“I don’t think I’d mind about anything right now,” I whisper, catching a gag as my head lolls to the other side.
Her quick hands, which I once thought to only be made for movements of the dangerous variety, shift to my forehead with a surprising gentleness. An ugly grimace dirties her face and she sighs heavily, reaching for a wet cloth by my side and placing it across my burning head.
“I thought you’d at least be a little cooler by now. I hoped the words of your mother would bring you around. You know, like some sort of bizarre kinship thing. I’ve heard of animals that recognize their mother by her call alone. So I thought, hey, it couldn’t hurt to try, right?” she says with a tight smile that ends up looking even worse than her grimace. “Besides, you kept calling his name. I thought the least I could do was give you the opportunity to shut up.”
My brow furrows, causing the cloth to slip, partially covering my tired eyes. “Prince Ian?” I ask, thoroughly upset with myself for showing my slightly unbalanced side so early.
Poor soul. Here we’ve only just met, and I’ve already started with the embarrassing cries for help and pity through the night. Oh, how glad he must feel to be temporarily getting rid of me.
“No,” she says with a tight shake of her head. “Not him.”
Her eyes dart down to my wrist as she feigns sudden interest in my pounding pulse. Perhaps the really sad part in all this is that she doesn’t even have to say his name for me to understand whom she’s talking about. My eyes meander back out to Ian as he scoops a mixture from the pot into a smaller bowl perched carefully on the rocks around the fire. His gentle movements give away none of the hurt that probably rooted its way into his soul while I cried out for a man he doesn’t know. I want to feel sadness for him, I really do, but it’s hard to conjure up years of guilt when I only just knew of his existence less than a day ago. Not to mention that there’s a major part of me that is wondering why he’s still here—why he’s even helping me. It’s clear that his people think I belong in Theron, yet here we rest as I wait for another handsome prince to rescue me from underneath his wings.
Oh, Aras.
It is just like him to find his way into haunting my dead heart. The callous weasel.
Finally, I clear my throat, looking away from Ian as I fight the blush that begs to sneak up on my already too-heated cheeks. At this point, I’m not sure if I feel more embarrassed for him or me. Either way, I feel like quite the loser in both situations.
“I take it the prince was in here for a while, then?”
“All night,” she says, finally looking up to meet me in the eye. “It’s almost dawn, Brave. You’ve been out for a good bit.”
Her words send a choking cough through my body, and I struggle to sit up as the cloth slides from my face. “That long! Then surely you must have heard from Papa?”
“Not as of yet.” She frowns, rising once more. “But you have to remember that Emory will keep a wide distance from the Orien border. Though it’s unlikely he’ll run into Knox or his men on his journey, his current form puts him in an interesting predicament. If he were to get caught by the wrong person, his ability to control his actions or think for himself would be over the moment he awoke before Knox. Even if he’s already made it there by now, he’ll have to wait until Aras comes to the border himself. Of course, I told Aras to wait for us there, but I think you and I both know that our friend’s ability to listen ranks right up there with that of a crazed squirrel.”
As always, her honest words cause a slow smile to snake across my lips, and for once, I forget about the tingling loss that has been building within my bones since I’ve been without him. For somewhere along the way, Aras became more than an annoying Orien guard. He became someone important. Someone worth fighting my way back for.
“Perhaps he’ll listen, just this once,” I say as she reaches down and presses the cloth back to my sweaty face.
“For you,” she allows, wagging her brows in a dramatic fashion. “Although, to be honest, Mr. Nursemaid out there might be who you should set your sights on.” She lets out a low whistle, and I hope to the good stars above that Ian doesn’t hear her words. “He sure knows how to take care of a woman, I can give him that. Honestly, I was beginning to think I should have killed you back at that river and pretended to be you myself.”
As if on cue, a new light enters the cave, and Ian stoops before the entrance. He holds the same bowl in one hand and a torch in the other. When he sees me awake, a hesitant smile stretches across what I know to be his weary face.
“I thought I heard your voice,” he says, pushing his way through the opening and coming to a rest on his knees by my side. His eagerness almost makes me forget that this is our first encounter since I learned he was a prince from a faraway land who just so happened to be my betrothed.
He places the pot carefully on the floor beside me, and I eye the bubbling substance with unease. For as hungry as I should be, my stomach certainly doesn’t seem to like the idea of eating.
“I know you probably don’t feel like it,” he says with an honest look of pity, “but you have to believe me when I say it’s what your body needs in order to fully recover. Using your power burns a lot of energy, and right now, the best thing you can do is try to replace some of what you’ve lost.”
Passing the torch off to Lo, he takes the spoon from the pot and holds what seems to be a thick stew up to my mouth. Lo’s subtle snort fills the air, and my eyes flash to hers as the prince of Theron begins to feed me like a baby bird. I’m just pondering the idea of spitting up my food on her boots when without another sound, she leaves our cramped space. For some reason, making it seem even smaller in her absence.
The single lantern left lit in the room leaves little light, but it’s more than enough for me to catch the uncomfortable concern that flutters like doves’ wings across Ian’s bright eyes. He puts another spoonful to my mouth, and hot liquid slowly pours down my throat with surprising ease for a girl whose world refuses to stop spinning.
“What is it?” I ask, if anything just to break the full gaze poised in my direction.
Ian’s lids blink with a rapid pulse, and he lowers his eyes back down to the bowl. “Just some soup,” he says with a sad smile. “It’s my favorite back home, so I had already brought along the ingredients to share it with you on our journey back. Of course, this isn’t exactly the journey I was anticipating, but with you, I do believe that any journey would do.”
His hand rises with the spoon again, but this time, my hand reaches out, curving along his fingers and stilling him in place. His gaze flicks up to meet my own, and just like that, he’s bared the heart of the matter. The reason we’re here, but not quite.
“Why are you helping me?” I rush to get out as he drops the spoon back down into the bowl and his fingers curl softly around my own. “It’s clear I need rest, and I’m thankful that you are providing for me, but what about Theron? The last I checked, your people were willing to hogtie me to a board and drag me through the woods to get me to you. According to them, there is no other option.”
He winces at my words, dropping my gaze and settling on our hands as they rest together on the floor. “My people are desperate for your help, yes, but not so much that they should have acted as they did.”
I let out an angry grunt, quickly regretting it as the remnants of stew stir uneasily in my stomach.
Desperate. Yes, that’s one word for it. Also deranged. That one would work, too.
“They hurt you, Penelope, and that’s something I never intend to do. While Reeve thought that he was doing a good deed for his people, he neglected to see the whole picture. He neglected to see you. Perhaps if he would have been more open with his intentions, you and I could have worked this out of our own accord, and you would have never gotten hurt running from me.”
“Me,” he whispers to himself, shaking the honeyed strands on his head. “So you see, I seem to owe you a great deal, Penelope, and I intend to make things r
ight, and then some.”
“Ian,” I plead, attempting to rise to my knees before him. “You don’t owe me anything. Truly. If you’re afraid I’ll leave and harm your people in return, then rest assured. I will do everything in my power to help where I can. If that means returning to your land in the future, then that’s what I’ll do. I just have to understand my place in this world first. That’s all I ask.”
He lets out a low sigh before gently grabbing hold of my shoulders and lowering my body back down to the ground. Taking the wet cloth from the floor, he drapes it across my forehead, his face lingering above my own as the light bounces off the green eyes that mirror mine.
“Rest, and when you wake, I think I have just the place that will lift your spirits while we wait for your papa to return.”
Once again, his voice wavers slightly at the mention of Papa’s return, and my gut churns at the thought of Ian and Aras coming to face to face. Perhaps it won’t be as bad as I think, or perhaps I’ll end up killing them both. Strangely, it’s times like these that I wish Darcy were here to whisper backward words of encouragement in my ear.
With a tentative smile that I’ve come to recognize as his natural state, Ian rises carefully within the low cave and makes his way back toward the open sky. Just before his warming presence leaves me for good, I stop him with the one question that he ironically never chose to answer.
“But why do you help me, Ian? You could just as easily try to convince me why I’m wrong, but you don’t. In fact, you haven’t argued a word. Tell me why.”
His normally easy stance stiffens at my words, and once again, I’m worried I’ve pushed him too far. That I’ve finally angered the unnaturally agreeable prince who bends to my will even when it is not fair to his own. But then his shoulders relax, and his clenched fist reaches out to rest along the opening in the wall.
“Because I, too, had a sister once. She died in an accident when we were young, and I’ve always regretted not taking the time for her when I should have. If I could rewrite my life and see her again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” He turns back, taking in my stunned expression for the first time. “I won’t keep you from your sister, Penelope, because in the past, I wish I wouldn’t have let others keep me from mine.”
And then he disappears into the open air as my heart thunders away on a new race that I didn’t even know I needed to run.
Forty-Five
For all of Darcy’s warnings about men, she never once mentioned how it was possible to care for a boy with a scary amount of your being, yet want to strangle him all at the same time. It’s a shame, really, this like/despise relationship. I don’t know whether I want to hug Aras for keeping my sister safe or smack him for not telling me I even had one. Considering I’m not very good at hugging or smacking, there’s only one thing that’s left for me to do.
Stew. Yes, I think that’s the best choice.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Lo grins as she pops her head into the dimly lit cave. Although I know good and well it’s way past morning, I decide to let her subtle jibe slide with a simple roll of my eyes.
Leave it to her to mess up my perfectly good stewing.
“Since you seem intent on staying curled up in this hole forever, I thought I should drop in and let you know that I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“What?” I practically shriek, jumping up only to bang my head on the low ceiling above.
Worried that I’ve caused even more damage to my wounded state, my hands fly to my head and my eyes flash to Lo, happily surprised when my vision only shows one of her instead of two. A few hours ago, that movement alone would have killed me, much less the bump to the head.
“You see?” she asks. “You’re getting better. There’s no reason for you to be wasting away in this dark abyss that mirrors your mood.”
As usual, her eloquent delivery of backhanded remarks leave me floundering like the fish out of water that I’ve come to be, and all thoughts of surprise sisters float away with her puff of hot air. “So were you just saying something to get a rise out of me, or are you really leaving?”
“Oh, I’m leaving alright.” She shrugs. “It just so happens that you get a rise out of everything.”
“I do not!” I scoff with a wince, realizing I’ve just proved her point. “Besides, you can’t leave me alone with him. What if he changes his mind once you’re gone? What if I have to do something crazy, like set the woods on fire to help me escape? Oh, wait. I’ve already done that.”
Lo lets out a sharp laugh that pierces my ears in the tight cave. “You silly girl. He’s not going to change his mind, and besides, most women would be thanking me for the opportunity to share a little alone time with the prince of Theron.” She pauses as her eyes roam over me with combing observation. “Of course, you are an odd little creature.”
“Oh, hush it!” I say, bounding across the small space and surprising her with a tight hug. “You’re a nasty little thing, but I sure am glad we met. You remind me of what my aunt Darcy was probably like when she was young. You’re strong, and even though I may not like it, you’re a reminder of why I need to be, too.”
“Now you’re just being cruel,” she says, pulling back with a smile. “I’ve heard stories about your aunt Darcy when I was young, and I’m quite positive I have nothing on her.”
I laugh, knowing that while she may think she’s right, she certainly isn’t. One day, after all this mess is over, and I can return home to Ashen, I hope that the two of them can meet. Though I honestly don’t know if I could handle them both in the same room.
“Where will you go?” I ask, realizing this actually may be the last time I see her.
“Back to my mother,” she says, pulling my arm and dragging me out into the light for what seems like the first time in days. She holds on to my wrist for several seconds, gauging my ability to stand upright, before dropping my hand and standing by my side. “I have a feeling that Aras won’t be too happy when he arrives to find you with the Theron prince, and to be honest, I become quite bashful when forced to endure awkward first meetings and what’s sure to be the beatings of chests. It’s an embarrassing little fault of mine. Detestable really, and it’s also my very best-kept secret, so you better not tell.”
Bashful. Lo wouldn’t be bashful if a thousand men caught her swinging naked from the trees.
Determined to make her point, she wags her finger in the air as if this is an actual secret that I should swear against my life not to tell. I simply choose to look away, not the least bit convinced that Aras will have a problem with Ian. After all, it’s not as if he tied me to a board and dragged me through the woods. Aras will be grateful, if anything. At least, he should be.
“Besides,” she continues, picking at the hem of her shirt, “this little reunion could spell trouble for me.”
“What do you mean, trouble?” I ask, finally shooting her a look. “Aras has nothing to be upset about. Last I recall, you were the one who rescued me from those backward fools.”
“Perhaps Aras doesn’t see it that way,” she says as a subtle wave of emotion rises over her stoic features. “And though you speak the truth, I highly doubt that’s the way Knox will see it if he ever finds out. He doesn’t care very much for anyone who takes an interest in his daughter, if you know what I mean, and I aim to be long gone before I can be associated with any of this mess.”
My lips press together in a tight scowl, and I start to tell her that I have no idea what she means, when we’re interrupted by the low clearing of a throat from behind.
“It’s nice to see you up,” Ian says as his gaze lingers softly over my rumpled form. When he catches me watching, his eyes dart away, and a slow blotch of heat blooms across his perfect cheeks.
He walks around the small fire pit and places a pot of water on the other side, setting to fill our empty pouches to the brim. His boots leave soaking prints in the dirt, and though the rich, blue sleeves of his tunic are pulled to his elbows, they shine as if they�
��ve been dipped in the waters anyway.
“I thought I heard water when we first came in,” I say, “though I can’t honestly recall what was real and what wasn’t.”
His lips turn up in a genuine smile, and his eyes crinkle endearingly at the corners. “It was supposed to be your surprise. I didn’t think you’d be up yet when I got back.”
My eyes light up at the kind gesture, unsure of why I deserve this thoughtful man before me. I’m beginning to understand that this isn’t just some random spot in the woods where we stopped to camp. No, he picked this place because he knew what I needed. The coolness of the cave and a river to wash away all of my tarnished adventures. He did this for me, yet here I stand, pushing him in the other direction.
“You see,” Lo whispers quietly in my ear, breaking me from my trance. “I’m not the only one who’s tired of you smelling like a horse’s backside.”
And just like that, she ruins the sentiment. “I’d like to say that I’ll miss you, Lo, but—”
“I know, Brave,” she cuts in, “but you don’t want to break down into a sobbing mess of tears. It’s why I make all of my goodbyes short and sweet. I can’t stand the way people need me.”
Her smile flashes with a wicked spark, and she reaches down to shoulder her pack. “It’s been terrible, Prince, and I hope that our future paths never cross. Brave, you’ve been slightly less annoying than I originally thought you’d be, so good for you. When you’re ready, perhaps we’ll meet again.”
And then, she leaves. A flurry of jagged, black hair and untamed grit marching toward her secret destination with enough force to make the forest quake. Not even breaking stride, she looks back over her shoulder and offers a brazen wink.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” she says before melting into the trees.
I don’t have to ask what I’m welcome for. The swallowing silence between the prince and me is answer enough.
“She truly is the scariest woman I’ve ever met,” Ian says after a moment’s breath.
Look to the Stars (The Orien Trilogy Book 1) Page 33
