The Heart Between Kingdoms

by Mary Dublin

  "Of course," Logan said, furrowing his brow in a serious manner and drawing himself up taller, if that was possible. "You have nothing to worry about. Anything she needs."

  Relaxing a bit by Daniel's side, Esmae offered the knight an assuring smile. "I'll try not to be too demanding, sir."

  "Fret not, my lady." Logan loosened up and shrugged his armor-clad shoulders. "One may grow bored without demands."

  "Hopefully not too bored while I'm choosing just the right shade of tablecloths for the Verral dinner," she said, not bothering to hide her grimace.

  Daniel chuckled and squeezed her shoulder sympathetically, recalling how much she had been looking forward to getting away for a few days. "At the very least, you'll have someone to share your complaints with," he teased, seeing as she wouldn't have Brennan to confide in either that day.

  "I won't mind the company," Esmae said with a small laugh. She nodded at Logan. "Thank you, sir."

  Her hand tightened on Daniel's before facing him completely.

  "I'll see you soon," she told him. "And you'd better be in one piece."

  "I will. You just worry about those tablecloths."

  Esmae gasped indignantly, narrowing her eyes at him reproachfully. But she rose on her toes anyway when he bent, a smile on the lips that pressed to his own.

  Their kiss was far too brief for his liking but there was no helping it. The traveling party was ready and he had to mount. From Amos' back, he could barely make out Esmae any longer. He shielded his eyes with his hand, looking at the hills turned to gold by dawn's light.

  Just one day, he reminded himself.

  With that pale comfort in the back of his mind, and Brennan's small but reassuring presence in his pocket, Daniel dug his heels into the stallion's side. Amos charged forward at a gallop, setting the pace for the other twelve as they rode on.

  The ride was not quite the leisurely napping opportunity that Brennan had hoped. Not at all. The horse's gallop shook through him like a relentless earthquake that he couldn't get used to. His fingers soon became stiff and cramped from white-knuckling the fabric around him. Even if the movement wasn't so jarring, the sound of the hoofbeats alone was enough to give him a headache that he predicted would haunt him for days to come.

  He wondered if it would be much better if Daniel wasn't in rush to return home. Whatever the case, the idea of flying became far more pleasant almost immediately. Unfortunately, there was no way to alert Daniel. The gallop would make any attempt to get the prince's attention unnoticeable. Magic would be noticeable, no doubt, but far too noticeable to the unwanted eyes trailing behind Daniel.

  Huffing in resignation, Brennan put his back to the side of the pocket, willing himself to get used to it. Gradually, the ride went from unbearable to highly annoying.

  With darkness behind his only companion in the pocket, there was no way to know for sure how much time had passed. Judging by the gnawing in his stomach, he had managed to suffer through several hours.

  Brennan didn't notice the horse was slowing down until his fingers released the pocket fabric of their own accord. He frantically gripped at it again, only to realize the world wasn't lurching quite as much as before.

  "Finally," he breathed when the horse came to a stop.

  "We're making good time, Your Highness," one of Daniel's knights called over. Their voices rang out once in a while during the ride, but Brennan hadn't been able to make out the words mingling with the hoofbeats. "We should be a little more than halfway there."

  "Dammit," Brennan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He didn't realize sweat was beading on his forehead until then.

  His attempt to sit up straighter was dashed when Daniel moved abruptly. Brennan didn't have time to gasp before the human prince swung himself off the horse and hit the ground with an impact that left Brennan in a heap at the bottom of the pocket.

  As he sat up with a scowl, Daniel's voice reverberated through him.

  "All the same, we shouldn't pause for too long. We're to return to the palace as soon as possible."

  The chorus of "yes, Prince Daniel" and "of course, Your Highness" sounded distant as Daniel strode in another direction. Brennan swore that the prince's footfalls were barely a breeze compared to Amos' gallop.

  By the time the steps stopped altogether, Brennan didn't care whether Daniel was alone or not. He would shoot out so quickly, no human would be able to spot him. And after catching his breath in air that didn't smell of his own sweat, he would circle back to contact Daniel. He couldn't stay in there for another second.

  A shiver ran through the cloak, followed by the distinct sound of the clasp being undone. Brennan was abuzz, every inch of his body tightly wound as he watched the opening overheard. The moment light winked down into the hot, silken hammock, he launched into the air with wings spread wide—

  And slammed right into Daniel's hand.

  Stars exploded in his vision. The woods blurred into dark silk and fur, and despite his best efforts to orient himself, he suddenly wasn't in the air anymore.

  "Gods above, Brennan! Are you alright?" Brennan's ears rang with the sound of Daniel's booming surprise.

  Brennan lifted his head, pushing a hand through his wild hair. He craned his neck back, eventually able to discern a large face peering down at him.

  How did I ever let you talk me into this you stupid, stupid human?

  "I'm fine," was what came out instead.

  Daniel seemed unconvinced. He was lifted closer to the prince's face, concern brimming in giant eyes. "You look a little… green."

  "You would too, if you'd been riding in there," Brennan said, pushing to his feet. "Let me down, Daniel, I'm fine."

  To his dismay, he wobbled. His knees were like jelly and when he tried to take a step towards the side of the gloved palm, he fell back on his ass.

  "Dammit…"

  "Doesn't seem to me you're anywhere near the realm of fine," Daniel sighed.

  He lifted his head and glanced back towards his men, conflict brewing on his face. As accustomed as Brennan had grown to the presence of humans, he gave a start when the prince suddenly faced him again. It didn't help that Daniel's expression took on an intensity that made chills crawl down Brennan's spine. That was, until he realized the prince was only deep in thought.

  "You're doing it again," Brennan announced casually.

  The prince blinked, confusion muddling his unintentional severity. "Doing what?"

  "Looking like you're weighing the pros and cons of murder."

  "Sorry," Daniel muttered, sheepish. "I'm just trying to decide what to do. We… I suppose we can wait a while longer than planned while you recover."

  The fact that he would offer Brennan any amount of time while he was in a rush to return to his father was enough to make Brennan's scowl lessen. But it couldn't stop him from grimacing.

  "And then go right back into the pocket? Count me out."

  "You have a better plan?" Daniel asked with raised eyebrows.

  "Just about anything would be a better plan. But since you asked, yes. I do."

  Brennan pushed himself to stand again, trying to keep steady as he stretched his wings out. When he teetered, Daniel's thumb immediately curled inward to offer help that was hesitantly accepted. He had been so preoccupied with his other discomforts that he hadn't realized how cramped his wings had been inside the pocket.

  "Leave me here," Brennan decided, flexing his wings to ready himself. "I'll follow you when you set off again."

  Daniel didn't appear thrilled by the idea. "You want me to leave you alone in a forest?"

  Brennan gave him a long look, then lifted both hands in a helpless shrug. "I mean no offense, Your Highness, but you do know that I live in a forest, right?"

  "No, you live in a palace that happens to be in a forest. There's a difference. Besides, we're still a good distance from the estate, and I doubt we'll be stopping again before we get there. How do you expect to follow if you can barely stand on your own?" />
  "Well, it's not as though I'm going to be walking there." Wings humming to life, Brennan lifted off Daniel's palm. The dizzying aftereffects of the ride threatened to drop him back down, but he was determined to stay at a steady hover. "See? Fine."

  Apparently having little faith in his insistence, Daniel kept his hand at the ready just below him. "You'll be able to keep up?"

  Brennan rolled his eyes. "Please. I can fly faster than your horse."

  A smirk curved at the corner of Daniel's mouth. "I imagine that isn't difficult, seeing as horses don't fly."

  The quip earned him a swipe at his nose. "Why do I want to go anywhere with you, Daniel?" Brennan grumbled.

  The prince grinned rather devilishly in reply.

  Voices of his men clamored, less distantly now. They did not come nearer than fifty feet, and Brennan suspected the prince had asked for space. Even still, he half expected Daniel to turn on his heel in the next moment and return to his riding party, but he rummaged in his trouser pocket instead. He produced a small pouch made of green leather and tugged at the drawstring.

  Brennan brightened as the smell of spiced fruit caught on the breeze. Daniel deftly sliced a small bit off the largest apple ring and offered it on an open palm.

  "Here. You should eat something, at least."

  Almost too eagerly, Brennan dove down to accept the slightly too-big piece. From first bite, he could feel any lingering irritation towards Daniel melt away. He chewed happily, eyes flicking up to find the prince was still eyeing him uneasily. Beneath the shadow of a stray black curl, large blue eyes seemed to both implore and demand in silence.

  Brennan swallowed his bite, drifting closer. "You're trying to make me change my mind," he accused the eyes.

  "Maybe."

  "It's not going to work."

  Daniel pursed his lips. But before he could argue further, another rider's voice boomed through the woods. Closer now.

  "Prince Daniel! Are you alright?"

  Daniel jerked his head over his shoulder. Conflicted though he was, he was out of time to win Brennan over and they both knew it. He huffed, shoving the pouch back into his pocket and fixing the clasp at his neck.

  He leaned forward to growl, "Be careful," at Brennan. Then, with a sweep of his heavy cloak, Daniel stormed from the dense woods.

  "Am I ever not?" Brennan called gamely, knowing his voice wouldn't carry much farther than Daniel.

  Brennan didn't linger where he was for long. Without Daniel there to block the view of him, his instincts to avoid being level with humans guided him up to the cover of the trees. A relieved grin spread across his face. The midday sun had warded off most of the morning chill, but the air was blissfully cool compared to the stifling confines of the pocket.

  Weaving expertly through the canopy of leaves, Brennan kept an eye out for birds before perching on a tree just short of the path the riders were taking. He leaned against the smaller branch jutting out behind him and took generous bites of the fruit Daniel had provided him.

  As it turned out, it was good that he didn't stop to savor his lunch. Daniel mounted his horse and took his place at the head of the party again.

  While the other men had no reason to notice, Brennan observed as the prince hesitated and turned his head toward the trees. The indecision lasted for only a moment before Daniel spurred Amos to resume their journey, and the others followed suit. Even from high up, the sound of the horses' gallops made Brennan cringe.

  He tossed aside what was left of his fruit for some lucky bird or squirrel to find and leapt into the air, not wanting to fall behind. Brennan kept the trees, flying parallel to the riders. The prospect of the hours of flying that lay ahead of him was daunting, but the thought of the alternative swiftly silenced any complaints.

  Chapter

  Three

  The distant shadows of mountains on the horizon were a little less distant now. Brennan was perched on the ledge of a high window, sheltered from falcons and grey owls, looking out at the sprawling grounds while he caught his breath. He had fallen behind on the last leg of the ride, but by then he could easily see where they were headed.

  The whole of the Anglian estate was not even half the size of Daniel's palace, Brennan decided, but there was a certain allure about the glittering stonework. Instead of several turrets, the majority of the masonry had been dedicated to a single, massive tower in the center of the grounds. The rest of the estate was built around it: noble dormitories and ballrooms, gardens, stables and vineyards. Everywhere space could be found, a yellow banner of a jeweled serpent was hung—under awnings, on cloaks, and even on the horses strolling in the pasture.

  No lack of pride here, he thought dryly.

  Brennan stretched his arms out over his head, wishing he had worn a lighter tunic this morning. His lungs still burned from the journey, and he was fairly certain that he smelled like it too. He would need a rosemary bath the instant he returned home.

  But for the moment, his skin was cooled and his wings were rested. Now, he had to locate Daniel.

  It was difficult to know where to begin. Several of Daniel's men were milling near benches in the gardens, drinks in hand, but there was no sign of their prince. Taking to the air, Brennan followed the current of a cutting breeze to circle around the fat tower. It seemed like his surest bet.

  Keeping a wary eye out, Brennan peered through one of the windows near the top, discovering a staircase that ran along the inside of the tower, but there was no activity. He moved from window to window, trying to get an idea of the interior. There were countless assembly rooms and studies of different sizes, but Daniel was not in any of the few that were occupied.

  Though Brennan wanted to avoid getting any closer to the ground, he found himself needing to survey windows lower and lower. He wondered if he should check some of the other buildings, but the idea vanished when he finally came upon a high-ceilinged chamber with open air windows.

  Perching on the ledge, he kept as far to the corner to remain out of sight. He doubted it would matter, really. The humans below were too invested in their own matters to worry about looking up at the high windows.

  Daniel was there.

  Flanked by two of his knights, the prince stood before a long table. Seated on the other side were a man and woman who could only be Lord and Lady Anglian, along with other officials and several household guards who were stationed behind them. The humans' conversing voices carried, but the breeze outside made it difficult for Brennan to catch the words.

  Too curious to remain where he was, he flexed his wings and tore his eyes away from the ground to search higher. Anglian pride proved to be useful; several banners hung from the ceiling, not only providing extra perches, but offering extra cover from the eyes in the room. After ensuring that no one was looking up, Brennan slipped away from the window and alighted on a thick wooden rod that held one of the banners.

  From there, he could peer down at a sideways view of the meeting. It wasn't until then that he realized the room was rather tense.

  "I'm afraid that I can't go any higher, Lord Anglian," Daniel was saying. "My final offer is higher than what is listed in the agreement. Be reasonable." He stood straight, looking quite princely, but Brennan could tell that he was putting effort into looking the part. Hopefully it wasn't as obvious to the others.

  A sheet of parchment sat on the table before the estate's lord. He was an older man with graying dark-blonde hair, but the authority he commanded seemed to push all the way to the far walls of the room.

  "Reasonable?" Anglian eyed Daniel with uncertainty and nowhere near the amount of respect that should have been presented to his future king. "Your Highness, do you believe it reasonable for the crown to go back on its word? If you reviewed our past agreements, you would notice that my family is due a larger sum."

  Brennan narrowed his eyes. No wonder Daniel had been wary of this one. He had to be lying through his teeth. Hold firm, Brennan willed.

  "I might remind you that
I have other families to compensate besides your own," Daniel replied patiently.

  "We are not the other families," Lord Anglian was dismissive. "I've been loyal to the crown—to Mirrel—since before you were born." There was a deep pause before he tacked on a begrudging, "Your Highness."

  "Does that make their loyalty worth any less?"

  Lord Anglian did not reply, but the sneer on the corner of his mouth was telling enough. "Your father understood the meaning of our friendship," he went on with a razor-thin smile. "You don't want to insult your closest friends just before you ascend the throne. It's not what he would have wanted."

  "For the gods' sake, he's not dead yet!" Daniel snapped, losing his princely posture for a moment too long.

  Lady Anglian put a hand on her husband's wrist. "Of course not," she said hastily. "Our deepest apologies, Your Highness. My husband misspoke."

  At his wife's gentle prompting, the resident lord sat back in his ebony chair and folded his hands on the document that Daniel had written out.

  The silence that followed was deafening. Even up on the rafters, Brennan felt hairs rising on the back of his neck from the way Daniel regarded Lord Anglian.

  "I am not my father," Daniel said, a sudden chill in his voice. "I'm afraid I'm done negotiating, Lord Anglian. You will accept the price I've prescribed. And my gratitude, naturally."

  Brennan held his breath, certain that Lord Anglian was going to argue further. Daniel's knights were tense, as were the guards on the dais. He knew that when it came to royals, there were only so many criticisms and insults that could be tossed around before things escalated. And with the number of men in the room who were one swift motion away from unsheathing a weapon, blood could easily be spilled.

  Lord Anglian took a glance at the men seated on his right. Though no words were exchanged, a conversation seemed to pass among them before the lord faced forward again. The scowl on his face was not promising, but to Brennan's surprise, it morphed into a begrudging expression.