by E. A. James
Huen hiccupped, staggering toward the door. “No,” he mumbled under his breath. “I will not stay.”
As soon as Huen opened the chamber door and began making his drunken way down the stairs, Aerdan’s loud protests sounded like buzzing in his ears. He staggered and groped his way down to the ground floor, almost falling more than once.
Outside the castle, a carnival was taking place. Huen stared at the bright torches of the fire-breathers, debating the idea of grabbing one and setting himself on fire.
No, he thought. That is the coward’s way to die, and I am no coward.
Instead, Huen staggered away from the castle, through the village, and back to the outskirts of town where the show arena blazed brightly in the cool night air. There was a man lying on his back in full armor, obviously passed out. Huen stepped closer as the moon came out from behind a cover of clouds. Huen saw a flash of silver on the ground and he reached down, groping for the man’s sword.
It was surprisingly heavy, but Huen grabbed it firmly with his good hand and trudged on to the arena. I’ll die like a man, he thought. And then mother – and everyone else – won’t be able to speak ill of me, ever again. He gritted his teeth and staggered into the arena.
The arena was much more crowded tonight. Dueling men moved past in blurs of greased skin and ink, dried blood crusting their old wounds and fresh blood gushing from their new ones. Huen swung the sword over his shoulder and let out a cry.
“Who here is the most powerful among you?” Huen yelled. “I challenge you!”
There was a rumble among the men. After a few seconds, a large man stepped out. His neck thicker than his head, and he was covered in victory tattoos, scars, and dried blood. His head was shaved and it glistened in the dim light of the fire.
“I am Phaelenx,” the man roared. “And I will destroy you – if you so desire!”
Huen braced himself, planting both feet on the ground and swinging his sword. His injured wrist was throbbing with pain. As Phaelenx charged toward Huen, Huen’s heart skipped a beat. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might be making a colossal mistake…a mistake that could cost him his life. Like that stupid ship, Huen thought, recalling vague memories of Angelica’s story. I’m going to die!
Phaelenx growled as he approached. Huen gripped his sword even tighter and swung it through the air, aiming for Phaelenx’s neck. But Phaelenx was quicker. He darted to the side, easily avoiding the blow of Huen’s sword.
Swinging the sword so sharply knocked Huen off balance, and he staggered backward, still clutching the heavy weapon in his good hand. His arm ached and he was soaked with sweat, but he clenched his jaw, determined not to give up.
“I will kill you, royal,” Phaelenx growled. He swung his leg through the air in a powerful kick, knocking Huen’s feet out from under him. Huen crashed down to the ground, twisting his ankle and landing painfully on his broken wrist. A crowd of men had surrounded the duo and they were chanting and cheering, obviously hungry for blood.
Go ahead, then, kill me, Huen thought bleakly as he lay on the ground. Phaelenx stood above him, glowering down. He reached down and ripped the sword from Huen’s grasp, then held it with both hands and plunged it down into Huen’s chest.
For a moment, the wound felt like nothing at all. Then a cold, painful sensation spread through Huen’s body and he shivered and jerked. Hot blood began to gush from the wound.
“Finish him!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “Finish this man!”
The crowd jeered and booed, clapping their hands. Huen’s eyelids fluttered and he felt himself slipping away from reality.
Suddenly, the cries and shouts stopped. The onlookers of the crowd fell silent.
“Who is she?” Someone yelled loudly. “Get this girl out of here!”
Girl? The word sounded foreign in Huen’s muddy subconscious. Who, Angelica? Why is she here?
Huen struggled to keep his eyes open. When he saw the slight silhouette of a girl with long hair running towards him, he knew.
It wasn’t Angelica.
It was Aine.
CHAPTER FOUR
Aine
“What are you doing here?” A gruff man holding a war axe thundered at Aine. “You cannot interrupt these shows, peasant!”
“There is no show tonight,” Aine said pleasantly. Her heart was pounding and she was terrified. Seeing Huen on the ground, bleeding and gasping for air, was a horrifying sight. She knew that unless he received medical care – and very quickly – he would likely die.
“What does a peasant like you know?” The man grumbled, stepping closer.
Aine drew herself to her full height and tilted her chin up in the air. “That man is my ward,” she said. “And he has escaped, yet again.” She pointed to his wrist. “I fixed that just the other day.”
The man stared at Aine for what felt like an eternity. Hurry up, she thought, glancing anxiously down at Huen’s bleeding form. Then, to her immense relief, he burst into laughter.
“You must start taking better care of your wards, then,” the man said. “Go on, take him, before the Lions get him.”
Aine shivered at the thought. She bent down at the knee and scooped Huen tenderly in her arms. This time, she could tell, he was much worse off. His skin was clammy and cold, and his fine silk tunic was stained and ruined with the blood flowing from the wound in his chest.
Aine dipped her head in a silence as she struggled to carry Huen over the hill and into her parents’ small home. It took her far longer than she hoped. When she arrived, she set Huen down by the fire, quickly washed her hands in the spring, and got to work packing his wound with herbs and gauze.
Huen didn’t wake the entire time. He slipped in and out of consciousness, mumbling and murmuring. His eyelids twitched and he foamed at the mouth until Aine made a calming potion and poured it down his throat, gently rubbing his throat to make sure that he was swallowing.
Mie watched from her table, where she was sewing.
“You care an awful lot about this man who apparently has a death wish,” she said. “What, are you hoping he’ll awake and decide to make you his bride?”
“No,” Aine said. She shook her head and sighed. “I…I don’t know what it is, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about him.” Now that Huen was back in her care, that was truer than ever before. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she’d actually found herself thinking of him quite a bit after he’d left.
It didn’t surprise her at all that he was back in front of her hearth with a sword wound to his chest. Aine went over his wounds, searching his body for any hint of disease or infection. He’d managed to break his wrist, yet again, and she set it – this time, using two broad sticks to hold the wrist in place as she wrapped strips of muslin around the wound.
By the time the sun was coming up, Aine was exhausted. She mixed a small sleeping potion for herself from Mie’s spellbook and took a short nap, lying down on the ground right next to Huen. Something about him – even though he wasn’t conscious – comforted her immensely.
In the morning, Aine reluctantly got up and went about her chores. She made gruel and a small loaf of bread for Mie and Thom and swept the house out before sitting down with a pile of sewing. Huen’s face was still bloodless and soaked with sweat, but he looked better than he had the night before. The wound in his chest had finally stopped bleeding, and Aine changed out the bandages, grimacing as she took hunks of blood-soaked gauze from his chest.
Please don’t die, Aine thought, looking down at his handsome face. You are the only exciting thing that has ever happened to me.
Suddenly, Huen’s eyes flew open. His velvety brown eyes locked with Aine’s, and she felt a strange shiver run down her spine. What is this, Aine wondered, her cheeks flushing pink. Why do I feel so strange?
To her immense shock, Huen smiled. Faintly, but it was there.
“You again,” Huen croaked. A look of sharp pain came over his face and he closed his eyes again, lett
ing his head rest on the pillow of straw.
“Yes,” Aine said. She got up and went to her mother’s herb table, mixing a potion of wormwood. She brought it back and handed it to Huen, who drank without a word.
“You’re in terrible shape,” Aine said softly, resisting the urge to caress Huen’s sculpted cheek. “And I think you likely would have died if I hadn’t run into the arena and saved your life.”
Huen’s eyes went wide. “That…that was not a dream?”
Aine laughed humorlessly. “No,” she said softly. “That was not a dream. It really happened, I can promise you,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “My back still aches from carrying you all the way back here.”
Huen nodded and took a deep breath, then gasped. “By the gods, how it hurts,” he moaned. “What happened to me?”
Aine bit her lip. “You were fighting with Phaelenx,” she said softly. “He is the strongest, you know.” She frowned and shook her head. “Good gods, why did you engage with him?”
Huen looked at her crossly. “I do not need a lecture from you,” he said. His voice was still tinged with arrogance, but Aine could detect a note of gratitude in there as well.
“Well, that is too bad,” Aine said quietly. “You must promise me – you won’t go into the arena and antagonize those awful men!”
Huen stared at her. “Why? Why should I promise you anything?”
Aine sighed, glancing quickly over her shoulder. Mie wasn’t paying attention – her head was dipped low and her eyes were narrowing focused on her needlework.
“Because,” Aine said in a low voice. “I think we can help each other.”
Huen stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head. He strained and struggled to sit up, groaning with the effort of it all. Aine pushed him firmly back down on the hearth.
Huen narrowed his eyes and squinted. “What in the name of the gods,” he said. “You should let me go home. I’ll receive better medical care there.”
Aine raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Really? You don’t even feel like listening to what I have to say?”
“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Huen groaned in pain as he struggled to sit up once more.
“Stay,” Aine said. She shook her head. “What, are you planning on going out and getting yourself ripped up again? Not on my watch,” she added sternly.
Aine was shocked to see a faint pink flush appear on Huen’s cheeks.
“Thank you,” Huen said. “I mean, for your care. For taking care of me.”
“For saving your life?” Aine countered, resisting the urge to smirk. “That’s pretty big, you know.”
“I know,” Huen said. “I really should be going.”
“Not yet,” Aine replied. She leaned in close and a shiver ran down her back. This is the closest we’ve been while he’s awake, she thought, biting the inside of her mouth. Why am I so attracted to this rude man?
“What?” Huen asked. “What do you want, now?”
Aine sighed. “Look,” she said softy, again glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Mie was occupied. “I know you’re not happy,” she continued quietly. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t be running to the arena every night, trying to get yourself killed during a show.”
Huen frowned. “You do not know me,” he said, his voice laced with arrogance. “What could you possibly know about me?”
Aine rolled her eyes. “You are exhausting,” she said, crossing her arms over her narrow chest. “But I can tell you – it is incredibly obvious, Huen,” she added. “Obviously, I don’t know much about your life. You’re rich, yeah, anyone can see that. But it’s more than that. You have some kind of death wish.”
Huen glared at her.
“Be angry all you want,” Aine said, shrugging. “But I am not happy, either.” She sighed.
Huen raised an eyebrow and smirked. Even though he was covered in bruises and dried blood, he was still incredibly handsome.
“So, this is really about you,” Huen said slyly. “You could’ve just started with that, you know.”
“It’s not,” Aine replied. “It’s about both of us.”
Huen stared at her for a long moment. “You must be kidding,” he said. “Surely, you don’t expect me to marry you just because you saved my life?”
Aine’s jaw dropped. “No,” she said, much more loudly than she intended. She winced. “How can you suggest such a thing?”
“Then I do not understand,” Huen said. “What exactly do you want?”
Aine shook her head and laughed. “I can’t believe you’d think I just want to marry,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s so insulting! You men really are impossible.”
Huen stared at her.
“All I am saying,” Aine continued quietly. “Is that perhaps, since we are both so unhappy, we could come up with a solution to our problems. Sometimes, two minds can figure these things out much easier than one mind, you know,” she said.
Huen sighed.
“I can tell you are not used to talking to women,” Aine continued. “And I know you are unwed – obviously, despite that horrific proposal you just threw in my face – so what is the trouble?” She leaned closer. “Are you…attracted to men? Is that why you’re so unhappy?”
Now it was Huen’s turn to look shocked.
“No,” Huen sputtered after a long moment of silence. He flushed again and shook his head. “No, certainly not,” he said.
Aine giggled. “So, what is it then? Why are you so unhappy?”
Huen sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. He winced as he lay back down on the hearth.
“Try me,” Aine said. She leaned over Huen and looked at the gaping wound in his chest. “And this needs to be changed,” she added smoothly. Getting to her feet, Aine went outside to rinse her hands in the spring before preparing a change of herbs and gauze.
Huen lay still, his face tense as Aine’s nimble fingers plucked the bloody lump from his wound and gently rinsed it with water.
“By the gods, how it hurts,” Huen said through gritted teeth. “Why does it have to sting so much?”
“Hold your tongue,” Aine said. “I will be finished soon.”
Huen closed his eyes and groaned as Aine finished packing the wound with fresh herbs.
“There,” she said, rubbing her hands together and drying them on her tattered apron. “Better?”
“Not much,” Huen complained. “It still aches.”
“Why don’t you think I would understand?”
Huen sighed. “Do we have to keep talking about this?” He yawned. “I’m exhausted.”
“I’m sure you are,” Aine chirped.
“You are very persistent, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Aine said. “And the sooner you tell me, the sooner I’ll give you a potion for sleep.”
Huen stared at her. “You are something else,” he said slowly. “No one talks to me like this, save for my mother.”
“Are you lonely? Is that it?”
“No,” Huen said. “I have friends, royal cousins, a large family. If anything, I wish for more peace and quiet.” He narrowed his eyes at Aine. “Which I am certainly not getting right now, am I?”
Aine flushed. “I am sorry,” she said. “You must understand – this isn’t a normal for me, either.”
“It is just…well, I am not sure how to say this,” Huen said. He lifted his head and looked down at the large wound in his chest. “But I…I do not care for the Zhekan way. I do not wish to be seen only for my strength.”
Aine giggled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t make that mistake,” she said softly. When Huen glared, she threw him a guilty look. “I am sorry,” she said. “But it’s rather obvious you’re not a champion fighter. Why keep pushing yourself?”
Huen sighed. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
Aine softened. “Well, if you had a choice – what would you do? If you could do anything in the world, what would i
t be?”
Huen’s brown eyes took on a soft cast in the dim light of the hut. “I wish for knowledge,” he said softly. “I wish to be a learned man. Not just of spellcraft and women’s magic, but all things. How the world works – how the sky sometimes rains and yet is free of clouds.”
Aine blinked. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly. “So, why can’t you become a scholar?”
Huen laughed. “Don’t be foolish,” he said. “I’m expected to marry and start a family of my own. And spend the rest of my life flexing my muscles and catering to my wife’s every whim.”
