“Edison.” She passed him back the empty bottle, a jolt passing through her gut as their fingers brushed. “I know I don’t… look how I used to. You don’t have to call me beautiful. I know what I am.”
“Pip.” He slipped the bottle into his pocket and placed a hand on her forearm. “You are beautiful. Now, let’s work on getting you strong enough that you can show the world some of that beauty again.”
“Thank you,” she said, putting her hand over his. There could be no harm in letting him believe she wanted to leave her room, just as long as he didn’t stop visiting her. She wasn’t sure she could wait another decade before seeing him again.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked.
She smiled as she nodded. “I’ll open the door a little more quickly next time.”
He laughed. “See, beautiful and funny, too.”
She watched him leave, then shifted to sit in the chair he’d vacated, looking at her bedchamber as if through his eyes.
Was she really beautiful? Tate said so. And now Edison. But her mirror didn’t, not that she’d looked in it for years, having covered it over with a blanket. She didn’t need to look in it to know she was as fat as she was useless.
But one thing she couldn’t doubt was that since drinking the tonic, she certainly did feel strong and calm. Was that the tonic Edison had given her, or had that been the effect of Edison himself? A man who her brother had banned her from seeing when she was a girl. But now that she was a woman, her promise didn’t seem so important to keep. It was broken now anyway. And as she knew better than anyone, once something was broken it was almost impossible to put back.
TATE
THE NOW
Tate hating handing out bad news. Especially when the bad news was worse than bad and he had to deliver it to a wife he barely knew.
“What’s wrong?” River asked, the moment he walked into his bedchamber. Their bedchamber now.
Pip had often told him he wore his mood on his face, but he hadn’t believed her until now. He tried to rearrange his facial expression into a more neutral one.
“Sit down.” He patted the back of a chair and nodded at River.
“Tell me what’s happened.” Her feet remained planted on the floor.
“Please sit down,” he tried again. This wasn’t news to give someone while they were standing up.
She reluctantly lowered herself into a chair and blinked at him with the pale blue of her eyes as she waited for him to speak.
He pulled up a chair close beside her and drew in a deep breath, wondering how to phrase what he had to say, and deciding it’d be best to just spit it out.
“Your sister passed away overnight.”
River’s hand flew to her mouth as she let out a noise that reminded him of a rabbit caught in a trap. She knew what was happening and desperately didn’t want it to be true.
“I’m so sorry.” The words choked in the back of his throat with their uselessness.
She shook her head, still not seeming to be able to find any words of her own.
“The herbalist’s working hard to find out what the problem is.” This would be of little comfort but he wasn’t sure what else to say. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
“It’s too late for Daphne.”
He nodded, unable to deny the truth of this. He knew better than anybody how impossible it was to bring someone back once they were gone. Pushing thoughts of his mother aside, he focused on his wife, patting her awkwardly on the hand.
“I should’ve been there with her.” Streaks of tears were flowing down River’s face now. It was the first time he’d seen a Guardian cry. He didn’t even know they could.
“It’s my fault you weren’t there.” The heavy ache he’d felt in his chest when he’d first heard this news increased in weight, like a stone against his ribs. “I’m so sorry. Please, go to her now. Your family needs you.”
“But you’re my family now.” She blinked, wiping away her tears and pulling back her shoulders. There was the Guardian courage he was familiar with.
“Oh, River,” he said. “Of course I’m your family. But that doesn’t mean you have to say goodbye to the family who raised you.”
“That’s… that’s not what your father told me when he selected me. He was very clear that I was expected to leave them behind.”
Tate shook his head, realizing the disappointment his father had for him ran both ways. How could anybody try to cut someone off from their family like that?
“Go and visit them.” He kept his voice gentle, in the same way he spoke to the injured rabbits.
“My duty is to you now.” She bit down on her lip and looked at him, each blink of her eyes breaking his heart just that little bit more.
“Then I request that you accompany me, while I visit your family to pay my respects.”
River’s forehead wrinkled and she tilted her head, more than aware he was saying this for her benefit.
“Please,” he said, standing and reaching out his hand. “This way you can tell my father that you were following my orders.”
River didn’t need to be asked twice. She got to her feet and took Tate’s hand, her eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you.”
He sighed, wishing she wouldn’t be so polite. He was never going to get to know her if she kept up those walls. He wanted to see the true River. The one who’d shocked him by boldly requesting he let his hair fall free. Perhaps the problem was that she didn’t seem to know herself. The woman she was now that she was no longer a Guardian. She had as much to learn about herself as he did about her.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her close to his chest and wrapping his arms around her.
She returned the embrace with stiff formality at first, then melted into him, sliding her hands around his waist and resting her face on his shoulder as a quiet sob shook her body.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again.
“No apologies.” She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. “If a rule is good for me, then it’s good for you, too.”
“That sounds fair.”
He took her by the hand and led her from the palace and out to the garden. He was glad to have been able to offer her some kind of small comfort, even though he suspected nothing he did would be able to take away the pain of her losing her sister. If anything happened to Pip, he’d be devastated.
But he knew Guardians were tough. Brave. They faced their troubles with stony faces and heads held high. Seeing tears fall from River’s eyes had been huge. Was it because she was no longer drinking her tonics in the morning? It’d only been a couple of days since the wedding. Surely, they weren’t so powerful that they had such an immediate effect when she’d stopped taking them.
More likely it was just the gravity of the news itself.
They followed a path to a tall hedge, behind which was the Guardians’ village. Tate used to come here often as a boy, searching for Edison to come out to play or to talk to Ariel about her magic potions, as he’d liked to call them.
But he’d come here far less regularly since his mother died, avoiding Edison rather than seeking him out. He visited Ariel only when he knew Edison wasn’t around, feeling uncomfortable every time he stepped through the hedge. Not because he wasn’t made to feel welcome, but for the opposite reason. The Guardians treated him like he was some kind of supreme being, bowing to him and stopping their conversations mid-sentence when they noticed him. Had they done that when he was a child? Perhaps they had, but he hadn’t noticed it. Or perhaps children didn’t garner as much respect as when they were grown.
He tightened his grip on River’s hand, aware that now he was seeking comfort from her as well as handing it out.
They went through the opening in the hedge and past the tavern where the Guardians took their meals and tonics. Behind the tavern was the kitchen and the small home the herbalist shared with Edison. He was probably back there somewhere. But Tate didn’t want to think about him right now.
His focus was on River.
The Guardians’ small huts were dotted around the landscape. The way their thatched roofs clung to the mud-brick walls reminded Tate of the hats he sometimes saw the farmers wearing.
Everywhere he looked, there were Guardians training. Running, jumping, lifting, climbing; their hard muscles glistening in the sun, male and female alike. He glanced at River and tried to imagine her in her Guardians’ tunic, putting herself through these grueling exercises. Did she miss it? Would her hard muscles turn to soft flesh now that she was no longer using them?
As they passed, groups of Guardians would stop what they were doing and bow their heads to show their respect. If they were curious about River in her new royal clothing on the arm of a Prince, they didn’t show it. She was a Princess now and it was their job to serve her. They treated her as they did any other royal.
River bowed her own head, holding back her tears. She didn’t seem to want the attention of these people she’d grown up beside. All she wanted was her family. All she wanted was to grieve.
“Over here.” River tugged on his hand, taking him to one of the huts on the outskirts of the village.
Before they reached the door, it flew open and a female Guardian stood before them with her arms outstretched, as if she’d somehow known her daughter had come home.
River ran into her mother’s arms and they held each other in silence, tears unnecessary to convey the sadness they felt. Tate pushed down a pang of longing for the comfort of his own mother’s arms. This wasn’t about him.
“Come in.” River’s mother let go of her daughter and stepped aside.
“I’ll wait out here,” said Tate, not wanting to intrude on such a personal moment.
“No, you won’t,” her mother said, with nothing but love in her eyes. “You’re my son now. You’ll join us inside.”
Tate felt a pain stab him in the chest and for a moment he thought he might weep the tears that River had been holding back. He realized for the first time that he didn’t just miss his mother. He missed having a mother.
He stepped into the small hut and into his new bride’s life.
RIVER
THE NOW
River knew it was her job as a Guardian to stay strong. But how was that possible when every cell of her body felt like it was tearing apart.
Daphne was dead. Her sister who’d been younger than her, stronger than her, taller than her and undoubtedly an all-round better person than her. If Daphne died, then what hope did anybody else have, least of all River.
She watched her brave mother usher Tate into the small home she’d grown up in. There were no rooms in this hut. Everything they needed was all in this one open space. But her family hadn’t needed a large home. All they’d needed was love, something that seemed to be distinctly lacking in River’s new home in the palace. Although, there was no denying a bond was developing with Tate. It wasn’t love though. Not yet. But the spark had certainly grown into a small flame.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw her father sitting beside Daphne’s bed. His head was in his hands and she wondered if he knew she was there. Daphne was still on the bed, and River averted her gaze, not ready to see her sister’s cold face just yet. She’d never seen a dead person up close before and wished the first time wasn’t someone she cared about so much.
“Father,” she said, placing a hand on his back.
He jolted and looked up at her, his face stony, his eyes empty pools. Never before had she seen him like this.
“River? I barely recognize you.” He stared at her, having never seen her like this either.
She wore her hair down around her shoulders now and the palace seamstress had made her several dresses that fit without ribbons struggling to pull them together at her back.
“It’s me,” she said, holding out her arms as her father stood, anticipating his warm embrace. The hug from Tate had given her some comfort, but it was her father’s arms she craved right now.
But instead, he dropped to a bow. “It’s nice to see you, Your Highness.”
River’s stomach fell. She didn’t want him calling her that. Nor did she want him bowing to her. He was the man who gave her life. Her mother hadn’t treated her like that just now. This was ridiculous! She knew Guardian blood ran strong and loyalty and service to the royal family were paramount, but this was taking things too far.
So, she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, forcing him upright, his hands hanging limply by his side. She continued to hug him, waiting for him to return the affection, but he held still.
“Please, father,” she said. “I need to know you love me. I’m still your daughter.”
With these words, his arms engulfed her as he pulled her close, his giant Guardian body dwarfing her.
She relaxed into his familiar warmth, realizing how much she’d missed him.
Then, letting go of her with almost as much urgency as he’d taken hold, he went to the door and left the hut.
“I don’t understand.” River shifted her eyes from the door to her mother as she slowly shook her head.
Her mother forced a smile that said she didn’t want to explain, so River tried again. “Does he blame me for Daphne’s death? That I wasn’t here to look out for her?”
“Oh, no. Of course not.” Her mother rushed to her side.
“Then what is it?”
Her mother sighed, taking the seat her husband had only just vacated and looked from Daphne and back to River, her eyes filling with tears that would never fall. “He feels like he’s lost both his daughters.”
“But that’s not true.” Tate stepped forward to join River at her side.
She’d almost forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet until now. Did he feel uncomfortable intruding on what was an excruciatingly personal moment? Perhaps now he had some understanding of how she felt in the palace.
“Just because River’s now my wife, doesn’t mean she’s no longer your daughter,” said Tate.
His words flew straight from his lips to River’s heart. She may not have married the sort of man she expected to, but there was no doubt she’d married one who was kind. And what more important quality could there be in life than kindness?
“Thank you.” Her mother smiled up at Tate, her thoughts no doubt mirroring River’s own. “Please excuse my husband leaving just now. We’re trained to bury our emotions no matter how intense they are. It makes us stronger as warriors.”
Tate nodded. “People kill for hate. They kill for love. Emotion is what drives us to be better people and it’s what causes us to be worse. There’s nothing wrong with letting our feelings show.”
River hesitated, not sure how to feel about this. Tate was questioning everything she’d been raised to be.
“Please forgive me.” Tate’s eyes fell on Daphne’s lifeless body. “Perhaps I should wait outside for you. You need some time here.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t want to agree, but he was right. She needed to talk to her mother. And she needed to say goodbye to Daphne. Tate may be her husband, but he hadn’t known Daphne.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“He’s a good man,” her mother said, reaching for her hand. “I’m relieved for you.”
“Were you worried?” Her mother hadn’t shown this concern when she’d learned the King had selected her. The only sign had been with the words her father had refused to say.
“A Guardian never worries,” her mother said.
“What do you think of what Tate just said about emotions?” she asked, not sure she’d have an opportunity to speak to her about this later. “Is it right for us to keep pushing them down until they burst out in a flood?”
“I’m not sure. I’d need to think on that. All I know is that your husband may be just what this kingdom needs. And with you beside him, The Bay of Laurel will be stronger than ever before.”
There w
as a pride in her mother’s face. No matter what reservations she may have had about River’s marriage, there was a part of her that was undoubtedly as honored as she’d claimed to be.
“I feel our kingdom is getting weaker lately, not stronger.” River looked at her sister’s wasted body, not yet able to drag her eyes to her face.
“I don’t mean strength of muscle, River. I mean strength of heart.”
River squeezed her mother’s hand back. There were so many more layers to this woman who raised her than she’d realized. Why was it that she was only discovering it now that they no longer lived under the same roof? Sometimes distance sharpened perspective, rather than blurred it.
“Do you mind if I sit with her for a bit?” she asked, motioning to the chair.
“Of course.” Her mother stood. “I know you loved her, too. I’m going to wait outside with your Prince.”
River sat beside Daphne and waited until they were alone. She lifted her sister’s hand from the bed. It was cold and heavy.
Slowly, she shifted her eyes from Daphne’s hand, to her chest, to her neck, to her face.
“Oh, Daphne!” She let out a gasp and pushed back her tears in the way she’d been taught to as a child, but it was no use. They spilled out anyway, just like they had when Tate had first delivered the news. “Oh, Daphne.”
Her beautiful sister no longer looked like her sister. Her face was so relaxed without her smile to hold it in place that she looked like a different person. If it weren’t for the familiar slope of her nose, or the tilt of her eyes, or curve of her chin, River might be convinced it was someone else who lay in this bed. But it was Daphne. There was no doubt about it. This was her sister.
“Thank you for being my sister,” she said. “Not that you had a choice in that.”
She paused, as if expecting Daphne to open her eyes and reply.
“I’m going to find out what happened to you,” she vowed. “I promise you that. And I’m going to flatten whoever’s responsible.”
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 72
