“I think we’re going to be very good friends,” she said.
Tate smiled at her and in the warmth of the dark pools of his eyes, she knew she had nothing to fear.
It didn’t matter if Tate had chosen her or not. They were in this together.
The tie slipped from Tate’s hair once more and as it fell around his face, she drew in a sharp breath that fanned the spark in her core.
He reached for the tie, but this time she spoke up.
“Leave it, Tate,” she said, with no hint of apology in her voice. Rules were rules.
EDISON
THE NOW
Edison flicked the reins, urging his mules to go faster. He was keen to get to the Bay and collect the kelp his mother required for her useless tonics. That should keep her quiet for a while. Then he’d be free to do what he was really going there for.
He knew his mother appreciated the help he gave her, just as he knew she didn’t appreciate the sharpness of his tongue. But someone had to speak the truth! How else would she know what was going on around her? He was sick of holding back his words and had decided when he’d turned eighteen only recently that he’d speak his mind now that he was a man. He was tired of people treating him like a child.
Prince Tate had turned eighteen recently, too. The exact same day as Edison. And he was being treated so much like a man that the King had chosen him a bride. Where was Edison’s bride? He wouldn’t mind being betrothed to a Guardian. Especially one as appealing as River. Or even better, her sister, who’d have no choice but to be nice to him if it was the King’s order. Not that she was able to be nice to anyone at the moment, lying in her bed.
He sniggered at the thought. Served her right.
Tate was in for quite a shock with his bride. The way she’d spoken back to Edison in the tavern was a disgrace. How dare she say he wasn’t a real man! He’d only been speaking the truth when he’d said she wasn’t a real woman. Guardians had stopped being real women many generations ago. They were mutants now, one glance could tell you that. It wasn’t normal for anyone to grow so tall and strong. She was the freak, not him.
He flicked the reins again and as his mules finally got the message and increased their pace, he wondered what Tate was doing now. Humping his new bride, perhaps? If he was smart, he’d gag her while he was doing it. That guy had all the luck. He always had.
When they’d been young, they’d grown up like brothers, roaming the palace grounds together, with Pip trailing behind, begging them to include her in their games.
Back then, Edison had done anything he could to shake her loose, but Tate had always made excuses for her. He still did. She was as pathetic now as she was back then, looking out her window like she thought the world would come to her, even if she refused to go to it.
If only he’d been smart enough back then to realize the benefit in letting Pip tag long. Maybe then she wouldn’t have shut him out. Maybe Tate wouldn’t have either.
Both Tate and Pip had denied it, but he knew the truth of their feelings toward him. They’d pushed him away when their mother died, taking comfort in the company of each other, making it clear he was an outsider. Their grief bound them in a way that excluded him and he’d hated it. He still did. It’d been over a decade and he still hadn’t found his way back in.
But he was going to change all of that. Because he had a plan. A plan that had nothing to do with becoming the herbalist and everything to do with the palace. It was about time he stopped living in the shadows while Tate got all the glory. They were two boys, born on the same day, but to two very different sets of parents. One set of parents meant Tate got to be King and the other meant Edison got to make tonics for the rest of his life, like he was some kind of servant. And he’d had enough. He was meant to be in the palace, he could feel it in his bones and taste it on his lips. He’d make a far better King than Tate would and if his birthright hadn’t laid that path out before him, then it was time he paved it himself. There was more than one way to become King.
All he needed was some time alone with Pip. And finally, he thought he knew how to make that happen. He had the perfect excuse to be allowed into her bedchamber. And if he could get access to her room, then it shouldn’t be too hard to gain access to her heart.
She clearly thought she was worthless. Why else would she lock herself in her room like that, allowing her health to deteriorate more and more each time the sun set and rose? He’d seen her at her window recently and her size was a real concern now. He could convince her that she was worthwhile, make her feel wanted. And then… well then, her health could deteriorate as much as she liked.
Once he had what he wanted, she could curl up and die just like her pathetic mother, he didn’t mind. Or she could just stay in her room. It was the same difference really. She was practically a ghost haunting the palace right now anyway.
He saw a glimmer of blue ocean on the horizon and smiled. The Bay. The city this kingdom had been named after, before the King’s great grandfather several times removed had built a new castle inland and brought his vision of the Guardians to life, fearful of another attack by Feldspar whose last attempted invasion had very nearly succeeded. Edison would get the kelp, find himself a willing whore, pick up the other supplies he needed and be back with plenty of time to put his plans into place.
Let his mother stew her pathetic herbs all she liked. He was stewing something far greater than her tiny brain could ever imagine.
PIP
THE NOW
Pip watched Tate creep out into the cornfield, surprised he hadn’t waited longer before sneaking away from his new wife. Perhaps she should have realized he’d be keen to escape the palace and the Guardian who now slept beside him. It must be a strange feeling for him to share his bed with someone.
She glanced across at her own bed. Empty and cold, apart from her dolls staring back at her. There were no midnight conversations or the desperate pressing together of flesh happening under those covers. It was just Pip. All day. All night. Nobody to love her and nobody for her to love in return. Somehow, it felt worse now knowing that Tate had somebody, even though she was no more alone now than she’d always been.
It wasn’t like Tate had even wanted to get married. That had been obvious. But she understood why he’d gone through with it. Their father was very difficult to say no to.
She both looked forward to and dreaded meeting his wife. The curious side of her wanted to see what she was like, but this would also involve his wife seeing what Pip was like. And she hated that. Nobody saw her these days. Except Tate, who brought her meals to her. And her father, who liked to stop by every now and then to tell her how disappointed he was with her. And her handmaiden, Elise, who cleaned up after her, but she hardly counted. Maybe she could ask Elise what Tate’s bride was like? She’d said she helped her dress for her nuptials, but hadn’t said much else. She needed to press her for more details. That would be better than having to go through the trauma of meeting somebody new.
Because if nobody new saw her, then nobody could judge her.
A gentle tap sounded at her door and she spun around. It was too early for her father or Elise. And she’d just seen Tate walk out into the cornfields. It couldn’t be his wife, could it? Surely Tate would bring her to meet her himself.
“Who is it?” she called, only to hear another gentle knock in response.
“I said, who is it?” she shouted louder this time, going to the door.
But before she could get her eye to the spy hole, she heard a voice.
“It’s me.”
Her heart skipped a beat and she stumbled back from the door at the sound of the voice of a boy she was once desperate to be her friend. Well, if she was honest, he was a boy she’d been desperate to be a lot more than just her friend. She’d had quite the infatuation with Edison when she was younger, with his fair hair, piercing blue eyes and a quick wit. A boy who’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her, almost as much as she wanted him.
To this day, he remained the only boy she’d ever loved.
But what was he doing here now at her door? She knew he’d seen her looking from her window, but coming face to face with him was quite different.
She smoothed down her hair, wishing she’d had more warning. She may not love Edison anymore, but she still cared about his opinion of her. She didn’t want him seeing how much she’d let herself go.
Sitting down on her bed, she folded her hands in her lap and concentrated on her breathing. She didn’t have to let him in just because he knocked.
“Pip!” he called through the door. “I know you’re in there. Let me in. I just want to talk to you.”
She remained perfectly still, wondering how long she’d need to wait for him to go away. She’d promised Tate she’d never talk to him again. She couldn’t break that promise when Tate had been so good to her.
“I have something for you.” His voice was pleading now. “To help you. Please, let me in.”
For someone who’d waited a decade to speak to her, he was certainly being very persistent all of a sudden.
“Leave it outside my door,” she said, quite liking to be the one to be resisting his cries for attention for a change. He hadn’t seemed to care one bit when she’d followed him around the garden as a girl, desperate to be included in the games he’d played with Tate.
Until he’d finally turned his eyes to her and things had gone so horribly wrong. Her life had never been the same after that. He’d said he wasn’t to blame, but she blamed him nonetheless. When she wasn’t busy blaming herself.
“Pip! Please.”
She went to the door and fumbled with the cover on the spy hole. Lifting it, she peered through. And there he was, with only a piece of timber between them. She’d dreamed of this moment, never believing it would actually happen. If only she could see him a little more clearly. But for that she’d need a far bigger spy hole and for him to take a step to his left. Or she’d need to open the door.
Would Tate know if she let him in? He had secrets from her, after all. He’d never told her where he went in the mornings. No, she couldn’t betray her brother like that.
“It won’t take long. Please, Pip. I’d like to give this to you myself.”
He held up his hand and she squinted but couldn’t see what it was he wanted to show her.
“What is it?” She silently cursed her curiosity for getting the better of her. Some sister she was.
“I made you a tonic,” he said.
“What for?” Her head sprang up. “I don’t need one. And I don’t trust your tonics.”
“Let me in and we can talk about it. You do need this. I’m worried about you. I’ve seen you in your window. You don’t look healthy.”
She kneaded her hands, sorely tempted to let him in. Edison was worried about her? It seemed so unlikely. But with her mother dead and Tate newly married, who else was left to worry about her? She hated to admit it, but she liked the feeling of Edison being concerned about her.
She opened the door, just a tiny amount, enough for her to see Edison’s face, clearly this time.
But where there stood a man with the bristles of a beard sprouting from his face, Pip saw the boy of her youth. Her heart lurched and she swallowed, glancing to the floor, wishing he wasn’t seeing her like this. Time hadn’t been as kind to her as it’d been to him.
She closed the door a little more, reducing the size of the crack.
“Come on, Pip.” He tried to pry open the door, but she held it firmly. “Don’t be like this. Not with me. We used to be so close.”
“We weren’t close,” she whispered. “I wanted to be your friend, but you always ran away from me.”
“I was just a kid! Boys always ignore the girls they like. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?” He pushed on the door again.
“You… liked me?” She could scarcely believe her ears.
“Of course I liked you,” said Edison. “I still do. You were lots of fun. Whenever I ran away, I always hoped you’d chase me.”
She opened the door, fully this time, and locked eyes with the boy who was now a man.
“That’s better.” His voice was soft, like a gentle promise. “Look at you. You’re all grown up. A real lady now. A beautiful princess.”
Pip stepped away from the door, unsure what to do with such a compliment, even if it was far from true.
“You can come in.” She walked back into the room, thrilling at her rebelliousness, and waited for him to follow. It did sound like he had something important to tell her. Besides, he’d already seen her now and maybe what he had to say would give her something else to think about, instead of wondering when Tate would next grace her with his presence. She was no longer a little girl. It was time for her to decide for herself who she did and didn’t allow into her life.
Edison slipped through the door and closed it behind him. Now that she could see him fully, she felt even more ashamed of her appearance. He was handsome. Extraordinarily handsome. That pull she’d felt toward him still existed, only now that they were grown, it was a different kind of force. One that made her stomach twist and her breath catch in her throat.
He put a small green bottle on her table and took a seat.
“I made you this tonic,” he said.
“I don’t want it.” She perched on her windowsill, not wanting to get too close to him. “The last thing I need is to grow taller or broader.”
“But surely you’d like to be stronger? Have more energy and think with a clear mind?” He pushed the bottle toward her. “This isn’t the same tonic the Guardians drink.”
“Is it the one you made for—”
“No!” he cut her off. “I’ve told you before it wasn’t my tonic that did that. I made this one just for you. A brand new secret recipe.”
“For me?” Her hands fluttered to her throat. He’d spent time creating something just for her? She was glad she’d let him in now. It would’ve been rude not to.
“I’ve told you, Pip. My tonics have never hurt anybody. Only helped them. I’d never hurt you.”
She nodded, still not sure if she believed him.
“I’ve seen you in your window.” He smiled at her and she noticed how blue his eyes were and how white his teeth. Perhaps he took a tonic to enhance his looks. “I want you to have the strength to leave your room. To be the girl you used to be.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. It’d been years since she’d felt so self-conscious that it manifested in the color of her face. Her hands fluttered to her cheeks, as she desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“What did you put in it?” She stepped closer to the table and took hold of the bottle, lifting it to her nose to smell. It had a strange nutty fragrance. She was certain she could detect chamomile in there, too.
“It wouldn’t be a secret recipe if I told you that.” He smiled at her and she dared to catch his gaze and hold it for a moment or two. “Drink it up.”
She held it to her lips and wondered if it would kill her. Did she care? Was she even really living now?
“I don’t really want to be stronger.” She put the bottle back on the table.
“Come on, Pip. If you get a little stronger, you’ll be able to leave your room. There’s so much fun we can have together out there, just like when we were young.”
“I’m happy here.” She pushed the bottle back toward him. “I don’t want to leave my room.”
“But I want you to.”
He reached for her hand and her knees went weak. His hand was so large and strong, making her own hand feel tiny encased inside his warm grasp.
His fingers rubbed her palm and she sat down before her legs gave way, but still, she clung to his hand. She wasn’t ready to break the kind of contact she’d been craving all her life. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“I’ve missed you, Pip,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to talk to me.”
“You’re welcome.” She winced as her voice came out in a squeak. She
was making a mess of this. Edison had grown up with the Guardians. She must look pathetic to him. He’d never visit her again if she behaved like this.
“You still have the dolls,” he said, tipping his head toward her bed.
Yet more blood raced back to her cheeks and not because she was ashamed about her dolls. It was the thought of Edison seeing her bed. The place where she’d dreamed of him and thought about him and missed him with a deep ache in her bones. Seeing him look at her bed felt intimate, even though there was nothing intimate about it at all.
Still holding her hand, he leaned forward, sending her insides into meltdown. “Please trust me, Pip. I’d never hurt you. I made you this tonic to help you. I want to be your friend again. More, if you’ll let me. I thought you wanted that, too. But if you don’t…”
“But I do.” She reached for the bottle with her free hand, lifted it to her lips and tipped it back. It was sweeter than she’d expected, a bit like Edison himself. Licking her lips, she wondered if she was hoping the tonic would really make her strong. Right now she didn’t mind what it did to her as long as drinking it meant Edison would visit her again.
“I’ll bring you another tonic tomorrow,” he said, pushing back his chair and breaking contact between them.
“Yes, please.” She clasped her hands together in her lap, trying to hold onto the feeling for a little longer.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he said. “I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
“What will the tonic do to me?” she asked, desperate to prolong the visit.
“It’ll make you strong and wash away your fears. We’ll have you out of this room and running through the garden in no time.”
She winced, not liking the sound of that at all. She didn’t want to leave her room and run through the garden with Edison. She wanted him to stay right where he was in the safety of her room.
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 71
