Fuck her stubborn ass and refusing to slow down, even for a second. I’m three paces behind, and it’s the longest two minutes of my life, each second taking an hour to pass. We finally make it to the scene, and without even waiting for my horse to stop, I’m bounding off, throwing my jacket on the ground and diving in after her.
I wrench her onto the riverbed, none too gently, and ignore the panic surging through me as I begin mouth to mouth. Breathing hot air into her open mouth and pumping her chest, begging her to breathe.
“Come on, Raina. Don’t you die on me, you stubborn, insufferable woman. Breathe, goddamn it.”
I keep going, breathing for two counts, pumping her chest for ten counts, for what feels like hours, but realistically it’s maybe minutes. Finally she stirs and gurgles. I spring into action and twist her onto her side, the one away from me, and she vomits all over the bank.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” I repeat over and over, rubbing her back as soothingly as I can muster with trembling hands as she heaves up the entire contents of her stomach.
She murmurs unintelligible words, and then collapses against me. I don’t waste any more time as I wrap her shivering body in my coat and then hers before hoisting her on to the horse’s saddle. I then follow a second behind her so she doesn’t fall off in her weakened state, shifting her to rest along my thighs and against my chest. Wrapping one arm firmly around her back to press her tightly against me, I take the reins of my horse in the same hand and use the other to pull Jezebel alongside as we ride.
It’s a long, excruciatingly slow trek back to the palace stables like this, the whole time my heart beating painfully against my rib cage. It’s like it’s trying to take flight or jump ship and into Raina as it thuds against her. I could have lost her, again, but this time forever, in a more permanent way than I ever thought possible. At least knowing she was alive and well gave me some measure of comfort, though small it was then. Now, it’s all I need. I will gladly step aside, knowing she breathes. That will be enough. As long as she just keeps breathing.
“We’re almost there. Hold on, okay? I won’t let you die, damn it. You’ll make that blasted wedding if it’s the last thing I do.”
We come into view of the stables, and her guard and two stable boys come running to greet us as soon as they take in the sight of all four of us.
“Oh my God,” her guard stammers in shock as he comes running up to me. “What the hell happened?”
“Don’t just stand there, man. Run to the castle and fetch the physician,” I growl out.
He hesitates for a second before running off in the direction of the palace. The two stable boys don’t dally, one rushing to take Jezebel’s reins, the other taking the mare I’m on. I shift Raina against my chest, one arm securely around her middle, the other under her legs, and swing my right leg over the horse’s head, and slide off the animal with a massive thud. I minimize the impact to Raina and take all of it into my feet and knees.
But I don’t stop for even a second’s pause. I’m racing as fast as I can with Raina in my arms to the palace entrance, totally disregarding all the whispered words and gasps as I pass guards, servants, and lords alike.
I get to the doors as the guard, physicians on duty, and three servants come running out of them.
“We’ll take her from here, Gavin,” Markel says, indicating one of the servants to take Raina from me. “Tell us quickly, what happened?”
I pause for the first time since she went flying off her horse and look down at her semi-conscious form limp in my arms. I don’t want to have to pass her off. What if they drop her? But, truth be told, I know this is the last time I will ever see her in the flesh again, and I do not want to part with her. I don’t want to let her go. But I have to.
Just as I am about to concede, the Queen comes hurriedly out the double front doors of the palace, gasping and covering her mouth with her hands as she takes in the sight of Raina, her head lolling to one side, her arms dangling listlessly.
“Dear God. What on earth happened, Gavin? George!” she bellows at her guard who is two steps behind her. “Take my daughter to the infirmary.”
I gingerly pass Raina over, feeling slightly more comfortable that burly George is taking her instead of one of the servants. He wastes no time taking her, one of the physicians hot on his heels, the other no doubt waiting to hear the details of her current state.
“Your Majesty.” I bow, and she instantly waves off my formality.
“Yes, yes, skip all of that. What happened?”
“As I got to the stables, the princess rode off, leaving her guard behind, I, ah, thought it was best I go after her, as I am the more competent rider, as she was already miles in front. She wasn't paying close enough attention to where she was going and came too close to that little creek river. Jezzy skidded to a holt, bucking the Princess straight into the river.”
The Queen gasps in horror, some color draining out of her face at this, and I dread telling her the rest, as it only gets worse from here.
“She bumped the back of her skull on a rock when she submerged and went under again for close to three minutes.”
The Queen teeters on her feet, and I lunge forward as she almost collapses at this news, holding her up as I deliver the rest.
“I performed CPR for six cycles before she stirred, vomited all the water and everything else in her stomach, then she passed out. I wrapped her in both our coats and rode us straight back.”
“Thank you,” the physician says. “Can you bring Her majesty to the infirmary? We don’t want her fainting.”
I nod, and he runs off after the others. I take the Queen’s arm, steadying her as I walk her to the medical rooms off the east wing. She’s silent up until we get to the doors, and then, in the smallest of voices, she whispers her thanks.
“I don’t know what we would have done if you weren't there, Gavin.”
I’m saved from replying when her guard comes running from the opposite direction.
“He knows, Your Majesty, and he is on his way.”
The Queen nods solemnly, and George takes her arm and leads her into the infirmary, but not before dismissing me from duty for the rest of the day.
Well, that is it. The king has been notified. And the hammer is as good as dropped now.
***
The rest of my shift was cut short, I was given orders to go rest and warm up myself. I’d been laying on my bed for the last hour just staring up at the ceiling, when a hard knock at the door roused me from my twisted thoughts.
I grumble and get to my feet, they drag as I make my way to the door and yank it open. To my utter surprise, it’s the King himself standing on the other side and not some lackey come to fetch me and drag me off to my fate. I’m struck dumb and mute, standing there like a deer in headlights.
“May I come in?” he asks, but it’s not really a question or a request.
I nod and step aside, letting the King into my small quarters, which basically consists of a single bed, a small kitchenette, and TV with a lone single chair in one corner of the room. He pauses, looks around, taking it all in, and then decides to sit on the end of my bed, instead of the chair. I remain standing after closing the door.
“Have you ever been to the staff quarters before?” I ask, bemused.
“This would be a first.”
I nod, not surprised. He’s come to fire me in person, without anyone knowing about it, then. Why else would he make an effort to seek me out like this?
“Firstly, I’d like to personally thank you for saving my daughter’s life. If you hadn’t have been there…” He trails off, and I stay silent.
The last thing I want to do is lead on to the fact it was probably because I was there that she rode off in the first place, putting herself in that situation.
“You love her?” he says gruffly, studying my face intently for a response.
I nod. I can’t lie about it; what’s the point? “I do.”
He growl
s low under his breath. “Well, what am I supposed to do about that?”
I say nothing. Silence seems my safest option. I doubt he expects me to offer a solution.
“If I cancel the wedding, there will be unrest,” he growls and shakes his head, standing up to pace the small space. “If I let the princess marry a commoner, I set a dangerous precedent.” He studies me, for what I don’t know. Does he expect me to protest? I know the law. “You saved the princess. Twice. That hasn’t been lost on me. Without you in the mountains, she’d be as good as dead.” This I start to object to. Raina was very capable. “I’ll give you a title. Some land,” he bursts out.
That shuts me up. I frown. I’m being paid off. Awesome. And then I’ll be sent on my way.
“That isn’t why I did it, Your Majesty. I don’t need payment. I was only doing my job, keeping the Princess safe, as best I can with her stubborn ways.”
He chuckles lightly at that, but he would hear none of my protests, and leaves immediately to arrange the matter at hand.
The next day there is a small ceremony of sorts in the throne room. My title is announced in the daily paper, along with the parcel of land I am to attain. It’s about as far from the castle as you can get, just the way I am sure he arranged it.
It all happened so quickly, I barely had time to wrap my head around it, or ask after Raina. That very night I am moved from my quarters and sent to this new life, just in time to avoid witnessing the Royal wedding, which suits me fine. But the morning of the wedding, however, a man shows up first thing, banging my door down.
“Your tuxedo, sir,” he states after I’ve thrown open the door. I frown. Apparently with the title and land come obligations, and the wedding is one of them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Raina
There is nothing like a near-death experience to put everything into perspective. Except in my case, it changes nothing. That's the kicker. I can’t change a damn thing about my life. I refuse to be so melodramatic and think I might have been better off dead.
My parents have been fussing over me for the past two days, while I’ve been busy trying to recover from the head wound and the bitter cold that I still feel deep in my bones. I don’t think that’s ever going to go away. It’s embedding too deep, to my very soul.
I tune back into the current situation and find my mother is in a right state, wanting to call off the wedding. Well, postpone it. I couldn't be that lucky to live and get out of marrying what's his face.
“You cannot make her marry like this?” She goes on. “Look at the state of her. She almost died, for heaven’s sake,” she yells at my father.
“We do not have a choice, my dear. The whole country is expecting that wedding. We can’t cancel it. What would we tell everyone? Our reckless daughter, their future Queen, rode off and almost got herself killed three days before her wedding? How do you imagine that would go over, hmm?”
“It’s fine,” I mumble. “I will marry what’s his name tomorrow. It’s what everyone wants, what’s expected of me. I’ll be fine.” I wave my hand in the air, dismissing their worry. “Business as usual.”
An odd sort of expression crosses my father’s face, but it is gone the next minute and replaced once more with his no-nonsense one, the one I dubbed his royal face.
“And what about Gavin?” he asks tentative, almost begrudgingly.
“What about him?”
His name alone causes me physical pain, like a lashing to the back, but on my heart. My father looks at me expectantly, as if I know exactly what about Gavin means. I will not cry, I will not cry…
“I will always love him. I can no more stop being in love with him than I can forget him. I’ve tried. I swear I have, but I will do my duty, as have you both, and that will be that. Do not cancel the wedding. What is the point in delaying the inevitable?”
I’ve already resigned myself to the fact my life, though alive I may be, will be overcome tomorrow. I’ve committed to this hell; why change it all now? I tune out whatever follows. My mind once again drifting back to Gavin and our last encounter.
I could hear him calling to me, pleading with me to breathe. It felt like I was still underwater, heavy darkness pressing on my mind and body. I thrashed and screamed and fought like hell to get back to him. It was like crawling through quicksand. It felt impossible, but I couldn’t give up, not when he was fighting so hard to keep me. But keep me he couldn’t; he handed me back without any fight whatsoever. I haven’t seen or heard of him since.
I cough, my throat still burning after vomiting up all that water and anything I’d eaten in the days before, and I attract everyone's attention again.
“Can I get a glass of water before you all leave? I need to rest if I am to look my best for tomorrow's wedding.”
They sigh and do as I bid them. And the tears I’d been holding back for weeks finally fall. The dam has broken, along with my heart, again.
***
I wake on my wedding day, that thought alone still so strange and not all that pleasant, with rapping on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I groan. Not bothering to get out of bed and answer it.
Ellie pokes her head in before stepping fully into the room.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. Time to get up and get you ready for your big day.”
She’s far too bubbly, and it makes me groan again, throwing the blankets over my head. This makes her chuckle, so I toss back the covers and sit up to glare at her.
“I should have let them hire some stylists to do all…” I wave my hand haphazardly, indicating all that I am. This makes Ellie chuckle again.
“Your hair and makeup?” she offers helpfully, trying to suppress her smile and laughter.
“Yes. That. Instead, I stupidly demanded it be you,” I huff. “I could be getting some peace instead of all this sunshine and rainbows nonsense coming from you.”
“Heaven forbid you have sunshine and rainbows on your wedding day, Your Highness. Well, I guess I can leave you to it. I’m sure they can get someone else to fix you up.” She bluffs. I glare.
“Fine. You win. I’m getting up. Happy?”
“Very.”
She pushes me all the way to my bathroom, and then once I’m in, hands me about four different bottles of random stuff.
“Use all of them,” she states, turning on the shower before leaving the room.
“I can turn my own shower on, you know,” I holler through the closed door. I hear a muffled laugh from the other sided. Rude.
I do as instructed, though. Washing my hair thoroughly with the almond milk shampoo and conditioner she provided. Then my face and body with the two other jars of scrubs that smell divinely of jasmine and honey. I have to admit, I dallied a bit. Okay, a lot. I really don’t want to get out, not until a disgruntled “Today, Princess!” is yelled through the closed door, do I contemplate it.
I concede and exit the bathroom after finding my fancy wedding underwear and a plush midnight blue robe, smelling like a spring garden in June.
“Do your worst, Ellie.” I sigh, plopping down into the vanity chair.
There is a reason I asked, no, demanded, it be Ellie. She’s been doing my hair and makeup for more than five years, and she’s wonderful and crazy gifted. She doesn’t mess about. Within minutes, she has my hair up in rolls and is working on my face.
She takes a moment to pause, biting her lip in thought as she looks me over for what feels like an age, before her happy, cheerful face morphs into a much more somber expression.
“I’m sure it will all work out, Princess Raina. You’ll see. He will fall madly in love with you, and I imagine with time, you’ll grow to love him too. You have such a big heart; how could you help but open it up.”
I say nothing, but give a watery smile in return. She sees right through it and softly wipes a tear from the corner of one eye.
“Waterproof mascara it is, then,” she says with a soft smile.
Ellie carries on with her wor
k, quietly telling me all the goings in and out of the palace, as she decorates my face fit for a queen. Not this one-day-to-be-queen, but my mother, the actual queen. She’s applying the finishing touches to my lips when she excitedly squeals.
“You will never guess, and I can’t imagine with all that’s been going on with you these past few days you’ve been told the news.”
“What news, Ellie?” I ask absently as she spins me around to face the mirror so she can begin working on my hair.
I stare transfixed on the vision she’s turned me into. Once again, she’s created a soft, healthy glow to my skin. I seem to shine from within, which is nothing like how I’m feeling. The chocolate smoky shadow look brings out the blue of my eyes, and the black wing and thick long lashes make them look bright and big. She finished the look off with a rose gold shimmery lipstick.
“Oh, so … as I was saying. Gavin is no longer a guard.”
“What?” I spin around and wince as my hair snags on the roller in her hand. “Sorry. What do you mean he’s no longer a guard?”
Ellie tuts at me and turns me back around, and I try not to notice, even with all the makeup on, my color has drained.
“Well, after he saved you, your father released him of his duty, rewarded him with a fancy new title and land, down by Creeks bank.”
I’m rendered mute, and my heart seems to squeeze so hard I feel like I might faint, but I take a slow, shuddering breath in, and pray for strength. It wasn’t enough to move him to the farthest part of the palace; now he’s about as far away from the castle as possible. I guess my father was worried, after all. Just like with my mother.
“Isn’t that great? He no longer has to be ordered about all day. He’s a free man. An Earl. no less. I wonder what he’ll do with all that land and the house he was bestowed with? I imagine he’ll be wanting a wife soon, too.” She giggles, and whatever is left of my soul dies with her words.
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