Without removing his gaze from Jinji, Whylrhen tore the gate open, flinging the bars to the side, charging in without any hesitation. But the moment he closed the gap, his touch turned tender. Such a drastic change from the man Leena had just observed. He slowly lifted his hands to cup Jinji’s cheeks, fierce eyes running over every contour of her face, drinking her in.
“Are you all right?” he asked, voice calmer, growing more affectionate with each passing word. “I’m so sorry. I came as soon as I heard. The gods, I think I punched one of the guards just to let my anger out on someone. But I commanded them to treat you as a lady of the court—not as a criminal!”
“Rhen,” Jinji said with a sigh, cheeks blushing pink, eyes alight with humor, and with something else, something Leena recognized and desperately missed. Love. Though she felt like an intruder in an intimate moment, she couldn’t look away. Because her heart hurt, and for the first time in weeks, watching the two of them made her feel just the slightest bit better. “I’m all right.”
And upon hearing those words, all of the tension left Whylrhen’s body, and he tugged, pulling Jinji into his arms, enveloping her small figure in a tight embrace. Leena watched Jinji sink into his touch, but a moment later her body stiffened and she released a small hiss of pain.
Feeling the ropes chafing her own wrists, binding them painfully, Leena understood. But the prince, on the other hand, pulled back, confused.
“What…” And then Leena watched as his eyes dipped to Jinji’s hands and darkened to the color of deep emerald. Grabbing a dagger, he sliced the ropes with a growl, brushing his fingers gently over her raw wrists. Her skin was maroon and scabbed, deep brown with scar tissue—disfigurement that these ropes could never have caused. Like one of the unmarked, Leena mused, frowning. What had happened to Jinji in the weeks since they had last met? What had happened to them both?
But Jinji paid no attention to the marks on her arms, to the pain. Instead she reached up to touch Whylrhen’s cheek, murmuring, “It’s okay.”
And they stayed like that, gazing into each other’s eyes, words and feelings unspoken. The moment stretched, deepening their connection, and Leena couldn’t help but bite her lips with contained joy. Watching them now, nothing had ever been clearer. Jinji was in love with the prince, as she always had been. And clearly, the prince was in love with her as well. But even more obvious, revealed by the gentle touches, the long embraces, the longing gazes, was the fact that neither person was aware of the other’s affection. Lovers would kiss upon meeting, would cross that line, but these two were straddling it, on the verge of diving head first off that cliff.
And though she wanted to let them have their moment, to let them bask in their emotions for just a little while longer, Leena knew she had to act. Love would always find a way to make itself known, but right now, Leena had vital information to get to the king, information that might help defeat the army sitting beyond these walls, and she had been delayed long enough.
Coughing under her breath, Leena gently broke the moment. Slowly Jinji and the prince both turned, eyes shifting to Leena. Whylrhen jumped away, startled, as though noticing for the first time that the two of them weren’t alone.
After a moment, recognition flashed across his irises, and he offered her a deep bow before jumping forward to slice the ropes binding her wrists. “Princess Leena, welcome to Rayfort. I apologize that the welcome was not as, well, welcoming as you probably hoped it would be. But I assure you, my promise of providing you safe haven has not been forgotten.”
As he spoke, a weight she had been trying to ignore lifted, a little doubt dislodged. Whylrhen was holding true to his word, to his promise. For the first time since Mikza was taken from her, Leena felt safe.
“Prince Whylrhen, it’s an honor to be here,” she said and curtsied, bending deeply. Mind flashing back to the last time she had seen him, passed out on the floor of her home and then stuffed in the trunk of her carriage, Leena couldn’t help but add, “And a pleasure to see you again, conscious this time.”
“I try,” he drawled, shaking his head with just the slightest embarrassment. But both of them were smiling at the memory. “How is it that you came to be here?”
Leena shrugged, the tale was starting to sound absurd to her ears—more like a fable whispered from a mother’s lips to a child’s ears, and less like something she had actually done. “I escaped the golden palace by hiding my tattoos and found passage on a ship bound for Rayfort. We were docked here for two days while the captain tried to gain access to your king. But this morning, I happened to see Jinji on the docks. She seemed unaware of her surroundings and fell into the sea, so I dove to her rescue. Then we were captured and brought here.”
The short version, obviously, but Leena guessed that it worked.
“Unaware of her surroundings?” Rhen questioned, mind obviously circling back to the thing that mattered most to him. “Jin, what happened?”
And both of them turned, only to see Jinji had retreated to the back wall, shrunken as though overcome by some inner fear, watching the two of them with a blank expression.
“Jin?” Rhen asked again, confusion evident in his tone.
Jinji’s breath grew short as she continued to stare at the two of them, eyes flicking back and forth, lips pursing. “I have to go,” she whispered. And then she glanced between the two of them again, wincing.
And in that moment, Leena understood perfectly. But before she could speak, before she could soothe Jinji’s fears, the girl ran from the room as fast as her feet could take her.
“Jin!” Rhen called, but she was already gone.
Leena sighed. That was the one problem with love undeclared—it bred insecurity. She could remember those long months before Mikza first kissed her, before she truly understood that the twinkle of interest in his eyes was not just her imagination. Every glance had a double meaning, every word would be dissected, every ounce of attention gifted to another was scrutinized. And often not in her favor.
Rhen turned to Leena, eyes wide with uncertainty. “What…?”
And she couldn’t help it, she laughed. Just a tiny puff of air, but enough. The prince was such a man, just as Mikza had been. An idiotic man who just didn’t get it—didn’t get that all he needed to do was speak up, announce his interest, and everything would be clear. But Leena couldn’t tell him what to do—to chase after her, to find her later, to just tell her he loved her. Those were the sort of things a person had to discover on his own, or they meant nothing. So instead, she just smiled. “I’m sure you’ll understand soon.”
“Do you understand?” he asked, doubtful, raising an eyebrow in question.
Her smile grew. “I’m a woman.” She shrugged. “Of course I understand.”
Whylrhen of course just looked more confused than ever. But he shrugged, sighing, prepared to get back on topic. “Princess,” he began, struggling to focus his thoughts.
“Just Leena, please,” she murmured, still unable to hear herself called princess. The words only served to remind her of that weak girl she used to be, the one hiding behind a veil and living in dreams. No, now she was laid bare, no longer the naïve girl she had once been. “I’m no longer the princess I was.”
The prince took her in for a moment, gaze traveling around her frame, noticing, she was sure, the royal way she still carried herself. But after a moment, he just nodded. “Leena then,” he said. “Why did you come?”
“I came for many reasons,” she began, gaze slipping to the floor as all those reasons overwhelmed her. Mikza, her lost love. Haydar, her innocent little brother turned cruel before her eyes. The dead mothers, invisible behind every princess. The slaves, disfigured and helpless against the king. Her very culture, each moment of beauty scarred by some hidden darkness. Many reasons, she thought, and then spoke aloud, “But they all combine to one—my father is an evil man and he must be stopped. I will not allow him to rule over any kingdom any longer.”
Whylrhen nodded. “
I have experienced the wrath of King Razzaq myself, a fate you once saved me from. But is he not your father? Do you truly share no loyalty?”
Leena sighed. The prince didn’t understand. What he witnessed was just the surface of what her father was capable of, a passing image. He didn’t live with the fear every day. He didn’t live with the unending burden her people faced every morning when they woke up and every evening when they went to bed. The harsh reality of Ourthuri life.
“Do you love your family, Prince Whylrhen?” she asked.
The prince’s gaze narrowed, inquisitive. But his answer was without hesitation, instinctual in a way Leena’s never would be if asked the same question. “I do.”
Leena pried further, pushed it further, the only way to make him truly understand. “And your nephew, the future king? Do you love him? Would you do anything for him?”
“I would.” Again, without an ounce of uncertainty.
“Then you will never understand what it means to be Ourthuri,” Leena confessed, sighing as her voice gained the sharpness of the home she left behind, the one she desperately hoped to save. She continued in a whisper, fierce and strong. “It means we do not love, we fear. I have twelve sisters—not a single one would hesitate to kill me if they saw me now. I have one brother—a little boy I love more than anyone else alive in this world. But he is turning into a stranger before my eyes, no longer the caring toddler I once knew. No—my father is warping him, twisting him just like the gold bands that adorn his cold body, molding him into the proper shape. And I cannot stand idly by, watching as my kingdom is cursed to another harsh reign, another king who favors punishment above praise, another king who rules by fear.” Leena paused, breathing heavily, trying to regain her lost composure. “You are fighting a war to save your kingdom, and I am fighting one to save mine.”
But before the prince could respond, the sound of feet pounding against stone filtered to her ears. Leena turned only to find another Son of Whyl with burning red hair running toward her. And based on the information she had gleaned from Tam, there was only one other Son of Whyl who it could be. Whyllem, the king regent.
“Where is the second one? The slave?” he asked, panting to catch his breath.
Leena winced, looking at Rhen who already had his lips drawn in a thin line, fury blazing in his eyes. “There never was a slave,” he growled through gritted teeth. “The guards mistook Lady Jinji for an Ourthuri slave due to the scars around her wrists, but I released her and sent her back to her rooms.”
Leena couldn’t help but bite back a grin as Rhen described Jinji’s exit. Released her? It took all of Leena’s control not to raise her brow at him in mockery. But she didn’t have to, Whyllem didn’t hold back.
“That explains the guard with a bloody nose outside,” he drawled, trailing off for emphasis before turning to her, intrigued.
Leena stepped forward, curtsying. “I am Leena, former princess of Ourthuro, and I thank you for the protection the family of Whyl has offered me.”
The king regent took her in, brows raised, and turned to his brother. “Are we offering it?”
Leena gulped, closing her eyes tight for a moment to hide the dread that must be devouring them. If she wasn’t safe here, than she was as sure as dead because without the protection of the family of Whyl, King Razzaq would surely find her. And there was not a doubt in her mind that she would be given no mercy. In her father’s eyes, she was already dead. He would take no pain in killing her.
“We are,” Whylrhen spoke, authority oozing from the words. The king regent nodded slightly, accepting his brother’s statement as truth, and relief flooded Leena’s body—relief that she was safe, relief that she still might be able to save her people, relief that the hope of bringing an end to her father was still alive, and mostly relief that the two men in front of her were from Whylkin and not from Ourthuro. The unspoken bond they shared, the unbreakable trust, was not the way of the Ourthuri, but it had just saved her life.
Whyllem turned to her, hands clasped behind his back, the image of a king in his stark black overcoat, trimmed with blood red rubies. “Then allow me to be blunt. Can you help us win this war?”
Leena smiled. Finally. “A dear friend of mine was able to gather information for me before I left. It is not much, but I pray that it will help.”
“Anything will,” Whyllem commented darkly.
Was hope so lost? His tone already spoke of defeat.
Leena opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She paused, taking a deep breath, realizing for the first time that up until this moment, she hadn’t done anything to directly betray her people. But giving up this information would result in Ourthuri deaths, would result in innocent lives being lost. Remembering her conversation with Tam weeks ago, she knew it was worth it. Innocent lives would be lost either way, but at least this way she might be able to end her father’s reign, she might be able to make a real difference for her people, to show them that love could be stronger than fear if they just gave it a chance.
“My father seeks an attack by sea above all else,” she said quietly, quickly, almost worried her voice wouldn’t come. But it did. And that gave her the strength to push through. “At least fifty ships wait in Da'astiku, leaving in a week's time if my information is correct. They will travel through the Straits, directing their attack on Rayfort. The lords of your homeland are camped outside, but they are not to engage until my father's ships arrive, until you are surrounded. And then the siege will begin in earnest, not ending, not slowing until the entire city is leveled or the family of Whyl has surrendered."
"How do they plan to make it through the Straits unharmed?” Whyllem asked, taking control over his brother, letting Whylrhen stand back and listen. “A third of our army waits on those cliffs, ready to attack from above."
“I know,” Leena admitted, voice rich with sympathy and sorrow. This was the part the Sons of Whyl had not seen coming, the part that would either break them or give them the strength to keep fighting. And she truly hoped it was the latter, for all of their sakes. "My father knows and they expect your men to be there. Only half of the land army waits outside your walls, and the other half was sent to resecure the Straits so the Ourthuri ships could pass freely. I'm not sure when they will arrive, but I expect it will be soon. And with the cliffs at their backs, your men will be surrounded. Knowing what I know of this kingdom, I doubt they will die without a fight—but they will die eventually."
The king regent cursed under his breath, fists clenching at his side. And then he looked up, expression blank and bare. “Rhen,” he said, sounding like stone, turning to his brother, “please take the princess to her new home and then meet me in the throne room. I need a few minutes alone to think."
Whylrhen did as he was told, taking her gently by the arm, leading her back from where she came, out to the green courtyard, so vibrant compared to the monotone golden walls she had grown up with. And the more they walked, the more Leena began to understand how far from home she really was. Trees. Flowers. Grass. All life too gentle for the harsh rocks of her home. This castle was a stone fortress crushing down paradise, and as she followed Rhen inside, she realized she might have protection in Rayfort, but she would never belong here. Every person they passed paused, snarling at her, eyeing her with mistrust, silently outcasting her and labeling her the enemy. They would never believe all she sacrificed to try to save them, and even if they did, she doubted it would change their minds. She was Ourthuri, other, foreign. Her tattoos were still a label she couldn’t outrun—they still held her hostage.
Eventually Rhen paused beside an open door, showing her inside. “These will be your rooms, Leena. A servant will be here shortly to help with anything you might need.”
And though he didn’t say it, she couldn’t help but wonder—her rooms or her cell? Had she just traded one cage for another?
As though sensing her thoughts, Rhen spoke softly as she passed him by, entering the rooms. “It will get eas
ier.”
She paused, meeting his gaze, wondering if it was foolishness or hope that fueled his words. “How do you know that, Son of Whyl?”
“Because…” He trailed off with a shrug. “It has to.”
Leena smiled sadly, wishing those simple words could be true. “No, it doesn’t, Prince Whylrhen, things can always get worse. But you are right in a way—it will get easier. I know that in my heart.”
And somehow, after everything, after all the loss, she did. Her life was living proof that time only made things more difficult, that time only made things harder. And yet, her hope grew stronger every day, her love for her people, her will to keep fighting, her conviction.
Now it was the prince’s turn to look at her, to wonder what truth she had that he didn’t. “How?” he asked.
Mikza’s face came to the forefront of her thoughts. His caring umber eyes. His sturdy, calloused hands. His gentle lips. His soft fingertips. His unwavering heart. “Because I’m in love with an amazing man,” she whispered gently. “And though he is now no more than ash in the wind, his memory gives me the strength to do what I must.”
Before she broke down and let the tears on the edges of her eyes slip free, Leena slammed the door in the prince’s face, relishing her solitude. And then she walked to the window, opening it to let the breeze in and imagined the landscape before her was not a foreign one of rocks and trees and fields that stretched on as far as the eye could see. No, surprising even herself, she imagined she were home on her balcony, staring over gleaming metal to a sea that stretched for miles. And as the wind kissed her cheeks, Leena imagined it were Mikza, embracing her when she needed him most.
THREE
For the thirteenth morning in a row, Leena woke with the unmistakable urge to vomit. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for the morning routine. Counting wooden slabs, dreaming of getting off this godforsaken ship.
Leena's Story - The Complete Novellas (A Dance of Dragons Book 4) Page 12
