by Frost Kay
His full mouth twitched and a small smile graced his face. “Your rooms? I was under the impression that you were staying in my home.”
Arrogant. Like father, like son.
A tart reply was poised on the tip of her tongue when he spun to face her, resting a hip on the sturdy railing. His blue eyes were hauntingly familiar; another trait his sons had inherited. He wiggled his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling.
He was teasing her.
The king of Aermia was teasing her.
Well that threw her off balance. Her world tipped on its axis. Was this really happening? What was going on?
“Touché, my king,” she conceded, dipping her chin once. Her legs quivered, but Sage locked them and stood tall. His gaze ran along the contours of her face. She tensed when his eyes scanned her body, right down to her bare feet peeking out from under her nightgown. Sage shoved aside her anxiety and met his bright blue eyes. They crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her, his two dimples popping.
He was beautiful, and that was downright offensive.
The king gestured to her feet. “My Ivy always hated wearing shoes too. She hated the confined dress code. She changed once we married, and it was a damn miracle she wore anything proper to court. She often left her hair unbound, with bits of shell and sea glass woven through it.”
Her heart squeezed at the longing she heard in his voice. “She was a lovely woman, the whole kingdom misses her, sire.”
The smile on the king’s face faded and grief took its place. She fluttered her hands at her side, lost for words.
Weariness weighed on her, and her legs shook with the effort to stay standing. She braced a hand on her chair, gesturing to the empty one next to her. “Would you like to sit down, Your Majesty?”
“Thank you.”
Sage waited for him to seat himself and then sank into her own chair, relieved to be off her feet. He didn’t speak, merely gazing out at the sea. Awkward minutes passed, and Sage tried not to shift uncomfortably in her seat. She spied on him from the corner of her eye, scrutinizing his profile. From her reports, he was a renowned hermit, so why the visit? Information? More torture? Would he harm her?
Dread trickled down her spine. She was alone with a massive man.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
She should have strapped on her stolen knife. The bed was too far. Pressure on her balled hand startled her from her frantic thoughts. Her emerald eyes widened as the king’s large hand squeezed hers.
“Calm down, darling. I’ll not hurt you.”
He already had.
The king patted her hand twice before relinquishing it. She watched him rest beside her, his hands laced together over his stomach.
The entire situation was surreal. Here she was attempting to dethrone him, and he sat there like they were bosom buddies.
“With your permission I would like to be blunt, Your Majesty.”
He cocked his head, gray-blond curls tumbling across his forehead. “Be my guest.”
“I don’t understand what prompted your visit. It’s confusing. I am humbled by your presence, but I feel it might be improper for you to be spending your time with a girl from the streets.”
Maybe he would take her hint and leave.
“You do realize my wife was a fisherman’s daughter?” the king drawled.
“Yes.”
“Your station matters not a whit to me. Hard work from both the common and noble classes is what makes Aermia a successful kingdom.”
She wasn’t expecting that. He would not leave that easily. Time to try another tactic. “I am a thief,” Sage challenged.
“That’s what I have been told, but I don’t believe a word of it.”
He smirked at her, and Serge’s smirk flashed through her mind. Shivering, she pulled her shawl tighter around her as if it could protect her from the horrible memories.
The king’s face pinched as he caught her expression. He faced the ocean and threw his boots onto the balcony edge. Once his gaze moved from her person, the air trapped tightly in her lungs released in a soft hiss.
Sage endeavored to remember what he had said. He didn’t believe her. “What do you know about me?”
He tipped his head back, letting out a bark of laughter, the sound of it scattering the gulls in the wind.
“I know the story you told my men and sons: your name is Ruby, your family abandoned you, two of your brothers are pirates, and that you have been living on the streets for some time. You steal to survive, but that’s not who you are.”
“Who am I?” Sage raised both eyebrows in a mute prompt.
“You are courageous, strong, and kind.”
“What?” Suspicion slithered through her. He was up to something.
“You had the opportunity to kill my son and some of the Elite, but you did not. That suggests you’re not one to revel in violence,” he paused and breathed deeply. “Even when you were… I won’t say ‘interrogated’ because that was not an interrogation. It was a violation…”
He knew? He was the king, of course he knew.
“You never stopped fighting,” he continued, steel lacing his tone. “They did not break you, no matter what you may be feeling now.”
Her eyes dampened. His sons sanctioned it. The king didn’t know.
“Everyone to cross your path has been treated by you with kindness and appreciation. You have not taken advantage of anyone.” His faded sapphire eyes flashed to her green ones. “You have a good heart.”
He was sincere.
Sage blinked.
The king meant what he said.
Her emotions bounced everywhere. Pain, fear, helplessness, gratitude, shock, and embarrassment flooded her. Her family appreciated her, but no one had ever said something of that magnitude to her. Sage struggled with what she had been told and what she was currently experiencing. “How do you know all of this?”
“I may not be visible but that does not mean I am not around.” A sheepish smile crossed his face. “Also, Jeffry and Jacob have always been close friends.”
“Jeffry and Jacob?” Sage parroted back. “The Keeper and the Healer?”
His eyes gleamed. “The same. They’re twins.”
“Really?” In her mind, twins were supposed to look alike. They had a wicked sense of humor in common, but that was pretty much where it ended. “Jacob never said anything.”
“Not all of us share everything. I would think that’d be something you’d understand.” His solemn eyes rested on her.
“I don’t understand what you mean, sire,” she fibbed, scrunching her face up in confusion.
He regarded her evenly. “You are an excellent liar.”
She kept her body loose and gave him an offended look even as her heart sped up.
The king held up a hand. “In different circumstances, I believe you would be an honest person. From your character, I would stake my life on you protecting someone.”
“I think you are seeing things that aren’t there, my king. My name is Ruby,” she said firmly, turning to admire the setting sun and the kaleidoscope of colors it cast on the evening sky.
“Sure it is, darling,” the king retorted.
“I am not your ‘darling’,” she muttered in a low tone.
The bellowing laughter that burst out of the hulking king suited him. The sound comforted her just as much as it frightened her.
“You are feisty, and I like it. I have enjoyed our time together. I’ll be visiting again soon.” He nimbly shot out of his chair, hovering next to her. Sage scrambled out of her seat putting a little more distance between them.
“May I?”
She followed his eyes to her hand, where it was fisted in her shawl.
He had asked.
The king of Aermia was asking, not taking. She grudgingly let him lift her shaking hand. He pressed his lips to the back. “Until tomorrow, then.”
He spun on his heel, disappearing through the double doors. Sage flopped into her chair an
d stared, sightless, at the weathered stone beneath her feet. Her head spun. He was nothing like she pictured. She had been told he was a selfish old man, but the man with whom she talked did not seem to be so in any way. Nothing was as it should be these days.
Nothing could have prepared her for this.
Nothing was black and white anymore.
Twenty-Four
SAGE
Mira rushed onto the balcony, her skirts rustling with every step, bewilderment evident in her features. Sage was pretty sure her own face mirrored the young healer’s.
“Was that truly the king?” Sage had to ask. The answer was obvious, but it seemed so farfetched to think he willingly spent part of his afternoon sitting with her. Mira’s head bobbed so emphatically that her blond hair bounced around her face.
Sage blew out a breath, lifting the few stray hairs tickling her face. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She waved a hand to Mira, as if that could explain everything, and placed her chin in her palm, waiting for Mira to say something.
Mira opened and closed her mouth like a fish. Finally, she settled on, “Are you all right?”
Mira’s concern for her warmed Sage’s heart. She smiled, grateful to have the healer supporting her. Mira must have had a million questions, yet her first question was on her wellbeing. “I am fine. Confused, but fine. What did I do to warrant his company? Does he visit everyone who enters the infirmary?”
“No,” Mira shook her blond head. “I haven’t seen him in over a year and I don’t understand why he would come to you. He doesn’t even show up to welcome important visitors.”
Sage arched a brow, and Mira’s cheeks pinked at her careless words.
“Not to say you aren’t important,” Mira rushed out.
Sage attempted to tuck her grin away, but the dismay on Mira’s face made her lose it. She sniggered.
Mira chuckled, slapping her on the arm. “You vain thing. I wasn’t trying to be mean.” Mira took on a curious look. “Indulge me though. What did the king want?”
“I don’t know. We talked little, mostly just staring out at the ocean and listening to its waves. Maybe he just wanted company?” Sage shrugged. “He said he was coming back tomorrow.”
“WHAT?” Mira screeched.
Sage pulled on her ears playfully. “Ladies are capable of such sounds?”
Mira didn’t smile.
Her smile dropped. “What? What’s wrong?”
Mira stood up and paced the small space. “Does this look like it’s fit to entertain the king?” She gestured to the worn but clean chairs on which they were sitting.
“He didn’t seem to mind when he was here,” Sage interjected. “I doubt his focus was on the furniture.”
Mira mumbled to herself, counting on one hand.
“What are you doing?”
“I am making a list. There is a lot to be done before he returns tomorrow…”
Mira spouted off a long list of things to be changed or accomplished before the king’s following visit. It was spoken so quickly that Sage caught only a few of her self-imposed tasks: scrub the stone, new furniture, food, waitstaff. Sage shook her head. Mira was overthinking it.
Sage hoisted herself out of her chair and into the healer’s path. She grasped Mira’s biceps, shaking her once. “Listen. Calm down. I have a feeling that wouldn’t please him at all.”
Mira opened her mouth to argue but Sage cut her off. “I’m sure you know much more about palace etiquette than someone such as myself, but I got the impression he enjoyed the simplicity of today. Little is needed. From what I gathered, he has been seen little these last few years. He obviously wants to be left alone, so no waitstaff. I agree on the refreshments though. It’s a wonderful idea as men can always eat.”
The blonde pursed her lips as she contemplated. “Men do love food,” she finally conceded. Mira noted the setting sun and hustled her back into their suite. “Let’s start a fire and get you all toasty.”
Sage closed the doors to the balcony, drawing the heavy curtains across the windows, and clambered into the enormous bed. She quaked underneath the covers while Mira coaxed the fire back to life. Sage ground her teeth together in frustration. It wasn’t even that cold outside and yet she shivered like it was the middle of winter. She owed Mira her life.
“Thank you, Mira.”
“It’s nothing, Ruby.”
Sage was really starting to hate that name. She wished she could give Mira her real name. It seemed like ages since she was truly herself.
Her mind flitted to her family. What were they doing at this moment? Had they stopped searching for her? Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of the fear and pain her family must be experiencing. She had disappeared from their lives over two weeks ago. Sage needed to keep focused on regaining her health; she would not break down. She had to keep up this pretense until she managed escape. Sage shoved down her sadness and turned her thoughts to the day’s unusual visit. No matter how charming the king was, his visits didn’t bode well for her.
“Mira?”
“What is it?” Mira sat on the bed next to her.
Sage swallowed hard, hoping this gamble would pay off. “I am worried about the attention this will bring me if others know about the king’s visits. I feel like it’d be best if we kept everything discreet.”
Mira studied her face and clasped her hand. “I agree. When the king left, he demanded the guards’ silence but not mine. However, I see the wisdom in keeping silent, so I shall. Gavriel reports back to the princes though, so we need to be careful to leave out any mention of his visits in the evenings.”
“You would do that for me?”
“I would do it for both of you. You may be just what the king needs right now.” Mira stood and moved toward the door. “I’ll go and find us some dinner.”
“This means a lot to me. I won’t ever forget your kindness, Mira,” Sage said with sincerity, every word from her heart.
Mira winked over her shoulder, exiting the chamber. “Next time, you can take care of me when I’m ill.”
Guilt coursed through her, knowing she wouldn’t be here when Mira got sick. Hopefully, she would be far away and could leave this all behind her, but something told Sage that leaving Mira would be much harder than she’d initially imagined.
Knuckles wrapped on the door as it swung open.
“That was quick, Mira. Did you run all…” Sage sat up, surprised.
Gavriel strolled through the door, his black hair windswept, his violet eyes warm.
She twisted to the windows, noting the faint light filtering through them. “You’re early.”
A spark of anxiety crept up on her. She had never been alone with him before. Why the change? Sage swallowed and tried to be rational. Gavriel hadn’t hurt her. He’d always been kind. He saved her.
Gav wouldn’t hurt her.
“Well, I had little to do this evening, and I wanted to escape dining with the court. Thus, I decided to beg for sanctuary.” He cast her a sheepish grin.
“By all means, enter and enjoy the comfort of my Crown-appointed abode.” Sage gestured to the opulent suite.
Gavriel jostled something under his arm while he moved to his cot, his back to her. She peeked out of the corner of her eye, covertly examining the parcel.
“Would you like to see what it is I brought you?” he said, not turning around.
How did he know she was looking? He must have eyes on the back of his head, just like her mother.
“I would,” she said. “I must admit my curiosity is piqued.”
Avoiding any sudden movements, he made his way over to her, a spring in his step, placing the parcel on her bed.
If any other man had done so, she’d have scampered away, but there was something so soothing about Gavriel. This man could have left her to die, but he didn’t. He chose to help her. She had nothing to fear from him.
Carefully, she unwrapped the parcel. Inside, she found a stunning chessboard. “A game?”<
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She tipped her head up staring into his gorgeous violet eyes. The man had no right to look that devastatingly handsome.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What?” She blinked.
He rubbed his nose, flashing her a shy smile. “Um…about my eyes.”
Sage squished her eyes close, mortified. Of all the things to say out loud. A nervous chuckled escaped her. “Oh, hell, I can’t believe I said that out loud.” She wanted to bang her head against the wall.
He waved a hand at her as if to wash away her embarrassment.
“It’s true, though. You are gorgeous. I have never seen eyes like yours before.”
Seriously.
Someone needed to bind her mouth shut.
It was his turn to give her an embarrassed smile. “Why thank you.”
“But I can’t accept this,” Sage sighed dramatically. “What would your court think of you bringing a thief gifts? It simply isn’t done!”
“I’ll just tell them that my eyes didn’t woo you, so I had to bring you gifts to capture your heart,” he teased.
The awkwardness melted away with their combined laughter.
Gavriel bowed to her. “So, my lady, would you like to play a game of chess with me?”
“Of course, my lord, that sounds positively delightful!” she simpered. A smile played about his lips as he set up the board.
That started what was to become a nightly tradition of theirs. They gossiped, laughed, and teased Mira, whose frequent response was a playful scowl over the top of her book.
But Sage still dreaded going to bed. Everyone settled down and fell into an easy sleep, save her. She would stare at the ceiling, willing herself to stay awake, until sleep claimed her anyway.
Nightmares assaulted her.
Sharp blades. Terror. Leering faces. Torn clothing. Humiliation. Pain. Rough, bruising hands. Helplessness. Shame.
The first time, she woke up screaming, Gav had his arms wrapped tightly around her. Mira was whispering, but Sage didn’t understand what she was saying.
