by Wren Handman
“A pleasure, m’lady,” she said with a strained smile, and the princess returned it with a gentle gesture that would have put angels to tears. It was the barest hint of a bob, done so smoothly it seemed some force had pressed her head lightly and then released her.
“Any friend of Darren’s is a friend of mine,” Princess Nicola said warmly. Her tones were even and carefully pronounced, each word seemingly caressed against her lips. She probably took diction classes, Taya thought glumly.
“We were just on our way for a walk through the woods. David, we were hoping you could accompany us,” Darren said, turning to look at David.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” David murmured politely, and handed his cards to his neighbor.
Darren gave her a smile and a jaunty wave, and then the pair departed, David and the uninvited Ryan trailing behind them. They left Taya alone by the fire, pain burning fierce in her heart.
She dropped her cards and muttered an unintelligible excuse before making her escape from the circle. She needed privacy, but there was little of it to be had. The yard was crowded, and she knew the company captains were holed up in the cottage, presumably along with its occupants. She hadn’t even met them yet, these people who she was being abandoned with.
The stable caught her eye, and immediately she made her way toward it. Chances were there would be no one about, since all the companies had been on foot, and she could close herself inside. The building was small, and when she got inside she saw that there were only two horses and one cow. One of the horses seemed to be of excellent pedigree—it was well groomed and its coat nearly glistened in the dim light, whereas the other was a cob who had seen better days. She sat down on the ground near the doorway, leaning back against a pile of blankets, and closed her eyes.
Darren’s slight burned. He had not come over to introduce her to his new lady. In all likelihood, he had forgotten her entirely until he went to get David and saw her sitting beside him. His thoughts were not on her. They never had been. He had always been a distance away from her, out of reach. She had wanted so badly for him to be hers. She loved when he looked at her, when all that was reflected in his eyes was her. But that was not him, not really. He was never with one person for very long—the sea was his only mistress, and it called to him. She loved a possibility of him that he had never lived up to: the chance to have him to herself, that hidden gem in the future when he gave up the sea. Sometimes she admitted to herself that that day would never come, that she loved an idea, not a reality. She would vow again and again to set it all aside, but the warmth in his eyes always convinced her she was wrong. Now he had chosen another, claimed to have given up his constant mistress. She couldn’t help but wonder if Nicola was as wrong as Taya had been, if Darren could ever be true to anyone but Ashua.
And Oblivion take the woman, anyway! She thought she was so beautiful, dressed up so. Well, Taya didn’t need berry juices and kohl from Sanitos to feel sure of herself. She didn’t need pretty dresses and flesh binding corsets to be defined. She was a person with or without a man to prop her up, and she doubted the princess could say the same. And then she instantly felt guilty, because jealousy was such an ugly thing, and Nicola had seemed like a lovely woman, which of course only made it worse.
She sat up and smashed her hand angrily into the blanket behind her, which was digging painfully into the small of her back. Turning, she saw that the blanket had been thrown over a saddlebag, and it was the edge of this that was poking into her back. She took the edge between her fingertips, appraising it. The edging was black with real gold thread woven through in braids. It cost more than Taya’s entire wardrobe, and she would know; she had once made a gown with gold weaving, and she had been aghast at the cost of the thread. But that was for a wedding gown! How rich would a person have to be not to think a golden saddlebag was a waste of coin?
There was a knock at the door, startling her from her thoughts. The door edged open and Jeremy hesitantly poked his head through, glancing around.
“Taya?” he asked, not seeing her.
“Yes, I’m right here,” she called, standing up and brushing straw off the back of her dress. For some reason the sight of him filled her with guilt, and she couldn’t have said why for her life.
“Is everything fine?” he asked, a faint frown on his face, and she smiled.
“Yes, of course. I just wanted a little privacy, is all.”
“I thought you may want to meet the safe house’s guardians? It was terrible of me not to introduce you from the first, I am sorry about that. I meant to call you in as soon as we said hello, but Princess Nicola was an unexpected development, and she brought news that caused us a need to revise our tactics, and we all got carried away, and now…here we are.”
“I hope the news wasn’t dire?” Taya asked, walking over to join him by the door.
“She discovered an ambush planned in the northern pass through the mountains. Somehow they received false intelligence that we were sending our forces there, when really we planned to keep the companies divided and have each use a different pass. With our small numbers we hoped to evade patrols rather than fight them. But now that we know they’ll have their forces concentrated on the northern pass, we can take the southern with our full force, and smash any small guards they’ve set to watch. So in the end, I suppose she brought very good news. But still, it needed to be seen to.”
“Of course. I don’t blame you for leaving me,” she assured him.
“Still…for Darren to take David and Ryan and leave you alone!” He tsked.
She noticed he only seemed to call him Darren when he was angry. The rest of the time, it was the king, King Darren, the king.
“I’m not a child, Jeremy. I don’t need to be seen to.”
“I wasn’t implying—I only meant—”
She put a hand on his shoulder, forestalling the apology. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but you don’t have to worry. If you think this is bad, you should try sitting through Holy Day Mass with Child Shinda. Now that was an ordeal,” she said, and he gave her an admiring look.
“How is it that you always manage to look at things in such a rosy light?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“I don’t,” she confided with a wink. “I’m just a really good liar.”
They left the stable together, arm-in-arm, chatting amicably about small nothings.
The owners of the safe house turned out to be elderly revolutionaries, kind and understanding about having her under their roof. Though they had the dark skin of Marabour, they explained that they were Sephrian-born. Now in their late sixties, and having been forced out of their home years before, though they were too old to lend their bodies to the cause they were proud to do their small part. They had a daughter, a little older than Taya, who was visibly less thrilled than her parents by the onslaught of armored guests, but who gave Taya a very—perhaps overly—friendly greeting. It could have been an accident, but during the hug her hand did seem to linger on Taya’s backside.
The cottage was, as it appeared from outside, a simple two room building. The kitchen table had been taken over by the leading men, including David, and they were grouped around it. The strategy discussions appeared to be over, and instead they were chatting about swordplay. Next to the table was the fireplace and a small cabinet for dishes and foodstuffs, and through the next room a bed was visible. There was a small loft accessible from a ladder above the kitchen, barely large enough for a person to sit up straight. That was where their daughter, Leanne, slept, and Taya would be bunking down with her for the duration of her stay.
No one spoke in terms of weeks and days, and the possibility of months left behind stretched out as an endless emptiness in Taya’s mind. She was not a country girl, had never spent more than a week at a time away from the bustle of the city. She would be bored, she was sure, within five minutes of everyone else’s departure. And more than that, she realized that she would miss her traveling companions. She had come
to think of herself as a part of the group. She had always been the outsider at home, the strange one who was kind but didn’t quite fit. Only when she was with the sailors in their bars, drinking and playing and laughing and loving, had she felt like she was coming close to her real self. But that world never seemed real—it had existed only in the dark hours, when good men and women were fast asleep and only Yariel looked down from his scattered position in the sky. Now she was part of this world all of the time, and it had become her everything.
They were still waiting for the fourth company to arrive, so everyone settled down for the day, getting as much rest and sleep as they could. Westley and his wife Danielle gave their bed to Darren, and Leanne gave hers to Nicola. Taya wanted to spend some time with Darren, knowing their time together was drawing to an end, but he was tucked into bed with threats to rest by Nicola, who hovered by his side, holding his hand. Taya couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the pretty picture.
She wandered the camp for a little while, but everyone was sleeping. Since she wasn’t planning on leaving with them she had no need to keep to the strange nocturnal schedule, and anyway anxiety was filling her muscles and making her twitchy and restless. She poked around the house, casting lonesome glances at Darren and Nicola and generally getting in everyone’s way, and finally Westley suggested Leanne take her out berry picking. Leanne quickly agreed, and it would have been awkward to say no so Taya reluctantly followed.
They walked for a few minutes in silence. Taya knew the beautiful wilderness should be calming, but it had never had that effect on her. And after marching through it so for many days, she was starting to hate the smell of leaves and sap. At least she had a pair of shoes now. Danielle had lent her some slippers, with thick leather soles to protect against roots and stones.
“So I know why your parents are here,” Taya finally said, breaking the silence. “But what brings you into the woods with them?”
“Cursed luck,” she answered bitterly, “and bad taste.”
“A man?” Taya guessed.
“A woman,” she answered. “Her name is Elise. She’s the heir to House Manius, do you know it? Historically they’ve been quite close to the crown, but her parents have fallen out of favor at court. Most of the historical allegiances are on their heads—favored houses cast out, those on the bottom rungs slowly climbing…She left three months ago to spy in the palace, and made me promise to come here and stay with my parents until the revolution was over. We were living in a little boarding house in Synai. I don’t know how it is in Miranov, but here we can’t hold land, since we can’t have children.”
“It’s the same in Miranov,” Taya agreed. “That’s why Darren and I pretended to be engaged. Only married folk can own land.”
“You were engaged to the king?” she asked in surprise. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?” Taya demanded.
“Can women marry?” she asked, without answering.
“It’s frowned on, but I’ve heard it happens. Generally it’s just…oh, I don’t know. It’s seen as the foolishness of the young. My friend Annelle and I were together, but it would never have occurred to her…If I’m being honest, it would never have occurred to either of us that it might last past the day we met men to marry. And if you do fall in love, if it becomes more than just fun…Most people just get married for the land and children, and keep on loving as they will on the side.”
Leanne made a face. “I wouldn’t like to do that. Get married to a friend or something.”
“That’s how it was with Darren and I…how it was supposed to be, anyhow. Now, I’m very glad we didn’t go through with it.”
“I’ll never marry. In Sephria, the children of Ashua say marriage is for making children, and since we can’t have children, why get married?”
“Ashua’s children should know more about love,” Taya said with a sigh, and Leanne smiled wistfully.
“At least I do. That’s something.”
They found a spot where berries grew, thick and red under spiky leaves. Leanne showed Taya how to get at them without scratching herself, and Taya regaled her with stories of terrible clients in the city. Leanne compared everything to life in Sephria, highlighting the similarities and differences between the two sister-states with excellent comedic timing. It was the first time Taya had felt relaxed since Darren had battered down her door, maybe even longer. Maybe since her feelings for him had twisted into something real, and started poisoning the simple life she’d built for herself. She tried to cling to that feeling, to this simplicity, but the looming separation eventually cast a cloud over it, and she stopped herself halfway through some bitter tale about an upjump noble who refused to work with her until he met her husband and children.
“Forget that,” she said, “I forgot how it ends.”
“Let’s take a break,” Leanne suggested.
She had brought along some water in a skin, and they shared it between them, the clear taste heaven after the sweaty morning. Taya sat down between two trees, marveling at how strong her legs had gotten. She didn’t even feel the strain of two hours of crouching by the bushes, and when she massaged her calves the muscles felt corded and strong.
Leanne took a seat beside her. Her careful braid was coming loose, and there were little curls escaping all around her face, framing her dark brown skin. Her full lips were pursed, and Taya realized Leanne was studying her, even as she did the same. Their eyes met and Taya blushed, looking quickly away. Her pulse was loud; she could feel it jumping in her leg. She shook her head at her foolishness and rubbed the offending limb, but when she looked back up Leanne was still watching her.
She leaned in toward Taya. Their eyes stayed locked, Taya pretending she wasn’t sure what was happening as an excuse for the way she stayed frozen, not saying a word, not telling her no. Leanne finished the lean, her eyes slowly closing as their lips met. It was sweet and careful, but there was a hunger in it that Taya felt echoed in herself. All these weeks of hard travel, all the fear, and her body craved a reminder that it was alive, that she was beautiful, that she was good, that she had as much power as that cursed Nico—
She pulled away, shaking. “It isn’t me you want to kiss,” Taya said, but she wondered if she was talking to herself more than Leanne.
“I know,” Leanne said simply. “But neither of us can be with the one we want. We can at least remind ourselves we’re still alive.”
It was exactly what Taya had just thought to herself, exactly what she needed. She searched her brain for a reason she should say no, but none came to her.
“Elise won’t mind?” she asked, and even as she spoke she was threading her fingers into Leanne’s thick black braids, feeling the rough woolen texture on her callused fingertips.
“Elise and I know we love each other. We don’t mind if there are detours along the way,” Leanne confirmed.
She leaned forward and kissed Taya, gentle and sweet. It reminded Taya of summer nights when she was just barely a woman, of stealing moments from her chores to run into the kitchen and shock the girls by kissing every single one before she ran away. It had been so long since anyone had wanted her with the hunger that Leanne did, and she felt her body responding to the simplicity of it. Let someone touch her, let someone love her, let her be reminded of the power of her skin, the way her hands could make someone gasp and laugh and scream, Ashua, yes!
“Ashua,” she breathed, and they fell to the ground as one.
Chapter Twelve
WHEN TAYA AND LEANNE RETURNED to the safe house sometime later, they were surprised to see the bustle of men making food and setting out bedrolls. The final company had arrived. It was still at least six hours till dark, so everyone was hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before they set out on the next leg of their journey, and as they worked toward that goal they exchanged stories, as they had when Taya’s company arrived. This last one had suffered the least. Apparently slow and steady won the race, for they had scaled Novosk’
s walls and slipped into the dark like shadows, and run into not a soul the whole way.
Leanne and Taya brought the berries in for Danielle to wash and set out, and she remarked, with a twinkle in her eye, on how few they had gathered, despite taking such a very long time. The women grinned and professed their innocence, and set about to helping make dinner. Taya wished her friends weren’t sleeping—she felt like they were wasting their last chances to be together—but even Darren had fallen into dreams, and there was no one to talk to but her hosts. They were kind, and she and Leanne chatted, but they had little in common and their conversation was studded with awkward silences.
When Taya almost fell asleep in her potato cuttings for the third time, Leanne suggested that she go and take a nap. She agreed that was an excellent plan—Oblivion take her decision to get on a normal schedule. She had, probably, months to readjust to normal life, and since it seemed like she would fall asleep whether it was on a bed or on her face, she decided discretion was the better part of valor. She clambered into the loft and was asleep in seconds.
She dreamed of fire, and of being swallowed by the weight of the sea. It pressed down against her chest, and the more she struggled the less breath she could take. She awoke sometime later, doused in sweat and wrapped up in a sheet, with someone calling her name. For a moment she sat frozen, her heart pounding, trying to remember where she was. Her bed was gone, her room…She took a deep breath as it came rushing back, and tiredly wiped her eyes.
“Taya?” Leanne called again.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to wake you up, but they’re getting ready to go.”
