Salvation by the Sea: The Tale of the Innkeeper's Maid (Fairetellings Book 4)

by Kristen Reed

  Muirigan shuffled over to the full length mirror a few paces away and examined her reflection. She recoiled at the sight of a bump on her forehead from where she hit her head the previous night. As if the knot wasn’t already noticeable, its lilac color and the other bruises that marred the left side of her body and arms would have drawn considerable attention on their own. Muirigan trembled and tears moistened her cheeks as she look in the effects of Torvald’s failed pursuit, but the maid comforted herself with the reminder that she was safe. No harm would come to her in the palace.

  But what about when I leave?

  Shaking off the haunting thought and memories of Torvald’s prior assault, Muirigan slowly walked over to Halvard’s desk. The prince’s writing space was neat and organized with a variety of pens, paper, a stack of letters, his Bible, and a few books. A chuckle escaped from Muirigan’s lips upon spying the copy of The Phantom Ship. Many of Frederick Marryat’s reviewers panned his book, but she and the prince spent hours reading the tale of Philip Vanderdecken’s valiant efforts to save his father to one another.

  It was the last gift she gave him before death tore their lives apart.

  As Muirigan began to thumb through the novel, eager to read the familiar text and remember the humorous voices they used to give the characters life, she knocked over the stack of papers beside it. Marking the page she left off on with her finger, knelt and retrieved them, noticing they each featured a broken royal seal. Muirigan always prided herself on not snooping through the guests’ belongings at the inn, but curiosity won out over propriety when she caught a glimpse of her name on one letter. Glancing over her shoulder to double check that the door was still closed, the maid pored over the text.

  Dearest Muirigan,

  It pained me deeply to see your distress at Lady Antonia’s funeral, and my compassion for you grows every day. Even with my parents just across the Nerida Sea in Schlagefilde, it’s strange being in the palace without them in it and to see Viggo take charge during their absence. While I know my disquiet is infinitesimal compared to the agony you’re experiencing, it serves as a constant reminder of your predicament, and I hope this unusual letter will bring you at least a little joy during these dark times.

  Upon turning eighteen earlier this year, my father asked me what I desire for my life. I’m not passionate enough about any subject or discipline enough to choose a vocation or commit to years of study at the university, but there is one thing I know for certain and was finally able to admit.

  I love you.

  I’ve been hesitant to say those words when we’ve been together without having my father’s blessing, and I feel like a coward even now for putting them in writing instead of declaring my affections in person. However, when he gave his consent, I couldn’t let another day pass without making my feelings known. I know this declaration might be surprising considering the years of friendship between us, but I pray that you find my declaration heartening during this tumultuous season rather than offensive.

  I depart this afternoon to join my fellow soldiers once more in Eusebia, but I have every intention of writing you during my absence and courting you properly if you return my affections. I eagerly await your response whether it carries a message of acceptance or rejection. If the latter, I will continue to cherish your dear friendship. If the former, I will count myself as the luckiest man in Villriket and shout my good fortune from the rooftops.

  As always, you are in my prayers and in my heart.

  Affectionately Yours,

  Hal

  Upon reaching the letter’s end, Muirigan immediately read it two more times to reexamine every single word. Her jaw dropped and her hand flew to her heart as she grasped that the endearing epistle wasn’t a hallucination inspired by the ceaseless throbbing in her head. Though her spirit swelled with joy as she read the prince’s declaration, the fact that he wrote it six years ago sobered her. So much time had passed since his heartfelt letter, and the years drastically altered both of them. The fires of love he expressed as a young man had likely turned to ash, which she scattered in the wind with her dishonesty.

  But still … he had loved her.

  Against her better judgment, Muirigan set aside the first letter and thumbed through the others on the desk. Halvard addressed each one to her and wrote tidings of love, inquiries as to how she was healing from her mother’s suicide, and tales of his friendship with Prince Edric of Eusebia. After the third message, Halvard began to question her lack of a response. Eventually, he assumed that she was too overwhelmed by her recent tragedy to focus on romance or too concerned about hurting his feelings to reject him. In his sixth and final letter, the prince promised to abstain from contacting her until they could converse in person at Christmas.

  Since Halvard’s letters were neatly stacked on his desk, Muirigan grasped that someone returned them to him at some point because of her untimely eviction. The poor prince spent weeks thinking she rejected him and the following years assuming that she was dead once he learned of her disappearance. Then, when God gave Muirigan the opportunity to give him peace about her fate and explain that she returned his feelings, she lied to him.

  God, please forgive me, and help him do the same.

  The evidence of Muirigan’s despair moistened the final epistle, and she promptly blotted her tears off the paper lest they smear the black ink. The maid placed the letters and the book back where she found them and returned to bed with grief growing deep in her heart and guilt gnawing at her conscience.

  

  Muirigan slipped in and out of sleep for much of the day. Eventually, she picked up The Phantom Ship and used the novel to distract herself from the temptation to examine Halvard’s letters again. An hour later, a servant came to draw Muirigan’s bath. The matronly woman insisted on staying in the room with her back turned while Muirigan bathed lest she lose consciousness once more drown in the prince’s tub.

  Shortly after Muirigan donned a clean dressing gown, Dr. Nilsen reappeared and gave her another examination. The doctor asked tiresome questions, inspected the dilation of her pupils, and performed other tedious tasks. As he assessed her progress, Halvard stepped into the room, looking uncharacteristically rumpled and still wearing his clothing from the ball. Once the physician finished his work, he welcomed Halvard with a bow. After giving him another report on her health, Dr. Nilsen exited the bedroom, leaving Muirigan with only the prince and her anxious thoughts for company.

  The wordless moment between the two stretched for an eternity in Muirigan’s eyes, but the prince eventually took the initiative and ended the minutes long, somber silence.

  “Dr. Nilsen told me you have a concussion,” he explained. “You’ll be fit to travel soon enough, but he advised against you returning to the inn until your symptoms have alleviated.”

  Muirigan nodded and turned her eyes to the ceiling, willing herself not to cry at the news that he still wanted her to leave the palace. For all the mercy he displayed in the hours following her encounter with Torvald’s men, her fate remained unchanged. The lies she told cost her dearly, and she deserved to pay the price in full. Halvard would have been well within his rights dumping her at a country doctor’s office or leaving her in the count’s hands.

  “How do you feel?” Halvard asked.

  “I’ve survived much worse, Your Highness,” she whispered.

  Though she didn’t dare look at Halvard, Muirigan heard him cross the room and kneel beside the bed. Despite the prince’s nearness, she still refused to give him the full weight of her sorrowful eyes.

  “I know,” Halvard said. “After you left, Viggo and Ingrid reprimanded me for being so harsh, but I withdrew before they could finish. As I paced up and down the hallway to cool my heels, I ran into Father Ruben. The old man saw my distress and insisted that I share what was on my heart. When I ranted and raved at him about what happened, he too admonished me. Father Ruben is a gentle man, but his words pierced my soul like a sharp bayonet, drawing rem
orse and conviction instead of blood. I immediately left the palace with several guards to bring you back, and we came upon five men attempting to abduct you. Two of them fled into the forest and the other three tried to fight us, but it didn’t take long for us to trounce the fiends.”

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  “You shouldn’t have needed saving.”

  Halvard paused, clenching his jaw and balling his hands into fists as he struggled to suppress his anger.

  “The men gave Lord Torvald up within an hour of their arrest. We detained him and he’s being questioned now. What I don’t understand is why he would target you. I’ve known that Lisbet has her eye on me for quite some time now, but why abduct you when I’d already exiled you from court? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Because Lisbet wasn’t his only motivation, Your Highness. Do you remember what I said about a man beating me the night I met the Hansens?”

  Halvard leaned forward.

  “Yes.”

  “Lord Torvald is the man I spoke of. After finding me in the chapel yesterday morning, he threatened to bring shame upon your family by exposing me if I didn’t agree to marry him. I agreed to his terms, but he must have gone to the king with the truth because I danced with you instead of staying by his side at the ball. I’m just relieved that he exacted his revenge in private instead of dragging you into the muck as well.”

  The prince’s nostrils flared and he leapt up, running his hands through his dark waves and prowling back and forth like a ravenous lion.

  “I’m such a fool! I should have known something was amiss.”

  “How could you have known that he had other intentions? He was right about my past, and you were right to exile me.”

  “No, I wasn’t. You might have sold yourself out of desperation and hid who you were, but I was a judgmental, wrathful hypocrite.”

  “Anyone would have reacted the same way in your position.”

  “But I’m not just anyone! Regardless of my hurt feelings, I should have sought to understand your reasons for lying. I committed sins more grievous than yours for far worse reasons, so who was I to judge and banish you? I should have fallen to my knees and thanked God that you were alive because it nearly destroyed me when you disappeared.”

  “Your Highn—”

  “Why didn’t you just come to me with your troubles? Don’t you know that I could have prevented this?”

  “I’m sorry,” Muirigan sniffled. “People were always asking your family for favors and loans, and I didn’t want to follow in their footsteps.”

  “Losing your family home and wanting a thousand krones to fund a business venture are very different things. I would have moved heaven and earth to make sure you were safe and provided for.”

  “Please don’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t change the past any more than I can.”

  Halvard shook his head and returned to his seat.

  “This has weighed heavily on my shoulders since last night, but you’ve been shouldering a heavier burden for years and clearly found God long before I did. Whatever society might say, I think that makes you far more righteous than I am.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Your Highness,” she said, hating how her voice cracked with emotion.

  “Say that you forgive me.”

  “I forgive you.”

  Though the prince felt some relief, he didn’t quite feel the levity he sought yet.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay here as long as necessary for you to heal and return to the inn if that’s your wish, but I’d like you to remain at the palace after you’re well.”

  “You’ve already been extremely generous to me, Your Highness. I enjoyed these few days in the palace, but I should return home. I won’t stay at court and sully your reputation. Besides, you saved my life, so I think that makes us even.”

  “Muirigan, of all my reasons for asking you to stay, generosity and obligation couldn’t be farther from my mind,” the prince insisted.

  Hearing the unrestrained vulnerability and desperation in Halvard’s voice as he finally uttered her name, Muirigan met his passionate gaze in the dimly lit room. The prince leaned forward and took Muirigan’s hand in his as he spoke, prompting tears to fill her green eyes.

  “I would gladly endure a lifetime of gossip because I know the truth behind the whispers. My passivity prevented me from acting on my feelings when we were younger, but I cannot risk losing you again. If I let you leave without laying my heart bare and voicing my intentions, I’ll be twice the fool I was then.”

  Halvard paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

  “Before we were separated, I thought you were the most beautiful, enchanting woman in the world. Now, I admire you even more because of your unparalleled resilience and humility. You are in no way obligated to remain here after how poorly I treated you last night, but I want you by my side for as long as God allows. Please say that you’ll stay, Muirigan.”

  Muirigan nodded and spoke only a few words lest she ruin the moment by blubbering.

  “I’ll stay, Hal.”

  The prince beamed and kissed Muirigan’s hand, bringing a smile to her face as well. Though it pained him to see the agony just behind the joy lighting up her green eyes, admiration surged in Halvard’s heart. The maid who pulled him from the sea with unexpected might also possessed strength that could only come from carrying the burden of tragedy without being crushed by it. Taking in his beloved with relief and adoration, Halvard vowed to take advantage of his second—or rather third—chance with Muirigan by helping her shoulder the weight of her past and building a future for her that blazed infinitely brighter than the darkness they’d both endured.

  The End

  About the Author

  Kristen Reed, a graduate of the University of Texas at Dallas, is an artist, filmmaker, and author from Dallas, Texas. As a Christian, her faith influences her writing and is the driving force in her life.

  Visit kristenreedauthor.com to learn more.