to stay, friend. The night is young, come, we will make merry until you’ve forgotten all of your troubles.”
