THOR: Sci-Fi Romance (Far Hope Series Book 1)

by E. A. James

  Her hand patted against a cool, gritty surface before a large hand encased her own. “Leonie,” Adrik whispered his grip on her soft—practically limp. “How do you feel?”

  She squeezed his rocky fingers and croaked, “Tired. Sore. But I’m okay.” She blinked hard again, details amidst the dark ceiling growing sharper. She turned her head and her eyes landed on Adrik, his face contorted with worry. Affection bloomed in her chest. “Really, Adrik, I’m fine.”

  His face didn’t relax any.

  Somewhere else in the room, the guards continued to speak with the King. Something about orders, confusion—

  “She’s awake!” King Gier cried. “Thank the gods!” He popped up right in front of her face, his beard tickling her nose before he held it back with both hands. “Young Duchess, I plead for your forgiveness for this horrible event that took place. Rest assured, we will find the culprit who hired that assassin immediately!”

  “It’s okay,” she rasped. She cleared her throat. “The important thing is that I’m alive. And this should help convincing people that something dangerous is upon the Kingdom of Sallimor.”

  Adrik squeezed her hand a little too tightly before loosening his grip again.

  The king nodded, stroking his beard and leaning back on his haunches. “Yes…yes, this should be a cautionary tale for those who doubt the words of Mathsus! I must speak with my daughter about this matter.”

  Another face came into view, more wrinkled than the previous one, her tied-up hair a brighter white than Gier’s. “I’ve made the bleeding cease,” the elderly healer said, smoky voice and all, “but the innards are still fragile. Keep yourself still for the next couple of days.”

  Leonie shook her head. “The assassin—”

  “Is certainly dead, and not going anywhere. I’ll study his body for clues, along with some anatomy scholars.” The old Healer patted Leonie’s shoulder. “Rest, child. Don’t undo my good work.”

  Leonie closed her eyes, a breath puffing past her lips before she nodded her consent.

  “Good,” the Healer said. “If that is all, then I must go and attend to a corpse.” She shuffled away.

  Noises filtered all around Leonie—voices of a few guards who had remained, footsteps, the walls groaning—but it felt like silence had descended upon her as Adrik continued to hold her hand. He said nothing to her, nor to anyone else.

  Leonie opened her eyes and looked at him again. “Adrik, I’m alright. Truly.”

  He stared at her hand—a tiny thing compared to his own. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “You almost weren’t.” His jaw ticked a little, his eyes going blank before a glassy look came over them.

  Her heart sank. “Look at me, Adrik.” When he ignored her, she tugged his hand.

  Sighing, he shifted his glazed eyes to her.

  “I’m okay,” she said, a little louder than before. “It’s all okay—”

  A door creaked open.

  Adrik shot up to his feet and sneered at whoever was at the door. He clutched Leonie’s hand tight, her fingers tangled in a painful way. And then two seconds later, he relaxed, though his eyes stayed narrowed.

  “Apologies,” King Gier said. “I didn’t mean to disturb, I simply wished to retrieve my gown. I cannot see my daughter looking like this!” He walked over somewhere, grabbed his gown—and then he walked back to the door. “Rest assured, we have doubled the guard.”

  “How fortunate,” Adrik growled.

  King Gier hobbled out of the room, the door creaking close behind him.

  A couple of the guards whispered together.

  Adrik released a long breath.

  Frowning, Leonie tried to sit up—Adrik couldn’t be allowed to stay so stressed—but a sharp pain shot up her side, and she jolted into a frozen position of discomfort.

  Adrik gently pushed her back down, her hand still in his. “What are you doing? The Healer said to rest. Why must you be so defiant all the time?” If the words had been meant to sound reprimanding, the effect was ruined by the crack in his voice.

  “Not all the time,” she gritted out, forcing herself to smile at him. “Only when it involves things that are important.”

  His brow rose, his face stiffening further. Though, despite his obvious attempt to appear stoic, his eyes gave him away—always gave him away. They shone too brightly as they focused in on her own eyes.

  The intensity of his stare made her blush, guilt quick to follow the pleasant feeling. Getting such attention was nice, but Adrik clearly wasn’t in a good place. Now wasn’t the time to be reveling in his affection—if he truly had any for her.

  She glanced at their hands, still entwined. His thumb had gone still over her knuckles, so she moved her own thumb up the side of his hand. “What can I do to help you?”

  He scoffed, bowing his head. “You attract trouble. I should hardly be this surprised.”

  Her gut rolled at that. There was truth in the jest, after all. “Maybe you should go on to the Kingdom of Maylorn. You can warn the royals there—or maybe just your family, at least.” Get him away from her, and he wouldn’t need to deal with all of this. She fought against a cringe and kept staring at his hand on hers. The pressure, the texture—it was all so…nice.

  He smirked, though the playfulness of the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. “And leave you to your troubles? That seems unwise.”

  “They’re my troubles, though, and you—it makes sense to go to Maylorn, does it not?”

  “Leonie,” he whispered, “I won’t leave you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes watering.

  “Besides,” he said, glancing away, “Maylorn’s no doubt heard of the Mad Duchess’s proclamations by now. There’s not really a need for anyone to rush over there.”

  Emotions swelled in her torso and seared through her veins. She could barely breathe past it all, her skin tingling and her heart pounding hard. She gazed at Adrik, a brave and dedicated soul—even if he was on the irritable side—and she felt herself longing for him.

  Adrik’s brow lowered. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  She swallowed, a shaky sigh escaping her. “I just…I care for you. And it makes me—it makes it hard to think.” Her lips twitched upward. “I never imagined I could feel so…in so short a time? You hear about all those tales of warriors and princesses, but you never really think it’d be like that.”

  His eyes widened a little, shoulders rising. For a few seconds, he remained frozen in some kind of state of shock, or perhaps, in a state of horror.

  Leonie went cold, dread sinking from her throat to her belly. She kept staring at him—kept hoping she was reading him wrong—and he kept gaping at her in return.

  Eventually, she forced herself to close her eyes and laugh. “I must be so tired, saying such gibberish to you. I’ll make more sense after I rest. Like the Healer said.”

  “Yes,” Adrik choked out. “That would be best.”

  Her lips quivered, a sob pressing against her throat. She gulped it down and turned away, her cheek pressing against a flat pillow.

  A moment later, Adrik released her hand.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The remnants of a nightmare tensed her back as Leonie opened her eyes, dawn’s sunlight seeping through the curtains of the Healer’s room. The Healer snored in her large bed at the end of the room, Adrik snoozing in a small bed next to Leonie’s. Guards were still in the room, though they looked different from the guards Leonie had seen hours ago.

  She rubbed her sore eyes and stretched, gasping as a dulled pain bloomed in her side. She patted the bandages absently—still dry, no torn stitches and no disrupted magic.

  Assassin, her mind reminded her.

  Adrik’s rejection.

  Leonie closed her eyes as sorrow spiked up her chest. Inhaling sharply, she pushed herself into a sitting position—swaying a bit.

  The guards said nothing. Good.

  She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “
Mathsus,” she whispered, “I was almost killed doing your will. Please make sense of this to me. How can I help if I don’t understand how?”

  She was met with silence.

  Her nostrils flared. “Very well.” She pulled her hands apart and pushed herself off her little bed, grinding her teeth together as pain pulsated through her torso. “I still have faith,” she breathed, “but if I must do this alone, so be it.” She limped over to the window and pushed the curtains aside.

  Even these windows were fastened shut. So her intruder must have come through her bedroom door—the only way to enter the room. That meant that either the guards hadn’t been there, or the guards had let her attacker inside.

  Leonie eyed the current guards, who blinked at her. Some glanced away, though they remained sturdy in their positions along the wall and beside the door.

  Maybe the assassin somehow sneaked past the guards or had used a diversion to slip in unnoticed.

  Leonie pressed one hand against her side and the other hand against the wall, her feet shuffling over the tiles as she made her way toward the guards. They frowned at her, and she frowned back. Though her heartbeat sped up, she refused to be afraid—refused to not face down those who risked the safety of innocents. She would ask whatever questions she needed, and she would—

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She jolted, hissing in pain and glaring to the side.

  Adrik rose from his cot, his feet thumping against the ground as he hurried up to her. “You’re going to injure yourself further.” His hands hovered over her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, swiping blindly at him. She shuffled forward, only to have his arm block her—trap her against the wall and his broad chest. She sighed. “Adrik, two kingdoms hang in the balance, and I’m pretty sure it had something to do with the person who tried to kill me last night. I’ll rest more after, but right now, we must look into this before it is too late.”

  “What good does investigating do if you end up passing out before any real work gets done?”

  “I won’t pass out.”

  “That’s right because you’re going back to bed.”

  “I’m not a child.” She pushed off the wall and pressed her belly against his arm. But as she tried to walk onward—tried to shove him out of the way—his arm didn’t move, and she ended up panting and wincing. “Okay, maybe I’m physically as weak as a child for now, but that doesn’t make you right.” She grabbed his upper arm to steady herself. “Move.”

  “Leonie,” he rumbled, his low voice vibrating through her flesh, “I understand your concern, and you’re right to an extent. But you were just sliced open the night before. Let yourself rest for a little while more. Please.”

  Her heartbeat stuttered. Please? Adrik had never pleaded for anything.

  “We’ll save the entire world in no time,” Adrik said with a gentle smile, “but not if you keel over first.”

  She squeezed his arm, sturdy and cold as ever. Her lips curled downward, even as her chest warmed. “Fine. I’ll rest for another hour.”

  “Two.”

  “One and a half.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Very well.”

  Grinning with triumph, she pushed off the wall and leaned fully against her Gargan friend. Despite his rigid texture, his clothing felt soft and smooth. But he kept her close—kept her standing and not sliding down his shirt—as he guided her back to their small beds.

  “We still should warn Maylorn,” Leonie said, slowly lowering herself to her bed. She huffed. “Someone needs to tell them something, especially with assassins on the loose.”

  “You say that like they’re a plague that just formed last night.”

  “Might as well be,” she grumbled.

  Adrik turned and asked one of the guards to speak to the King about sending a messenger to the Kingdom of Maylorn.

  “Yes, sir,” one guard said, moving stiffly as he marched out of the room.

  “Happy?” Adrik asked her.

  “A little,” she admitted. “Thanks.”

  He nodded.

  She stared at the ceiling and squirmed, memories becoming more clouded the longer she tried to focus on them.

  Last night, the door had opened—hadn’t it? Or something had moved in front of the door? Was there a secret entrance somewhere?

  The thoughts clarified nothing, just making her head ache and her chest tightened. When the hour and a half came and went, she practically shoved herself off the bed and stumbled toward the door.

  Adrik rushed to her side and let her lean against him. “You’re relentless,” he murmured.

  “As are you,” she said.

  He snorted.

  Once they stood right in front of the guards, she panted out, “Do you know how the assassin got into my room? Who were the guards on duty outside my room?”

  The guards glanced at each other. The one in front of her—a brunette with dark eyes—stepped forward and answered. “I’ve only heard that he entered through the door. I’m unsure which guards were stationed there, and I’m unsure if they have gone unpunished or not.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Come on then,” she said as she limped toward the door, Adrik a heavy but strong crutch. “Let’s go to the scene of the crime and take a closer look at everything.”

  The guards stood off to the side as she and Adrik wandered around the guest bedroom. But they found nothing new. Sealed windows, only one door to the room—

  Leonie glared at the covers scattered over the floor from where she had rolled off the bed.

  “You alright?” Adrik whispered in her ear.

  She shivered, attempting to press closer against him. She pulled away instead, feeling cold. “Yes. Just frustrated.” She looked at the guards. “Were any of you at least near this room—or in the hallway—last night? Did you see or hear anything important?”

  They all shook their head, except for one—the brunette with the dark eyes. He stared at his feet, face contorted like he was in pain.

  Leonie pointed to him. “You. If you know something, you must say it. There’s too much at stake to keep quiet about such matters.”

  The guard blew out a taut breath. “Well…I wasn’t right here, but I was stationed at the very end of this hallway. I heard you scream, and when I ran to this room, there weren’t any guards in front of it or in front of the Gargan’s door.”

  Adrik stiffened.

  The other guards sneered at him, and he hunched in response.

  “Where were they?” Leonie asked.

  The guard shrugged. “I don’t know, Young Duchess. I came into your room, and a few seconds later, others came running into the room to assist me. No one was far away, just…”

  “Not close enough,” she said. She pressed her knuckles against her chin, her brow furrowing. “You know nothing else.”

  “I don’t, truly,” the guard said.

  Adrik growled, his grip on Leonie tightening a little. “So you don’t know why she was left defenseless last night?” He stepped forward and postured up to the guard.

  Leonie tugged at Adrik, but he didn’t budge. The effort caused her to wince and huff. “Adrik, one thing at a time. We need to figure out what happened, not attack each other.”

  “Not yet,” he muttered, relaxing a little against her soft weight.

  “Do you have a guards’ station or something?” Leonie asked, remembering her own kingdom’s buildings for such occupants. “Some place in the palace or the kingdom where the guards are assigned their duties.”

  “A few,” the guard said quietly. “The station for assignments within the palace is on the ground floor, in the Southwest tower.”

  “Then that is our next destination. Someone has to know something about last night, and I’ll scour this entire kingdom until I find him or her.”

  “As will I,” Adrik said slowing, scowling at all the guards.

  The guards’ station was nothing more but a cramped room in the corner of the rectangul
ar tower. There were a few chairs and tables within it, notes and schedules scattered everywhere. It was a disgraceful mess.

  The guard coordinator on duty walked up to a glass shelf and motioned toward the piles of papers. “These are the schedules and duty assignments from the past month.” He searched through them. “The one from last night should be right on top, but I don’t see it.”

  Adrik guided Leonie down into a chair, his fingers brushing over her bandages. Once she was settled—facial muscles relaxed—he stormed over to the guard and shoved him to the side. “I’ll find it. Why don’t you and your men do your job right for a change and watch the doors for me?”