Broken Dove

by Kristen Ashley

  “No, the madam who puts herself on the back of a horse while injured, determined to learn something new to her world. And the woman who takes a hand in greeting while looking steadfastly in your eyes, hers hesitant but unwavering. And last, the woman who would do her best to embrace a new world very foreign to her even when circumstances are not in her favor. I know all of this having officially met you moments ago and watching but for two days. What I want to know is what more there is to know.”

  Okay, maybe I didn’t totally get him.

  And when he was done speaking, I was holding my breath and doing this because tears were stinging my eyes seeing as all he said was so nice.

  Since he’d shut up and no one was saying anything, I realized it was up to me to break the silence.

  “I was having a pity party,” I shared. “I thought I’d gotten over it but maybe I was hanging onto some of it.”

  While I was talking, he’d moved slightly back and his brows had drawn together.

  When I stopped talking, he asked, “A pity what?”

  “A pity party,” I replied. “I was feeling sorry for myself and being self-indulgent. It’s a weakness.”

  “It’s my experience that a weakness understood is no weakness,” Draven put in at this point and I looked to him. “If you know you have it, even if you can’t control it, you can make allowances for it. It is those who ignore or don’t understand their weaknesses who are wasted by them.”

  I blinked.

  Then I blurted, “Are you all philosopher soldiers, or what?”

  This got me a smile from Achilles, a chuckle from Draven and a burst of laughter from Alek and I had to admit, all three felt good.

  “Come,” Achilles said, offering me his arm even as he tipped his head toward our horses, his eyes on Alek. “I’ll accompany you to the house.”

  I caught his eyes when he looked back at me, took his arm and whispered, “I’d like that.”

  He lifted his chin.

  Alek jogged around us to the horses.

  Draven grinned at me before he turned to his mount.

  And Achilles tucked me close to his side and guided us forward.

  * * * * *

  “It grows late, madam, we must get you in your carriage in order to be back at the country house for dinner.”

  My heart plummeted, I turned, grabbed Derrik’s arm and leaned toward him, catching his eyes and begging, “No. Please? Can’t we stay in Benies for dinner?”

  He stared his down his nose at me.

  Suffice it to say, I freaking loved Benies.

  Pol had taken me to Munich, London, Barcelona and Athens. We’d vacationed on beaches in the Bahamas, Antigua and Montserrat. I’d seen a lot, all of it amazing, including in this world where I saw even more during the long carriage ride into the city in order to “acquire” the things I needed (these, I found out, being jewelry, perfume, makeup, hair stuff, shawls and the like, and let’s just say that shopping in a parallel universe was the bomb).

  But I’d never seen anything like Benies.

  There weren’t any skyscrapers and there was nothing like an Eiffel Towers or ruins, but it was still beyond the beyond.

  Some of the buildings were painted a rich cream but most of them were painted in pastel colors and almost all of them had some magnificently dramatic black wrought iron work, either on balconies or on verandas or just decorating the fronts of windows.

  And all of the buildings had flowers everywhere, blooming out of window boxes and pots on sills and steps and on flowering shrubbery.

  In fact, shrubbery was a thing here, clipped in a variety of amazing shapes in front of houses or along boulevards or in small city parks. Anything from simple cones to fleur de lis to swans to entire people. I’d seen some fancy clip work in my time, but nothing thing like this.

  So it wasn’t about architecture. It was about colors and embellishments, each building, shop or home seeming to try to best the one next to it, this making it all magnificent.

  And then there was the hustle and bustle. So much was happening, people everywhere.

  And their clothes! Mine were good but the women around me, their gloves, their hats, the feathers in their hair, the delicate shawls around their shoulders, the frilly parasols they used, their jewelry blinking in the sun.

  Unbelievable.

  Breathtaking.

  And then there were cafés with outdoor seating, big striped awnings with scalloped edges, white aproned, black-breeches-wearing waiters with hair parted down the middle and oiled to their scalps and crazy-ass mustaches scurrying to take and bring orders.

  Then there were the patisseries with such concoctions in their windows, my mouth watered just looking at them. Derrik noticed, took me in one and bought me the best éclair and cream puff (yes, both, I couldn’t choose) I’d ever had in my life.

  And there were also coffee houses.

  And elegant restaurants (not yet opened; Derrik explained the formal restaurants only opened for dinner).

  And the shops!

  Shops carrying miles of bolts of fabrics in every color and pattern you could think of. Or big baskets of yarn. Or huge barrels of amazing-smelling spices. Jewelry. Ribbons. China. Crystal. Shelves and shelves of wine. Or with cases of dozens upon dozens of cheeses with sausages hanging from the ceiling.

  Last, there was the Marhac Sea, a vast expanse of water that looked like an ocean that stretched the length of the city on the southern end, the sun blinking off the tranquil waters, the water itself giving the city’s air a crisp, clean freshness. Plus there was the cry of the seagulls screaming to anyone who lived landlocked that they were on vacation.

  I loved it. I couldn’t get enough, take enough in. I wanted to stay there for days, not hours.

  Of course, the shopping bit started out weird seeing as Derrik instructed me to get “anything you fancy,” and since I was using Apollo’s money, I didn’t want to get anything at all.

  Achilles, who had come with us, noticed and gave me a good talking to so I decided to get a few things to appease them.

  Laures and Hans also came with.

  Laures had dark hair, seeing as he was of the House of Ulfr, and dark brown eyes, like Achilles. But he was shorter (by a bit), also broader (by a bit) and he had a small half-moon scar around his mouth where a dimple would be that made his normal hotness hotter.

  He and Hans (very blond, ice blue eyes, slimmer than the others but taller), also noticed my hesitancy and did something about it.

  And what they did cracked me right the hell up, seeing as they were genuinely trying to help me find things I liked but both had very bad taste so everything they showed me was heinous and I wouldn’t buy it in this world or any world.

  I knew they were doing this so we could move along as shopping was clearly not one of their favorite pastimes. And they eventually caught on that I was playing with them when I dragged my heels in shops, hemmed and hawed on decisions about the various things they presented for me to hurry up and buy so we could get the fuck out and move on.

  We all got into the joke and Hans and Laures began choosing a variety of intentionally hideous or gaudy things for me, none of which they bought for me, all of which made me laugh until my sides hurt.

  Derrik shut this down (after the fifth shop) and told us to stay focused, though he did it with a smile.

  All the men also noticed that I was wide-eyed with wonder, and enjoying myself immensely, so it was them who started dragging their heels or leading me down various avenues to show me fountains or statues or buildings of note.

  Giving me a great day.

  It had been a whole week since I’d been transported to this world.

  Now, I knew all the men. They dined with me in the evenings (every one of them, as a courtesy at first, I guessed, but I was hoping was their preference now). One, two or most of them would always be at the breakfast table in the morning, coming or going or lounging with me and chatting while I ate.

  There was Der
rik, Achilles, Draven, Alek, Hans and Laures, There was also Remi and Gaston.

  Hans had started my horseback riding lessons.

  Laures, Gaston and Remi were teaching me to speak Fleuridian.

  Achilles was teaching me a one-on-one board game called ricken that was a lot like chess but far more violent. In other words, every piece had a weapon and when you took it, you snapped the weapon off. Apparently “servants” mended the pieces when you were done playing, though I didn’t know how since they started out exquisitely carved and didn’t look mended.

  I asked and Achilles didn’t know how either so I was getting what “servants” got up to didn’t concern their masters, just as long as they got up to it.

  By the way, I sucked at ricken.

  Also by the way, Achilles thought this was hysterically funny, as did Draven and Hans, who often watched, shook their heads and grinned at me with every move I made (you will note, they shook their heads and grinned, but they didn’t give me any advice).

  But all the men were teaching me tuble, a card game that was a game of chance. We played it in the evenings after dinner. And I was good at that.

  They were also teaching me how to cheat, which apparently you were supposed to do.

  I was great at that.

  And now they were giving me Benies.

  Needless to say, the last few days had been better than the first few by, like, a lot.

  This one the best of all.

  And I didn’t want it to end.

  So I had a feeling my eyes were beseeching when I looked up at Derrik and awaited his reply.

  He continued to look down his nose at me with his clear blue eyes and I held my breath.

  Then he murmured, “We’ll take you to dine at Le Pont de L’eau.”

  I leaned back, clapped my hands and cried, “Yay!”

  He smiled indulgently at me.

  “Bloody brilliant,” Laures muttered. “Best veal in Benies.”

  “Forget the veal, best whiskey in Benies,” Hans, also muttering, put in.

  They were already moving to the elegant, shiny black carriage that brought me here (I rode alone, they rode their horses beside it) as I felt Derrik’s hand on my elbow.

  When I looked back to him, it slid down the inside of my forearm and his big hand curled around mine bringing it up and tucking it close to the side of his chest. And hence, tucking me close to his side as he directed us to the carriage.

  It felt nice holding hands and being tucked beside a protective hot guy in a beautiful city in a parallel universe, so I went with it.

  “Also the best views, madam, of Benies and the Marhac Sea,” he said softly, his eyes on me. “It’s right on the water and elevated four stories.”

  “Yay,” I replied softly back and his dancing eyes danced brighter.

  I grinned at him then smiled at the carriage where Achilles was standing, holding open the door and also smiling at me.

  Yes, this was the best day here by far.

  And they kept getting better.

  * * * * *

  Achilles

  “Oh my God, no!”

  Achilles heard Ilsa’s voice as he approached the door to the kitchen, seeing Derrik standing in it leaning against the jamb, his back to Achilles.

  He stopped behind Derrik but to his side, looking in and seeing Ilsa sitting on a stool and leaning on her forearms on the battered kitchen table, listening, or more to the point, watching with rapt attention as one of the maids acted something out.

  There were a few halting words spoken, as Ilsa was picking up Fleuridian by the day, but mostly it was wild gesticulations, a parody of a mime which was already a parody so he could see within seconds it was amusing.

  He watched as all the other maids standing around as well as Ilsa burst out laughing, Ilsa doing it banging her fist on the table and dropping her forehead to it.

  She threw her head back suddenly and cried out, “That’s too funny!”

  All the maids nodded and smiled at her with big smiles even though they probably didn’t know what she was saying. Or maybe they did, picking up the language of the Vale through Ilsa.

  Achilles turned his head to look at Derrik who was watching this, or more likely, watching Ilsa with even more rapt attention than Ilsa had been watching the story mimed out.

  “Hans says her seat on a horse is secure,” Achilles noted in a quiet voice.

  Derrik started and turned his head to catch Achilles’ eyes.

  “He’s reported this to me.”

  “We were to be away three weeks ago,” Achilles reminded him.

  “She’s enjoying herself,” Derrik replied and Achilles took in a short breath.

  Then he got closer and his voice dipped lower. “It’s our charge to get her to safety.”

  “She has eight guards and Apollo explained he’s relatively certain the witch from the other world watches over her,” Derrik returned.

  “Relatively certain is not certain and his orders are to get her to Ulfr grounds as soon as possible,” Achilles retorted.

  Derrik held his eyes.

  Then he lifted his chin.

  After that, he turned his eyes back to the kitchen and muttered, “We’ll leave the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow we take madam back to Benies one last time. She’s enjoyed her days there.”

  He was right. She had. All four of them.

  Achilles stifled a sigh but not his misgivings.

  He would have to keep a sharp eye.

  His gaze moved to the kitchen and he saw Ilsa was looking at them.

  She lifted her hand and gave them an enthusiastic wave.

  And, damn it all, along with Derrik, he lifted his hand and waved back.

  * * * * *

  Laures

  Laures turned his steed and dug his heels in so the horse was at a gallop.

  When he did, he saw Maddie—what they now called Ilsa instead of “madam” so they didn’t have to address her formally nor call her by her twin’s name. Her skirts were lifted in one hand, her parasol in the other bobbing over her head, her feet taking her across the arena toward him, her glorious hair streaming out behind her.

  At the sight, he forgot the pain the blows he took from his competitor’s blunt sword caused and he grinned.

  She came to a teetering halt beside him as he pulled up his reins and she lifted her free hand high, palm facing him, while crying, “You won!”

  He had.

  How he got entered in the games they’d happened on, he didn’t know. Then again, as they rode over Fleuridia, they’d stayed for a fayre in Aisles they were not scheduled to attend. And also, after they crossed into Hawkvale, they’d been roped into attending a sheep shearing festival in Drinton upon which they had no time to waste. But they did.

  “Don’t leave me hanging!” she exclaimed.

  “Pardon?” he asked.

  She shook her hand in the air. “High five!”

  He stared down at her having no idea what she was on about.

  She dropped her parasol unheeded to the ground, reached out, grabbed his gloved hand from his thigh and moved it to smack it against her hand.

  “High five,” she declared. She moved her hand low, palm facing up and slapped his hand against it again. “Low five.” She turned her hand sideways, slapped his hand against it one more time and stated, “To the side.” Lastly, she curled her hand around his, the juncture of her thumb connected to his, her fingers curled around and she pumped their hands back and forth, saying excitedly, “You the man!”

  It was one of her world things, of which they’d been learning many, some of them amusing, all of them fantastical.

  He grinned at her again.

  “You won!” Alek yelled, and Laures looked up, still holding Maddie’s hand, to see all the men had gathered around. “That means you’ll have to enter the arena tomorrow for the championship!”

  He would indeed.

  “I’ll send Apollo a missive and tell him we’ll be at least another we
ek,” Hans muttered, breaking off from the huddle and striding away.

  Laures looked from Hans to Maddie and bent deep. He let go of her hand but wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her on his horse before him.

  “Fancy a victory lap, sweets?” he asked.

  She’d turned her head and he watched her eyes light as she nodded happily.

  He bent deep into her, dug his heels in his horse’s flanks and took off.

  When he did, the peel of Maddie’s laughter rang through the arena, and as it did, it warmed Laures’ heart.

  Then again, anytime Maddie laughed, it warmed his heart.

  * * * * *

  Achilles

  “So, as you can guess from the end of the story, it wasn’t all that great, living in my world,” Maddie murmured her understatement, her eyes on the ground, her fingers tugging at blades of grass and distractedly tossing them away.

  She was lying on the soft turf on her side but up on an elbow, head in her hand, legs curled around, the toes of blue satin slippers peeking out from beneath her lavender skirts. The detritus of their luncheon was spread across the blanket some feet away from their trio.

  Derrik sat on his arse across from her, legs bent at the knees, weight back on his hands behind him.

  Achilles sat with his back against a tree trunk, one knee up. He’d laid his wrist on his knee, hand dangling. His other leg was stretched out.

  Both men’s eyes were on Maddie.

  The sun was shining and they had stopped riding to take lunch. They were two days’ journey from the port city in Hawkvale where they’d board the ship to Lunwyn. The other men were inspecting the steeds in preparation to ride on. The men’s belongings being few (save weapons, which they carried on their persons), Maddie’s much more abundant belongings were separated amongst the saddlebags of their nine horses.

  They should have taken a carriage but Apollo instructed they not. A carriage was much slower going. It would delay their return by some time.

  In the end, however, their return had been delayed by a lot longer than a carriage would have done it. And Achilles had no doubt that Apollo’s wish for them to arrive at Karsvall without delay going unheeded would not make his cousin happy.

  Achilles wasn’t thinking about this.