by Lisa Rector
I’m getting used to it, Seren said.
You sound upset.
I’m not. Just concerned.
“One thing at a time.” Owein stood, searching the room with his eyes.
“Does she live?” I asked. “Did I succeed in healing the queen? What are you looking for?”
It was Owein’s turn to brighten. “Your clothes. Yes, she’s well. In fact… I’ll just call a maid. If you’re strong enough…”
Owein was acting peculiar. My eyes focused on him. “Look at you!” A cream-colored shirt with fancy puffed sleeves peeked from under a crisp linen vest. New pressed trousers settled over highly polished boots. A surcoat in a lime green fabric was draped over the back of his vacated chair. “You’re dressed as if you’re headed to a feast.”
“I am.”
“When?”
“In a few hours. Will you be recovered enough to join me?”
I was at a loss. Owein cleaned up well. His hair was even combed and set with a shiny substance. “I might be.”
“I’m sorry, that’s selfish. I’m just overjoyed you’re awake.” He was more than overjoyed. Owein was so flustered his eyes were shining. “The king is having a celebration, to honor the queen’s recovery. And you’re a guest of honor.”
I scoffed. “Whether I was awake to attend or not, I see.”
“I’ll fetch a maid. She’ll bring you food and find you a gown. Once that’s settled, we’ll see about checking on the queen. She’s been asking for you.”
***
The queen’s bedchamber looked nothing like the weary and depressed room I had entered three days earlier. The curtains to the balcony were thrown wide and the doors, flung open. Gentle moonlight swathed the room.
I swished in, wearing a full-length, green, empire-waist gown. The style was fluffy, more so than the elegant dresses worn to extravaganzas in Gorlassar. Even so, the dress smoothed over me as if one with my body.
Sorfrona sat comfortably in a stuffed armchair, looking proper. And blossoming with radiance!
I rushed forward and crouched by her knees, taking her hand in mine. “Your Majesty. Remarkable!”
Sorfrona was still too thin, but life gleamed in her countenance.
She patted my hand. “You sound surprised. Did you not have faith in your own skill?”
Embarrassed, I said. “You’re a miracle. You lay on the cusp of death. I labored for a long time to restore your body, and for a while, I feared the worst. I’m not a healer in my world.”
The queen laughed. “Dear child, what are you then?”
“A warrior.”
“Well, a warrior of many talents.” Sorfrona touched her throat. “Would you be so kind as to fill my goblet? I can’t seem to drink enough water.”
I nodded. “My throat has been parched since I woke as well. It’s the surge of light. I was too zealous with your healing. You might be thirsty for a few days.”
“I’m a tad shaky, but don’t tell the king.”
I stood and glanced around. I spotted the carafe on a bureau. “Your secret’s safe with me, as long as you don’t tire yourself this evening. No dancing. I suspect it’s the lack of blood. Are you woozy when you stand?” I moved across the room.
“No.”
“Good. I wish my skills extended to creating blood, but emrys can’t do that.”
“You shall have to tell me what you can do after the banquet. I’m afraid I’ll be thoroughly engaged all night.”
“I shall, Your Majesty. I want to talk to you about something too.” I had a feeling asking the queen, in Seren’s behalf, would be easier than asking the king. Even though I was sure his thanks equaled Sorfrona’s.
I filled her glass and was ready to turn around—
“Mother!” an unfamiliar man cried out.
Footsteps rushed into the room. Relief, to the point of tears, rushed in with the owner. I set the glass down and gripped the bureau with both hands because I was so overwhelmed. I choked back his awe.
The man was light. And happiness. He was a spring day waking after a dead winter. Seedlings pushing through cracked soil, fueled by long-awaited rain.
I didn’t turn around but listened as he blubbered over his mother. “Forgive me for failing. Forgive my absence. I never wanted to leave you as sick as you were, but I was determined. And to think, your salvation was here all along. How can this be? Look at you. Kenrik told me your recovery was a miracle. How?”
“Kelyn, my son,” Sorfrona cooed. “You are returned. I am well. Let us not talk of past sorrows. Tonight we shall rejoice. Celebrate the fall harvest—”
“And your life.”
“Yes.”
More weeping. Oh, Deian. I wanted to sneak out. I disliked intruding on such a private reunion between two mortals. Their feelings were so raw. So untamed. Savage in ferocity. I was going to break. No more course emotions. No more heart-stabbing pangs. Throw a few walls up, you… you humans!
I turned, wishing I were invisible. Kelyn’s dark tawny head nuzzled into Sorfrona’s neck. I prayed he wouldn’t notice as I moved to the door.
He sniffed and lifted his head. “I don’t want to ruin your gown—”
Prince Kelyn saw me and shot to his feet. He brushed his hands over his tailored vest and cleared his throat, ignoring his red eyes and nose. “Forgive me. I thought we were alone. In my haste to see Mother…”
Not above her dignity, Sorfrona snickered. “Kelyn, this is Niawen.”
He blinked and ran his hand over his square jawline. I smiled at his full lips parted with musing. His eyes captured mine. Purely blue like a shimmering lake—aquamarine even. And bold, despite the red in his whites.
“You’re Niawen.” He croaked a little laugh before tripping around Sorfrona’s side table, unable to take his eyes from my face. “So it’s all true. Finding the sorceress in the scrolls was only a hope. A whim. I left to search for someone like you, not knowing if the journey was for naught.”
I suppressed a smile and shrugged. “I must be a dream.”
“Surely.” He regained his grace and swept over to me, still only a few steps from the bureau.
“What did my brother call you? An em…”
“Emrys.”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, not taking his eyes from my face. “You are indescribable.”
I froze inside. Oh no. These mortals with their fascination over me. Were we immortals that captivating? My skin was lustrous and smooth, and my features were flawless with an ideal symmetry, but the gaping mouths of admirers and their eyes bulging with envy were too much.
At least the prince had shut his mouth.
***
I found myself sandwiched between Owein and Kelyn at the great long table. With the feast in full swing, patrons talked above the raucous din, attempting to hold impossible conversations. Music added to the chaos, but not one person minded, least of all the crown prince.
Though I had been the means of securing the queen’s health, Owein was honored along with me, as my accomplice, as if we committed a righteous crime. So we sat at the head of the room. Kelyn monopolized the conversation, but while he drew from his goblet, I leaned over to Owein.
“You might be the only person who’s not having fun. What bothers you?”
“Drat, how do you do that?”
I laughed. “Do what?” I knew exactly what he meant. Maybe I should have clued him in to my emotion reading. He already knew many other things, but for some reason I couldn’t. I wanted to keep this secret to myself.
“You always know how I feel.”
“It’s your expression.”
“But I’m smiling.”
I burst out laughing. “If you call grimacing with an untold emotional pain smiling.”
“I thought if I flashed these chompers, I wouldn’t give anything away.”
“Give what away?”
The prince chose that instant to stand and extend a hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
/> “Oh.” I glanced from the prince to Owein. “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to abandon him.
“Lady Niawen, I insist.” Prince Kelyn’s cheeks rounded up to his eyes, and I groaned.
“Very well. One dance.”
“We shall see about that.” He winked at Owein.
Before the prince tugged me away, I whispered to Owein. “That pretty lass, at the table to your right, has been ogling you all evening. Dance with her, please.”
Owein’s face brightened, and I relaxed as the prince pulled me through the parting dancers on the floor.
“I’m still embarrassed over our meeting. I don’t normally cry in front of others outside my family.” Kelyn forced a mock scowl.
I giggled. “Are you sensitive, Your Majesty?”
“Highly. Normally I run from the room and cry on my pillow.”
I snorted, pleased the prince joked about his former awkwardness. “You wouldn’t fit in where I’m from.”
“Oh? How so?” Kelyn whirled me past Owein, who, I was glad to see, had listened to my plea on behalf of the forlorn maiden.
“My people are proud to a fault,” I said.
“Pride never leads to peace.”
I quirked my eyebrows. “Is this speaking from experience, Your Majesty?”
Kelyn was gleaning from our conversation over dinner. I had described Gorlassar to him at length. I figured the lay of the land and the cities’ descriptions were safe. I neglected to explain anything about dragons, who roamed freely in Gorlassar.
“Some yes,” he said. “Some more of an observation. Why are you here? Why’d you leave Gorlassar if it’s such a perfect place?”
“I didn’t say Gorlassar was perfect.”
“You said your people claim to be pure and light-filled.”
I’d told him we heal with the light inside us. I had to. He wanted to know how I healed his mother. I didn’t give him specifics. “We are pure in the sense that we have no darkness. We carry faults.”
“As I can well see.”
I stopped, and a dancer slammed into me, forcing me into Kelyn’s arms. “Your Majesty!” He smelled of cinnamon and cypress, and I was almost lost in the intoxicating aroma. “You presume—”
Kelyn whisked me back into proper, steady steps after excusing the couple begging his pardon. “Doesn’t the blush of your delicate cheeks and the tension in the graceful curve of your neck betray your ill temper? When you’re heated or impassioned or worried, every sign is revealed in your posture, your step, your intonation. You hide behind sharp words.”
“I don’t—”
“When I met you, I was amazed by your flattering language or, rather, quick comeback to my stammering words. I didn’t hide my stumble or conceal the fact I was blubbering. But you, what were you hiding?”
“I… I…” I was mortified I witnessed such a tender exchange between him and his mother. I disliked being privy to soft emotion. I hated watching it; I hated feeling it. I hated how the emrys felt every single one of each other’s unguarded feelings. Everything was on display. Nothing was private. Not my feelings. Not Aneirin’s feelings. Not my mother’s feelings and certainly not my rigid father’s feelings. I had every pure emotion flung in my face since birth, and I was sick of it!
Kelyn scanned my face. “Ah. You have no words for it.”
My chest was heaving. I pushed back the dam of threatening emotion. “Everything is just different where I’m from.”
“We mortals are not what you expected?”
I caught my breath as I caught his blue eyes. “No, you’re more.”
Chapter Ten
Despite the late night, subjects rolled out of bed by high noon, and the palace bustled once again.
Sorfrona and I took a late breakfast on the veranda, accompanied by Tiwlip. The boys played on the lawn. Kelyn and Kenrik were teaching Brenin how to play some game where they hit a ball through obstacles for points. Kelyn guided Brenin’s tiny hand around the mallet and tapped a hard ball through a wire hoop. I had a sudden desire to learn this odd game as I watched Kelyn lean over the curly-topped lad. Kenrik twirled his mallet over his shoulder, relaxed, but keen on besting his older brother, even though Kelyn had the handicap of his four-year-old cousin.
“Just because I won the joust, doesn’t mean I’ll let you win at croquet.” Kenrik rubbed his angular jaw.
“I let you win the joust.” Kelyn whacked his ball. It rolled through the nearest two hoops. “Lady Adenydd wanted dinner with the champion. I was in no mood to comply. Besides, I know you like her.”
Kenrik caught my eye before answering Kelyn. His voice dropped, but I still heard his words, a benefit of emryn hearing—apparently more enhanced than the mortals’. “She’s easy on the eyes, but the heart can change.”
Kelyn snapped upright and followed Kenrik’s gaze. Observing my amusement, Kelyn bowed gallantly. “Will the lady join us?”
Sorfrona and Tiwlip ceased their quiet chatter about the banquet’s highlights. I arched my brows as I raised my voice to be heard across the lawn. “Perhaps another time, Your Highness.”
I turned back to my companions. Both ladies were a delight. Though Sorfrona was exhausted, she claimed she spent too many weeks abed and wanted to relish the autumn before she was shooed inside by gale-force winter winds.
“The highlands are a dream,” Sorfrona said. “I love this countryside. Living lakeside has its benefits and drawbacks though. Fair breezy at times.”
“The air is so woodsy.” Tiwlip sipped her tea. “I’m accustomed to sea breezes back home”—she clarified for my benefit—“in the lowlands. The evergreens fill the air with such vigor here.”
I crunched into a sweet roll, chewed hastily, and swallowed when I realized it was my turn to volunteer information about my homeland. “Gorlassar smells like dewy grass and honey and wild flowers.”
“Sounds splendid, my dear,” the queen said while buttering toast. “Will you return anytime soon? I enjoy your presence and would be sad to see you go.”
“I’m here for an extended visit.” I sipped my cider, hoping she wouldn’t press for the reason. I was waiting for an interlude to present Seren—an opening without saying, I have a, uh, big lizard, who breathes fire and could burn down a village if you get on her bad side. I’d like you to meet her.
I wouldn’t burn down a village. Haven’t we covered this before?
Just keeping humor alive.
A maid swept silently to the table, presented a folded note on a silver tray, and backed away after the queen plucked up the parchment.
“Oh, my dear. It’s for you.” Sorfrona held the note out. “Go ahead and read it. Mayhap it’s an eager gentleman, from last night, awaiting a swift reply.”
Sorfrona giggled with Tiwlip as I took the creamy parchment. I marveled that two mature ladies—mature in that they had children—did so much giggling. I conceded to the queen’s notion. After the dance with the prince, I passed through many hands. Sadly I never danced with Owein. He disappeared after his turn with the young woman.
I broke the plain waxy circle—no mark indicating any household.
Niawen,
You may be surprised to receive this because I cannot write. I hunted down a young scribe to pen these words. The festival is over. Arnall and I intend to leave with the caravan in the morning. I’ll be well on the road by the time you read this.
You were a dream. I enjoyed showing you the simple things of this world. The crown prince will show you all the extraordinary, because that is what you are.
I had the pleasure of being your first mortal contact. I will treasure the look on your face, revealed by the subtle moonlight. Oh, yes. I had a clear view of your face. One of wonder and excitement. Who would have guessed such a humdrum mortal could hold your fancy so? Nevertheless, the image is engraved in my mind.
If you’re ever in Tarren, call on me. Though I must say, I’m rarely home. Trapping drags me across the country all year. If we ever meet again, I
expect it will not be anytime soon.
Fondly,
Owein
I gasped, staring blankly at the words. Why would he do this? What possessed him to up and leave?
“Whatever’s wrong, Lady Niawen?” Sorfrona asked.
I stood, and my napkin slid from my lap to the grass. “He’s gone. Owein left with the caravan this morning. Why didn’t he say goodbye?”
I glanced over at Kelyn, the taller brother, looming over Brenin as Kenrik helped him line up his move. Seren, now’s your chance for an entrance. Please, intercept Owein. Bring him back here.
I can’t say I’m happy about Owein finally flying, but I’ll be glad to flee from hiding.
Thank you.
So many emotions rippled through me. Why should I have cared so much that Owein left? But I was bordering on outrage. Disappointment. I liked him. We were friends, and he just tossed me aside.
Humans were so callous.
I don’t think Owein meant to hurt you, Seren said.
It stings as if someone shoved me across gritty sod in a sparring match.
“Your Majesty!” With too many Majesties present, I clarified. “Prince Kelyn!” I turned to him and started across the lawn to their mini tournament, picking up my skirts as I went. Kelyn must have sensed my urgency because he dropped his mallet and headed my way. I stomped my initial displeasure over Owein’s ill-timed goodbye before Kelyn drew up, but impatience danced under my skin.
“Niawen, what can I do for you?” Kelyn’s gentle touch on my wrist electrified my urgency.
“Your Majesty—”
“Please, just Kelyn.”
I swallowed, and my head bobbed. “Kelyn, I haven’t been honest with you. I’m not the only one who came into this realm from Gorlassar. My home is also called the dragon realm and for good reason.”
Kenrik reached us, with Brenin carrying an armful of croquet balls, trailing beside him. “I remember the scrolls the scribes copied. Your ancestor—she wasn’t alone either, was she?” Kenrik studied my face with his deep-set eyes.
The moment of truth. My ears burned from his intensity. I gnawed my bottom lip as I returned his brown-eyed stare. Kenrik would welcome Seren. His face—his light—told me I didn’t have to fear. I exhaled a held breath. “The sorceress you speak of was Siana. She’s the only other emrys to leave Gorlassar. Her dragon was Nimue—a pinkish flesh-colored dragon. Is that who you remember from the scrolls?”
